#there was something poetic about that. about finishing the final battle with that old weapon instead of my greatsword

[kurozu501]

Finished bloodborne tonight, like actually really finished it. Killed the dlc boss one more time, tied up all the loose ends i cared about, walked slowly out to the garden, and got the last ending to the game. Even if we never get a bloodborne 2, I really hope fromsoft makes another game like this, with no weight system and a battle system built around parrying. i had so much fun with it. Because parrying is your only defensive option, and all the enemies in the game are designed to be parried, i felt so much more free to try it out. Even in elden ring i find myself shying away from parrying bc i don’t know which attacks can be parried and which are just arbitrarily unblockable. Never had that problem in bloodborne, and got really, really good at timing my parries. What a blast.

Feels kind of bittersweet to say goodbye to such a great game. The Doll’s parting words of “may you find your worth in the waking world” took on a perfect meta feeling in the end. I can tell this game is going on the list of “games i wish i could forget so i can re-experience it for the first time.” Thanks to everyone who worked on this game and made it so incredible. 

[ghostfvcker]

baldur's gate 3 journal

part 2: the ravaged beach and the race against time

part 1 here.

spoilers under the cut

Tasya awoke in one, whole piece, which was a miracle in it of itself. Her unfortunate headmate refused to allow itself to be forgotten, which made any attempts of writing it off as a bad dream impossible. But not all was lost, as she found the woman she'd saved upon the Nautiloid, Shadowheart, laying not but feet away from her. She shook her awake, and the two decided to look for a healer together. Shadowheart is practical and to-the-point, which is a great help to Tasya. She knows she's with someone who will have her back, even through hard decisions.

She has to accept the fact that the Messengers are, undoubtedly, gone. Accept it, perhaps, rationalizing it is another matter entirely-- one she'll undertake when she's not actively in danger. She decides it's best to stick with Shadowheart and try to build a group from there. Rifling through papers and belongings left by dead fisherman, she's able to conclude that they're close enough to Baldur's Gate for it to be the biggest city nearby, and that the river they've found themselves on is the Chionthar. Outside of that, she has very little idea where they are.

After a far-too-easy battle against intellect devourers, she encounters a pale elf, Astarion. She can immediately assume he's a nobleman, or noble-adjacent, with the finery he's wearing. He distracts her and pulls a dagger-- but Tasya is too jumpy to not notice the metallic flash as he does so. There's fear and desperation in his voice that makes her more forgiving, giving him the information he seeks, and he relaxes. He's infected, too. She invites him to join them, much to Shadowheart's concern.

Not too far ahead, they find the last member of their party: Gale, a wizard from Waterdeep, caught in a teleportation rune gone awry. Tasya had managed to calm it magically-- sigils and runes were always her strongest suit when it came to magic, although never on this scale, not without the aid of her patron-- just enough for him to get out. He's forward and charming and funny, and Tasya can't help but catch herself giggling at his flattery. But, he's a wizard-- such a wizard, equal parts arrogant and patronizing, and the comments he makes to her about not "being versed" in magic begin to sour her first impression of him.

The four of them managed to pick through an old tomb, scaring off or killing the raiders that were occupying it. In the main chamber of the ancient chapel Tasya took a beating, folding like cards under the weapon of the raider's barbarian. Gale woke her up and pulled her to her feet, stabilizing her. After the battle was finished, they made camp for the night.

Camp conversation is tense. Gale waxes poetic about how their experiences were lifted off of the pages of textbooks, and Tasya couldn't agree with him more. Shadowheart's wary-- and edge into paranoid, which is rich coming from Tasya. Astarion is stiff, unkind. She sighs and settles herself in for the night.

It takes her ages to fall asleep. The tadpole squirms under her features and it makes her feel sick with anxiety. Finally she forces her attention elsewhere, and falls asleep.

...only to be woken up only hours later by her patron.

The creeping thing that haunts her, that she's bound herself to, is never tiring. She wakes up to that dreadful feeling prickling up her spine, the feeling of being watched, the feeling of something standing right behind you. She know it is standing over her, towering, staring down at her sleeping form, but she can't-- won't-- bring herself to look at it. She stared out, ahead of her, pleading mentally for someone to save her, anyone to save her from the suffocating panic the creature's presence brought. Shadowheart opened her eyes groggily, rolling over, one eye open, shut, then open again with alarm. She jumped to her feet, grabbed her mace, and lunched over the dull embers of the fire at Tasya's monster.

No use, the monster disappeared, but the party stirred awake in alarm. Tasya laid stiffly until Shadowheart urged her upright, Gale lit a fire, and the three demanded to know what that was.

Tasya cried, she didn't want to, but anger and fear and frustration and powerlessness were strong emotions. She answered their question.

Since she was eleven years old, she'd been haunted by that fucking thing, the monster in her closet. In the eight years since, any attempt at discovering what the hells it was had proven worthless.

A little more than a year ago, she made a deal with it-- for the strength to protect herself and those around her, she would feed it enough fear for eternity.

It didn't matter if it was hers, her ally's, her enemy's-- it fed off of mortal fear, and as long as she was a conduit for that, it would follow her until the end of her days.

-- part three -- -- part four --

[possibleplatypus]

Hope you don’t mind me dropping in because that post was getting long and we were getting off topic 😅 I did like SC’s arc for character growth. I guess what makes me question whether it can be considered a hero’s arc is — he has a similar background to someone like Yelena (abused to become a killer - or even Bucky in this category I guess). Was there a moment that made him a hero on par with the Avengers while Yelena/Bucky belong in the Thunderbolts with the anti-heroes? 🧐 (or is it just MCU and their inconsistent framing, sigh)

Ahaha yeah I didn't want the post to get much longer 😅 I’m going to answer this having only seen the movie once, so apologies if I miss something :P I still need to watch Black Widow, so I can't speak to Yelena's arc for now. And I am so mad that they keep trying to frame Bucky as a villain and I really hope he doesn't join the Thunderbolts. Aren't they a group of "reformed" supervillains? He doesn't belong with them!! He is a straight up hero and I will die on this hill 😤

Can Shang Chi’s story be considered a hero’s arc? I think it depends on how you define a hero’s arc. If you go by the Hero’s Journey story structure as coined by Joseph Campbell, I think Shang Chi does match this framework pretty closely. I liked how GVSU explained it the most:

The Hero's Journey is a myth based framework. Incredibly flexible, it has three main parts-- the separation, where the hero sets out on his journey, seeking (possibly reluctantly) adventure. Secondly, the initiation, where the majority of the journey happens-- the hero arrives. Finally is the return. The hero has finished whatever they set out to do and has obtained the object (treasure, love, or knowledge). Now he must return home.

In Shang Chi, you have the metaphorical runaway prince returning to stop his father, the evil king, from destroying the world by releasing a demon dragon. He journeys to the magical land of his ancestors, usurps his father, and with his mother's blessing, his father's weapons, and the support of his friends and family, he slays the dragon and brings peace to the land.

But something that I like about Shang Chi is that even though there's a world-ending demon dragon to defeat, it wasn't the main challenge that he had to overcome. His most important battle was with himself, and with his father. He was always strong enough to stand up to his father and slay the dragon-- he just had to realize it. *cue Kung Fu Panda music* It was the classic story of the main character needing to conquer his inner demons before he could conquer the physical ones.

As a teenager, Shang Chi had already rejected his father’s attempts to train him as his heir, and went into hiding. There wasn't much question as to what the right thing to do was for him-- his father had never convinced him that being an assassin/warlord was okay (his mother's influence there, I think), and he would never have agreed to destroying his mother’s village.

So there was no moral quandary for him, only the question of could he really stand up to and stop his father, who had control over him his entire life? Prove that his father’s choices were the wrong ones? Could he fight the way his mother and father did? Could he overcome the shame of standing by while his mother was killed, and abandoning his sister (even though he was only 7 years old in the former and 14 years old in the latter, so we can forgive him, but he can’t forgive himself)? Only by accepting himself and his heritage, the good and the bad, could he defeat his father, defeat the demon dragon, save Ta Lo, and with it save the world. And at the end of his journey, in a satisfying poetic circle, he returned home as the keeper of both his mother and father’s legacies, poised to forge his own.

His turning point was subtle; he had to psych himself up the eve before the confrontation with his father and get a pep talk from his aunt (his mother’s only remaining relative, so getting her approval and encouragement was kind of like getting the approval of his dead mother and getting closure) before he could face his father with the resolve needed to defeat him... the resolve to kill him. 

I can’t pinpoint exactly when he believed he was strong enough to confront his father once and for all. There was no Big Moment that flipped his switch, unlike for Steve and Tony. I think the resolve was there that night before the battle when he talked to Katy, but the confidence wasn't. Hours before, his aunt had defeated him, and he still seemed unsure when his father arrived and beat him into the lake. He seemed to grow more confident the longer he and his father fought and the closer the barrier was to being broken, after getting rescued by the dragon (another symbol of his mother), and after he realized that he could control his father's rings, the source of his power. 

And I think that's okay? Not every decision has to be sparked by a big event; sometimes you can’t pinpoint the exact thing that makes you change your mind about something. Sometimes it's an accumulation of everything that came before. Sometimes you need a gradual buildup of confidence to believe in yourself.

And then when he finally got the upper hand-- literally, the rings were spinning with shining energy in his hands-- when his father knew that Shang Chi was capable of killing him-- he chose to drop the rings. He didn't need them. Boss move 😂

It’s not the biggest hero moment in the way of past Marvel movies since his struggle was mostly internal, but I think it is still inspiring because it takes a lot of guts to stand up to someone who had abused you-- especially a parent-- and face the demons of your past, and move on from them. Plus he refuses to abandon his sister again. It’s a lot more real and relatable than other, less subtle hero moments. I think whether or not he is on par with the other Avengers is up to you-- he did help end a threat that could have destroyed the world, so that looks pretty good on his resume 😂

Maybe he doesn't match with the other Avengers because, compared to some of them, he didn't have to sacrifice as much? Self sacrifice is a big theme for superheroes. Like, Steve died to save the world and lost most of his family and friends when he woke up in the future. Thor had to destroy his home. Natasha gave her life to save the universe. Bruce chose to continue helping people despite never being able to have a normal life again. And as contrived as I think it was, Tony sacrificed himself to save the universe, too.

You could say Shang Chi's sacrifice was losing the chance to patch things up with his father and become a family again. Because once his father saw that his mother really wasn't coming back, he just... gave up. 😞

Or if the issue of him not being a hero on par with the Avengers is with his past as a child assassin... That's a little unfair, because he was 7 when his mother died in front of him and his father started training him for revenge. In fact, he chose to run away from that life as soon as he could 😛 I would argue that choosing to do the right thing despite going through years of terrible abuse, like with Natasha and Bucky, makes these characters more heroic 🤷

[handlewcaare]

Reverence became irrelevant with each battle won. The triumph of an unparalleled blade could easily be usurped with another breezy battle. However, Kamikaze could never promise the fights he endured would be without injury. At least, not in the first few years of his training.

