#they did a good job making the realm of darkness look distinct from the realm of light

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - Depths of Darkness

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[mars-writes-1999]

Penumbra Podcast fan Theory

I have a theory about how this season is going to end and where the Junoverse is headed. None of this is certain, it’s all just theory. This isn’t about Nureyev’s debts though, I have genuinely no idea what’s going on with that boi but he worries me lots. I love him, and can’t figure him out. This is about the other class X radical. 

SPOILERS FOR JUNO STEEL AND WHAT LIES BEYOND PART 2

tl;dr  Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal. The Ruby 7 is a sentient ai. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical.

1. Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7.

There was a line from Jet that stuck out to me right away in What Lies Beyond part 2. At the very beginning of his interrogation jet says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want." He also later says "There is nothing on this ship that they want. That is final". I do put more stock in the first than the second quote because by the second one he is playing along with Juno's plan and intentionally being angry. I have looked through the scripts and I don't think we're ever told where Jet is being held (lmk if I'm wrong) but for my theory to work he is somewhere with a window and/or he saw things before being put in a "cell" at all.

Jet is a straightforward guy and went into that interrogation with a plan. He had time to think about what he wanted to say to Juno and what he said was "I do not think. I know." I take this to mean she really does know. He knows that Ransom, who dark matters is looking for, is not on the ship. He knows that the Ruby 7, who he believes dark matters is looking for (I'll get to this later), is not on the ship. 

While my Ruby 7 theory is a bit more of a long shot, I REALLY think Jet saw Ransom escape. He says in no uncertain terms that he KNOWS that there isn’t anything that Dark Matters is looking for. Even if we make an assumption that Jet thinks they’re only looking for one 

2. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal

So I’ve thought this might be true since my second listen through the episode. It was a bit of a wild guess at first, but the more I think about it the more I buckle down on it. It lines up in a lot of ways where nothing else I can think of does. This whole argument does assume that Sasha and Dark Matters didn’t just fabricate the distress signal, but given her distaste for agent G (god rest her soul), I think the signal was real. 

When trying to decide who could have sent the signal we can immediately rule out literally every person in the carte blanche family. Buddy and Juno do a good job of explaining to us why each one of them couldn’t be it. 

Buddy was dying (plus we have the added bonus of her monologue and knowing what she was doing)

Juno, Vespa, and Ransom were in sight of each other and in the way of EMP waves

Rita’s comms were knocked out by the EMP waves

Jet was fixing the Ruby 7 and was right next to the EMP waves. He was also pretty busy trying to keep buddy from allowing herself to be killed

All of these things considered, we can also just assume that no one on this ship would rat them out. The only possible defection is Ransom, but despite not knowing what his motives are, I don’t think he ratted them out to Dark Matters. 

The only thing with the sentience to call out would be the Ruby (I’ll provide evidence for its sentience in a moment). I don’t know why it would reach out to Dark Matters specifically, but maybe it was just reaching out to anyone with a distress call. I don’t know how space distress calls work, but Sasha did need to specify that the call didn’t come from the Carte Blanche which means vehicles may have the power to send out a distress call. 

We know from Sasha and Juno’s conversation that the distress call was sent out 4 times in 2 hours. In the episode we see 3 major EMP blasts: The one between episodes, the one when Vespa and Ransom start arguing and Buddy can’t communicate, and the one Buddy barely avoids by getting into the safe room. It isn’t unreasonable to presume there was a 4th EMP wave that occurred after Buddy was safe and sound but before the entire team made it back safely. 4 distress signals for 4 emp waves. If the Ruby 7 is the one sending these, then this math makes sense.

In The Heart of it all Part 2 Jet says to Buddy “Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment - though it is still bitter about its engines.” This means the Ruby may have been scared about its engines dying and therefore it sent out a distress signal. 

None of this is provable at this point, but I also haven’t found any evidence to the contrary. If nothing following this is true, I still think this may be true. 

3. The Ruby 7 is a sentient AI

It is at this point that I would like to acknowledge that I am using it/its as pronouns for the Ruby 7. This is how the car has been referred to in the show up until this point and so it is how I will be referring to it from here on out. If any of this pans out and the Ruby 7 uses different pronouns or signifiers in future episodes I will refer to it differently. 

Before I give the reasons I think the Ruby 7 itself is sentient, I want to talk about why I think it’s plausible that Kevin and Sophie would take the story in this direction. The reason is pretty simple, they’ve told us they’d be willing to. Here is a clip of Kevin and Sophie in the Season 1 Q&A. 

 [audio file]

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cOXj3ybVkszLdt8U8BiRrVW3Cy7O_oGl/view?usp=sharing

[google doc transcript of audio file]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/16EP7CP6Wxic3q7-QhPce1dinan5A0ACNDdxZ4DfaEtA/edit?usp=sharing 

So not only does this clip make it clear that Kevin has wanted robots in some form from the start, it shows that Sophie is open to the idea. We also hear them talk about how big of a deal it would be to introduce elements like this into the story. I would consider all of this setup as treating the concept of AI with the respect and time it deserves. We also know how much Kevin loves the Ruby 7 so making the car a main character would absolutely be within the realm of possibilities. The Ruby 7 is arguably the 7th member of their crew with or without sentience. 

Now to discuss the proof of the sentience of the Ruby 7. There’s a lot of evidence for this. The car has always been sassy and had a personality, but there are several moments that point to more than this. 

In the very beginning of part 1 of Tools of Rust, we see Jet directly mull over the sentience of the Ruby 7. 

The Ruby 7’s many background calculations make it more like a horse. It can be controlled, but only insofar as it wants to be controlled. (HE SHAKES HIS HEAD AND SNORTS, DISMISSING HIMSELF) “Wants to.” This car can make you believe in ghosts, too — a spirit in the machine. But the Ruby 7, whatever the force of its calculations, cannot want and cannot think; it can only behave like it does. ~from Tools of Rust Script released to 10$ Patreon supporters

This gives some of the base backgrounds into how Jet thinks about the car he is closest to. In this episode he refers to the ruby as “a wild horse, I must break it in.” The catalyst for this episode occurs while Jet is breaking down the tractor shield generator because when driving the Ruby 7 “Manuevers have not responded as they should.” There are of course reasons for these things that are not sentience. Jet himself does not think the car is sentient at the beginning of this episode. We also know that his view of the car is changing throughout his arc of this season. In its most recent appearance, we see the Ruby at its most sentient. Two distinct moments come to mind in regards to this. 

First, in part one as they are discussing their plan after Rita deploys the Book: 

JET:  We will be on our own — even the Ruby 7 will temporarily shut down. RUBY 7: (PETTY/ANNOYED BEEPS) BUDDY: … Come again? JET: The Ruby insists that it will not shut down. It is incorrect. RUBY 7: (REALLY ANNOYED BEEPS) JET: The Ruby says that I should not tell it what it can and cannot do. VESPA: Really built some sass into that thing, huh? NUREYEV: Is it just me, or… have responses like this become more common from our mysterious vehicle? VESPA: I swear its voice changed, too. BUDDY: Then we’ll allow the car its moody teenage years, I think; after all this is over I’ll buy it an industrial supply of eyeliner and posters of sad young men. ~ From The Heart of it All part 1 script released to 10$ Patreon supporters

Here several characters are remarking upon the increasing sentience of the Ruby 7. In part 2 of this episode, we see further evidence that the crew, especially Jet, has noticed changes in the Ruby which make it seem more and more sentient. 

BUDDY: Singing and theoretical mathematics? Is there anything that car can't do? JET: Increasingly I worry that there is not. Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment — though it is still bitter about its engines. (HE ACTUALLY IS WORRIED ABOUT WHAT THE HELL THE RUBY 7 IS, BUT NOW ISN’T THE TIME FOR THAT) But in this moment I am far more worried by.... ~ From Heart of it All part 2 script for 10$ Patreon Supporters

Here it is clear that not only does Jet sound concerned about the Ruby 7, but Kevin’s direction shows that Jet is genuinely unsure of the Ruby. Not just that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is doing, but that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is. 

Now that I’ve shown all of the evidence I have I’m going to extrapolate some of this to draw a line from this evidence to my theory in part 1. 

Jet knows something is up with the Ruby 7. He has seen Nureyev leave the carte blanche in the Ruby 7 and therefore knows the car is not on the ship. As the delivery notes say “now isn’t the time for that”. What does Jet have while in his “cell” but time? He spends part of his imprisonment sitting and thinking about the Ruby 7. He knows that Dark Matters could have easily found the cure mother prime so he assumes there is something else they are looking for. He realizes that his car is sentient. He realizes that they are looking for 2 main things, Ransom and the Ruby 7. He saw both of these leave. He says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want."

For this to work, the Ruby 7 needs to be classified as a Class X radical, this is a tall order, but I think the Ruby 7 meets the criteria. 

 4. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical

1st of all, look at that green car? That car is SO rad. 

Jokes aside, there are 2 main criteria I’m using to determine that the Ruby 7 could be the class X radical Dark Matters is looking for. First, is it literally possible that this is what Dark Matters is looking for? Does it fit any descriptors Director Wire gives us during her interview with Juno? Second, does it fit the definition of a class X radical? 

In answer to the first question, we consider what Dark Matters is searching for. We know that they know it’s class X, but not much else. In fact, Sasha suggests that Juno may know more than her about the radical because he’s been living with it. This gives the impression that they might not really know what they’re looking for. My theory here is they know that they are looking for a sentient robot, but they don’t know it’s a car. This explains why they know what they need to about its threats but not much else. It may also explain why some of the agents were looking in drawers. If they were not looking for Nureyev (cause like Buddy said, they should know he’s not inches tall) then perhaps they were looking for a sentient robot. Unless I’m misremembering something, I think this is all we really get in terms of information on what the second radical is. Sasha doesn’t give Juno much information despite giving him everything she can about the cure mother prime.

In answer to the second question, we look toward the definition Sasha gives Juno for a radical: “any person or object with the potential to cause significant change to civilized human life as we know it”. AI with sentience fits this definition. Even if you don’t think it does, the piece from the season 1 Q&A shows that Sophie thinks it does. They talk about the care that would need to be in place in order to introduce robots, ai, or aliens. Care is needed because any one of these three things would drastically change the galaxy as they know it. 

 I don’t really have any clever way to end this other than saying all of this could be wrong. I could be completely off and there are probably other explanations for everything I’ve described, but I actually feel pretty confident on this. It started off as a random thought and the more I’ve sat on it the more evidence I’ve collected. Whether this comes to fruition or not I hope you enjoyed reading my theory! 

CC: 

@thepenumbrapodcast 

[archiesoniconline]

QnA: Zone Cop Briefing

Zally: Hello there everyone.  I’m Zally, Head of Communications for the Zone Cops.  Joining me today is our top officer Zonic...

Zonic: Hi there! Zally: And his protege, Zails. Zails: Uh, hello.  That’s a lot of people w-we’re talking too. Zally: The staff at Archie Sonic Online have received a lot of questions about Zones, Zone Travel, Time Travel, and several covering some combinations of these topics.  And so, they have asked us to give this briefing, to hopefully explain some of the basics about Zones and Time Travel, and with luck we’ll answer your questions as we do so. Just before we begin however, it’s important to say that, while what we will say today is the case for… hmm…. At least 9 out of 10 situations, there are several exceptions.  Zonic: Not to mention Nega and that Genesis Wave messing everything up… Zally: Ahem!  Going into all of them would take far too much time, so we’ll just say for now that ‘exceptions to these rules do exist’ and start the briefing. To begin, most Zones fall into two distinct types.  There are the True Zones, such as say the Prime Zone and the Sol Zone, complete universes in themselves.  Then there are the Pocket Zones, which have limited internal dimensions, can often be found within a True Zone, and can also be disrupted by tremendous emissions of energy.  The Special Zone, formally the Zone of Silence, was one such Zone, as was the Pocket Zone destroyed when Super Sonic and Hyper Knuckles from the Prime Zone fought. There are multiple ways that Pocket Zones can be created, natural and artificial.  But for True Zones, they are only created when a Triggering Event occurs in the Prime Zone.  Other Zones cannot split to form new Zones.  It might help to think of the Multiverse almost like a tree, with the Prime Zone as the trunk, and other Zones the branches growing from it. Triggering Events have a few requirements.  There has to be a number of likely possible outcomes.  And the different outcomes must have fundamentally different effects on the future of the Prime Zone.  For example, Prime Sonic choosing how many chilli-dogs to eat might have several different likely outcomes, but none would result in any fundamental change, so it would not be a Triggering Event.  In the opposite way, Prime Robotnik debating whether to use the Robotizer certainly had a massive effect on the events in the Prime Zone, but the chances of him choosing to not use the device were so slim, no new Zone was created. A Triggering Event need not be a single decision made by one person.  It could be several smaller decisions made by a group of people that nevertheless results in a different outcome.  It could even be the results of a natural occurrence.  When life was reforming after the Gene Bomb in the Prime Zone, there were so many different directions it could take, that this is where the vast majority of Zones were created.  Numerous Zones were also created when the Prime Zone first formed, some with wildly different laws of physics. When a new Zone is created, it is completely duplicated.  The entire timeline is copied, not just from the Triggering Event.  Though on that subject, the passage of time can be different between Zones.  Time runs faster in some Zones compared to the Prime Zone, such as the Zone Robo-Robotnik hailed from.  In some, it runs slower, such as in the Twilight Cage.  And in others, it can run at the same rate as the Prime Zone, but the point where the Prime Zone and the other Zone meets are at different points in their timelines. That covers the creation of Zones.  So moving onto Zone Cop operations, I’ll turn to Zonic. Zonic: Thanks Zal… uh, Zally.  As I’m sure most of you are aware, the Zone Cops monitor activity within the different Zones, as well as travel between the different Zones.  Different units of Cops have different roles, from general monitoring, to patrolling the Cosmic Interstate, to protecting against threats to the Multiverse.  For me, my job means I’m called in when direct action is required in another Zone. This is… a difficult job.  You could well ask why don’t we help out whenever something bad happens in the other Zone.  Truth is, that could cause a horrible imbalance, and lead to more disastrous consequences further down the line.  It’s not easy sitting on the sidelines, but sometimes we have to. But then, there are times we do need to act to make sure a greater threat doesn’t rise.  You’re likely aware of some of those times, as that’s when I’ve brought in Prime Sonic.  Why him?  Well, the Prime Zone is only a step away from all the other Zones, even wildly different ones like the Sol Zone.  And Prime Sonic is, in all honesty, one of the most capable Sonic’s in the multiverse, so I know it’s in good hands.  We could send in a squad of Zone Cops instead, but one Sonic can do, with very little disruption, what it would take several squads to accomplish. This has all gotten a lot harder recently, with Eggman Naga swarming over the Multiverse causing massive disruption, and the recent damage inflicted to Zone Jails. Alright, there’s a bit more to cover, but that’s for the end.  Right now, I’m gonna turn to Zails.  He’s still training to be a Zone Cop, but as one of his training projects, he’s done a Case Study on Silver the Hedgehog, so he’s here to talk about time travel.  Take it away Zails. Zails: Uh… Alright *deep breath* You can do this Zails.  Silver the Hedgehog is a time travelling Hedgehog… That’s redundant, isn’t it?  Uh… so… Silver has travelled through time, but there have also been incidents where he’s interacted with different Zones aside from the Prime Zone, known as Light Mobius and Dark Mobius. So, er, Time Travel and Zone Travel do share many similar principles.  Travelling between Zones is easy, as No-Zone and the Cosmic Highway connect all Zones.  Even travel that doesn’t use the Cosmic Interstate, such as Star Posts, tend to make use of that connection.  Time Travel is much harder, though it is easier to travel forwards, going with the flow of time, than backwards, working against it. This means it’s very easy, if you don’t know what you’re doing, to accidently move between Zones when Time Travelling.  Er… *checks notes* Jani-ca from Dark Mobius did this, accidentally travelling to the Prime Zone when she went back in time.  It’s easier to do when you are going back before the Triggering Event that created your Zone. And so, if you know how to Time Travel, it is much easier to travel to other Zones. Which leads us, uh, to the next question.  ‘Does time travel create new Zones?’  The answer is ‘it depends’.  Keep in mind, looking at Silver, given the chance it was unlikely he wouldn’t go back in time.  And when he found out about Mecha-Sally, also unlikely that he wouldn’t stop her.  So his actions changed the future, without creating a new Zone. On the other hand, King Sonic of Light Mobius.  Once, it was the future of the Prime Zone.  But when he went back in time, his actions created such wild changes, that Light Mobius became its own Zone, and the future of the Prime Zone was shifted away from it. Which then leads to a bigger question.  *takes a breath, checks notes*  ‘If you change the future, doesn’t that create a paradox where you wouldn’t have gone back to change the future?’  Okay, when someone goes back in time, they become part of the past, as if they always existed there.  So when they return to the future, they’ll still remember their old life, even if their actions have created massive changes.  We think.  This is partially theoretical, based on observing Silver.  There is one last question: ‘Why are some things from Light Mobius seen in Silver’s future?’  This is because of the way Light Mobius was created.  There is still a connection between Light Mobius and the Prime Zone.  Sometimes, things leak through.  Maybe just objects, but at some point, even Tikchaos, or part of her, was able to slip into the Prime Zone. *looks over notes* Uh… that’s everything from me, so, er, back to Zonic. Zonic: Thanks Zails, you did great. *gives thumbs up*  Our last topic is on Zone Numbering and Naming.  There are countless Zones, and each is given an ‘official numbering’, based on the date and exact time of its creation.  These numbers, as you might expect, are VERY long.  So instead, we usually refer to the ‘Case File’ Numbers.  These numbers, after the first 100, are based on when we start to take an interest in that Zone.  The first 100, well, we were trying to rate the Zone’s by importance.  We really messed that up! *chuckles*  For naming a Zone, that honour is given to the team who first open a Case File on a Zone.  *communicator beeps* Oh, that’s right!  Just one other thing to note.  We've heard rumours of another 'Sonic Prime'.  We don't know any details yet, but we're investigating.