“AND STAY THE HELL OUT!” The lone disciple of Daisuke howled at the retreating members of the Fushikawa Dojo. His sanguine seeped through his red cloak and there was an evident flourish of a lavender bruise under his eye. Despite his injuries, he managed to petrify one of them by cutting through their ragged blade with his own.

Even as the Fushikawa Tigers barked back worse insults, Kamikaze was deaf to the fools by the time he closed the door.

“You’re hurt again,” a tired tone simmered from the far corridor of the dojo. From the corner of Kamikaze’s eye did he find his medic simply stare at him. The boy was five years his junior, yet dabbled in medicine as much as he dabbled in bladework. A devestating combination if the boy was ever in the midst of battle. The twelve year old continued, “d’ya need my help?”

“No,” The seventeen-year-old Kamikaze retorted. What lethargic melody he would conjure later in his prime had not fully developed. To master his swordsmanship required his utmost reverence, even if it was at the cost of a sliced shoulder.

Regardless of his protest, the little medic retrieved his first aid kit, “I’m gon’ help you.”

“Seriously, Yedo, I—!” The instant the boy tried to inspect his wound, he suppressed the urge to grunt out in pain. The odor of copper was as pungent as the harangue of his foolhardy onslaught.

“You’re gonna need stitches prolly.”

“Gee, I wouldn’t have figured that one out.”

“You wanna do this yourself?”

“Sure, just give me the needle,” as soon as Yedo actually provided it, Kamikaze couldn’t get a decent glimpse toward the gash over his trapezium. His brows furrowed at the smug look the medic provided him until he surrendered his attempt.

His pride was always a bitter pill to swallow, so much so that even his Sensei in his prime had noticed. What fervent yearning to blaze through his opponents had been questioned by the placid and composed Daisuke.

A powerful man, Daisuke was, underneath the masquerade of a humble and jovial elderly man. The aroma of lavender and honey tea simmered between Kamikaze and his Sensei as they played Shogi. Yedo slept soundlessly upstairs after a long day of bickering with Kamikaze.

“You seem disgruntled,” Daisuke noted without looking up at Kamikaze. His fingers tapped the piece along the shogi. It was often a beckon for him to pop open the lid of his emotions.

“I should have finished them,” them being a reference to the bastards who dared to insult Daisuke’s techniques. Albeit they were quick to hush under the heat of his temper. It wasn’t a flawless victory, but it was one that prompted the idiots to flee with their tails between their legs.

“Knowing your opponent is as good as knowing your own weaknesses,” Daisuke reminisced as he watched Kamikaze make a hasty mistake with his shogi piece. His forgiveness came in the form of a stalling move, “you should know better than waste your techniques in a fruitless battle, Kami.”

“They disrespected you,” the adolescent snarled as he snapped a piece.

“But they did not disrespect you,” his Sensei said, “you are as great as the villains you face.”

Those words would be what Kamikaze would carry heavy along his shoulders for the rest of his life. A word of precaution he would offer in times of his disciples’ ill-tempers. Blatant disrespect would not be forgiven if it was directed toward one’s own achievements.

He hadn’t known the weight of those words then.

Once, he, Bushidrill and Yedo were tasked to run small errands at the village had everything changed. It always is just a singular occurrence, but that breadth had sculpt him into the very man he needed to be.

Both he and Drill were just a little over 23 and Yedo had just grown into an 18 year old. Oftentimes would the errands be as minuet as getting groceries for an elderly woman or fending off a wild dog near the Tori gates.

“ ‘m just saying, the alphabet cities would be a nice place to live in,” Yedo shrugged as he carried the pails of water for the well near their dojo.

“What, and deal with the pollution? The expensive cheap garbage you can just make here?” Kamikaze quipped as he hauled the wheelbarrow.

“Maybe I want to be considered as a real doctor, ever thought of that?”

“You’re a real one,” Bushidrill assured, the strain of lifting a large stack of hay was hardly enough to make him sweat, “you tend to Kami’s shit all the time.”

“Aye-!”

Both the medic and the practical brick house spared shit-eating grins toward the petulant samurai. It never gave him an eery sensation that something was amiss. There was no poetic declaration, no shift in the ambiance near the trees.

The only omen was the destroyed paper walls. The wooden floors stained with sanguine petals and the furniture had been completely split in half. Only one man knew how to make a clean cut like that.

“...Sensei??”

Kamikaze dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow and rushed inside. The closer he got to the main room, the more trauma he witnessed. The two others also made as much haste as he had. The kois laid limp in a pond tarnished in poison, the branches of the neighboring tree caved into the side of the rooftop, even the deck had cautioned the three of them to keep such a memory of Daisuke alive.

Perhaps they should have, but Kamikaze’s vanity refused to keep him ignorant.

In a throne of destroyed furniture laid the crumpled king. Daisuke’s head bowed as his breathing had been interjected by the blade through his diaphragm. Each breath was but a whistle of a wheeze from his dying lips.

Yedo’s eyes widened as he cupped his mouth. Bushidrill could only watch in horror as Kamikaze practically scrambled to run toward his dying Sensei. The splinters were unfelt underneath the soles of his feet and even as he tripped over the disembodied table leg, he continued to hastily hold Daisuke’s body.

“Yedo,” His baritone quivered at the name, his brows twitched as he suppressed the urge to weep, “you... you gotta...”

No medical expertise could have healed the wounds Daisuke was currently enduring. Even as Yedo’s lips quivered and fat dewdrops of tears stained his supple cheeks, he could only muster a quiet shake of his head.

“C-C’mon!” He barked as he stubbornly refused to acknowledge that this was the end; that Daisuke’s final moments had already passed. It was over the moment they got there, but he didn’t want to let go of his Sensei just yet. “g-get your medical supplies an’ ... and...”

By the time Bushidrill’s hand rested atop of Kamikaze’s shoulder, he finally choked up his pride and wept. He couldn’t afford to let the others witness him in fragments, to stare down at the pride he couldn’t absorb and scatter along the limp body that he held upright.

Such remorse of untimely endings wrought grief. With such grief came furor at the familiar blade. The ones who disrespected his Sensei all those years ago, the ones who he challenged and chased off, held a similar weapon of this one’s caliber. The end of the hilt was accented with a insignia: a snarling tiger.

Kamikaze was fervent and peckish for a thrilling encounter at times, but he was no fool.

When he bid his farewells to his peers, he would have assumed it was the final one.

That evening hall marked him as the fastest samurai. The evening in which the Fushikawa clan celebrated the assassination of Daisuke at their respective dojo was when Kamikaze had fully rejuvenated a hellish speed. No demon—cybernetic or phantasmic—could have paralleled to the speed he utilized when he faced them in their entirety.

Even as their own blades punctured through his shoulder, he continued to persist. Even as he winced when the jagged edge of one’s dagger pierced through his side, he continued to persist. The aroma of salt and copper blended into a nauseating cologne he adorned for the event. Yet, with each injury only prompted him to accelerate his thrashing onslaught. To be extra spiteful, he diced through the flesh, muscle and bone as one would cleave the meat of a fresh kill.

The head of the Fushikawa clan offered a wistful smile toward his furor, as if expectant of it. “You know he wouldn’t have wanted you to do this.”

He didn’t care.

“Daisuke was always quite weak.”

I don’t care, Kamikaze thought as he unsheathed his blade.

“You must know, I—!”

“I don’t care.”

It wasn’t until the four samurai that stood to guard the headmaster had suddenly been sliced apart with but a thread of scarlet.

Nothing else quite sobered him up like the relentless glare Kamikaze spared him. He hadn’t even the time to hastily retrieve his blade when he felt his arm go numb by the bite of something unbecoming. When he realized his arm had been disembodied, he was already dead by the hand of an angered man.

By the end of the final blow, Kamikaze panted and attempted to return to his ruined home. His hair curtained over his shoulder and his sweat and blood felt like ice when he began to trudge through the greetings from winter. His feet felt numb as he carried himself through the thick penumbra of snow, only barely catching himself along his knees.

He didn’t know if the apparition of a figure through the blizzard was Daisuke or if it was someone else. He had only heard a minuscule of a shout before he fully collapsed into the snow. There was comfort in the cold, gelid embrace; something he found within as he let his consciousness seep from his fingers.

Every now and then, Kamikaze thinks back to when he was younger. He wouldn’t say he had aged that much, but Yedo’s relentless teases about it would provoke a guttural ‘can it’. The bastard has a PhD and still is a snarky little shit.

Yedo deliberately threaded the needle within pallid skin that surrounded the brutal gash. “Kama really did a number on ya, huh?” Kamikaze murmured to himself as he watched the doctor stitch up the quiet boy who made not a sound as the injury was tended to.

“Maybe he should have been faster~!” The dimpled girl chirped jovially as she twirled her deadly weapon along the edge of her hand. Truly, Kamikaze’s arrogance spread like a disease.

The pale boy made not a sound, but he did quietly exhale in frustration, “give me another chance,” he said with as much composite as he could muster.

“I think your both done for the day,” the samurai retorted as he folded his arms across his chest. Albeit, Yedo had finished, Iaian could not shelter his flustered demeanor.

“I-I can keep going!” Iaian protested.

“Iai—“

“I wanna prove myself and be—!”

“Iai.”

Immediately did the disciple hush and bow his head. His apology was completely unnecessary, but Kamikaze could only offer a soft chuckle as he rested his hand atop of the boy’s crown.

“You’re as great as the villains you face,” Kamikaze stated, “prove yourself when you’re physically able to.”

It was only after Iaian complied with a nod that he allowed the two youngest disciples retreat to meditate or idly play shogi with Drill.

Yedo couldn’t help but offer a quiet laugh when the two of them saw Iaian practice with a training dummy, knowing fully well he might pop a fresh stitch, “he’s just like you, Y’know that?”

To acknowledge the strong was to also be aware of their potential. Kamikaze only sufficed to provide a simper, “he is.”

[ravageknight-eternal]

Reptilians/Saurians - Ancient earthly civilization of intelligent dinosaurs. Master manipulators of biology and genetics, dwell mostly underground or in jungle/desert environments. Utilize biotechnological advances made from living organisms, strictly hierarchal and warlike, but honorable, and intelligent.

Architects/Ancients - Mysterious constructors of immense megaliths on Earth, across the System, and across the galaxy. Structures seem to activate for various purposes, and are extremely advanced, almost magical. No one has ever observed an actual Architect..

Elders(?)- Another very old civilization. Considered the progenitors of mankind. Very obviously related to us, and often adopt lofty personas and behaviors to lord over their creations and their worlds. Excessive, gluttonous. Prone to destroying the life they create out of spite when they are surpassed. Essentially vampirish and elvish, but from space.