Okay, I think that is everything.  Zally? Zally: Yes, we’ve just about covered everything.  I hope we’ve managed to answer most of your questions.  But before we leave, we’ve had numerous requests for knowing the name and designation of a number of Zones.  So we’ll leave those with you. Thank you so much for listening.  Now, here’s the list:

#001 – The Prime Zone – This is the zone where all others originate from, where Sonic and the heroes of Mobius fight against the tyranny of Dr. Eggman.

#017 – The Stealth Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where the superhero Stealth the Hedgehog fights villains such as Professor Egg.

#059 - The Serene Zone - This Zone features a Mobius where Julian Kintobor never managed to gain control after the Great War, and the Kingdom of Acorn stood strong.

#100 – The No Zone – Our Zone, from here the Zone Cops organization strives to maintain order across the multiverse.

#109 – The Legal Zone – This zone features a Mobius with a city called Litigopolis where law and order are the way of the world.

#196 – The Freedom Zone – This zone features a planet Freedom which is divided into two realms – the Land of the Sky and the Land of Darkness.

#199 – The Underground Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Prince Sonic and his siblings, Manic and Sonia, seek to find their mother, Queen Aleena, and become the Council of Four to overthrow the dictator Dr. Robotnik.

#220 – The Lightning Zone – This zone features a planet Earth where Sonic has traveled and been adopted by a police officer named Tom and stops the plans of the overzealous scientist Dr. Robotnik.

#372 – The Anti Zone – This zone is a mirror reflection of the Prime Zone, where our heroes are bad and their villains are good.

#403 – The Earth X Zone – This zone features a planet Earth with a city called Station Square. It is the home of Chris Thorndyke and his friends and has been protected by Sonic the Hedgehog.

#492 – The Image Zone – This zone features a planet Earth that is protected by heroes such as Spawn, Savage Dragon, and The Maxx.

#496 – The Dark Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius nearly purged of life from a corrupted Knuckles the Echidna who became Enerjak.

#589 – The Discovery Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius resembling a gritty film noir.

#593 – The Boomer Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonic and the Freedom Fighters; Johnny Lightfoot, Porker Lewis, Tails, and Amy, face various foes including the evil Dr. Robotnik.

#623 – The Real Zone – This zone features a planet Earth where Sonic the Hedgehog is a video game character.

#905 – The Mobius X Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonic and his friends call home. Sonic and his friends have been transported off this planet into the X Earth Zone.

#1054 – The Kaiju Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Dr. J Kintobor uses a super sized mecha, Giant Robotno, to fight enlarged mutants.

#1072 – The Sentai Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonicman and the Chaos Ninja Team fight the villainous Sallactor.

#1084 – The Cyborg Zone – This zone is home to a planet Mobius that has been left a ruined wasteland thanks to it’s Dr. Robotnik. This is the zone from which Dr. Eggman hails.

#1100 – Maginary Zone – This zone is where the dreams of all other zones are born from. It is entered via the Precioustone and is guarded by the powerful Illumina.

#1103 – The Light Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius very similar to our heroes’ world. King Sonic and Queen Sally rule the Kingdom of Acorn in this zone.

#1105 – The Sol Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Blaze the Cat guards the Jewelled Sceptre and the Sol Emeralds.

#1114 – The Boom Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonic and his friends live on Bygone Island and deal with regular shenanigans from Dr. Eggman.

#1241 – The Archie Zone – This zone features a planet Earth with a town called Riverdale. It is the home of Archie Andrews, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and Josie and the Pussycats amongst others.

#1291 – The Luna Zone – This zone features a Mobius that is protected by the pretty guardian Sally Moon and her crush Tuxedo Knux.

#4235 – The Galaxy Zone – This zone is the home of the Freedom Fighters of the Galaxy, a group that patrols their universe facing cosmic threats such as Robolactus.

[9worldstales]

THOR: HEROES & VILLAINS

So, since “Thor: Heroes & Villains” give a lot of useful extra info unknown to most, I thought to share what I thought worthy. I still recommend to buy the booklet. It’s not overly difficult to find it ‘used’, it’s usually not very pricey and it’s a great source of info.

It’s worth to remember this is a booklet printed in 2011 so its info cover only the movie “Thor”.

The booklet structure is meant to cover the various character of the movie and give some basic info about them (realm, aliases, relatives, companions, abilities/attributes, purpose, occupation, weapons, animals, gears, story). Mind you, you don’t get all those info for all the characters, for some there’s more, for some there’s less.

I’m going to mention only what the movie skipped which I think can be interesting, I’m not going to transcribe the whole thing… but as usually I’ll comment what I’ll quote.

ASGARD

“The men and women who call it home have superhuman strength, live for thousands of years, and are extremely loyal to Asgard present ruler…”

MY TWO CENTS

I’m just mentioning this because nowhere it’s discussed the Asgardian view on their ruler. So it’s interesting how here they said they aren’t just ‘loyal’ but ‘extremely loyal’.

ODIN

Relatives: Father, Bor (deceased), mother, Bestia (deceased); brothers, Ve and Vili (both deceased); wife, Frigga; sons, Thor and Loki

Abilities/attributes: The mightiest of the Asgardians. Odin wields a massive power source called the Odinforce, which allows him to control energy and the elements. [To possess and use the Odinforce is very draining. At various times over the course of his reign, the king has to enter Odinsleep. This restores his powers.]

Weapons: Gungnir, a mighty spear, filled with the Odinforce.

Animals: Eight-legged steed named Sleipnir who can run on land and air.

Story: The ruler of Asgard, Odin wants to pass the throne on to his eldest son, Thor. But he worries his son is not ready. When he is forced to banish Thor to Midgard, Odin becomes distraught and falls into a deep Odinsleep.

MY TWO CENTS

Okay, I almost copied it all because it was almost all extra info for who’s only familiar with the movie. So the idea was to keep the original Odin family minus Cul. I keep the explanations on the Odinforce (what it controls, how it’s in Gungnir, how it drains Odin causing him to fall in Odinsleep regularly) even if some of them can be figured by the movie. I also kept the story part because there are two interesting points, one is the implication Odin WANTS to pass the throne to Thor, is not just he’s the older brother, the other is that him falling in Odinsleep like that is due to him becoming distraught due to Thor’s banishment, not due to Loki discovering the truth, though I guess that didn’t help make his day.

I’ll mention in older plans for the movie it was also high time for him to fall in Odinsleep as he had postponed it for too long and that was also why he wanted to rush passing the throne to Thor. Those plans though might have ended up scrapped as in the movie Frigga said ‘they were unprepared’… though this might also refer to how Odin dropped down abruptly when maybe previously he managed to reach his bed.

FRIGGA

Abilities/attributes: Beauty, Asgardian strength, and great patience

Story: As Odin’s wife, Frigga has been his constant companion and voice of reason for centuries. Loyal and true, she is also a loving mother to Thor and Loki. While she tries not to, she favour her youngest, Loki, who is often in the shadow of Thor. After Thor is banished and the king goes into Odinsleep, she relies heavily on Loki, for better or worse.

MY TWO CENTS

We get no mention of Frigga’s family prior to her marriage or if she’s meant to be a Vanir like in the comic so I didn’t bother writing down the part about her relatives. We get a confirmation Frigga has Asgardian strength (which probably hints she’s meant to be Asgardian and no more Vanir) so she’s not what you could call a weak woman, at least for human standard. They establish the marriage as one of love for her side. The fact they go and say she’s the voice of reason makes me think they wanted to remark Odin can be unreasonable. They establish she’s a loving mother and that, although she favours Loki she tries not to show it (differently from Odin). I think that the idea beyond saying that she relied heavily on Loki is that because she was distraught for Odin, whom she loved, she ended up passing the throne and the responsibility connected to it on Loki (I take when Odin fell in Odinsleep before she took up the regency but this time she entirely passed the job on Loki) without realizing in that moment Loki wasn’t in the best psychological shape to be left alone to handle all this… though I am, maybe speculating.

Still, in the movie she doesn’t seem to understand how big of a blow it was for Loki to discover the truth and in the novel is said she loved Odin a lot so I guess this might be the idea behind her behaviour. My general impression is they’re trying to drive home the point Frigga loved her children and tried her best but made some SERIOUS mistakes in dealing with them that ended up leading to what will happen at the end of the movie.

THOR ODINSON

Aliases: Warrior of Asgard, Son of Odin, the mighty Thor

Companions: The Warriors Three, Lady Sif

Abilities/attributes: Thor possesses physical powers superior to those of normal Asgardians.

Weapons: Made of Uru metal, the mighty hammer Mjolnir lets Thor control lightning, rain and thunder. …

Gear: Thor’s helmet is quite distinct. The eagle wings on either side represent his nobility. …

Story: Eager to take the throne, Thor is quick to act and slow to think. …

MY TWO CENTS

Yeah, I cut various parts from Thor’ profile but they weren’t saying anything new. Now... Thor is the only one in the booklet who’s called ‘Thor Odinson’ with the patronymic, where Loki is just ‘Loki’ and Odin is just ‘Odin’. I found interesting among the aliases Thor has ‘Warrior of Asgard’ as if he’s just the representative for them. Why did I put the ‘companions’ part? You’ll see when I’ll talk about Loki. So Mjolnir also control rain, I’ll say this was implied by “Thor: The Dark World” and it was Mjolnir which has the power to control lightning, rain and thunder… which is confirmed by “The Art of Thor” which says the runes on the hammer originally said ‘he who wields this hammer commands the lightning of the storm’… later adapted in “Thor: The Dark World” to fit with what happened in “Thor” so that, in it, the writing says ‘whosoever hold this hammer if he be worthy shall possess the power of Thor’. There were no comments on Thor’s helmet on “Marvel Studio Visual Dictionary”. As for Thor’s story I left only the part describing his character because it’s telling while the rest is just about what happened in the movie.

LOKI

Aliases: The Trickster, Master of Magic

Companions: Sticks to himself, but is closest to Thor

Abilities/attributes: Superhuman strength, increased life span. Regarded as one of the most powerful sorcerers in all of Asgard. He can make himself appear to be somewhere he is not, shape-shift and teleport. He is often the voice of reason to Thor’s impulsiveness and is usually relied to talk his older brother out of sticky situations.

Gear: Like his brother, Loki also has a helmet that he wears for ceremonial purposes. …

Story: As Odin’s younger son, Loki has always known the throne of Asgard will never belong to him. He has, however, tried his best to be a good brother to Thor and a son Odin could be proud of. When Thor travels to Jotunheim, it is Loki who sends a message to their father in order to prevent an all-out war. Still, he cannot stop Odin from banishing Thor. …

MY TWO CENTS

So, relevant points are that the movie knew Loki was a Master of Magic and originally there were more scenes with him using powers… likely cut because magic in movies requires expensive special effects. He’s not however the only sorcerer, which I find worth mentioning because, when the Warriors Three decide the Frost Giants should have invaded Asgard thank to the help of a sorcerer, they decide it has to be him as if there weren’t other options (in “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.S.” it will be said Lorelei too knew about the paths Loki used to move through realms. It probably wasn’t common knowledge but not that rare among sorcerers). And here comes why I reported the companions of Thor. Because in Thor’s case his companions didn’t include Loki, just the Warriors Three and Sif, while in Loki’s case they don’t mention those four, but mention Thor. Basically Thor was the link between the Warriors Three and Sif, and Loki, while the 5, left on their own, didn’t consider themselves companions. In the novel though, it was the Warriors Three and Sif who relied on Loki to get his brother to think. The booklet doesn’t bother to describe why Loki has horns on his helmet but you can find the info on “Marvel Studio Visual Dictionary”. Here it’s just said he wears it for ceremonial purposes, which makes sense because in “Thor: The Dark World” they leave him without it. Regarding to how Loki always knows since he’s the younger the throne would never belong to him, this matches with the novel… but seems to clash with how Odin said ‘Only one of you can ascend to the throne. But both of you were born to be kings.’ It’s worth to mention originally that scene wasn’t meant to be included in the movie and even Alan Taylor mentioned it made Odin look bad “Thor and Loki are interesting because their father’s so completely screwed up their childhood. You don’t tell two boys that they’re both meant to be king, but only one will make it!” [The art of Thor: The Dark World]

The booklet remarks how Loki tried to be a good brother and a good son, differently to what “Thor: Ragnarok” says. This also has a story purpose because “Thor” was meant to be the movie in which Loki ‘falls’ in the metaphorical and literal sense, an origin story. If everything were to be dated prior to it, “Thor” wouldn’t be an origin story anymore, merely the breaking point. I mentioned how the booklet remarks that it was Loki who sent a message to his father, confirming as true what Loki says in the movie because in “The Hero’s Journey: Thor” it’s said it was Heimdall who warned Odin. So, you know, if you were thinking Loki lied, he did not. Also the booklet implied if he could, Loki would have stopped Odin from banishing Thor, which is why he tried to talk with his father as Odin and Thor argued. After discovering the truth about himself though, he clearly changed his mind and wanted to make it permanent.

THE WARRIORS THREE

Companions: Thor, Loki, Lady Sif

Attributes: Known on Asgard as the strongest and bravest of men, they rarely leave Thor’s side. Volstagg is large, even for an Asgardian, and he enjoy everything to excess. … Fandral thinks quite highly of himself, and his ego often gets him in trouble with both warriors and ladies. … He [Hogun] doesn’t speak often, but when he does, it is important to listen.

MY TWO CENTS

Credits when it’s due the Warriors Three list Loki as a companion… but the story goes that they rarely leave THOR’s side. So my impression that the companionship is only due to Thor being a bridge remains. I’ve left the character descriptions because they really have a small role so their character can end up being missed.

SIF

Companions: Thor, Loki, The Warriors Three

Attributes: The fourth member of Thor’s entourage, Sif is the fiercest of Asgard’s female warriors. …[Sif] is often the first to leap into battle. But Sif is also a voice of reason, and she often tries to consul Thor- even when he doesn’t want to hear it.

MY TWO CENTS

Same as with the Warriors Three Sif also includes Loki among her companions, but she’s a member of THOR’s entourage. I’ve left her character description for the same way I left the ones of the Warriors Three… even though her character is easier to figure out from the movie than theirs.

HEIMDALL Guardian of the Rainbow Bridge

Occupation: … The Bifrost Control is the device that starts the Bifrost.

Abilities/attributes: Superhuman strength and super senses that enable him to hear and see across the realms.

Weapons: His sword can be inserted into the control device to open the Bifrost – but it’s also a mighty weapon.

Story: … To try to figure out who is behind it [the attack by the frost giants] Heimdall allows Thor, Loki, the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif to travel to Jotunheim…

MY TWO CENTS

Not much to say about him. The booklet doesn’t talk of his character and gives us only some technical data. Basically his motivation for disobeying to Odin’s order and sending Thor and Co to Jotunheim was just he wanted to know who was behind the attack. I thought worth to mention it because in “The Hero’s Journey: Thor” Heimdall claims he knew Loki was somehow responsible for it but didn’t know why he allowed them to go to Jotunheim, just that Thor was being insistent and persuasive and that if he hadn’t allowed him, Thor would have found a way to do so. So yeah, they changed things.

FROST GIANTS, JOTUNS

Attributes: Extremely large (bigger even than Asgardians) and strong. Able to withstand extremely cold temperatures.

Weapons: The Frost Giants have the ability to mould ice into various weapons using their skin and body structures. Some Frost Giants have large head that they can use as rams while others have long arms that can form swords of solid ice.

Story: After Odin took the Casket of Ancient Winters from Jotunheim, the realm began to collapse. Now it’s a shadow of its former self, and the Frost Giants who live there are eager to seek revenge. Laufey, king of the Frost Giants, will stop at nothing to once again control the Casket of Ancient Winters, which will return Jotunheim to the power it once enjoyed.

MY TWO CENTS

I still have no idea why, although it’s called Casket of Ancient Winters in multiple side materials, in the movie they just call it Casket. Whatever, this confirms taking it away from Jotunheim damaged Jotunheim, even if it doesn’t explain why. On the other side it affirms Laufey doesn’t just want it to restore Jotunheim to a better state but back in power.

I think the idea is that they are the same as Malekith. In “The Art of Thor: The Dark World” Craig Kyle says “The thing that makes Malekith, especially, a madman, is this: while he could probably restore a single world and give his kind an island on which they can live peacefully and safely, it’s not enough. He needs it all back. The universe was once theirs; he wants it all back. A piece is not a valid solution. That’s why he’s an extremist.” And Alan Taylor said “Malekith and his people have been gone for 5,000 years, and they’re coming back to-in their minds-right a terrible wrong. They’re driven by vengeance. Basically, all Malekith wants is the universe.” I think for the Frost Giants it’s the same. The Dark Elves wanted to bring obscurity back because for them light is bad… so it was also a fight for survival… but it became also a fight for power where compromises can’t be found. The Frost Giants were probably meant to be the same, they NEEDED the Casket to save their planet but in the same time they would want to abuse of its power. Then the movie cut the role of the Frost Giants so much it kind of got lost and so they recycled this plot for the Dark Elves. Still, it’s a pity because it would be interesting and it would open up also more points to ponder. By not helping the Frost Giants, the Asgardians leave them in misery that feed their wish of revenge, worsened by Laufey’s greed. It’s basically a post WW1 situation, which would have been very interesting to discuss but… it kind of gets dropped along the way, the effects of the lack of the casket completely removed from the movie so as to paint the Frost Giants more like the monsters Loki fears they are.

[On a totally unrelated note as this is not a Marvel book, “Loki – A novel” by M.G. Farija revisits not just the whole story of Thor turnings all the Norse gods into humans but the whole conflict between Asgard and Jotunheim in a more politically realistic way which is kind of awesome so I wholeheartedly recommend it… never mention I love Loki and Thor in that book… LOL, I might end up writing a recommendation post just for it…]

THE DESTROYER

Purpose: To destroy. The Destroyer is Odin’s fiercest weapon. … However, when called upon to protect something, the Destroyer fills with Odinforce and is virtually indestructible.

Weapons: The Destroyer’s head is used to direct Odinforce directly at the enemy. … The Destroyer is an enchanted suit of armour forged by Odin; its body is unbreakable. … The Destroyer has no soul and no life.

Story: Thought by many to be a myth, the Destroyer is tasked with guarding the vault, which holds Asgard’s most dangerous relics, including the Casket of Ancient Winters.

MY TWO CENTS

Not much to say here, while the movie implies Loki sees what the Destroyer sees and hears what the Destroyer hears in the early version of the script he just gave it the instruction to ‘Ensure his brother does not return.’ Since the Destroyer was thought to be a myth it’s possible in the original idea of the script he didn’t get how much of a deadly weapon it was… though the name is kind of telling. Anyway it’s kind of pointless to discuss it as, ultimately, in the final cut of the movie, Loki was given the chance to have the Destroyer spare Thor and didn’t so what previously could have meant to happen is kind of erased.

JANE FOSTER

Abilities/attributes: Smarter than the average human, determined and kind-hearted

Gear: Jane’s Pinzgauer, which serves as a research vehicle, helps her to view and record the occurrences happening over the Puente Antiguo skies.

Story: … Both jaded scientist Dr. Erik Selvig and wided-eyed student Darcy Lewis are with Jane when she first encounters Thor. …

MY TWO CENTS

Not much of interest is said about Jane. As her kindheartedness in the movie didn’t stand out much because overshadowed by her interest for science I thought it was worth pointing out she’s kind. Also Selvig is only described as ‘jaded’. So really they didn’t care much for the Earth party.

PHILIP COULSON

Weapons: As a member of SHIELD, Coulson has access to advanced technology and sophisticated weapons—he even mistakes the Destroyer for one of those weapons.

Story: Upon meeting Thor, Coulson suspects the mighty warrior might be a great asset to the top secret Avengers initiative… but will Thor agree?

MY TWO CENTS

Despite Thor entering in their property and attacking his men Coulson wasn’t terrible at all with him and even let him go although he knew Selvig was using a fake I.D. to drag him out. If the idea is he was trying to make friend with him because he believed he could be part of the Avengers… well this makes things interesting.

So well, that’s all I found of interest that wasn’t explicitly said in the movies or that might have been said in a movie and denied or put into discussion in some other material.

Again I recommend you to just buy the booklet as it’s worth it and since it’s pretty small it won’t even take too much space in your collection.

[spiral-ingoutofcontrol]

Where the Ocean is the Sky Part One: Memory

A/N: AHHH happy pride month! I’ve been sitting on this plot for a while and I figured, what better time to start posting a wlw wizard101/pirate101 crossover than pride month? This part is just shy of 1800 words and I hope y’all like it!

xxx

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Andy mumbled to Captain Avery as they watched Madame Vadima peer over her cauldron. His expression was distorted by the candlelight of Vadima’s enclave, but she could still see that distinctive grin. Nothing ever made that man happier than knowing that he was winning.

He scoffed, not even sparing her a glance. “You’ve had nothing but gold in your eyes since I told you how much the client is paying.”

Andy’s eyes stayed trained on Vadima as the woman dropped what looked like batacuda eyes into the potion she was weaving. Ew. “Maybe we should take some time to rethink the Grizzleheim angle.”

“You can’t sneak into a small community like that. They’d have you made in a second. The client said that this would work.”

She tried to keep her face from scrunching up in disgust at the way he talked down to her. Years building up her reputation and Avery still talked to her like he did when she first came stumbling onto the island, wide-eyed and on the run from the Armada. They were gone now, thanks to her, and Avery still refused to speak to her like she was an adult. The only time he even acknowledged what she’d done- not only for him, but most of the damn spiral- was when he wanted something from her. Clearly he knew she was one the best. He just refused to actually say it. Subodai was convinced that he had a grudge because she had clearly surpassed his own skill level. Bonnie Anne thought that he was just an asshole and Andy couldn’t help but agree with the fox.

“Still,” Andy argued, watching Vadima sprinkle crushed cammun root over the mixture. “I’m not exactly in the habit of trusting people that won’t even tell me their real name. Or you.”

Avery let out a boisterous laugh at the last bit, clapping her on the shoulder. “Scared that I made this all up to poison you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“It is ready,” Vadima announced, catching their attention. “And it is not poison.”

Andy took a step toward the cauldron. What had once been the clear blue water of skull island had turned into a thick, silvery liquid that shimmered as it reflected the lights around it. A large bubble rose slowly to its surface and popped. It looked more like liquid metal than something that was actually ingestible. Still, if there was something she’d learned over the last few years on the island, it was to never doubt Madame Vadima.

She sniffed the potion slightly. Cammun root. Figured.  “So I drink this and it’ll make me look like a ghost?”

Vadima looked unimpressed with her question. “It will mask your life force and allow me to transport you through the spirit’s realm.”

“So a ghost, got it.” She glanced over at Avery, the wisps of a nervous expression on her face. “This is a lot of work for some old man’s staff.”

“It’s a lot of work for a lot of money, which we’re splitting 50/50.”

Andy rolled her eyes at his last minute attempt to renegotiate. “Nice try. 70/30, my favor. And don’t think I forgot to tell my crew that you agreed to still give them work while I’m gone.”

“The Steel Heart’s crew still has a contract, Captain,” he replied with a sigh. “Although I would have preferred you to hand the reins over to someone other than that wretched fox.”

“We need to act before it begins to boil.”

She smirked at him with pride. She might have done that on purpose. “You’ll get over it.”

Andy looked back over at the woman and the potion at her interruption. “Right.”

Quickly but carefully, she began to remove anything that would immediately identify her as a pirate. Her hat, coat, and vest all had to go, leaving her in a loose white shirt and her tight fitting pants. Her weapons belt was the last thing she removed, tentatively placing it in Avery’s open palm. Andy suddenly felt a lot more vulnerable than she’d been in a long time.

“I’m coming back for those, Avery.”

“Of course you are, Captain.” 

If she was more naïve she might have thought that he was trying to reassure her, but she knew that he was only assuring himself. He was sending one of his best contractors into unknown territory unarmed and underprepared. This was a big job and they knew next to nothing about it. Andy didn’t even know how she was going to get back home once she stole the staff that Avery’s buyer was looking for. She had no idea how long it would take her to case the joint, form a plan, and wait for the right moment to execute it. The only thing that was certain was that she was going to be gone for a while. It crossed her mind, as Vadima handed her the silver coated ladle, that this might be a convoluted plan to get rid of her without outright killing her. She pushed the thought from her mind, spoon raised to her lips. Avery loved money more than anything else, and she was probably his most reliable supplier of it. He’d sent her on plenty of death defying missions before. She would be fine.

Despite it’s strange list of ingredients, Vadima’s mixture tasted oddly like vanilla. She never really understood magic, and she didn’t intend to learn. She was perfectly fine with shooting, slicing, and leaving all of the mystical nonsense to others. The vanilla bit at her tongue.

“You should feel it begin to take effect-”

Andy lurched toward Avery as a wave of lightheadedness washed over her. She watched his arms reach out to catch her but never felt his hands. The only thing she could sense was the cold. Like a freezing hand was wrapped tightly around her heart and was dragging her through a thick pool of water. She couldn’t tell seconds from hours. It felt like everything was happening in the blink of an eye and in the passing of days at the same time. Then her lungs started to scream. They were collapsing and being filled to their bursting point at the same time. She moved her arms wildly, searching for some kind of purchase, but there was no way to know up from down. Her hand found a piece of stone that was so cold that it burned, but it was firm. Strong. She pulled herself up.

Andy coughed and sputtered as she hit the cobblestone pavement, fighting to regulate her breathing. She could vaguely register the screams around her as she popped out of seemingly nowhere, but she couldn’t be bothered to take in any of her surroundings. The icy darkness of the spirit’s realm was clashing hard against the heat of this world’s sun and her body was going into shock. It had happened before- deadly injuries were common in her line of work- but she had had her crew with her then. People that she trusted. All she had here was a group of strangers staring at her with wide eyes.

“Give her some room!” Andy didn’t see who said it, too busy dying on the sidewalk. Someone gently took her head in their hands, resting her on their kneeling thighs. All Andy could make out of their face was the way that the sun streamed around them like a halo. Her vision began to blacken. And that’s when her savior started to hum.

It was soft and airy, a melodic tune that she didn’t recognize but felt oddly familiar. The song was calming in an unexplainable way, Andy could feel her heartbeat begin to slow and breaths even out as the woman continued her song, fingers resting lightly on her temples. Warmth radiated from the girl’s fingertips and it tasted like oranges on Andy's tongue. Magic. It had that same powerful tinge as Vadima’s potion, but where the potion was sour, this magic was sweet. Like indulging in Karamellian chocolate on a blissful summer night.

The feeling tapered out as the girl stopped humming and removed her hands. Andy took the opportunity to sit up, fingers running through the tangles in her hair once as she turned to look at the girl with the sickly sweet magic. She thickly swallowed as she finally got a good look at her savior. The girl's long dark tresses and light brown skin stood in direct contrast to Andy’s pale hands and fiery red hair. Her angel’s soft, symmetrical features were almost as ethereal as her eyes, big and brown, with just a hint of gold running around the edges. Andy felt like she couldn’t breathe again, but this time in a way that made her heart sing instead of seize.

“Are you alright?” Even the way she spoke made Andy feel dizzy.

“I . . .” she tried to speak but came out as only a breathy whisper. “Thank you.”

The brunette smiled at her sympathetically before placing her hands on her own thighs and pushing herself into a standing position. And just like that the spell was broken. Andy needed to get it together. This was a mission. She was here to steal something, not stare doe-eyed at the first beautiful woman she ran into.