Formics/Colony/Brood - Galactic locust-horde, wandering across the stars, hungrily consuming all matter to make more of themselves. Live in gigantic swarms of moving converted planets, vessels, asteroids, comets, etc. Despite their seemingly mindless conversion, the Brood demonstrates complex and intelligent behavior that showcases a deep hive-minded structure coupled with intensive, adaptive individual personalities that manifest as exceptional beings within the colonies. These individuals seem separate from the basic drone-worker rank and file with personal behaviors, ornate armor, and more. The amassing of their species on Earth and bizarre defensive structures pointed skyward seem to indicate they’re running from something with a bigger appetite than themselves..

Greys - Small, seemingly cybernetic brings that are known for abductions. Common on Earth, and considered a basic phenomena in the daily lives of people on Earth, even prior to Contact. Small Greys, Tall Greys. While rarer, it is known that an organized, or supposedly militaristic, faction does exist, with uniforms, weapons, and all. Their exact purpose on Earth seems to be hidden from those they take, as it is known and common for Greys to often mislead those they abduct. The immense hatred of Greys by nearly all extraterrestrial factions on Earth seems to speak to some vast, horrid crime or agenda. Huh.

Overlords - Despite the name, Overlords are generally diminutive beings, smaller than the average Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Despite their almost laughable size, Overlords are the ultimate psychic and psionic brings. Their manipulative minds can shatter even the powerful psychological technology of the Greys with utter ease. They are considered nightmarish thought-beings, creatures that harvest the minds and consciousness of intelligent species for nefarious, unthinkable processes that remain unseen in the depths of their labyrinthine configurations. It is known that beyond them is a colossal apparatus at work across the cosmos, hungrily draining the terrors, thoughts, and minds of every thinking world in their path..

Automatons/Machinations/Constructs - The churning clanking and clattering of these living devices is an unsettling roar across the most desolate regions of the Earth. No one actually knows how, or when, or why these mechanisms have manifested on Earth. Their complex, orbiting, flowing metal-light bodies crackle with lightning and plasma. They bear weapons that can effectively, completely erase one from existence, particle by particle. Their structures gnaw at spacetime; clockwork fortresses that summon colossal automaton lords. As of now, everyone leaves these guys alone.

Aurora/Essences - Living energy beings, and worshipped by crystal-clutching clergies and cults. Although they’ve got a quirky following, the Auroras are essentially harmless wanderers, living and thinking particle winds that have seen billions and billions of worlds across immense eons.

Nordics/Arayans - Bone-pale, beautiful, immortal blonde haired people from beyond the stars. And genocidal annihilators who gifted Nazi Germany horrific weaponry against the Allies. When they finally learned of the defeat of their Earthly Champions, the Nordics decided they would finish the job Adolf couldn’t. Their lyrical, lovely voices are simply a poetic distraction from their omnicidal campaign they’ve carried out across the Orion Arm. Currently, they occupy much of Russia, working with the secretive Fourth Reich to eliminate all unclean from the Urals to Siberia. Extremely wanted war criminals by the Federation.

Atlanteans/Lemurians - Magical, prehistoric precursor humanity who dwells on sunken continents in the Indian and Atlantic oceans. Their technology manipulates the fundamental physical structure of water and ice, remaining unseen (and undisturbed) for millennia on the Earth.

Imperials/Royals - A collection of alien races from around the Milky Way currently in a severe civil war after the split between their Empire (the Void Emperor) and a ruthless royal family (The Line of Cygnus). Most species are non-human, and non-humanoid as well, via their origination outside of the Creator Sphere. The Royal Occupation of Earth has actively manipulated numerous earthly nations to support their battle against the Empire, promising technological magic and “enlightenment” for genetic material, resources, et all. Meanwhile, the Empire occupies a portion of at least every major body in the Solar System, almost laughably massive, but hasn’t attacked yet. Bureaucratic talks with the Federation continue.

Federation - Another collection of interstellar aliens. A well-to-do and extremely altruistic, but commanding, organization that does its best to manage galactic affairs. While their actions may be slow via lengthy paperwork and diplomatic organizing, the Federation is no laughing matter when it comes to business. Many galactic forces of serious ability defer to the Federation, and countless alien factions on Earth have come to at least attempt to respect the might of the Federation. Humanity generally likes these guys.

Holy Terror - A fanatical religious nightmare that slips through the Galaxy aboard gigantic, gothic Cathedral-Ships. Damp, gnarled interiors illuminated by black fire burning candles. Hallowed tremors echo, the music of terrible choirs. The religion of these horrid beings is poorly understand, but one thing is known: they will convert your civilization, or erase it. Conversion is a horrific process of mutilation, parasitic infestation, and outright consumption by undying powers housed deep in the bowels of those grotesque vessels. Erasure is equally brutal, with terrifying abominations unleashed to completely eradicate all life. The Fleet at Earth is said to be commanded by their God itself, and by the foul, obsidian flames that orbit that behemoth ship: it seems the stories are true..

Blue Sphere Alliance - “Spiritual” aliens who care about consciousness and freedom of their fellow Blue Sphere inhabitants. Funny enough, the Blue Sphere is a reference to a singular location in the Milky Way Galaxy almost entirely inhabited by multiple, intelligent, humanoid aliens. We, and almost all alien factions on Earth, represent natives to the Sphere. The Alliance desperately wishes to rejoin the Creator, the fabled maker of intelligent and humanoid beings in the Galaxy. On Earth, the Alliance is well-liked because of its physical efforts to ensure order and freedom continue to exist. Thanks to their intervention, things like cancer and malaria are memories of the past. Sadly though, war remains. Still working on that one.

Daemons/Demons/Archons - The Nine Archons. The ultimate evil currently present on the planet. Vast, unified hatred that commands a limitless army of demonic horrors who hunger for every soul and mind on Earth. The Dragon Army. Shivering, painful creatures who serve a terrible immensity older than time itself. Their ziggurats loom up out of the Mesopotamian desert, black as night, with gigantic triangular warships. Countess worshippers praise on those endless steps. Human and Alien alike fear what dwells in those leviathan tombs..

[ultimaa]

Analyzing and theorizing about Shingeki no Kyojin

I can not avoid comparing the happenings of Shingeki no Kyojin with historical events, from the Roman Empire to World War II. In addition, the mythological content of the work also leads to a comparison with the beliefs of Classical Antiquity. At this point, I would like to talk about Ymir Fritz; However, before that... I need to tell you about the Roman Empire, specifically about its founding myth and what really happened.

Who has not heard of Romulus and Remus. The two brothers who started it all. The myth considers them children of Mars (the Greek Ares), god of war, who engendered them in Rhea Silvia. She was the daughter of Numitor, king of Alba Longa who had been overthrown by his brother Amulius. The mother had to abandon them, but the children were saved by Luperca, a wolf who suckled them. Then they were found and raised by a couple of pastors. The brothers discovered the nobility of their lineage and went to return Alba Longa to his grandfather Numitor.

They succeeded, but both wanted a city of their own. Then they had their differences. Romulus wished to build the city on the Palatine Hill, while Remus preferred the Aventine Hill. The only solution was to count vultures: Remo saw six, while Romulus saw twelve. The winner traced the limits of his city and assured that he would kill anyone who crossed them. Guess what? Remus was emboldened, entered the territory of his brother and Romulo fulfilled his word, becoming a fratricide.

That is the founding myth of Rome. Therefore, it does not correspond to reality. However, in Shingeki it could be. I explain. Each side has an idea about Ymir Fritz; The Marleyans considered that she agreed with the Devil, Eren Krueger believed that Ymir came into contact with the genesis of the matter and Onyankopon suggested that perhaps Ymir received his power from a divinity. Well, now think about everything I've told you, in Rome too: AND IF YMIR FRITZ DID NOT DEAL WITH THE DEMON, NEITHER ENTERED INTO CONTACT WITH THE ORIGIN OF EVERYTHING? What if everyone is wrong ... except Onyankopon? Ymir may have been the daughter of a god, like Romulus and Remus, becoming the first ruler of the House Fritz and the first ever titan shifter, in the same way that Romulus became the first king of Rome and the father of all Romans.

And if we mix myth with reality? Okay, let's say that Ymir has a divine origin, being a descendant of a deity. Well, what do we do with her people, the Erdians? The true origin of Rome is not found in a fraternal discussion; although it still is not clear,  everything points to this glorious civilization was the result of the union of different peoples, Latins, Sabines, Etruscans (being these the most advanced), etc, which were fighting each other. Romulus, as the first king, promulgated common laws and customs. Roman laws and customs. Maybe Ymir Fritz saw himself in the same situation: a potpourrí of people who did not understand each other, who were enemies or who had been enemies, but who were under the charge of the same person. At this point, Ymir would do the same as Romulo and create a common culture with characteristics of each nation.

The Romans contributed much to architecture, art, politics and all areas of life. They built bridges, forums, basilicas, circuses, etc. They were practical people who sought the public utility of their buildings. Does not this remind you of what Grisha Jaeger said about Ymir and her people? Grisha was convinced that Ymir built bridges, sowed the fields, etc; in general, Jaeger believed that Ymir Fritz made mankind prosper, just as the Romans did.

I think frankly that Ymir brought a lot of progress and a time of splendor ...

... but I also believe that Erdia had to fight many wars.

I mentioned the Etruscans before. These allied with other peoples to fight against Rome, but were defeated and absorbed by the Romans. The same thing happened to Marley; they had nothing to do with a power like Ancient Erdia. However, when civil wars struck the Erdian Empire, they took advantage of and took control of the continent. They had defeated the infamous Erdians, who had done them so much harm! I do not doubt that the Erdians behaved brutally with the Marleyans, but we all know that no nation has conquered another with kisses and roses. The Marleyans could only see the pain of their homeland, but NOT the great advances that Ymir had promoted. They were blind with hatred and resentment (something that is understandable, because no one wants to be conquered) and they gave their truth to the world: YMIR HAD COVENANTED WITH THE DEMON AND SUMMARED THE WORLD IN A DARK AGE.

We can not blame them. After all, the god of the enemy is our enemy, our devil.

But Marleyans are not saints either. The old wars DO NOT justify confining the Erdians in ghettos and using them as cannon fodder. Because those Erdians are innocent. If someone in the fandom is able to justify Erdian segregation, that person has a problem. Think, for example, of the Germans. Yes, the Nazis did a lot of damage and ended up with millions of people, BUT THAT DOES NOT WANT TO SAY THAT THE CURRENT GERMANS MUST PAY FOR THEIR CRIMES. That's why the Nuremberg trials were held.

There are no guilty or villains or a dark side in SNK: only revenge, resentment and ambition. The past is just an excuse, the veracity of the facts is not important. Marleyans and Erdians need a reason to hate each other and have the best. As I see it, there are only three solutions to this millennial conflict.

a. Peace. Each side should recognize their mistakes, leave their weapons and dialogue.

b. May the best win. The problems between Erdia and Marley are irreconcilable and the war will end when one country destroys the other.

c. The bilateral catastrophe. Both nations are destroyed by a third country or by an alliance.