“Alright, show’s over everyone. Get to where you’re going.” Footsteps started around them along with a few annoyed groans as the crowd began to disperse. The girl reached a hand down and Andy gingerly took it, letting the girl help her to her feet. Andy swayed purposefully as she stood, stumbling into the taller girl’s chest like she was still dizzy. It worked like a charm, the girl quickly wrapping her hands around Andy’s shoulders and looking at her with concern. “Let’s find you a place to sit down.”

“By Bartleby, Nora, what’s going on out here?” Andy’s head swiveled to the new voice, taking in the old, bearded man who was wearing the most ridiculous set of clothes the pirate had ever seen. His blue star-spotted robes looked like pajamas and his hat seemed to defy the laws of physics to balance on top of his wrinkling head. In his left hand he held a staff that clearly doubled as a walking stick, the golden head curling around  a glowing blue orb. She recognized that staff. Avery had shown a drawing of it to her three days ago when she agreed to take this job. “Who is this?”

The girl- Nora looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell them her name. Andy’s mouth went dry. “I- I don’t know.”

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 38- Potions

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Redland, the capitol city of magic, where the hermits hope to gather the supplies they need if they hope to survive the Hangman’s Playground. While Etho and Stress are gathering potions, they meet unlikely allies- with closer ties than they expect.

______________________________

Redland stretches to the sky, the quirky nature of magic on full show even in the architecture of the city. Towers peaked with rotund pinnacles, painted bright and distinctive colors. All levels of the city are full of the bright, baubled roofs. The main street and busy sections of the city are perfectly manicured, hedges with vibrant flowers and verdant greens, but when the hermits look down calm alleys and quiet streets, nature has settled against the brickwork and grown between the cobble, nature filling in with it’s own eccentric accents. 

The hermits wander through the city, an eclectic town full of wandering walkways, silent speakeasies, and unique universities. The schools of magic sit across from each other, students of offensive magic having lunch with students studying performance arcana. Bright banners wave in the breeze. Shops are full of any and every kind of item, a bazaar of the magic and mundane. Some shops boast large inventories, enchantments made enmasse and sold to large crowds- glamors were a favorite. Others host the antique and unique. No rhyme or reason what they hold, useless lamps next to powerful staffs.

TFC turns to Xisuma. “Can you divvy up the gold? We can cover more ground finding supplies for our mission if we separate.” 

“What I wouldn’t give for that sky kid’s magic right now.” Xisuma sighs, digging out the gold and handing it off to various groups of hermits. 

Stress and Etho glance at one another. “I think we’re gonna look for some potions firstly. If we go to the alchemy academy, I’m absolutely positive we’ll find somethin’.” 

“And if not, we can… convince a student to help us get what we want.” Etho pats his back, feeling his kusarigama tucked in his light, silent material. 

“Don’t forget to ask about the ingredients!” BDubs shouts as the two walk away, towards the bright green and yellow tower that holds the school of potion brewing. “Silvershade is not the same as Shadesilver!” 

Stress shakes her head, and challenges Etho to a footrace through the city. He accepts with a grin, and they take off down the main avenue. She laughs, feeling a sense of freedom in how strong the magic is in the city. Redland embodies everything magic is. It’s natural, it's eclectic, it’s bright, it’s unique. And every flower blooming in between the cobblestones, every shop full of mysterious wares and magical amulets, is full of that spirit. 

She turns her head, calling back to Etho from over her shoulder. “I’m gonna win, try an’ catch me!” 

From beneath the midnight blue mask that covers Etho’s nose and lips, a coy grin appears. He’s given Stress the lead, only to shock his friend when he wins. His mismatched eyes glimmer with mischief, and he turns. Running straight into a tree. 

Straight into a tree’s shadow. He leaves the plane of existence, and skids on his feet as he enters the shadow realm. Grey, calming mist dances through shadows, and his feet tapping through puddles of water across the floor. In all the time he’s spent in this realm, he can never truly understand it. He doesn’t know why it’s so misty, impossible to see more than a few meters in front of him. Or where the mist comes from, dancing in the darkness. Why it’s damp, like a rain had just occurred. He’s never seen it rain here. He also has no clue why it smells funky in here. Like a wayward explosion matched with rotten fish. Is there even anything more than a puddle around here? 

No matter. Etho’s winning this race. He takes off in the direction he and Stress were running, feeling himself pass through buildings, hedges, even people in the other realm. It’s a tingly feeling in his belly. Once he’s sure he’s made it to the alchemy school, he casts his magic, tossing it in front of him to reenter the mortal realm. 

He passes right through it. He stumbles and crashes to the floor, not so ninja-like. “Dammit, no not now!” 

There’s no discernable shadows for him to jump through. The sun must be tucked behind a cloud. Too big a swath of darkness for him to use, too general. He paces, tossing a circle with every turn of his heels, running through each time. He did this to beat Stress, being a badass and a bastard. He specializes in that delicate balance of the two.  But instead, he’s stuck in the stinky shadow realm, and worse he lost the footrace. 

His spell casts again, but when he walks through this time, he’s met by the blinding bright light of the sun. And Stress’s gleeful cackle. “You cheated! None of that magical stuff!” 

“What does it matter, it didn’t work.” He states, but he’s smiling all the same. Etho runs his hand over his white hair, tugging it away from his face so he can see the alchemy tower in full. “Should we check the shops first? What are we even looking for?” 

“Queen Erlea said we’re gonna need some healing potions and deterrents for the forest. I can assume mental and emotional potions are in that category.” Stress counts along the street full of potion shops, before spinning around and letting fate decide where they search first. A bright green shop, the window filled with potted plants and chaotic cats. Stress squeals at the sight of the kittens and bolts to the shop. Etho follows behind, grabbing the door before it can slam back to it’s jamb, without disturbing the sunbathing felines. 

They peruse this store. And the next. And the next. Finding healing potions was easy, and with Etho’s aggressive bartering they’re even discounted. Bottles of bright pink liquid, bundles of travel sized form- gummy chews easy to pop into one’s mouth-, and tiny tinctures full of potent life saving potions. 

But no matter what store they enter, how many times they ask or persuade, no one sells mental potions. Some say they’re pseudomagic, others that they’re too hard to create. And after being kicked out of another alchemy shop, Stress and Etho are sitting on the sidewalk, bouncing ideas across each other. 

“Maybe we don’t need them? Maybe the others will find supplies that can do the job?” Etho offers. 

“Or perhaps we can search Joe’s library to find something else.” Stress flops back, ignoring how she blocks the sidewalk as she stares up at the sky. “Where can we get mental barrier potions but Redland?” 

“Why not try making them ourselves?” Etho looks over, gazing at the Alchemy tower. “I bet that school has every book, ingredient, and setup ever invented. We’re clever and smart, we’re hermits after all. If no one makes them, we’ll make them ourselves.” 

Stress reclines up to her elbows, squinting her eyes. “Yer right, Etho. Think you can get us into one of them potion rooms of the school?” 

“Do I think I can? I know I can.” Etho snickers. They walk through the open doors of the school, bustling past students young and old, human or kipling or insectia or even bacca, boy or girl or otherwise. Etho pulls down his mask to fit in with the crowd, though his hair always sticks out. Stress keeps close to him, glancing around the halls. For a second, she swears she sees someone looking at her, but she ducks her head and keeps moving. They turn a cornerl, following the signs for potion labs. Listening for one room to be empty. Etho stops at the doorway of one. Closes his eyes, and walks through a shadow. 

But he returns from where he entered. “No, no it’s all dark in there! Why don’t they have anything boiling, any lamps or anything! What kind of lab is this?” 

“My lab, and what do you plan to do with my laboratory?” A strong, clear voice cuts through both hermits like a knife, and they both freeze. Maybe if they don’t move, the voice will move on. But instead, another voice rises up. 

“You’re hermits, are you not?” A younger, sharp voice drawls. “I was told about you. Didn’t expect two of you bitches to be sneakin’ into my professor’s lab.” 

Etho makes a bolt for the nearest shadow, but he passes right through the shadow and back into light. Stumbling down the hall, he’s dragged back to the professor and student combo, while Stress is turned around to face them. Etho taps his fingers. “We were just… looking around! Trying to find the bathrooms.” 

The student looks up at the professor, eyebrows rising from a serious face. He nods, clasping his hands behind his back. The student grins, tucks a lock of black hair behind an elongated ear, and snaps her fingers. 

“We’re sneakin’ inta the lab to make potions!” Stress claps her hand over her mouth. She didn’t mean to say that. Why did she say that? “No one makes what we need to enter the Forest of Memories!” 

“The Forest of Memories? Red said you were batshit crazy, but that…” Etho picks up his head, vaguely recognizing the name. 

“Well, you could have just asked for my keys.” Sylaeus shrugs, producing a ring full of mismatched keys and dangling chains. “Selene, be a dear and get these two my Encyclopedia of Potions. I’ll start up the burners.” 

Shock registers on both hermits faces, but Selene dutifully saunters down the hall, turning and entering a large door in the passage. Stress walks into the lab, admiring the collection of jars, half finished potions, and ingredients kept in the room. But Etho no longer has the inclination to enter. “Why are you helping us? We just tried to break into your lab.” 

“If you need a potion that badly that you would try to break into my office, you must need it for good reason. Adventuring into the Forest of Memories is one hell of a reason at that.” Sylaeus ignites a flame beneath a long, complicated series of funnels, tubes, and flasks. He tempers the flame, fire glimmering of his intense gaze. “Besides, it means I get to teach more about potions.” 

Selene returns with the book, hefting a tome as large as her torso and twice as thick. “So what the hell kind of potions are you guys going to make?” 

“Potions that will negate our fears and dampen the effects of the forest?” Stress tries her best to repeat what Queen Erlea suggested. “Maybe some repel potions as well?” 

The long eared mage hauls open the book, flipping through the pages with intense, glaring eyes. She stops, turning it around for Etho and Stress to see. “You had to request the most difficult potions to fucking make. It’s a damn good thing I spent the past month gathering more than enough supplies for you to use.” 

And with the guidance of Sylaeus and his student, Etho and Stress get to work. The careful art of alchemy came naturally to both hermits- Stress’s attention to detail let her see exactly when the right shade of amber for the potion appeared, while Etho’s perceptive training and patience guide him through finding just the right mixture of Silvershade and shadesilver. Even Sylaeus complimented his new students on their fine work. 

“While we’re waiting for the mixture to cool, would either of you like a drink?” She waves her hand, and four cups appear before them. The professor grins, swiping a drink and guzzling the never ending cup down. 

“My student’s finest mixture.” Sylaeus grins, patting his apprentice on the top of her fluffy, long mane of hair. 

“Is it a healing potion?” Etho questions. “Or maybe a stamina potion?” 

“Lemonade. Sip sip bitch.” Selene retorts, deadpanned. 

“Miss Selene, are you a multi-mage? You used telekinesis to drag Etho back before, but now you used summoning magic.” Stress takes a drink, shocked to watch that her cup is never ending. “A-and some kind of spatial magic?” 

“Selene here is my best student for more reasons than one. Not only can she brew better potions than even master alchemists, but she also spent years studying magic until she gained power of her own.” Sylaeus sees the confusion on the two’s face, and lets Selene fill them in. 

“I was born without magic.” She states. “It’s rare, but it happens. I wasn’t ready to give up on myself yet. I spent days and nights, studying every book I could get my hands on, watching the other kids use their magic. With enough time and dedication, I found the power within myself. Whatever magic I study, I can create.” 

Stress has tears welling in her eyes by the time the story is over. “What a lovely tale, an’ look at you now! All that persistence and never givin’ up paid off!” 

“I’m sure Selene could have lived her life without magic, or have chosen a darker route to gain power. But it’s her own magic, and she’s a proud S-Class wizard!” Sylaeus beams like a father, a teacher proud of his student.

The potion behind them starts to rapidly shift colors, and all four descend upon it to add the last ingredient- prismarine shards shed from a guardian. Etho wonders where Selene got such a prized ingredient, something most kiplings aren’t willing to part with.

 In a puff of smoke, the potion stabilizes. Selene corks the bottle, writing in scrawling handwriting of it’s intention, and hands it off to Stress. She also guides them out, an orb of soft white light guiding them down the halls of the academy. 

Etho’s reminded of one other person who had seemingly unlimited types of magic. “You know… Magistrate Dolios claims to be a multi-mage, but his magic is a lot like yours.” 

“Watch it, asshole.” Selene growls, opening the door and letting them out of the Alchemy tower. “I think we both know that the magistrate lies about everything. Perhaps that includes how he got his magic.”

[it-begins-with-rain]

Asian TV Recommendations: Masterpost

I’ve decided to consolidate my Asian TV Recommendations to a single post!

*Updated 10/04/2020: Dance of the Phoenix, The Lost Tomb, Reunion: The Sound of the Providence

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A Love So Beautiful

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Can the pure love of 17-year-olds endure through all the challenges of college and adulthood?

Chen Xiao Xi and Jiang Chen are high school friends and neighbors who grew up together. Xiao Xi is happy-go-lucky and doesn’t like to study much but she has a talent for drawing. Jiang Chen is popular for his good looks and high grades, but is cold and indifferent to other people. 

Their friends include swimmer Wu Bo Song, who will do anything for XiaoXi, the dorky and over-confident gamer Lu Yang, and Lin Jing Xiao, the most beautiful girl in school (who Lu Yang is hopelessly in love with).

How will the realities of life shape the friendships and love lives of these young adults?

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Abyss (Netflix Original)

Language: Korean

Abyss is a spherical orb that has the power to raise the dead- with a kick: If you were a good person, you are resurrected younger and more attractive. If you were a bad person, your body could change into any form (generally you are at least decades older). 

This is all well and good, until kind-hearted (yet unattractive) Cha Min is resurrected as a young hottie and given the Abyss. He finds an old man dead in the road and uses it to save him- unwittingly resurrecting a violent serial killer on his way to murder Cha Min’s best friend and lifelong crush, Criminal Prosecutor Se Yeon. 

Cha Min resurrects the vain and petty Se Yeon (who returns to a body identical to her professional rival) and together they must hunt down the murderer- whatever his new face may be.

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Arang and the Magistrate // The Tale of Arang

Language: Korean

The foolhardy ghost of a young woman seeks to discover the truth behind her unjust death and meets a magistrate named Eun-oh, who has the ability to see ghosts. 

She is in possession of a distinct hairpin given to Eun-Oh’s missing mother- meaning Arang was holding it when she died. Eun-Oh and Arang’s search for her memories and his mother will become the focus of gods and ghouls alike.

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Ashes of Love // Heavy Sweetness, Ash-Like Frost

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Jin Mi is the secret lovechild of the Flower Deity and the Water Immortal, conceived before the Flower Deity suffers a fatal wound. 

The deity gives birth to a baby girl (Jin Mi) on her deathbed, and foresees the infant will face a terrible trial by her 10,000th year. To save her from her fate, the Flower Deity gives Jin Mi a pill that makes it impossible for her to ever feel romantic love. Upon her death, she forbids anyone in the Flower Kingdom from revealing the fact that she had a child.

Several thousand years later, Jin Mi is a bumbling little fairy trapped in The Water Mirror- a gilded prison where low-level fairies can live in peace. Jin Mi believes she is a small Grape Fairy, and lives a happy (if not dull) life within the Mirror with her friends.