I am inclined to the last two options. I think Erdia will beat Marley, but ... that's just the tip of the iceberg. After Eren attacked Liberio, where an international summit was held with ambassadors from all over the globe, the whole world is against Erdia. Okay, maybe Eren will finish Marley. Certainly, it seems that the Marleyans are betting everything in the invasion of the current arc of the manga. They need to put an end to the Erdians of the walls and, above all, they need the power of the TITAN FOUNDER to preserve the military hegemony. I think of the Ardennes Counteroffensive, Hitler's last attack on the allies, which failed. However, both the Nazis and the Allies suffered a large number of casualties: Germany suffered 83,000 casualties among the dead and wounded, and the Allies suffered a total of 102,576 casualties. The Allies lost much more because the German Army was superior and, despite this, they won. I think the Erdians will win thanks to the power of the Titans, thanks to the RUMBLING, because the Marleyan troops are clearly superior.

Recently it was revealed an audio that contained the end of the work. The din of a battle ... the battle against the world? This is very ironic and twisted on the part of the Master Isayama. The fall of the walls has always been a symbol of freedom and union. The fall of the Berlin Wall was a big step towards the end of the Cold War. Nevertheless, the fall of Maria, Rose and Sina would suppose the liberation of the colossal titans, that is to say, the activation of the rumble of the earth. Here we come to the man who will decide the destiny of humanity: Eren Jaeger.

We still do not know what happens in the head of our suicidal bastard (in fact, his vital state is also doubtful), but I dare say he will do the following:

-To end with the era of the titans and, therefore, with the possibility of Erdian supremacy. For this we must liquidate the colossal locked in the walls, but how the hell are you going to get rid of thousands and thousands of colossal, if only one of them killed almost the entire Legion and calcined Armin? Well, Eren can control them and maybe he can get rid of them. If this happened, Eren would fulfill what he said as a child: "I'm going to kill the titans." However, he would no longer do it for revenge or hatred, but for the common good. That would be a way to redeem the character.

How would Eren get rid of the colossal? Well, it's simple ... THE OCEAN. It is well known that the titans do not approach the water and the ocean could be a good tomb for the giants of fifty meters. In our world, the deepest part of the ocean is in the Mariana Trench, 10,000 meters deep. Imagine our Eren commanding those moles towards the unfathomable depths. The sea symbolizes life because everything started in the water, but it also refers to death in a more poetic sense (in the work of Antonio Machado it is very frequent) because all the rivers (the lives) flow into the sea (the death). In addition, the importance of the ocean in Shingeki no Kyojin is already made clear in the first chapters, when Armin dreams of reaching it.

Does this mean that Eren supports Zeke's plan? No, I do not think Eren intends to sterilize his people. I never believed it, especially when the supposed final panel of the manga was unveiled. I believe without doubt that the baby is Erdian; Son of a protagonist? I don’t know, but I do Erdian. And the dialogue, that "you are free", would mean that the coming generations are free of the legacy of Ymir, of the titans, of the terrible past ... and of the titan shifters.

Things as they are: as long as there are titan shifters, there will be war to control them. How do we get rid of them without any baby inheriting it? Well, I'll leave that to Isayama 😊

Suppose that the Titans are truly exterminated, then how will Paradis defend itself from its numerous enemies? Even if Hizuru helped them, the Erdians would lose. They would have two options: peace or destruction. This would be a good time for Armin. After all, Eren himself said that Armin would save humanity, and not him.

This is all. I apologize for possible spelling or grammatical errors: English is not my language.

[theorynexus]

32: FRICK YEAH, TIME TO BE VRISKA!

Also: Fudge, I am only on the second part of the first epilogue after the prologue. WELL, it looks like I won’t be able to finish this on my intended timetable.  (Not that I am surprised, honestly. If I was going to do so, it would not be while liveblogging.)   That said:   Given John is no longer 23 years old as of this page, I think I have accomplished a little something anyway. At least I no longer have to worry about surpassing Egbert’s age as I read, considering he is probably in his trillions, by now.  Or something like that. Oh, and: Haha. The second the Thief of Light shows up, she steals the narrative spotlight. :y

Absolutely sublime.

YEAH, SCREW YOU, HUSSIE!   You caused many ghosts to perma-die in very entertaining but pointless ways!    D: (Vriska continues to be almost as self-centered as ever, but appears to have improved an itsy bitsy bit. I approve.)

Now, the question is... will the door open automagically/by the hands of the Kids (leaving Vriska aghast as they presumably steal her spotlight and upend all the dramatic wonders that she expected from the weapon’s arrival), or will someone actually have to open it?  Because that could be a problem, if someone outside does have to do so. There could be more sad deaths on their way~

Which remains somewhat surprising, considering his Peter Pan-esque departure at the cave. ***wishes (Vriska) well, despite all of Vriska’s snark toward her, along with post- [S] Game Over. Terezi***

***hisses and shakes my fist at her***   BARDS CAN BE USEFUL IN BATTLE, DARNIT!!!

Heh. Is this Hussie criticizing his past self, I spy?   That said: How did he get his cuestaff back?  I have no memory of him possessing it during any of the flashes involving this final fight... .

***wonders if Tavros is going to literally backstab her, for some reason***    I like the literal interpretation of Thief of Light, there. That is indeed how eyes work! Oh, and I wonder what Tavros is actually doing, as well. Obviously, Vriska’s description is unreliable.

HAH.   Pretty great.  I wonder if the fabric of reality is getting thinner/more vulnerable, if that is all it takes. Hmm.

... Is she about to die?  Because she stayed to watch? That would be rather ironic. Killed by her own vanity, then.

It’s funny how the description of things gets more poetic as she loses more blood.  On the other hand, it’s sad that the 8s are appearing more, as she loses her grip. Rather ominous in the context of the 8-Balls being in English’s court, as it were. Also the black hole that they represent in the background. Vriska refusing Tavros’ help (continuing to undervalue him) is particularly foreboding since, as a Page of Breath, he’s to some extent exactly what she needs: someone who can give her the ability to escape a slippery situation.

Oh gosh... this does not bode well at all. Precisely the scenario I was fearing is playing out.

Yep... exactly as I thought. She was always destined for the black hole, no matter how it was actually made. I wonder, will she actually be dramatically rescued as she’s passing in, as was the hope of all who cared for her safety? I’m sure that’s what Terezi will try to do, which will make this even harder if, well... Why couldn’t she go to the door and turn the handle? To be a hero is to be forced to sacrifice for the sake of the Good, but...

She can’t even...  ***shakes my head and lets it begin to dip low***

Some could, I imagine, but in that state...

SAVE HER, OBI JOHN KENOBI--- YOU’RE HER ONLY HOPE!!!

~~~ Edit: 

I think that John’s glasses breaking might have been preemptive symbolism for the loss of Vriska-- the loss of Light. I don’t know how to feel about that.  It’s very painful in the pits of my stomach.  Beautiful, but... .

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of Marvel: Week of July 17th, 2019

Best of this Week: Uncanny X-Men #22 (Legacy #644) - Matthew Rosenberg, Salvador Larroca, David Messina, GURU-eFX and Joe Caramagna

It’s the end of an era and for once, I’m terrified.

I’ve been a fan of the X-Men for a long time. I’d even go so far as to say that they’re my favorite team in all of comics ever because of the range that their stories can go, from tales of marginalization to various stories of abuse and moral relativism, the X-Men have been amazing so why has it taken them so long to feel relevant again? At some point even the best books run out of good stories to tell or end up retreading old waters for a drink of nostalgia and that’s been the X-Men for the last five to six years. 

Cyclops had become what Magneto was, young versions of the original five were brought to the future, villains like Mojo and Exodus were brought back, Sentinel threats reemerged, X-Men died and were brought back. In the grand scheme of things, it was all a mess with no cohesive direction and Marvel noticed. In comes Matthew Rosenberg who, I admittedly, was very wary of because I hated both his time on Astonishing X-Men and the Multiple Man mini-series. I don’t know if it was all his idea, but he decided to wipe the slate clean with a new Uncanny X-Men series and… it was stupendous from start to finish.

In the aftermath of Emma Frost’s actions from the last issue, the X-Men that are still on our Earth have found a peace that Mutants have never known. With humanities knowledge of mutants erased, Scott Summers is at a loss and questioning what his role in life is now that no one needs protecting. He and Dani Moonstar, aka Mirage, wax poetic on the nature of mutations and what their next course of action is. Scott is morose, seeing as his mutation made him function primarily as a weapon to fight back against humanity as it tried to destroy him, but now that they don’t know he exists, what is he good for?

The dynamic between them is interesting. Scott has been fighting since he was a teenager and he’s only ever seen this life as one big war. Dani is still young, but has the experience of several lifetimes and all that she can think of is helping people. Both of them have experienced loss but process it differently. Scott sees all of his friends as soldiers in the fight where Dani sees them as family. Of course this is because Scott has been leading everyone for so long and Dani has gone through thick and thin with the New Mutants, the Fearless Defenders and the X-Men themselves. 

This causes a disagreement between the two and she simply walks away from him as Alex Summers, aka Havok, speaks with his brother about the freedom of being ignored over being targeted. On their way back to the Hellfire Mansion, Alex explains that every bit of leadership he’s ever had to exhibit was learned from Scott. Even with all of his brooding, Scott has been a great leader and it definitely helped when Alex was an Avenger, and he lets his brother know that he’s thankful for it before they’re attacked by some kind of golden Sentinel.

Scott’s unable to damage it and Alex surmises that they’ll never make it back to the mansion before the Sentinel kills them both, so in an act of self sacrifice, knowing that his powers won’t affect Scott, he self destructs and destroys the evil machine. Soon after, more arrive under the control of the General that originally help Emma Frost captive and target the remaining mutants. The battle is hard fought with heavy casualties before the rest of the X-Men return from Nate Grey’s utopian world, winning the battle for mutantkind.

This is the final issue of Uncanny X-Men and it ends on a bittersweet note.

*Slight SPOILERS BELOW*

Havok, a man who was on top of the world, brought low and tried to climb his way back up made the ultimate sacrifice just so that his brother could continue being the leader he is. Madrox, who was just brought back to life has met yet another grisly end, but the status quo has reset though very similarly to the Astonishing X-Men or Mutopia eras in a way. Jean Grey has returned to Scott, Emma and Magneto appear to be on the side of angels again and the X-Men are choosing not to hide anymore.

Shifting focus from this amazingly written and fantastically drawn book, I want to look towards the future and the threads left untied. House of X begins next week and I don’t know how to make heads or tails of things. Who is the man with the giant globe on his head? Is it professor X who had recently taken over the body of Fantomex and is now known as X? Will Magneto ever make use of the Brotherhood he established late last year? What will happen to Illyana now that she’s a demon again? I don’t know, but I am very excited.

This run was great. Rosenberg wrote everything in the most dire way possible given the situation and it fit each and every month. Scott remained hopeful in the face of ever present adversity, flanked by Logan who back up almost all of his actions. Characterizations were great from Dani acting as a voice of reason and Hope being a militaristic badass and the surprisingly black humored Jamie. Larroca’s art never faltered in being action packed but also still and dark.

Whatever comes next from this team, I have high hopes for.

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

The “Superior” Spider-Man is actually starting to live up to the ideal.

Runner Up: The Superior Spider-Man #9 (Legacy #42) - Christos Gage, Mike Hawthorne, Wade von Grawbadger, Jordie Bellaire and Clayton Cowles

After the events of the War of the Realms, the Spider-Man of San Francisco is awarded the key to the city for his efforts in making sure that there were zero casualties as Frost Giants stomped their way across SanFran. He accepts the gesture, but “crime” calls him away, only it’s not a crime, he simply thinks he has better things to do with his time than deal with the trivialities of ceremonies. He heads back to his lab and converses with Anna Maria about her making him go to the ceremony and summarily dismisses his colleague Emma after she apologizes for freaking out on him on their first date. 

Otto seems to be in a bigger huff than usual and takes his frustrations out on a minor villain by the name of Turner D. Century. Century’s quickly defeated after a savage beating by Otto and the surprise appearance by Spider-Man, Peter Parker. Peter shows up at the request of Anna Maria and being one of the men who knows Otto best, he simply asks what’s wrong. Otto has been irritable, moody and angry since he saved the city and he obviously has no one to talk to.

He immediately spills to Peter that while he was able to keep San Francisco safe, thousands of people still died in the US, more abroad. He removes his mask and Hawthorne paints the face of a man that’s tortured by guilt and doubt. Otto feels that he’s the greatest mind in the world and that he should have thought of something. He doesn’t want to hear Pete say that he can’t save everyone, but it’s eating him up inside that he can’t. 

By far, this is some of the best character work and advancement that we’ve seen from Otto in a while. He tried to become a hero, tried to be a good guy while he was inhabiting Peter’s body, but now that he’s doing it on his own and seeing the fruits and consequences of his labors, he sees how hard it is. He’s becoming a good guy and I’m here for it.

After Peter tells him that he’s doing the hero thing right, Emma shows up on the roof that they’ve swung up to and Otto breaks down in tears in front of her. He tries to posture that he’s a loner and asks if he looks like someone that needs anything from anyone before being held by her. He cries in her arms and they finally go on a second date with a surprising enemy spying on them.

I love it when heroes become good guys, no matter how brief it might be, watching Otto rise before his inevitable fall is interesting. I love the fact that he’s sort of mended fences with Anna Maria, I love that he’s found a near intellectual equal in Emma. He has a life and is using his smarts as a teacher and a hero in San Francisco. His ego is still huge, but he’s finally starting to see his faults, becoming Superior than Doctor Octopus.

Mike Hawthorne’s art is stellar. He has a talent for faces and body language. Otto expresses frustration, annoyance and grief; not only in his face, but with the slumping of his shoulders, the shaking in his hands and the tension in his fists. He even somehow finds a way to differentiate between Peter and Otto's bodies given that Otto's is cloned.

This Superior Spider-Man has far more emotion in this one issue than Otto's had in the many years since the original run. It's a joy to see the once horrible villain embrace his own good emotions for the benefit of others. This is a definite high recommend!

[randomnameless]

welp everyone’s dead or MIA

basically church route is the “remember those 3 youths with attitude? They’re done for”

and given how Rhea can also kick the bucket when she’s the main reason the plot exists, save for Edel’s… edelness, I think this is the actual worst path :’(

So, to make it short, Billy and Seteth joined forces, everyone joins not because WTF EDEL but because we promise to meet in the monastery 5 years ago, and some more avatar worship bullshit going on.

Then Judith meets us in a volcano (yay!) saying that she will give us troops, but a guy from the kingdom ambushed us, and from his words alone he isn’t really wanting to do that, but he’s only following orders… I felt worse for that guy than I felt for Metodey’s death, maybe because that old guy in the kingdom wasn’t getting high on killing us…

Ashe died, I killed him with Catherine for, uh, poetic justice ? ^^

Then Judith tells us that some of her guys saw Rhea being dragged away and she’s presumably in the Imperial capital, i was like “wtf” because Seteth and the local church groups didn’t get a clue about it, but apparently Judith has super spies on her side so she managed to spot Rhea when no one else did…

Poor Cyril, asking us if Lady Rhea isn’t dead in a “she’s dead right? Please tell me she isn’t” and, well, having played Edel’s route before I’d have guessed that she’s totally dead because Edel really hates her guts expect when it can be used to forge shiny new weapons but maybe Uncle Arry has a reason to keep Rhea alive (is he using her as fuel or something ?? My bro more or less finished BL and GD routes, there must be a reason why the Monica Gang can use all of those mecha weapons in those routes and a reason why they apparently can’t and are killed by Hubert and his pals with knives in Edel’s route, and the only difference I can find is Rhea so…)

I’ve grown really fond of Cyril but give me a character starting with Cy- in some sort of way and i’ll grow fond of it

We have to take over a bridge next, we kick Ladislava’s butt (apparently she’s devoted and grateful to Edel for a certain reason, but i can’t remember it during my run of CF, maybe because i didn’t give any figs about Edel’s NPCs) and Lorenz, who disapproves with his dad but must fight us else his randoms will suffer from the usual treatment the Empire deals to people who oppose them.

(in Petra and Bernie’s paralogue, Hubert is here to stop us to talk to Petra’s grandpapa - in CF it was Catherine, but it felt forced, why should Petra ask for her grandpapa forces/help if the Empire won and if he is already a vassal of Adrestia?? Here Hubert calls Petra ingrate or something in those lines, which is kind of funny because she ended up with him previously but w/c)

So, after the map on the bridge, Gilbert asks us to lend our forces to Dimitri to rekt Edel’s forces, but Seteth refuses, saying that we fought a hard battle and our forces need to rest, plz wait at least 2 months, Gilbert says he can’t, and says his final words (i think he also knew Dimitri’s plan was a suicidal charge).

So Dimitri’s dead, Claude’s missing and Annette, who i recruited without really wanting laments that her dad’s dead…

but we can still pick the “Edel was hurt?!” option which is supposed to be, i guess, Billy being sad and upset that she got hurt, but given how Ashe, Lorenz, Gilbert, Dimitri, Claude and all of their randoms died for her ambitions, I’m siding with Seteth here “Edel being nearly dead is the best news we had in weeks!”.

And now, apparently, Billy had an idea about infiltrating an old fort by disguising some peeps into Empire peeps.

yeah… it was late yesterday, so maybe i skipped this passage, but imo, it just appeared as a random convo with Sylvain “you’re a genius you thought about that” and i was like “i did? when?”…

Meh. This route isn’t the Church or Rhea’s route, i feel like it’s Billy’s route…

I started to like Flayn more than before on this route, she’s maybe spouting clerical usual stuff “war is bad” etc, but when we’re supposed to be lamenting over previous classmates we had to kill well… yeah, war is bad, you kill people during war and no matter what your reasons are, you can never justify a war.

#flayn4nextFElordplz

So, again, Flayn roasts someone.

maybe because Flayn spent a lot of her time (1000 years?) recovering after having healed a lot of soldiers during a previous war, so she and Seteth have actual “war experience”.

I liked the Seiros guys (church+knights) before, but at least in this route they’re not just other randoms to use if your units were RNG screwed.

When are we going to deal with uncle Arry?

[tgunn64]

Favorite Villains - Wolf O’Donnell (Star Fox)