When a charred bird falls from the heavens into the Water Mirror, Jin Mi decides to eat save the poor little ‘crow’-- who in reality is Xu Feng, the mighty phoenix son of the Heavenly Emperor. Her decision to not eat save the Fire God will put them at the heart of plots and schemes, romances and adventures spanning the Flower Kingdom, Heavenly Realm, Demon Kingdom, and the Realm of Mortals.

**Trigger Warning: Contains reference to off-camera sexual assault.**

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Because This is My First Life

Language: Korean

Nam Se-Hee is a single man in his early 30's. A highly logical and anti-social man, he is constantly pressured by his family to find a woman and marry her- something he has no interest in whatsoever. The only things that matter in Se-Hee’s life are his cat and working so that he can pay off the mortgage on his house in 30 years.

Yoon Ji-Ho  is a single woman in her early 30's. An assistant drama writer, she has lofty dreams and barely two pennies to rub together. The home she and her brother live in is cramped and small- doubly so once she finds out her brother has been living with a wife he never told her about. Ji-Ho is forced out of her home and- due to her financial situation- moves in with a “young woman” she’s only met via text- Nam Se-Hee.

Events unfold that will force Ji-Ho and Se-Hee into a corner from which they can only find one way out:: Enter into a strictly contracted marriage, absent love, romance, or sex, and keep up their ruse around family and friends for a period of two years.

But as time goes on, the cold and robotic Se-Hee and hopeless Ji-Ho begin to develop feelings for one another beyond that of a Landlord and a Tenant. It is only too easy for them to slip into the roles of Husband and Wife.

**Trigger Warning: On-Camera attempted rape, numerous instances of sexual harassment and non-rape assault (ie, groping)**

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Cunning Single Lady

Language: Korean

Na Aera, a woman left with crippling debt after divorcing her husband, learns her ex has become a millionaire off a mobile app she inspired during their time together. She forms a plot to seduce her ex husband, re-marry him, and then take him for half his new net-worth. Her ex is well aware of this plot, and has been waiting for a chance to get some closure of his own for their abrupt split. 

There are two questions the pair must find the answer together: How do you scheme against someone if you accidentally fall in love with them again? And why did Na Aera really decide to leave her husband in the first place?

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Dance of the Phoenix

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Feng Wu, a former genius girl in the Junwu Continent, was attacked by her old enemy Zuo Qingluan. In the attack, she lost not only her memories and abilities, but her “phoenix blood” which made her powerful.

In order to save Feng Wu her secret tutor, Master Mu Jiuzhou (a hero thought long dead whose soul is bound inside a ring Feng Wu wears around her neck), exhausted his vitality and fell into a deep coma. 

The forces Master Mu Jiuzhou were trying to keep at bay are roiling again, readying for war unless Feng Wu can recover her memories, her power, and survive long enough to release him from the ring.

But if Feng Wu at full power couldn’t stop the evil Zhuo Qingluan’s attack and save herself, what chance does “normal person” Feng Wu have?

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Dear Judge // Your Honor

Language: Korean

Han Soo-Ho and Han Kang-Ho were born as identical twins, but live totally different lives. 

Han Soo-Ho is a seemingly righteous judge, respected by all and beloved by his mother no matter how cold and dismissive he is. He is corrupt to his core and sells desired sentences to major corporations, no matter who gets hurt in the crossfire.

Han Kang-Ho, raised in his brother’s shadow, is a petty criminal with 5 separate prison terms under his belt. He flaunts the law and lives an angry and miserable life as the nobody his mother tells him he is.

When Han Soo-Ho is abducted by people intent on getting their own brand of justice, it coincides with Kang-Ho needing somewhere to hide. He secretly takes his brother’s place as a judge. He intends to just cut and run, but begins to fall for judicial intern Song So-Eun, whose blind faith in the justice system is both misguided and infectious. 

Han Kang-Ho, once considered trash by his own family, suddenly finds himself highly respected and admired. As a veteran of the criminal justice system he knows every trick and trap, but will he use his knowledge to rake in the dough like his corrupt brother, or will he wield his newfound power to bring mercy to the law?

**Trigger Warning: Contains partially on-camera rape, references to rape, assault, and themes of assault-related PTSD**

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Fairyland Lovers

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Bai Qi is a “spiritual doctor” who travels the world to rid spirits of their obsessions and stop them from becoming monsters. Eons ago he himself was at the threshold of becoming an Evil Spirit, and was saved by a Divine Warrior who helped him find a way to move past his darkness before tragically losing her life.

Isolated from the world and alone with a sprig of his lost love’s peach tree, Bai Qi meets the sunny but hapless actress Lin Xia. Not only does the tree come to life in her presence- and not only can she use the tools left behind by his lost lover- she also has the same face.

Curious, Bai Qi enters into a co-habitation agreement with Lin Xia and she helps him cleanse souls before they can turn into Evil Spirits. As their lives intersect, a memory that Bai Qi sealed away for over ten thousand years begins to surface.

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Flower of Evil

Language: Korean

Baek Hee-Sung seems like the perfect husband.

A craftsman, his hard work allowed his metal-working studio to flourish and he provides a good life for his wife, Detective Cha Ji-Won, and their young daughter. But behind his perfectly sculpted mask hides a dark secret that even his wife does not know:

Baek Hee-Sung is really Do Min-Soo, a boy believed to have aided his father in a series of grizzly serial-murders 18 years ago. 

Unfortunately, secrets have a way of coming out, and as a homicide detective, it is Cha Ji-Won’s job to uncover as many of them as she can. A murderer strikes, leaving behind all the hallmarks of the murders committed by Do Min-Soo’s father. Ji-Won finds herself on a dark path that could destroy the very foundations of her happy life.

Who is Baek Hee-Sung? What really happened eighteen years ago? And what will Cha Ji-Won do once she realizes just who she is married to?

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Guardian

Language: Chinese

Super-Detective Zhao Yunlan meets university professor (and powerful supernatural being) Shen Wei and the two men are instantly drawn together by a past one cannot forget and a future the other cannot guess. As they grow closer, they find themselves at the heart of a high-stakes supernatural battle between unknown enemies.

Will the heroic duo’s unique talents- and special bond- be enough to help them outwit the forces of darkness?

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Handsome Siblings (2020 Netflix Edition)

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Hua Wuque is a pillar of righteousness and virtue, the only male disciple of the powerful Yihua Palace cultivation clan. An orphan, he was taken in by the clan leader and her sister and raised with only one goal in life: to find and kill Jiang Xiaoyu, a mighty villain and enemy of Yihua Palace.

So who is Jiang Xiaoyu? Also known as Xiaoyu’er, Jiang Xiaoyu is an orphan himself- the same age as Hua Wuque in fact- raised by the five most feared and hated villains in the world within the confines of the Wicked Canyon. Into Jiang Xiaoyu the villains poured their knowledge, tricks, and ruthlessness, seeking to create the ultimate villain. There is only one problem: As he was raised in the Wicked Canyon and surrounded by nothing but villains, Jiang Xiaoyu mostly uses his abilities to… harm villains and protect the weak.

When Jiang Xiaoyu comes of age and leaves the Wicked Canyon (or rather, becomes too much of a trickster for the villains to handle anymore), Hua Wuque is unleashed to venture from Yihua Palace and hunt down his enemy. 

But how could someone kept confined in the Wicked Canyon for the first 18 years of his life be a threat to Yihua Palace? And why must Hua Wuque be the one to kill him (under direction that Jiang Xiaoyu cannot die naturally, be killed by someone else, or kill himself)?

There is a piece of the story Jiang Xiaoyu and Hua Wuque do not know: they are orphans of the same tragedy, in which the divine hero Jiang Feng spurned the love of both leaders of Yihua Palace for a beautiful servant named Hua Yuenu. Hua Yuenu was forced to commit suicide and Jiang Feng killed himself rather than submit to the Ladies of Yihua–

Leaving behind newborn (non-identical) twin sons.

Yihua Palace’s plot is a simple (if OTT) act of vengeance against Jiang Feng’s memory:: Force one brother to murder the other, then reveal to Hua Wuque the sin he has committed and let it drive the boy insane.

Will the truth come out before Wuque finds and kills Xiaoyu, or will the evil Ladies of Yihua Palace finally have the vengeance they have waited for for over 18 years? As Wuque and Xiaoyu’s paths cross more and more they strike up an unlikely friendship, even knowing there is no escaping their dark fate.

**Trigger Warning: Later episodes include off-camera sexual assault and on-camera depictions of near-rape.**

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Hello, My Twenties

Language: Korean

With different personalities, life goals, and taste in men, five female college students become housemates in a shared residence called Belle Epoque.

Trigger Warning: Season 1 contains scenes of abuse and forced confinement; Season 2 deals with severe PTSD.

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Hi My Sweetheart

Language: Taiwanese-Mandarin

Xue Hai is a kindhearted (and extremely wealthy) but naïve man who has been sheltered by his big sisters his entire life. He decides to go to college in China- where no one knows him- under the name Da Lang and with the image of a poor scholarship student. There Xue Hai meets the dominant, friendless, and rebellious Bao Zhu. Naturally the two fall in love, but after 4 years together, just as he’s going to reveal his identity and propose, Bao Zhu viciously dumps him.

Fast forward three more years. Xue Hai has transformed himself into a handsome but ruthless playboy who treats women as nothing more than toys to be used and cast aside. When he chances across Bao Zhu once more, he decides to launch a campaign to destroy her heart as thoroughly and mercilessly as she did his. 

Except Xue Hai is missing one important piece of their love story: Bao Zhu only left him to protect him from her domineering mother, and she has been searching for her beloved Da Lang ever since.

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Hit the Top // The Best Hit

Language: Korean

A free-spirited idol vanishes in the early 90s and reappears in 2017 where he is given a second chance to mend his previous relationships, form a bond with a son he never knew existed, and perhaps solve his own suspected murder before fate throws him back where he belongs.

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Hotel Del Luna

Language: Korean

Nestled deep in the heart of Seoul’s thriving downtown sits a mysterious hotel, the likes of which no one has ever seen before. Old beyond measure, the building has stood for millennia, an ever-present testament to the fact that things are not always what they seem. 

The Hotel Del Luna is the final place on this earth lost souls pass through before they move on to the other side. For centuries the hotel has been under the control of Man Wol- a greedy and suspicious immortal. 

When the multi-faced goddess of Fate plants a human in her path to take over as Manager of the hotel, she gives him a task: discover the truth of Man Wol’s grudge and heal her weary soul before Man Wol succumbs to past hatreds and destroys herself forever.

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The King’s Avatar

Language: Mandarin Chinese

In the online multiplayer game Glory, Ye Xiu is well known as the undisputed master of professional sports- though no one outside of the professional teams actually knows what he looks like as he hides his face from media and fans. A player since he was a child- and raised largely in professional player training camps- Ye Xiu has no understanding of the outside world.

Halfway through the season, the money-hungry company behind his team, Excellency Era, forces him out and replaces him with an undisciplined hot-shot. Penniless and with nowhere to go, Ye Xiu crosses the street and enters the Happy Internet Cafe. The owner is a diehard fan of the mysterious Ye Xiu, and hires Ye Qiu as an IT manager not for his experience, but for his shared love of the game. 

When Glory launches their tenth server, Ye Qiu throws himself into the game once more. Equipped with ten years of gaming experience, memories of an unfinished pledge to a dead friend, and an incomplete self-made weapon, Ye Qiu will rise from the ashes, forge a new team, and take back his crown.

**This drama sees actor Yang-Yang once again assume the role of Legendary Gamer, as he played previously in ‘Love O2O’ (Recommended below)

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The Lost Tomb**

Language: Mandarin Chinese

50 years ago, a group of Changsha grave robbers known as the “Mystic Nine” dug out manuscripts of the location of treasures from the Warring States period, but soon after almost the entire group was hunted down and slaughtered.

In the present, the young grandchild of the sole survivor, Wu Xie, discovers a secret within his grandfather's notes as well as half of a silk manuscript that may reveal the location of the lost tomb. But there is one problem- the other half of the manuscript is held by a shady organization of tomb raiders eager to break in and steal whatever cultural relics are inside the tomb.

Wu Xie has a "National Treasure” moment and decides that in order to stop the objects in the tomb from vanishing into the black market he will break in first and recover whatever is inside (’I’m going to steal the Declaration of Independence...’). 

Wu Xie is helped on his journey by his beloved “Third Uncle” Wu Sanxing, his uncle’s right hand man Panzi, and the mysterious Xiao Ge - a tomb raider who seems to know of traps before they are sprung and whose hand has been mutilated in a way not seen among tomb robbing families in over a century.

They expected to find a lost tomb, perhaps chase away some thieves, and learn about an exciting piece of lost history. What they did not expect was for the tomb to strike back, the dead to rise, and the past to fight and keep what secrets it holds.

Who exactly are this alternate group of tomb robbers? What are they searching for? What exactly is protecting the tomb? Whose side is Xiao Ge truly on? And- most crucially- can Wu Xie survive long enough to find the answers?

** This recommendation is part of a broader series of shows and movies, all adapted from “The Gravedigger’s Notebook” and its sequels::

The Lost Tomb (2015)

The Lost Tomb 2: Explore With the Note (2016)

Time Raiders (2016 movie)

The Mystic Nine (2016)

Tomb of the Sea (2018)

Reunion: The Sound of the Providence (which gets its own recommendation below; 2019-2020)

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Love O2O

Language: Mandarin Chinese

** O = letter, not number

Wei-Wei has both beauty and brains. A computer goddess, she aspires to be an online game developer. In her spare time, she plays her favorite online game ‘A Chinese Ghost Story’- where she has made a name for herself as the top female player on the entire server.

After her online husband dumps her, she gets a message from legendary player Yixiao Naihe- asking to become her online husband (marriages in-game offer certain benefits and quest lines single players cannot achieve).

Little does Wei-Wei know that Yixiao Naihe is also her college senior and the most desired man on campus, Xiao Nai.

Will their online chemistry lead to a real-life romance? Yes. Of course it will. It’s in the title.

** Can’t get enough of Xiao Nai (Yang-Yang) as the Legendary Gamer? Check out his new show ‘The King’s Avatar’ (Recommended above).

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My Roommate is a Detective

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Shanghai in 1925 is caught between gang leaders and the European powers colonizing China. 

A resourceful young police officer named Qiao Chu Sheng is on the trail of a brutal but devious killer. Realizing that the police force will need some extra help with this difficult case, he decides to form an elite crime-busting detective team. He reaches out Lu Yao, a Cambridge graduate a slick con-man. 

Qiao Chu Sheng has learned that Lu Yao has remarkable powers of deduction and a brilliant mind – and believes he can help crack this difficult case. To round off the team, he enlists the help of Bai You Ning, a focused young female reporter for a daily newspaper. A free-thinking, independent young woman, she has a strong sense of justice – and pledges to help catch the killer. 

The trio form a small detective squad that specializes in solving strange and unsettling murder mysteries.

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Mystic Pop-Up Bar

Language: Korean

Mystic Pop-up Bar tells the story of a mysterious outdoor drinking establishment run by an ill-tempered woman named Wol Joo, an innocent part-time employee named Han Kang Bae, and a former afterlife detective known as Chief Gwi who visit customers in their dreams to help resolve their problems.

To atone for a devastating mistake in her past life, Wol-Joo must aleviate the suffering of 100,000 individuals. After 500 years the counter stands at 99,990, but the impatient judges of the afterlife are tired of Wol-Joo’s bad attitude and increasing hatred of humanity.