It may not be as famous or influential as Mario or Zelda, but I have a lot of love for the Star Fox series. The dog fights piloted by dogs and other animals have a lot of charm and they’re just a blast to play. Plus they have one of the funnest rivals a video game has set a player against, Wolf O’Donnell and the Star Wolf team. Wolf makes his first appearance somewhat spontaneously in the midst of Star Fox 64, interrupting your missions now and then as a sub-boss of sorts, on the dollar of SF64’s true villain, Andross. You didn’t know much about them before they swooped in and started taunting you, the only real cue being Fox’s exasperated reaction, “Just who I needed to see; Star Wolf.” which despite seeming sort of rushed, I kind of love the exposition of. Just from this small interaction you immediately take in that this isn’t the first party Team Star Wolf has crashed and that they have a long and bitter history with Star Fox.

Much of Wolf’s appeal lies with his entourage, perfect foils to Fox’s team one for one. Rivaling the hotheaded Falco is the refined Leon Powalski, the reptilian right hand to Wolf. Peppy faces a ghost of his past in the form of Pigma Dengar, the avaricious former Star Fox member who sold Fox’s father, James McCloud out to Andross, causing his death, and Andrew Oikonny, the youngest of Star Wolf, is the nephew of Andross himself and rivals the equally green Slippy Toad. The way the dynamic equals out makes Team Star Wolf incredibly memorable and adds to their own relevance as well as that of Fox’s own team. A lot of the game, Falco, Peppy, and Slippy kinda just babble in your ear and provide occasional moral support--but the introduction of Star Wolf gives them their own demon to face. In addition to Fox and Wolf having their old animosity, Leon’s condescension, Andrew’s bullying, and Pigma’s toxic taunting give Team star Fox something besides money and a mission to fight for, and that makes those particular battles with Star Wolf the most memorable and cathartic to win out. What’s most interesting about Wolf is how despite working for Andross, he has really no connection outside of employment. Wolf doesn’t care if Andross achieves his goals, he’s only really accepting yet another job that he knows comes with a chance to outdo his rival, Star Fox. There’s no power or loyalty in it for Wolf, he’s just lost to Fox too many times to him finish a mission in peace. That said, Wolf would sooner give his own life before allowing someone besides himself kill Fox. As proven by when he put his neck on the line to stop the Aparoid’s final invasion, if anyone is gonna skin Fox, it’s gonna be Wolf.

With this in mind there’s a bizarre pragmatism mixed with a surprising passion there in Wolf. Between SF64 and Assault, Wolf dismissed Pigma and Andrew from his team--the former for his detrimental greed and the latter for having a clear loyalty to Andross over Wolf himself. Both were replaced by newcomer Panther Caruso, a ladies man (cat?), but most notably, no matter how much he shakes up the Star Wolf team, he keeps Leon close to himself as the second Star Wolf member. Their bond is a bit unspoken, but no matter how standoffish either one seems neither acts toxic to one another. There’s even an instance in Super Smash Bros. Brawl where you can trigger conversations from other Star Fox characters (a la Snake’s Codecs or Palutena’s guidance) playing as Fox, Falco, or Wolf on the Lylat stage--and Leon is so impressed by Wolf’s physical fighting prowess that he gets carried away admirably gushing about it to Panther’s utter bewilderment. Although neither would ever admit it, I think Wolf and Leon have a rather genuine kinship. Speaking of Smash, similar to King K. Rool, Wolf is able to explore elements of himself in battle that he never could in his source games. Like a pro-wrestler he lets out a seemingly trademark howl in battle that the fourth wall crowd even imitates for his character chant. He’s notably willing to get his hands dirty in battle, utilizing his claws and alike dirty tactics, which reflects his history as a space pirate as opposed to Fox and Falco’s more formal military combat.

Wolf’s dedication to money and himself mirrors Fox, who is indeed a mercenary for money but one of honor and takes jobs from the Cornerian military. It kinda makes one question where the line is for “good mercenary work”, the fact that Fox and Wolf both hail from such similar lines of work is poetic enough to make one question the ethics of destroying monkey satellites en masse. Even with that in mind, Wolf is almost an unconventional teacher figure to Fox too. The Aparoids, parasitic aliens that take over host bodies and make them into weapons of mass destruction, eventually got a hold of one of Fox’s most trusted friends, General Pepper. Fox expresses that he isn’t sure he could ever strike down someone with the face of a friend, but Wolf gives Fox the advice he needs; to not hesitate when the time comes. Coming from a more treacherous line of pilots than Fox, Wolf has probably had to remind himself of this more than once.

And while I rarely allow fanworks to super push my opinions on a character on the scale of this one, a big thing that pushed Wolf from “childhood nostalgia favorite” to “current love” for me is the parody Youtube series, “A Fox In Space”; although I feel calling it a parody series is almost a disservice, at least with the meaning the word ‘parody’ tends to convey presently. A Fox in Space almost feels more like a full scale adaption that has a good sense of humor. They’re some of the best original animation I’ve ever seen on Youtube with writing that feels organic and animation that rivals some TV shows in my book. Wry, yet still feeling halfway serious, and with an incredibly distinct old timey aesthetic and feel that I adore, it fleshes out the whole cast of the universe, including Wolf. We see more of Wolf’s interactions with Andross’ Venomian soldiers, the latter of whom resent Wolf as they take his orders, knowing he’s only below Andross on the totem pole and more so for his piloting skills than his loyalty (or lack thereof). He’s usually left with the only choice to flash facetious and phony smiles with his razor sharp teeth when he’s under pressure, and yet he has to do very little besides this to remain in safe keeping because he really is the only one capable of matching Fox in battle. We also learn that Wolf grew up under the roof of a boozing father, who was himself an alternative to a mother called ‘crazy’ by her husband. Wolf was romantically involved with Fara Phoenix, daughter of a Cornerian politician. This gave a young Wolf a difficult complex; feeling his only identity was wrought from rebellion under the eye of his controlling father, which in turn made him feel like a troublemaker, unworthy of being in the public eye, romantically involved with a daughter of politics. Considering canon materials have remarked Fara as Fox’s girlfriend, something tells me their rivalry began here at some point (AND THIS IS ALL STILL FROM WHAT IS ESSENTIALLY ANIMATED STAR FOX FANFICTION AND IT’S BEEN ACCEPTED BY ME AS JUST CANON I DON’T EVEN QUESTION IT ANYMORE). Wolf has never been Star Fox’s main villain, but he’s always been one of my favorite aspects of that universe. For such a simple idea for a rival bad guy, he’s a bit deep, with a memorable motif, voice, and dynamic with just about every character he comes across--the kind that leaves me hungry (like the wolf, ahycuk) for more content surrounding him.

[nonopiimagines]

Fandom: Fallout: New Vegas: New California Pairing: Ben Kurtz x f!Star Player/f!Courier Warnings: n/a Word Count: 1747 Author Notes: I am most proud of this chapter. Go play New California, so good.

part iii.

Again, you felt so tired. Falling out of the sky, fighting alongside the NCR, being whisked away to Union City to celebrate, the subsequent retaliation of the raiders attacking the front gates.

You couldn't wait to sleep in a bed for once.

The rest of your companions headed to the hotel in Union City, just as eager for a break as you were. You stayed behind at the medical tent, Captain Jameson offered to bandage your wounds. As gruff as he had seemed mid-battle, he had lightened up significantly now that their gates were safe once again.

You lifted your arm as Jameson wound the clean bandage around a shallow knife wound from the battle earlier. “We could use more people like you, Y/N.”

A polite chuckle escaped your lips, followed by an equally expected smile. You didn't think about it, how you were socialized to always be nice and agreeable. It didn't matter who you were talking to, the Overseer, a caravan merchant, or someone who willingly represented a thoughtless government trying to recreate the sins of the past. You looked up at the older man, wondering if he ever thought he was on the right side.

Your eyes flicked to the front of the medical tent where Ben was watching your exchange. His face was set in a chronic frown, his dark eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he quietly turned and left the tent. You turned back to Jameson, a somber feeling coming over you.

---

Mission Palms was too good to be true. Large, immaculate homes were still intact and full of untouched supplies. The cazadores fended off most of the raiders and scavengers, but they couldn't keep you away.

You would stay the night there before heading south to Xiabula.

Something was pulling at your insides. You and your companions became closer over the last few weeks. Traveling the San Bernardino desert would do that to people. Digging through your bag, you found the last fresh carrots, potatoes, and pears from the vault. They would go bad soon but this also felt like a nice occasion to finish them. The last remaining children of the vault, enjoying the last vault meal they would have together.

You cooked the potatoes and carrots over a small fire you lit in the backyard and cut the pears into slices. Jamie and Kira were the first ones to dig in, then Eric (after making sure Jamie had enough), then you.

Ben was upstairs, gazing out the window. You remembered he said something about first watch. You felt like maybe it was an excuse. This new Ben was just as alone as the old Ben, though he didn't seem to realize he had the support of everyone, including you. Most of all, you. He could wax poetic about you leading them on this journey to find safety and maybe discover the truth about everyone's parents along the way, but he refused to let this relationship be reciprocated.

“It's getting cold.” You pushed a small plate of food onto the window sill, hoping the smell would waft up to Ben's nose. “Everyone said it was the best thing they've eaten in awhile.”

“I'm sure.” He gave it a brief look, seeming as if he were going to ignore it in favor of looking outside again. But after a moment, he used his hand to pop a carrot in his mouth.

You watched his jaw move up and down, his face not betraying his thoughts on the matter. You wondered if he missed the vault, if he missed the ignorance. He obviously thrived in this new environment, but he must remember the safety, the monotony, the easiness of the vault. Would he trade it for this life given what he knows now?

“Yeah, it's pretty good,” he admitted, though there was no surprise or praise in his voice. It was like he expected this outcome, he had no doubts your cooking was passable.

Feeling some amount of pride, you returned to the others. You talked for a time over a found bottle of whiskey, reminiscing about the vault, discussing what route to take tomorrow, wondering if the NCR would notice if your group never returned after restoring water to Union City. It was funny, none of you would've ever sat around a table drinking together even a month prior to this.

When it came time to turn in, Jamie offered to take first watch. After escaping the vault and the events that unfolded, she refused any alcohol offered. She kept saying, “when we win”, “when we're safe, really safe”, “maybe to celebrate the death of Elsdragon, that fucker.” You remember how delirious and tired and scared you were when you found out she could've warned you had she not been piss drunk. It didn't matter to you now, what's done was done. But you felt proud of her for seeing a problem and trying to fix it.

“I'd offer to share the queen bed with you, Y/N, but I'm a kicker.” Kira didn't look too sorry at her revelation, but she squeezed your shoulder anyway.

“And Jamie wouldn't like it if I slept next to someone else,” Eric chimed in, already laying his backpack down on the bottom bunk in the other room. “Besides, you deserve the big bed, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Eric,” you shook your head in defeat as you looked through the drawers of the dressers in the main bedroom. Most of the drawers were empty, but you found a baseball cap and mitt, a dirty tie, a ripped up dress. In one of the last drawers you found a real treasure. Giving a discrete glance over your shoulder to make sure everyone was occupied, you pulled out the sexy sleepwear. It looked almost untouched by the years and years of being stuck in a wooden tomb. You carefully folded it and stuffed in the bottom of your backpack just in time to see Ben walk up the stairs and into the room.

“Jamie's taking watch,” he informed, giving you a weird look for your position in the floor. He hesitated but must've decided he wasn't going to ask about it and turned to walk downstairs.

You scrambled up and tried to grab his arm, but he was too quick. You didn't want him to go and it bubbled up out of you, “Ben! Wait!”

He turned his head to look back toward you and you swore you saw a twinkle or some notion of something in his eye that emboldened you. “Where are you going?” Your voice was higher than normal, betraying what you thought was a calm demeanor.

“I'm going to rest my eyes on the couch downstairs.”

You looked at him as he said that, he had the same fatigue that the rest of you had. The bags under his eyes, the bloodshot whites, the slumped shoulders of someone who has been alert for far too long. You knew he didn't fully trust any of you, you knew he didn't ever sleep well, just so he could be ready if danger ever arose. You may be the shepherd but he was the sheepdog that protected the flock. But even he couldn't maintain this lifestyle for long.

So you appealed to the Ben you used to know.

“You took me to your room, but I never got to take you to mine.”

That intrigued him. He chuckled, a rare smile gracing his chapped lips. It was almost like no time had passed, nothing bad had happened, you were just continuing where you left off. But there was a bit more danger in his eyes, a darkness. At first you found it off-putting, but now you were beginning to understand this world and how everyone needed a bit of danger and darkness to survive. You could feel it seeping into you.

“Stay here. Sleep here.” You weren't going to beg him, but you wanted him to know that he was welcome.

He eventually nodded, coming back into the room, closing the door behind him.

--

You were wired. You tried not to think about the body behind you, the warmth it was giving off, how easy it would be to roll over and slide your arms around him. Sleep was supposed to come quickly and effortlessly after days like these. Your body was at the mercy of your mind and the stories it would weave about you and Ben.

You tried counting sheep or recalling the stack frames from the computer you hacked earlier today. You tried focusing on your breathing or the snores of Kira in the other room, but you found your ears trying to tune to Ben's breathing. Was he asleep? Was he suffering as you were? Did he ever intend to fall asleep? Is he faking it right now? Your ears strained, eventually finding the slow and steady breathing of the man next to you. At least he was finally resting.

You cautiously turned until you faced his naked back, seeing the rise and fall of his figure in the darkness. For some reason you expected him to be baby smooth like the rest of the children in the vault, but he had a patch of scars on his shoulder that dripped into his back. You couldn't tell if it was a weapon or perhaps a chemical burn. With a boldness you didn't expect, you carefully traced the edge of it with your fingers, trying to understand its existence just from the topography.

“You're playing with fire, Y/N.” A whisper, but it sounded so strong and clear. He hadn't been asleep at all.

But you didn't withdraw your hand. Instead you pressed your palm to it, feeling the tough rippled skin and the heat it emitted. You could feel him take a larger breath, followed by a slow, even exhale.

“We'll see if I get burned,” confidence oozed out of your response and you hoped he felt it too. You let your hand fall away from him and you rolled back over to face open air again, a small smile on your face.

[aurelious-auria]

He Wrote it on a Shotgun

Emperor Calus / Reader

The all-powerful god-king of the Cabal might have the hots for you, but is that really such a bad thing? This position definitely has its benefits, and maybe you don't mind being admired by him afterall...

:: Chapter 1 :: The Post-Raid

“Well this is certainly unexpected.”

Your line of sight shifts from its previous focus to follow the sound of a voice, and lands on the familiar shape of an exo nearby. She’s holding a set of armor in her hands; a beautifully crafted suit trimmed with golden metal and ornate designs, complimented by gleaming white materials. 

However, she’s not staring at this, but rather the inscription her Ghost is projecting above it; a message left by its former owner, hidden inside its make. Written in Earthen language, the paragraph reads about accepting powers beyond the Light, and as its current owner recites it...

“‘...When the time comes, seek me out. I will teach you to grow fat from strength?’ Unbelievable. We took down the bastard inside his own throne room, and then he offers us a place among his Loyalists. Is he even Cabal?”

She wonders out loud after relaying the message, and looks to you in bewilderment. In place of offering an opinion, you cast your gaze back down to your own set of armor, and frown, deep in thought. After summoning your own Ghost to take a closer look at the pieces, you personally confirm the existence of a similar invitation phrased within its workings, alongside compliments regarding your strength in battle. It’s enough to make a counter-argument with.

“I don’t know. He seems pretty Cabal to me; what with admiring an opponent’s ability to fight well. I think if most of these Cabal that we’ve killed had the opportunity to encounter us again after getting their heads blown off, they’d shake our hands.” You muse openly, looking up from your boon to meet the Hunter’s optics, a smile on your face. “They’re gentlemen like that.”

A humored snort sounds from your teammate’s vocalizer at your evaluation, and she takes the opportunity to poke fun. “You’d know better than any of us, wouldn’t you? Spending as much time on Mars as you have.” She comments, while pulling off her current gauntlets in favor of her newer, shiner ones. She flexes her fingers inside the grips, a satisfied look on her face.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve engaged Cabal in more than just battle on a few occasions.”  The android continues, her eyelights flashing mischievously in your direction. You shake your head in amused disappointment at the suggestion, and choose a neutral response to deflect with.

“You’re an idiot.” “And you’re a titan!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You challenge, raising an eyebrow. “It means, I’m not taking this conversation any further. Why haven’t you tried on your loot yet?” The Hunter diverts, still with a pleased expression plastered over her plasticine face, the smartass. 

Taking up your helmet first, you find it fits your head snugly, despite it being made by an alien species. The matching boots, grips, chestpiece, and even the mark are similarly form-fitting; forcing you to give pause for thought. You decide to address your company regarding this discovery.

“Hey, is it just me, or does this armor fit a little… too well?” You question out loud.

“It’s not just you. This cuirass is even fitted to my chest size. Of all things.” Comes a mildly troubled-sounding answer, and it’s true. Since fitting the part over her arms, she hadn’t needed to adjust a single buckle. And neither have you, for that matter.

“How in the hell did the Emperor of the Cabal manage to get our measurements?” You press. “Please, for the love of Light, that is not something I want to think about ever again.” Your friend presses back. But you’re too interested in the possible implications to relent. “Do you think he has… humans in there, somewhere?”

“You’re scaring me.”

You laugh at the reaction, but at your core, feel a little uneasy. It was as if this armor was made for you. It would seem there was still quite a bit yet to be learned about the Emperor in his world-eating ship. He did claim to have seen the end of all things, right? Maybe predicting human waist sizes were not that far off from visions of the apocalypse on the telepathic-entity scale.

…You put it out of your mind for now.

Returning to the pile of items you’d amassed from your team’s troop through the raid lair, you pick out another item to examine, the only weapon you’d been provided with following Calus’s decidedly “not death.” It was a shotgun that glimmered like surface of a lake, decorated lavishly with white and gold markings from stock to barrel, complete with, of course, another description to be read. Your Ghost provides a display, and your eyes take in the words as they appear, a growing wonder taking the place of your initial curiosity.

You’d read quite a bit of writing from the dear old Cabal ruler today, and while he tended to recant events and ideas with a certain poetic clarity, this bit truly took the cake. It felt almost… personal, to learn of this powerful alien god-king’s view on humanity, Guardians, and much to your surprise your own fireteam, here within the confines of your own ship as it orbited the Leviathan. Intrigued by these revelations, you elect to read them out loud to your companion as she sorts through her own collection of treasures, conveniently closeby. Perhaps she would see these confessions differently.

“Hey, listen to this one. Another note from the big guy.” You prompt.

“Oh?”

“‘I have come to admire how you rally against the impossible. It's not your continual success that amuses me-- your Light assures victory-- it's your refusal to kneel. You fight and you die without a second thought. For what? Personal glory? Wealth? The wretched denizens of your refugee city?’”

“Hey now, we may not be the prettiest of the two-legged, spacefaring monstrosities that populate this galaxy, but I’d hardly call us ratchet.” Your audience interjects, at the pause.

“I think he’s referring to our state of wealth, friend.” You inform, in turn.

“Oh. He would, wouldn’t he? Filthy rich space rhinocerus…”

You wave in their direction to regain their attention before you speak again. “Hush, there’s more. ‘You have made bitter foes of races older, nobler, and worthier than you. You struggle so vainly and valiantly when you have so little. When you are so little. Everything this universe has thrown against you and still you persist. I could finish you. And you would not be at my side at the dimming of the world. You, the Guardian of Guardians. If I wished it, you would die your final death. But I won't. Why? B-’”

You verbally grind to a halt before reading the final sentence, stunned into speechlessness, and sure that you weren’t actually seeing the words that you were seeing at the bottom of the inscription before you. You blink a few times and move in closer, squinting in attempt to reconfirm, while the Hunter exo adjacent to you complains over your sudden pause. Bad scan? Not a chance… Nope, it has to be real.

A look of utter disposal drains your features of its previous amicable neutrality, and the only other occupant of the spacecraft, overcome by curiosity, moves in to investigate.

“Because I’m in LOVE?!?”

She hollers, looking between you and the weapon in disbelief. You yourself can do little else other than blush, and furiously at that, then glance over to your friend with astonishment in your eyes. However, this does little to deter her from continuing to emote, and loudly.

“Emperor Calus. Emperor Calus of the Cabal Calus, is in love. With YOU?!”

“I don’t know how to feel about this.” You mutter, sight shifting to stare wide-eyed and nondescript at the wall of your ship’s fuselage beyond the item in your hand.

“He’s in love with you.” She shoots back. “Yes, I know. Please stop saying-” “IN LOVE.”

“Yes, I get it! Thank you!” You cry out, exasperated, and return to your senses long enough to close the inscription, then toss the gun aside. All of this, was utterly unexpected. Unanticipated, unprecedented, un-everything. Dispelling a heavy sigh, you turn on heel, and stride to the helm of your ship.

“Let’s just get home. I need a drink, and a long-ass bath.” You project, settling into the cockpit. “Thank the Traveler we’re not coming back here any time soon.” The voice of your passenger reassures, as she clears room for a seat, anticipating the upcoming flight.

“I’ll drink to that.” “Cheers, then.” “Cheers.”

[jakiphyr]

Jak (re)plays FE2  [Part 01]

Awright!  It’s been a good four years since I’ve last touched Gaiden fully (late Dec 2013 - Feb 2014), so I’ll be doing a challenge this time around.

This LP is brought here today by HistoryoftheEmblem’s Gaiden event Kickstarter. So feel free to join the ride, or follow along!  Now, without further ado...

Introduction

I will be doing a Gaiden Novels Canon Playthrough challenge.  I will explain what this is, then lay out the rules that are styled similar to a draft now that I look at this back over.

My Motives (a.k.a. why am I doing this) 

This run is based on Fire Emblem: Gaiden’s two-parter novels that were released back in 1993.  Scans of illustrations can be found starting here, the rest are linked from there for those interested.

After @azebraslife ‘s discovery posts about the craziness that is Silque+Kliff subplot being half-siblings, Kamui dying to a necrodragon, possessed!Delthea killing Luthier and snapping out from that…

I meant to record my in-depth findings/summaries from what I read so far off my twitter live log in June but forgot to write them down as more than just quick blurbs.  This liveplay event will help me on being continuously motivated to read these books, from start to finish.  So I’ll be using my posts to record these summary translations, so expect those inserted throughout my LP entries.

Which is OK, the novels are easy enough to read as a beginner for the most part and makes for a fun experience.

It’s time to dig whatever hidden gems there are (and there’s plenty, I’m sure).

Rules, to keep myself organized and for followers to know what I’m doing:

(1)  Whoever dies in the novels dies, and stays dead.  No exceptions.  If you know exactly who dies from the scan posts I’ve made... a~yup, those will be dying at the same story/battle points whenever possible.

(2)  To branch off from 1, if revival springs are used, I will use them for that character to be revived from the dead.  AFAIK, the author didn’t use any, but I’m hoping for a pleasant surprise.

(3)  I’m allowing myself the old-fashion method of the Mila Turnwheel — save states.  Someone dies when they aren’t supposed to?  Reset.  There’re likely other scenarios I’ll keep a mind for when replicating novel events in my play.

(4)  Whatever the novel does — give certain classes to villagers, equip certain items to units, kill a boss with a certain strategy, choice recruitments, lionhead statboost uses — I must replicate those events and actions in my run, thus making it a challenge.  If something’s almost or actually impossible, well... I’ll figure a way around it by having the next closest thing to it.  If nothing’s specified, I’ll use my own discretion (and hope it doesn’t conflict later).

That’s the basis, for now.  I don’t want to restrict myself too tightly so I’ll be a little more flexible — unless, of course, the novels dictates otherwise

The Game

Okay!  Now with that out of the way, let’s begin.

I’ll be going Easy Mode for the ease of training female mages to level 20 to not be hellish again like on my first blind run.