She now has just one month to save 10 people, or else her soul will be destroyed forever.

**It’s worth noting the heavy similarities between Mystic Pop-Up Bar and Hotel Del Luna, though it should be said that Mystic Pop Up Bar’s script was finished first while Hotel Del Luna was made more quickly. The similarities between the two shows appears to be coincidental.

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Oh My Emperor

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Fei-Fei, a young doctor, is wounded in an accident and finds herself trapped in the ancient and mystical nation of Huang Dao. The people of Huang Dao are ruled by a king born of the stars- the physical embodiment of one of the twelve zodiac constellations. To keep discord from arising among the people, the Twelve Zodiac Masters govern together to keep the peace.

But a thirteenth sign has been forcibly subjugated, it’s Lord executed, and its people scattered to the wind. The lost sign- Ophiuchus- is rising once more- and Fei-Fei is its (unwilling) Master.

It only complicates matters slightly that Fei-Fei finds herself between the handsome and charming Master of Aquarius and his nephew- the cold Master of Capricorn (who is also the Emperor). Can Fei-Fei keep her identity secret long enough to solve the mystery of the Ophiuchus purge- or is Huang Dao doomed to destruction?

**This drama is a showpiece for members of the Chinese pop group X-Nine, do not judge it by the same standards as a traditional drama. Showpiece dramas tend to be a bit silly.

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Oh My Ghost

Language: Korean

Soon-Ae is the ghost of a woman who died a virgin. Believing getting laid is her only chance to move on before she becomes an evil spirit, she possesses the body of Bong Sun- an introvert with extremely low self esteem. 

Acknowledging it isn’t an ideal arrangement, Soon-Ae decides help Bong Sun and focuses her seductive attentions on the man Bong Sun is secretly in love with. Bong Sun reluctantly agrees, hoping Soon-Ae’s influence will make her more outgoing and self-assured.

There are two problems with the girls’ plan once it goes into motion: Bong Sun’s colleagues worry she has had a mental breakdown and refuse to take advantage of her; and the longer Soon-Ae is in Bong Sun’s body the more she remembers of her own brutal assault and murder. 

Soon-Ae’s unfinished business might have more to do with justice than tapping a hot chef, but can she solve her murder without putting Bong Sun in danger?

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Psychopath’s Diary

Language: Korean

In the wrong place at the wrong time, kind-hearted and timid Dong Shik plays witness to a gruesome murder. As if that weren’t bad enough, he stumbles across the killer’s diary-a horrible record of his heinous crimes and the psychotic ramblings of a narcissistic sociopath. 

Chased by the killer, Dong Shik runs into traffic and is hit by a police officer. After waking up from a brief coma, Dong Shik is left with 2 things: total amnesia, and the murderer’s diary. Dong Shik mistakes himself for the serial killer, and his personality begins to twist.

Can a timid man become a monster? What of the actual serial killer? With no diary to ground him, it’s only a matter of time before the killer loses what little control he once had.

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Reunion: The Sound of the Providence**

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Wu Xie, “Fatty” Wang Pangzi, and the quasi-immortal tomb raider Xiao Ge (AKA Zheng Qiling, Kylin, and “Poker Face”) have faced many dangerous tombs together over the past twelve years.

Now, it is time for them to go on their last great adventure as the so-called “Iron Triangle” before Wu Xie sets off on the journey all must eventually make: death. He always thought his end would come in a dangerous tomb, but instead it will be lung cancer that claims his life. With only 3-4 months left to live, Wu Xie hides the truth of his illness from his friends and family, revealing the truth only to Xiao Ge.

Once upon a time, Wu Xie was told that when a man meets his death he must do so with a clear conscience. But something has been weighing on Wu Xie- his Third Uncle’s disappearance at the end of their first adventure. Right on time, a message from his long lost uncle appears, setting Wu Xie on a desperate mission to find him before the cancer eating away at his body destroys him at last.

This will most likely be Wu Xie’s final journey, but he will do anything in his power to make sure his friends and family will be safe long after his time is up. In the final 3-4 months of Wu Xie’s life he will seek to unravel the mystery of the “Thunder City”- starting with the most dangerous tomb he’s ever explored, The South Sea King’s Tomb. 

The sound of thunder hides a secret men have killed for, but is there really a way to hear the words of gods within it? Someone clearly thought so, but who? Is Uncle Sanxing still alive, or is someone in the shadows guiding Wu Xie to them?

Wu Xie’s enemies thought he was dangerous before, but now he is a dying man with a mission. There is no telling what lengths he will go to in order to achieve his goals. He might just manage to die in a tomb after all...

** This recommendation is just the latest installment in an entire series of stories adapted from “The Gravedigger’s Notebook” and related novels::

The Lost Tomb (2015)

The Lost Tomb 2: Explore With the Note (2016)

Time Raiders (2016 movie)

The Mystic Nine (2016)

Tomb of the Sea (2018)

Reunion: The Sound of the Providence (2019-2020)

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The Romance of Tiger and Rose

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Chen Xiao Qian has dedicated her life to making her dream of becoming a well-respected screenwriter come true. Standing on the production set of sweeping dramas she penned through endless blood, sweat, and tears, Xiao Qian can hardly believe what she is seeing: her work, come to life!

Except it isn’t a set. And her work truly has come to life.

Her script is a simple one: the heirs of two rival cities who seek to destroy one another enter into a doomed romance that will lead to endless betrayals and a war that will kill the male lead, Han Shuo.

There is just one problem- Xiao Qian wakes in the body of Han Shuo’s first wife on the day he will murder her! The only way for Xiao Qian to return to this world is to survive the story, but in keeping herself alive longer the script begins to change, and Han Shuo begins to fall in love with the wrong person.

At first it is easy for Xiao Qian to keep herself alive- just go along with the script! But the story wants to return to the original plot, which means characters who should be friends become enemies, enemies become friends, and Xiao Qian might not live long enough to find her way home.

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Secret Healer // Mirror of the Witch

Language: Korean

Once upon a time an evil shaman helped the Crown Princess conceive twins- but into the Princess’ womb she also cast a dark curse capable of destroying the nation. Her plans were thwarted by her former mentor- who at the command of the Princess consolidated the curse from two twins into just one- the female child. The world believes the shaman destroyed the princess, burning the baby in holy flame to purge the curse- but instead he decides to raise her and try to help her break the curse upon her.

If she dies before the curse is lifted, it will unleash hell and destroy the nation. To break the curse she must fulfill wishes- but the evil shaman’s life is bound to the curse she cast so long ago. As the curse starts to break, she realizes the child is not as dead as she was lead to believe and begins a campaign to root her out and destroy her.

The princess forms a bond with a young scholar who becomes entangled in the princess’ curse and will stop at nothing to help free her. Her curse carries a catch though: Anyone she loves will die... and anyone who loves her will also perish.

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Strong Woman Do Bong Soon

Language: Korean

A freakishly strong- but totally sweet- woman is caught between the love of her arrogant but handsome boss and her disinterested lifelong crush. 

Her boss wants her to embrace her supernatural strength and use it proudly, but she loves that her crush treats her like someone weak and in need of protection. Bong Soon will have to chose for herself if she will suppress her strength for her childhood crush or unleash herself to protect those she loves. 

A murderer prowling the streets might make that decision for her though...

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The Untamed

Language: Mandarin Chinese

On the cliffs of the Nightless City, upon defeating his enemies in a bloody slaughter, the cruel and vicious Yiling Patriarch- Wei Wuxian- threw himself to his death.

Sixteen years later, he is resurrected by a madman and given a second chance to right what went so terribly wrong long ago. Wei Wuxian reunites with the honorable, righteous, and stern Lan Wangji- his confidant, soulmate, and best friend. 

How can someone as upstanding as Lan Wangji befriend the monstrous and hated Yiling Patriarch? What turned the happy and popular Wei Wuxian into the man who slaughtered thousands at Nightless by weaponizing the souls of the dead? 

And what terrible secret was Wuxian resurrected to unearth?

The past is not always what it seems, and there is no clean line between right and wrong.

**This story is told in two sections: Episode 2 enters a 30-episode flashback sequence showing Wei Wuxian’s path from popular youth to the monster upon the Cliffs of Nightless, with the first 1.5 episodes, and the last 20, dealing with the “present”. Don’t worry if you’re lost when the show starts, that is by design.

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You’re Beautiful

Language: Korean

Go Mi Nyeo has only one goal in life: To take her final vows and become a nun. Her twin brother, Go Mi Nam, desires nothing more than the life of an idol so that he can use his fame to find their missing mother. 

Go Mi Nam’s dream is in jeopardy after a botched surgery and his twin must put her life on hold to quite literally step into his shoes and cover for her brother. 

She joins the band A.N.JELL and quickly ends up on the bad side of their more devil-like leader. Can Go Mi Nyeo hide her true identity from her band-mates long enough for her brother to return?

No. No she cannot. By the end of the first day all but one- the goofy and loving Jeremy- know that she is no man... But they let her think she’s fooled them. It’s funnier that way.

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W: Two Worlds

Language: Korean

Is it possible to live in the same place at the same time, but in a completely different dimension?

Yeon Joo is a second-year cardiothoracic resident doctor. Her father, creator of the world famous web series ‘W’ suddenly disappears one day. While searching for him Yeon Joo finds a strange man covered in blood and only barely manages to resuscitate him before the words “To Be Continued” flash across her vision and he disappears.

When she returns, there is a new chapter of her father’s blockbuster series available online- one that features a doctor with her exact name and clothing saving a man covered in blood...

Where is Yeon Joo’s father? How is the story updating itself? As she is dragged into the world of ‘W’ with increasing frequency Yeon Joo and the story’s leading man, Kang Chul, must answer the most important question of all:

Is it possible something from that world escaped into this one?

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Well Intended Love (Season 1: Drama Version)

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Seasons 1 and 2 of “Well Intended Love” feature the same stars playing the same characters, but the storylines are alternate-universes of one another telling the story from a different genre. Each season is its own wholly contained entity that does not impact- and is not impacted by- the other season in any way.

A third-rate actress with leukemia becomes entangled with the handsome but cold CEO Ling.

In order to receive a bone marrow transplant and contniue her career as an actress, Xia Lin enters into a secret marriage with Ling Yi Zhou. Despite the conspiracies and misunderstandings they encounter, the two begin to find true love.

But one question nags at Xia Lin’s mind:: Why did the cold, controlling, and distant Ling YiZhou need her to play the role of wife?

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Well Intended Love (Season 2: Rom-Com Version)

Language: Mandarin Chinese

Seasons 1 and 2 of “Well Intended Love” feature the same stars playing the same characters, but the storylines are alternate-universes of one another telling the story from a different genre. Each season is its own wholly contained entity that does not impact- and is not impacted by- the other season in any way.

Rising TV superstar Xia Lin finds herself embroiled in scandal after a run-in with business mogul Ling Yizhou at a party. To clear up any misunderstandings the two prepare a joint press conference-- where Xia Lin is stunned by Ling Yizhou’s statement that the two are- in fact- an engaged couple.

Ling Yizhou convinces Xia Lin to play fiancee for a period of one year, after which they can go their separate ways. To save face in front of her fans, Xia Lin agrees. She gradually begins to fall for the lovable and doting Ling Yizhou.

Someone works in the shadows to destroy everything Ling Yizhou holds dear- and the closer he gets to the heart of the conspiracy, the more he realizes Xia Lin may have a target on her back as well.

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What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim

Language: Korean

Can you be so self-absorbed that you have no idea what’s truly going on around you? Yeong Joon is Vice President of his family-owned company, Yoomyung Group. He is so narcissistic that he doesn’t pay attention to what his trusty secretary Kim Mi So is trying to tell him most of the time.

After nine years of making Yeong Joon look good and stroking his very large ego, Mi So decides to quit her job, citing a desire for a life outside of work and the chance to fall in love. Yeong Joon does not take the disruption of his routine well, and decides the only logical course of action is to make Mi So fall in love with him, thus guaranteeing she will stay by his side.

A dark secret from Yeong Joon’s past may hold the key to why he can’t let her go, but will Mi So stick around long enough to discover the truth?

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[spookyold-saintjm]

Promises

Mandalorian x female reader

Part 16 of the Pilot series [Masterlist]

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex & sexual situations (non-explicit), canon-typical violence/death, angst. Din might break your heart in this one and I’m apologizing in advance.

a/n: Hope everyone is doing as well as you can right now! Some of you might have seen a post on uh...how this one was originally going to start BUT I had a different string of ideas so we’ll hold off on THAT for another time ;) Anyway, this one is pretty damn sad ngl. I will try to make it up with something soft next chapter. 

Also, @magichandthing​ (who seems lovely!) made this amazing and beautifully SAD art that showed up on my dash while I was writing this chapter and it was just...too on point, so I feel like it was a sign to share it. Love you all so much! x

—

Din had offered his bed to you in the past, more than once, knowing you’d be more comfortable there. Through quiet, staggered insistence, he’d claimed that he didn’t sleep much, anyways. The bunk in his quarters was, admittedly, not much better than the cot where you typically rested your head, but it was a bit bigger and at least had an actual layer of intended comfort instead of simply a flat surface extended from the wall of the Crest.

You’d always refused out of respect for allowing him a true space of secluded privacy with the small confines of the ship, a space you never intruded upon. After a while he had stopped asking, seemingly resigned to your stubbornness on the matter.

However, if the offer had meant he would be joining you, your bodies bare and flush against each other in a hazy tangle of limbs, with the sounds of months of pent-up emotion and longing emerging and echoing off the walls for far longer than perhaps either of you had intended…you might have agreed a bit sooner.

Despite this, you’d still meant to silently retreat back to your bunk once you were both were wholly spent and your eyes fought to stay open in the darkness. That was how this sort of thing had always worked before…not that anything had ever been even remotely comparable to this.  

But Din, although he hadn’t moved for some time, had pulled you back onto him in one swift, sudden motion as you were halfway standing.

“Don’t,” he mumbled, contented exhaustion somewhere between the realm of sleep and waking layering over his deep voice against your ear.

You’d been taken aback at first by his request, momentarily frozen in place, but a calm warmth spread through you as you found yourself folding into him. It was the last word spoken before you both fell victim to the beckoning slumber.

A few hours later, you awoke to the sound of life elsewhere in the ship: a low voice between some occasional soft thuds and clinks, and perhaps a faint squealing sound that had you reaching out an arm beside you.

“Din?” You asked through the hoarse voice of someone fresh to the day. You kept your eyes closed as you turned and felt for him, but you found the opposite side of the bed, his bed, cool and empty. “The kid…”

You called his name out again, waiting for a response before you were so much as tempted to open your eyes. When you were still greeted with only silence, you rubbed at your eyes before finally blinking them open, squinting at the adjustment of the dim light in the room.

It was…strange to wake up here. Especially with Din nowhere in sight. You hadn’t expected to lazily wake to a soft morning wrapped in his arms, by any means, and you understood the level of trust it took for him to leave you by yourself in his space...but you couldn’t help but feel the drop in your stomach at the fact that you were alone. Though you wondered why; this was how this normally went, wasn’t it? Waking up on your own.

No…this didn’t seem like that. Din wasn’t like that. Or, perhaps he was; you’d been fooled by people before. As far as you had seen, outside of his covert, Cara, and Karga out of necessity, he didn’t seem to have any notable relationships with others.