And now... we get to Act 1.

But wait!  The novels have a couple of things to say before I can truly start.

It has a backstory and some pre-game exposition with our favourite Deliverance gang—their own Rise of the Deliverance DLC in novel form.  Let’s have a look.

—

[Novel]

Prologue:

Greek mythology-esque poetic literature that dragons are gods and how their actions affect weather/nature.  A roar brings the rain and lightning storms, humanity questioning why the heavens are always angry.  As the two dragons have always fought as if they were born to, and birthed Valencia to be a reflection of their souls (North vs South fighting mirrors the Duma vs Mila conflict).

It gives a history lesson of how Rigel and Zofia came to be, describing Duma and Mila like oil and water put in a single vase, eventually growing murky and bad as it mixes from being stabilized prior. And now Valencia faces the worst war in its history.

—

Chapter 1 - Liberation Army Part 1-1: 6 Fake Death Pills

[ This entire part is pre-game, contains graphic depictions of events. Warnings for characters contemplating suicide, gritty themes, blood, and graphic descriptions of murders. ]

Starts off with a visible blood splatter on the polished stone floors of Zofia Castle, the military fill the halls leading to the throne room.  An old man with pale skin, has long, hairy legs, and a long white beard, sits on the tall golden throne with a sword lodged in his bleeding chest.  King Lima IV stabbed by none other than Desaix.

Lima IV still draws breath, barely living as he’s groaning painfully and flailing an arm searching for support (but gets none).  His last words condemn Desaix for being ambitious, having stolen the sword of the royal family which he had taken out at the scene as his second sword.  (The royal sword is apparently forged with steel.)  Desaix mocks the king, and his army begins to chant as he takes the next course of action.

The royal sword was then swung to behead Lima IV, the bloodied head rolls to the stone floor, his half-opened eyes looking up at Desaix with resentment.  The usurper declares the rest of the living royal family to be thrown into dungeons or killed.  The defense rebellion broke out immediately after and utterly failed, their numbers whittled down brutally.  Desaix’s reformed royal army heed all responsibility on throwing rebels and other captives in the dungeon (which hasn’t been used for many years in the peaceful kingdom of Zofia).

The anti-Desaix faction’s numbers continue to decline until six (named) knights remained with very few others who were still fighting vigorously.  It is revealed that the six are Clive, Mathilda, Clair, Lukas, Python, and Forsyth.  Eventually, they were captured and got locked up in the cold dungeons.  Frustrated by their circumstances, Clive grieves that death is preferable for the sake of their knightly pride over being tortured by the usurpers.  An old(ish) soldier with graying hair starts talking to Clive (he is the generic looking man in the first illustration).

The six really want to die, as they’re depressed, but the generic soldier makes a deal with them: drink the 6 “death” medicine pills he had made (and calls them lucky he has that many), which will put them in heavy sleep for four hours.  He’ll disguise himself in the enemy’s uniform, cart their “dead” bodies to the graveyard catacombs full of Terrors (the Deliverance Hideout), and buy them time to rebuild forces to liberate Zofia.

He calls six names, the novel describes each one as the following: Clive, the young chief knight, Clair, the Pegasus Knight who was rewarded good luck by the gods for riding a temna, Lukas, a hot-blooded soldier whose spear strikes like a lightning bolt, Forsyth, his character is different from Lukas, whose calm judgment is true, Python, a genius archer whose bow technique is clear [and shoots] with anger, and Mathilda, the female knight who has a brave soul, as beautiful as the night sky, and is as good as Clive.

Clive rejects the offer, shouting it won’t fly with them as knights, still insistent on preferring death.  Mathilda and Clair nod in agreement with them.  A tearful Forsyth insists on all of them dying together as was their knightly vow if it came down to it, the gray-haired man calls them foolish.

The soldier persuades Clive and the others a little more, until finally, Clive makes the first move on reaching for the “death” pill, which then the other five immediately follow suit.  The man tells the knights about Mycen, a holy knight who was banished by Desaix ages past and currently living in Ram, a village located at the cape of the southernmost tip of Zofia.  He tells them to form the liberation army together with Mycen and free Zofia from the hands of Desaix.  The six proceed to swallow their pills and “died” on the spot.

The consumed medicine causes a foul odor to fill the prisons, signaling some had died to the unaware.  The guards drag their six bodies out of the dungeons, sending them to the caves on the far coast from the castle. 

Upon waking, they salvage the caves for weapons, arrows, armour, and garments.  They also attempt to cover up the cave’s entrance with rocks and leaves to keep Desaix’s men from finding the location again.  Lukas was chosen as the messenger because he can hide himself the best from being captured, he is given a map of Zofia that was found and the journey would take three nights.  Lukas and Forsyth hug it out before patting each other’s backs with fists, then Lukas departs.  Clair follows Lukas out of the cave and mentions she is going to find her pegasus.

Forsyth and Clive have strategy talks while waiting for Clair for return and talking about accommodating Mycen.  Python’s polishing his arrows.  Mathilda returns with urgent grim news that the royal army has found their hideout, rushing them to go deeper into the thin, narrow caves.  Meanwhile, Clair did not hear the loud distant yells from Desaix’s army descending upon the caves, chasing her fellow soldiers.

—

[Game]

Whew, apologies for the length so far.  It was to set up the atmosphere of how the chaos will unfold in the future.

If Gaiden’s character endings weren’t potentially depressing enough on their own, we get them from the very beginning...  

So I suppose from that cliffhanger, that was how Clair and Mathilda get captured, which is different from Shadows of Valentia’s depiction where Mathilda was taken hostage before Lukas left, and Clair got kidnapped after his departure for Ram.

These fills in the fe2′s story gaps are interesting to note (as well as the author’s portrayals of the RGB trio’s personalities).

Okay, back to the game...

Act 1 will begin in the next post.  (This one is already long enough, and the next part’s 6 pages long.  In comparison, part 1-1′s was ten pages long.)

To be continued...

—

→ Next installment: Yo, Alm! Listen to this guy! (3x)

[gta-5-cheats]

Star Trek: Discovery Season One Finale: A Bold, Original Mess

New Post has been published on http://secondcovers.com/star-trek-discovery-season-one-finale-a-bold-original-mess/

Star Trek: Discovery Season One Finale: A Bold, Original Mess

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In its first year, Star Trek: Discovery has committed nearly every misstep in the book. But the best thing the show achieved in the second half of its first season – which ended this week with the season finale, “Will You Take My Hand?”, available on Netflix – was the commentary provided by the Mirror Universe that it’s all too easy to give into our worst tendencies if we’re not careful, and slide into autocratic rule with supremacist ideologies.

Discovery successfully argued that the worst versions of our beloved characters aren’t all conveniently present in an “evil” universe, but rather have become so as a result of the choices they made at crucial times. And if the seemingly better versions of those characters made similar choices in the universe they’re originally from, they would start to resemble each other, as happened briefly on Discovery.

It’s what brought Starfleet so close to genocide on the Klingon home-world Qo’noS, appointing the Terran Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh) to lead the Discovery once again, a desperate measure in desperate times. Michael Burnham (Sonequa Martin-Green) had to be the one to intervene, and say she’d rather mutiny (again) than abandon her Federation principles, a moment that united her ship-mates in an unnecessary cheesy fashion, with all of them slowly standing up one-by-one.

If that moment felt poetic, it was designed to be. In an interview, co-creator Alex Kurtzman – co-writer on J.J. Abrams’ both Trek films – said: “The whole season was reverse engineered from the ending that we know that we wanted. Really the big driver there was [Burnham’s] arc and the confusion about how and why she decided to mutiny in the pilot to the absolute certainty that it was the only way to protect the ideals of the Federation.”

Sonequa Martin-Green as Michael Burnham in a still from Star Trek: Discovery Photo Credit: Jan Thijs/CBS

That’s classic character building, bringing back an earlier point to finish the circle, and imparting a lesson to the protagonist – and in turn, to the viewers – in process. Burnham has seen a lot of failures over the course of the show’s first season, right from her inability to protect Captain Georgiou at the Battle of the Binary Stars to her lover Ash Tyler (Shazad Latif) turning out to be the Klingon Voq (a subplot many predicted long before the official reveal), and Star Trek: Discovery provided some redemption in the finale, with Sarek (James Frain) handing back her Starfleet pin.

Of course, the threat of Klingon obliteration couldn’t have been realised; Discovery is set before the original 1966 Trek series, where it’s all good. But it did help the writers undercut everything we’ve always been told about the utopian Starfleet – which was their primary aim with Discovery,offering a realistic, dark and cynical version of Gene Roddenberry’s project in the age of Game of Thrones – and help serve as the catalyst for ending the Federation-Klingon War, which was meant to last for the duration of Star Trek: Discovery’s first season.

But despite all that plot, what the show couldn’t achieve was a satisfactory conclusion, be it for its full-season arc or with the cliff-hanger in the finale. After L’Rell (Mary Chieffo) gets the bomb detonator from Burnham, why would she threaten her own people with full-scale destruction? Wouldn’t it be easier to unite the Klingon empire by defusing the bomb and go ahead with the attack on Earth?

L’Rell herself said the Klingons wouldn’t relent until they were conquered, so why would they choose to stop the war when they hold all the cards? It doesn’t make sense. When the US wanted Japan to surrender in World War II, they didn’t hand the keys to the nuclear weapons over to the enemy. Starfleet would lose the moral high-ground if it ever took America’s cue, but it’d have been a lot more believable, especially when you’re facing annihilation in a war.

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Mary Chieffo as L’Rell in a still from Star Trek: Discovery Photo Credit: Jan Thijs/CBS

The bigger problem for Discovery, though, has been the lack of desire to explore the Klingon race. While the show kept killing off its leaders one after another in the first half of the season, it relegated them to non-existence once the USS Discovery entered the Mirror Universe, which occupied a large part of the season’s second half. Even L’Rell, the Klingon prisoner aboard the Discovery, spent most of the runtime in a cage, sticking around for the finale.

Unfortunately, the Klingons aren’t the only ones affected by haphazard writing. If the confirmation of Tyler being a human-Klingon hybrid wasn’t disappointing enough, the character has virtually stagnated since then, and sending him with L’Rell towards the end of the finale of Star Trek: Discovery season one seemed like an acceptance on behalf of the writers that the character had ran out of its arc.

Discovery’s old captain Gabriel Lorca (Jason Isaacs), who had a major influence on the crew, was never properly discussed since he turned out to be an impostor. Hugh Culber (Wilson Cruz), the ship’s medical officer, was also promptly forgotten after being murdered by Tyler/Voq. And no one in Discovery’s crew – except the ones who knew – seemed to think that the returning Captain Georgiou displayed traits of a far more authoritarian ruler, like the one they saw in the Mirror Universe.

Michelle Yeoh as Philippa Georgiou (Mirror) in a still from Star Trek: Discovery Photo Credit: CBS

For what it’s worth, it was a joy watching Yeoh lean into Evil Georgiou, freed from the principles and responsibilities that come with being a Starfleet officer. She got to deliver lines with an irreverent swagger, even throwing references to the original series, and have her way with green strippers, thereby add a jolt of fun to the grim proceedings and serious demeanour of the people around her. It’s likely why she gets her freedom so easily; Discovery’s writers love the option to have her back later.

Speaking of later, the gaps in the writing are signs of originally-developed storylines being expanded to fit more seasons. You can see the blueprint for co-creator Bryan Fuller’s anthology plan amidst the existing structure of Star Trek: Discovery’s first season, what with multiple main characters being killed off across the episodes. But CBS disagreed with the idea, asking him to make a serialised show, and Fuller eventually left after further disagreements.

The result has been all over the place at times, but it can’t be said that Discovery hasn’t tried something new. In that at least, it has boldly gone where Star Trek hasn’t before. Now hopefully, its meeting with the USS Enterprise – currently in the hands of Captain Pike, Kirk’s predecessor – will be more than just mere fan service.

Star Trek: Discovery airs on CBS All Access in the US, and on Netflix in India and around the world.

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