Except for you. Technically he was your employer, you supposed…but that had never seemed right to say. Come to think of it, you’d never considered him as even a friend. He was just always…Mando. Then Din. Someone who’d arrived in your world, who you had spent months of your life with in closer contact than you’d ever spent with anyone for such a length of time, taking jobs and repairing and upgrading the ship and trying to find a way to get a small, peculiar and very much sought-after child back home. Din was someone whose presence felt like it was meant to just exist alongside your own.

It was a dangerous thought. And the idea of it continued to chip away at the walls you’d tried so hard to keep held up inside your chest, its persistence only growing with every passing time that you caught each other’s pondering, longing stares.

You felt your skin prickling with the distinctive sense that someone was watching you, and turned to see Din standing in the doorway, fully dressed in Mandalorian armor.

Minus his cape, which was draped over your otherwise bare body. The texture of it between your fingers gave you pause as you made the silent discovery; he must have covered you with it at some point in the night, as the thin sheet over his bad was instead carelessly bunched up halfway under you.

“Hi,” you said simply as you propped yourself up on an elbow, not knowing what else to say as his gaze then gripped yours, your skin suddenly warm as he looked back at you.

Din felt as if he were pinned in place. “Hey.”

You blinked softly back up at him, and it suddenly struck him that he’d been staring. Because you were…there. Like that.

He started to turn away. “I should—”

“No.” You stopped him, but you cursed yourself at the extra hint of urgency tacked onto your voice. Din must have noticed it too, because his head was cocked ever so slightly to one side when he glanced back in your direction.

“It’s okay,” you quickly added to clarify. You stretched your legs out along the bunk as you rose into a seated position, taking his cape up along with you and holding it with one arm across your chest. “What is it?”

Din’s turned back to face you, taking a few steps further into the room. You swung your legs around so that they were draped off the side of the bunk by the time he stood closer to you. 

His shoulders visibly tensed, “Are you...” A rare hesitation wrapped itself tight around his voice, his words sticking in his throat as the air circulating through his helmet grew impossibly hot. “Did—did I…?” 

You shook your head and answered before he could finish, with a gentle smile in mercy to his pained attempt to ask you if were okay. So he, too, wasn’t used to people who stayed. Who wanted him to stay. “I’m fine.” 

Although when you’d sat up, you’d definitely felt the pressure of light bruises kneaded into your hips, and Maker only knew what attempting to walk would be like. But those were details you chose to kept silent. 

Din nodded once, the action appearing almost too formal. A beat of silence passed between you, another moment’s hesitation as he fought to shift his thoughts from being flooded over with how you looked in that moment: hair untamed, a softly glowing face and slightly tired but calm eyes that blinked back at him with a quiet patience as you waited for him to say whatever he’d originally come into the room to tell you.

“Cara agreed to take the child today,” he stated.

You you turned your head back to one side, slightly narrowing your eyebrows at him. “Why?” 

“…I don’t think it’s a good idea to take him with us.”

“Take him wh—oh.” You fell silent when you realized what he meant.

He wanted you to come with him, then. To the covert’s hiding place. Well, where it had been. He’d said the night before that he wanted to see it one last time…and now he wanted you with him.

You breathed out a small sigh as you studied him while he stood across the room from you, hands at his sides, knowing he wasn’t entirely meeting your eyes in that moment. 

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Din slowly tipped his head. “Only if you want to.”

You swallowed, your voice tight when you answered him. “Of course.”

Before either of you could say more, the sound of a loud clang followed by a series of quick, shrill chirps met your ears. You quickly stood, pulling Din’s cape tighter around you and took a few instinctive steps toward the door as another crashing sound echoed through the ship.

Din sighed, his head turned toward the direction of all the noise. “I guess he’s finished eating.”

You smiled then at the tired fondness in his tone; the thought of the child seemed to make the space around you both pleasantly warm.

A final, lingering glance passed between you, and that warmth threatened to transform into a dull heat just before Din was suddenly off investigate what the child had gotten into.

You stood looking through the doorway until he was out of sight, and a moment longer after that, biting on your bottom lip as you attempted to sift through the thoughts running through nearly every direction in your mind.

The way Din had made an effort not to get too close to you, how he had seemingly avoided your eyes when he spoke…it was a deliberate distance, a blinding contrast to how things had been just hours before, when you’d both practically begged to be as close to each other as possible under the cover of darkness.

Things were different in the daylight. They always were. But you were no longer certain whether to be thankful for it or dispirited by it.

— 

After you’d gotten ready for the day, you idly worked on a small project at the space in the corner of the lower deck you’d long ago set aside to stash materials and parts for repairs and upgrades for the Crest. Despite the fact that the child had already eaten breakfast, his ever-growing appetite meant he was still hungry, and you were splitting with him the last of a container of fresh berries, originally meant just for you, as you worked. He reached to curiously pick up a spare part that rested by your knee, but you were quick to snatch it away.

“No way, sticky-hands,” you said, not taking your eyes off your work. The child just giggled, probably because he knew you were right; he couldn’t resist squishing what seemed like nearly every other berry between his hands before eating whatever remained off his tiny claws. 

However, when his giggling shifted into a low hum, a sound that typically meant he wanted your attention for something more important, you were quick to shift away from the parts rested in your lap to look down at him as he sat at your side.

You met his eyes. Yes?

He slowly turned his head, looking over toward the closed hatch of the ship. Where Din had disappeared out of a short while before. When he looked back to you, he blinked once, twice, his head tilted to one side. A question.

Din hadn’t said much of anything to you since you’d first spoken that morning, and while it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to be so quiet, you couldn’t help but wish he would just say something. The lines between you were blurred now, a looming uncertainty over what all that had happened the night before even meant, if anything.

How the hell the child had at least some hint of something being amiss between you, you had no idea. You never understood how he always seemed to know much more than you would have expected. But your unique way of communication with each other had taken a sudden turn in that exact direction.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You replied with a short shake of your head. You turned back to your work, not sure if you wanted to see what his eyes would tell you. But you could hear it, could feel it when he tried to press further. And that might have been worse, because the question he asked was weighted with far more than you’d thought the child might have even been capable of understanding. 

“I—I think he’s...great.” You answered, trying to keep your voice level and the warmth away from your cheeks. “I still like being here.” Understatements, almost to the point of lies. 

The child made a couple quiet chirps, commanding your eyes on him again. His ears flicked up, then down again as his lips pursed slightly out at you. It was enough to make you chuckle under your breath as you reached to scratch the top of his fuzzy head.

“Yes. I still like you too, you nosy thing,” you sighed, moving then to pet behind one of his long ears before you teasingly, lightly pinched its pointed tip. “I know you're going to use this against me later somehow.”

The child’s toothy grin and squinted eyes back at you was a horrible attempt of displaying innocence, and it made you roll your eyes in the midst of your quiet laughter.

Din returned a short while later, following behind Cara after letting her inside the ship. She took a moment to walk around, making small nods of approval as she took in the changes that had occurred since she’d last been inside. 

“Gotta hand it to you,” she looked over to where you still sat in the floor, now cleaning the sticky blues and purples of berry juice off the child’s face and hands, “You’ve got this place looking pretty damn good.” 

A smile twitched on the corner of your lips as you shrugged in teasing dismissal. “It’s my job, y’know?” 

You could feel Din’s eyes on you, now standing behind Cara. You glanced over to him, your smile remaining as a form of silent greeting. He didn’t budge. 

Instead, he simply watched as the child fidgeted in your arms, until you finally finished wiping him down and set him loose. He immediately toddled toward Cara, babbling up at her until she eventually sighed and bent down to pick him up. She kept him a few inches away from her body at first, holding him out as he continued to coo at her, until finally he reached out to grab at the long side of her hair and she had no choice but to tuck him into her opposite site, clearly holding back a laugh.

But Din was far more focused on you, this time. He hadn’t wanted to look away from you at all, hadn’t wanted to leave what he’d woken up to. But he’d realized that morning that the very thing you’d both confessed to wanting, had acted on the night before…it left too thin of a barrier between you. It was something he didn’t know how to navigate. Because it hadn’t been just anyone. It had been you.

You weren’t someone who just…left. Or someone who would transform him into a dark shadow of himself that he didn’t recognize, only then to leave him behind. He’d faced that before, and that wasn’t you. He wanted to believe that. Did believe it, didn’t care if it was against his better judgement. 

He never dared to show fear, but he was afraid. Afraid of what crossing the barrier that still lingered between you would mean, because he couldn’t keep his promise to protect you if it disappeared. The same as how he couldn’t claim the child as entirely as his own, at least not until he knew for sure that there was nowhere else better, safer in the galaxy for him to go.

Because the people closest to him were always the first to lose their lives.

And allowing that to happen would be the absolute last thing he would ever do.

— 

The heat of the early afternoon had made the tunnels hot and layered with a touch of humidity that hit you almost instantly as you entered and followed behind Din down the curving staircase, Cara and the child left behind at her home just outside of town. 

Din stopped after dropping from the final step, and the soft thud of your boots made a small echo as you stepped down beside him.

The tunnels were an intricate maze, the long halls and curving turns for the most part appearing to look near identical to one another as you’d learned the first time you’d been inside them, after Moff Gideon’s attack. 

Yet you knew Din had the layout memorized, was perhaps running through it in his head as he decided where to go first. When he moved, you followed a step behind, silence looming in the space between you as he led the way.

The last time Din had been here, he was injured, lightheaded and weak from what had so far been his closest encounter with death. He’d pleaded with Cara, with Karga and the droid and with you, to leave him behind. To let him go.

Yet, he was still here. 

As he looked around the dull, empty halls, hardly a sign of the life that once existed among them, a near-silent but persistent voice digging into the back of his mind wanted to ask him why. 

And, as always, he was quick to push it back.

Din was unreadable as you followed behind him, like whatever door had been opened just enough for you to feel even a hint of his emotions the night before had been completely shut and locked tight. He said nothing, didn’t so much as look back in your direction as you, too, surveyed the scene around you.  

The occasional few belongings, blasters, scraps of metal, bags, capes, even a few books lingered in scattered places along the way, into small rooms and side-tunnels. Some spaces Din walked by with only a glance and others his steps slowed, lingering but never completely stopping. You had questions, of course. Plenty of them. But you would wait for Din to explain, if he decided to.

You hadn’t been paying much attention the last time you’d been there, focused on little else beyond getting out and getting to safety. But now you had an opportunity to truly look around at what had for quite some time been Din’s home, at least as far as you understood it. You had gathered that perhaps he wasn’t there too terribly often, as he was often away on various jobs, but regardless it was the place he always came back to. It struck you then, the trust Din had in you to bring you here, to show you something so intimate and quietly, deeply tucked tight into his heart. This had been his one true and hidden safe space in the midst of an unforgiving galaxy. 

But now, it was only a shell of a life, of many lives, that had once existed there. The entire place felt hollow. Haunted. Just how the Empire had always left everywhere and everything they touched.

The thought made your chest ache.

Eventually you reached a sharp curve at the end of the hall, and Din paused for the first time since you’d begun your venture below. He stared straight ahead, and you could just barely see the rise and fall of his chest as his breaths seemed to grow longer, heavier. Whatever was around the corner must have been something he felt the need to prepare himself for.

You reached for him slowly, turning in toward him and laying a hand lightly against his arm. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to fill the space with your voice in a place where it didn’t belong.

He looked down at you, a silent expression of appreciation at your gesture, before he began to walk again. You dropped your hand and followed him at his side, around the corner and into an open, circular room.

There were a few steps leading down into the rooms entrance, thus making the ceiling higher in the wide space. Lining the edge of the room were carefully spaced standing torches. A symbol that you immediately recognized was the same one that the child now wore around his neck on a string tucked beneath his robes was, though very much faded, painted in white in the center of the space. Otherwise, like everywhere else, the room was dim and mostly bare. It was clear that this was a place that had been designated for something special, something important to the people who had lived here, and you chose to remain at the foot of the steps as Din moved further inside.

It was the only room that displayed a blatant evidence of the covert's presence in the maze beneath the town, a room that taught and commanded the utmost respect for Mandalorian culture. It was the space devoted to foundlings—their education, their eventual acceptance and integration into the covert, into the Creed...and the training that followed. It was a place of ceremony, of blood, sweat, and tears, of hardship and pride. And one that Din might have found himself venturing into more often than he realized when he would return from his various jobs throughout the system.

The girl’s face brightened, even through her tears, as she saw Din standing at the foot of the steps. He’d heard a strange noise echoing from the space, though it should have been empty at that time of day, and had gone to investigate. The young girl had been crouched on the ground, knees tucked in tight as soft sobs tumbled from her chest.

She stood and practically sprinted over to Din, her tears flowing freely again.

He had come to recognize each one of the foundlings individually, as everyone in the covert was highly encouraged to do so, although he knew none of their names. It was a closeness he did not afford himself with them. With much anyone, really.

Din had crouched down to her level before she reached him, her green eyes blurred with pink from crying, and dark brown hair falling out of the tiny, yet messy knot atop her head. She couldn’t bring herself meet his stare through the visor, and instead kept her head down and focused on an insignificant spot on the ground.

For some reason wholly unknown to him, the foundlings adored him. They were always practically nipping at his heels when he returned to the covert, asking various questions about his most recent job or his life, or floating off into stories of things they had accomplished while he had been away. Maybe it was because he was one who they all knew as one who worked so hard to provide for them, maybe it was because they knew they could fluster him fairly easily because he didn’t know how to deal with them and they loved to give him a hard time every now and then. Or maybe, it was because he listened far more than he spoke, and they knew they could tell him whatever they wanted or needed to say.

So, as always, Din waited for the foundling girl to speak first.

“I cannot do it,” she mumbled, her voice thick with the accent of her people from whom she had been raised the first few years of her life before she’d ended up with the covert not too long before that afternoon. “Everyone is better than me. I lost every round today.”

Din waited a moment, to see if she would say more, and simultaneously tried to quickly sort his thoughts into something that might help. Crying wasn’t something he dealt with particularly well.

He noticed a row of small, fresh scrapes against the girl’s knuckles as she rubbed her hands together, and when she had failed to say anything else, Din gently gestured to them. “Looks like you tried really hard.”

The girl’s nods were quick as she subconsciously reached to rub at her knees. “Yes. But I fell. A lot.”

He paused to consider her words. “Did you get back up?”

Another sniffle and a wipe across her nose with an arm. “Uh-huh.”

“Then you can keep trying.”

He never knew if the words he spoke to them would ever really mean anything, but the girl finally looked up to him, her puffy eyes softening in what seemed to be understanding as she nodded again and began to wipe her tears with the backs of her hands.

Din gave her a firm, but assuring nod.

“This is the Way.” He said to her, both as an encouragement and what he hoped would be a dismissal once he was standing again.

The girl straightened, setting her shoulders back as she returned his nod. “This is the Way.”

Before Din could even process what was happening, the girl had wrapped her arms tight for around his leg in a flash of a moment, then pulled away before running off behind him to presumably reunite with the other foundlings he’d seen rushing through the adjacent tunnel just a few minutes before.

He sighed when he turned around and saw that, as had happened many times before, the small ribbon of fabric holding up her hair had fallen loose from her head and fluttered to the ground.

A ribbon that he was staring at now, as it brushed against the tip of his boot near the center of the room.

The foundlings.

Oh, gods. The foundlings.

Din dropped to his knees.

The clang of the beskar and various gear he wore on his legs sharply echoed through the chamber. You were paralyzed at first, scanning over him from where you stood with his back to you for any sign that he was somehow hurt.

Then you saw it; the subtle upward jerk that traveled through his back and up to his slouched shoulders.

A silent sob.

You went to him then, dropping down onto your knees next to him without a second thought. 

Aside from the brief moments of panic he’d displayed just before you’d escaped down into these tunnels months before, you had never seen Din show any sign of strong emotion beyond his occasional temper toward a bounty. Not joy, definitely not sadness. You weren’t even sure if he had the capacity for it.

Yet here he was, his hands curled into fists as they rested on this thighs, his head tilted down deep. You could just barely hear the trembling in his breath as he sucked in a gasp of air, and the short, tight huff that followed.

You remained silent, though you couldn’t resist the overwhelming need to reach for him, to take one of his hands, softly holding the tight clench of his fingers between both of your palms. You felt his fist tighten beneath your touch. Although you knew that maybe you should have waited, should have allowed him to let out his pain alone…the pull that came from somewhere deep inside you, furiously drawing you to him, had been far too great for you to ignore.

He breathed in deep again, his exhale shaky. You looked to him as he finally spoke.

“They’re gone.”

His voice sucked the air from your own lungs; you’d never heard anything so broken.

In that moment, Din was truly processing all of this for the first time. You imagined that the sight of beskar armor and helmets carelessly heaped in a pile on your journey here before would have been enough to cut deep in him, and while you were certain it had…Din was very much the type to lock things away. To let his emotions have a brief, silent moment and then immediately store them somewhere else. The thought of the loss of his covert had to have crossed his mind, time and time again during your travels, but his strict discipline kept any semblance of mourning over it at bay. It was now that the dam had finally broken, that the full weight of the loss crashed down around him, leaving you helpless to watch and wait for its end alongside him.

You wouldn’t tell him it was okay. Because it wasn’t. You knew better than most anyone else that it wasn’t okay, and there was nothing you could do to remedy it except to remain beside him. 

The door that he had shut tight within him had flown open, and you could feel the heaviness of the loss, the anger and the sorrow that pulsed in him, around him, your hands over his connecting you to his feelings on an even greater level than you’d ever experienced before. Never, never had you been able to feel anyone’s pain in this way, had never felt anyone else's emotions in this way at all. Your lungs constricted, and against your will tears had formed and settled in your own eyes.

“It’s my fault.” Din’s words broke through in a voice hardly over a whisper. “I did this.”

Guilt. The guilt was what you felt the most, what wrapped itself around him the hardest. You could sense that it had lingered somewhere dark and hidden for a long time, far before the time you had known him, and it only crept out in rare moments such as the night before. But now, now it was free and threatening to eat him alive.

“It’s—” you started, but had to swallow down the tightness in your throat before you could say more. “It’s not your fault, Din.”

Another near-silent gasp.  “You don’t—” he breathed out a short, wet sigh. “Every home I’ve had, everyone…they’re all gone. And I couldn’t stop any of it.”

So it was more than the covert. You knew enough of how Din had lost his first home, and his parents; bits and pieces of the story had slowly emerged during quiet moments in hyperspace, at night once the child had fallen asleep while you disassembled and cleaned weapons. You knew that his home as a young foundling has also been attacked and destroyed, which had eventually led to the covert’s home in the tunnels beneath Nevarro, where they had remained safe and hidden for years upon years following.

Until Moff Gideon’s return. Until even this home was taken from Din, too.

“You were a child,” you said softly, slipping one of your hands away from his. You let it hover over his back, considering before you finally settled to gently rest your palm flat against the space just below his shoulder. Din didn’t stiffen, didn’t pull away, but simply allowed your touch to remain. “And this…there’s no way you could have known. None of that is your fault.”  

He slowly lifted his head to face you. It was one of fleeting the moments in which you greedily wished you could see his eyes, just for a second. So you could read them, you could meet them without a barrier and speak directly through them all the things that your mouth wouldn’t allow you to say.

Din felt everything and nothing all at once. Anger at himself, not only for letting these things happen, but for letting someone see him in a state like this, weakness that he’d never dared reveal to anyone since he’d sworn the Creed. Sorrow for the realization that, even if some of the covert had by some miracle managed to escape, so many, so many had still been lost. And he had no way of even beginning to find whoever might remain. If they remained. Helplessness, because even though he told himself he’d never, ever let it show that it was something that affected him in even the slightest, he was alone.

But when he finally looked at you…it made things different. Because he wasn’t alone on this course he’d suddenly been set on just a few months before. And the blinding fear that he would be hopeless to stop something from happening to you or the child was threatening to tear him apart right in front of you. What good was a promise that he would protect you both if he wasn’t capable of fulfilling it?

“Talk to me,” you finally whispered, curling your fingers tighter in reassurance over his hand. It was almost desperation, but you needed to hear him say something. Had to capture even a fragment of an idea of what he was thinking.

You caught the slightest shake of his head before he spoke. “You, and the kid, you’re all I…” He took a near-shuddering breath. “If something happens to him, to you…I shouldn’t have asked you to stay.” 

The last words gave you pause. You knew that Din would give his life without question for the child if it came down to it. But for him to even think to care about you in such a way that it would hurt him so much to lose you…

It was the very same way you felt about him.

Any other doubts, any words yet to be spoken or anything else between you were either proved wrong or simply didn’t matter in that moment. Not any more.

You moved, turning so that your knees nearly touched, and you could look at him face-to-face. Or at least, as close as you could get to it. You reached for his other hand, encouraging him to separate his fists and instead wrap his fingers around yours. 

“I told you before, I’m not going anywhere. I made that choice for myself.” You blinked away the tears that again threaten to blur your vision. “I’m going to see this out with you. We’re going to get him home. And if we don’t…then, it’s like you said. We’ll figure something else out.”  

You forced a small smile. “Besides, the credits you owe me for all this work are really starting to stack up.”

Din breathed a huff of a weak laugh, in utter disbelief at you. At what his life had become. 

There were more words to be said, questions to be asked. They lingered just beneath the surface and begged to be spoken, to be made real. But it wasn’t the time for them. Not yet.

You sat for a moment, looking to each other in silence. You slowly felt the heaviness of the room lift, until Din breathed out a sigh, no longer struggling for air.

“We should keep going. I want to make sure nothing important was left behind.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. While the pain you had felt from him didn’t vanish, it seemed to lighten then, to tuck itself away into a space where it could reside a bit more peacefully. You hoped that would remain true.

You were alone in the world, had been for some time. And while you knew deep down that you probably shouldn’t allow yourself to feel it, being with Din and the child had maybe made things a little less lonely. At least for now, taking care of the child and ensuring his safety bound the two of you together. Once that was gone, once Din had fulfilled his duty of reuniting him with his people...not only would you be alone, but so would he.

You silently made a promise to yourself then, too, unbeknownst to the Mandalorian who knelt across from you in that moment. A promise that, whatever it meant when the time came, you wouldn’t let him be alone. You wouldn’t leave him until you knew he wouldn’t have to feel that pain again. Even, if he wanted, that meant that you didn’t leave at all.

Din slowly rose to his feet. You followed behind, one of his hands still wrapped around yours as he helped you from the ground.

And as you made your way out of the room, he didn’t let go.

—

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Movie Review | Mulholland Drive (Lynch, 2001)

This review contains spoilers.

David Lynch's Mulholland Drive was released in recent years by the Criterion Collection, that great home video company that's probably the OG of boutique labels, known for putting out acclaimed, significant or otherwise interesting films in really nice packages. (For some reason I had been thinking they put this out only last year until I actually looked it up. I guess my sense of time has been a little warped as of late, and as much as I'd like to tie this review into pandemic-era life, the fact is other labels have captured my attention lately, as can be evidenced by my embarrassingly large and extremely shameful Vinegar Syndrome haul from their Halfway to Black Friday sale from a few months ago.) Now, nobody in 2021 is going into this movie truly blind, but if I happened to pick up the Criterion cover and perused the back, aside from the list of special features and disc specs, you'd see the below (which I grabbed off their website):

Blonde Betty Elms (Naomi Watts) has only just arrived in Hollywood to become a movie star when she meets an enigmatic brunette with amnesia (Laura Harring). Meanwhile, as the two set off to solve the second woman’s identity, filmmaker Adam Kesher (Justin Theroux) runs into ominous trouble while casting his latest project. David Lynch’s seductive and scary vision of Los Angeles’s dream factory is one of the true masterpieces of the new millennium, a tale of love, jealousy, and revenge like no other.

Now, this is a tough movie to evoke with only a blurb, but I'd say that does a pretty respectable job. I however do not own this release. What I do own is the barebones Universal DVD that was released a few months after the movie, back when going into the movie blind would have been far more likely. This is the description on the back:

This sexy thriller has been acclaimed as one of the year's best films. Two beautiful women are caught up in a lethally twisted mystery - and ensnared in an equally dangerous web of erotic passion. "There's nothing like this baby anywhere! This sinful pleasure is a fresh triumph for Lynch, and one of the best films of the year. Visionary daring, swooning eroticism and colors that pop like a whore's lip gloss!" says Rolling Stone's Peter Travers. "See it… then see it again!" (Time Out New York)

Now, the previous description probably couldn't fully capture the movie's essence, but this one makes it sound like an erotic thriller. (Could you imagine somebody going into this thinking this was like a Gregory Dark joint? I say this having seen none of his thrillers and only his hardcore movies, although I must admit an MTV-influenced Mulholland Drive starring, say, Lois Ayres is something I find extremely intriguing.) But you know what? Good for them. Among other things, this movie, with its two all-timer sex scenes, feels like one of the last hurrahs from an era when mainstream American movies could be unabashedly horny, before we were sentenced to an endless barrage of immaculately muscular bodies in spandex (stupid sexy Flanders) somehow drained of all sex appeal (god forbid somebody pop a boner...or ladyboner, let's be egalitarian here). I apologize if I'm coming off as a little gross, but having been able to barely leave the house for practically a year and a half, watching sexy movies like this is one of the few remaining thrills at my disposal. Please, this is all I have.

Now I suppose I should say something about the movie itself, but it might be a challenge given how elusive it is in certain respects (Lynch is notoriously cagey about offering interpretations of his movies) and, as a result, how heavily it's been scrutinized over the years. No doubt any analysis I offer as to the movie's overarching meaning will come off extremely dumbassed. What I will note however, is that for whatever reason, the scene I remembered most vividly is where Justin Theroux walks in on his wife with Billy Ray Cyrus, particularly the candy pink paint he dumps on her jewellery as revenge. We've been following Theroux, a movie director, as he's been having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, having had control over casting his lead actress taken from him, which he proceeds to process by taking a golf club to a windshield of his producers' car and then reacting as above when he finds his wife with the singer of "Achy Breaky Heart".

With his Dune having been notoriously tampered with by producers, I suspect there's a bit of Lynch's own experience in the scene with the producers, which plays like an entirely arbitrary set of rituals deciding the fate of his movie with no regard for his opinion or even basic logic. While I don't know how particular Dino DeLaurentiis was about his espresso, I did laugh. Now, taking the reading that the first two acts of the movie are a fantasy of Naomi Watts' character, who is revealed to be miserable and ridden with jealousy in the third act, the amount of time we spend with Theroux is maybe hard to justify. Is this perhaps her "revenge" on him, his romantic and professional success having been flushed away while he flounders in search of greater meaning to his arc? Aside from possible autobiographical interest, these scenes do play like a riff on the idea that everyone is the main character in their own story, and if the Watts and Laura Harring characters can be thought of as having merged or swap identities, then perhaps Theroux's arc is the remainder of that quotient. (Now, it's worth noting that aside from being insecure and arrogant, Theroux in this movie is a less stylish than the real Lynch. If Watts conjures the best version of herself in her dream, Lynch maybe doesn't want his dream avatar outshining him.)

Now why did the Cyrus scene stick with me all these years when other details had slipped? Mostly because I'd found it amusing, partly because of the extra specific image Lynch produces, and somewhat because of the casting of Billy Ray Cyrus. Now, I don't have any special relationship to the Cyrus' body of work, but Lynch's casting of him, with his distinct mix of bozo, dudebro and hunk, results in a very specific comedic effect. This is something Lynch does elsewhere in the movie, like when he has Robert Forster show up as a detective for a single scene. The Forster role is likely in part a leftover from the movie's origins as a TV pilot, but the effect is similar (albeit less comedic). Melissa George appears as a woman who may or may not be a replacement for Watts in some realm of reality. Other directors obviously cast actors for their screen presence and the audience's relationship to their career, but the way Lynch does it feels particularly pointed, as if he's reshaping them entirely into iconography. The effect is particularly sinister with the presence of Michael J. Anderson, with whom he worked previously on Twin Peaks, and Monty Montgomery as a mysterious cowboy who dangles the secret of the movie over Theroux's character.

Cowboys in movies are frequently heroic presences (see any number of westerns) and are otherwise innocuously stylish (I confess I've come dangerously close to ordering a Stetson hat and a pair of cowboy boots), but the presence of one here feels like a ripple in the movie's reality. A dreamy, brightly lit mystery set in Los Angeles should have no place for a cowboy. It ain't right. (It's worth noting that Lynch at one point copped to admiring Ronald Reagan for reminding him of a cowboy. Is this his expression of a changed opinion? I have no idea, but Lynch has never struck me as all that politically minded.) Neither is the hobo that appears behind the diner. Certainly hobos have made their homes behind diners, but this one's presence and the way Lynch produces him feel again like a ripple in the the movie's narrative. Jump scares are frequently knocked for being lazy and cheap devices to generate shocks, but the one here gets under your skin.

Now about the movie's look. This starts off like a noir, and the mystery plot on paper would lead you to think that's how the whole movie plays, but the cinematography is a lot brighter, with almost confection-like colours, than that would lead you to believe, at least during the daytime scenes. This is another element that likely comes from its TV origins, but it does give the movie a distinctly dreamlike, fantastical quality that a more overtly cinematic look, like the one Lynch used in Lost Highway a few years earlier, might not capture. This is one of the reasons I think this movie works better than that one, and there's also the fact that the amateur sleuthing that drives the bulk of the plot here serves as a more pleasing audience vantage point than the male anxieties that fuel the other film. I also would much rather hang out with Naomi Watts and Laura Harring than a charisma void like Balthazar Getty.

The manufactured warmth of the daytime scenes also results, like in Blue Velvet, in the nighttime scenes feeling like they're in a completely different setting, one which perhaps offers the key to unlocking the mystery, or at least revealing the phoniness of the movie's surfaces. I think of the evocative Club Silencio sequence, which comes as close as anything in the movie to laying its illusions bare. ("No hay banda.") But at times Lynch will throw in disarmingly childlike, inexplicable imagery, like the dancing couples against a purple screen in the opening, something that would seem tacky and amateurish elsewhere but feels oddly cohesive here. There are a number of directors whose work I admire for being "dreamlike", and putting them side by side they all feel quite distinct (you would never mistake a Lucio Fulci film for a Lynch), but they have the unifying idea of imbuing the tactile qualities of film with the truly irrational to really burrow into your subconscious. Other directors have made movies with some of the same elements as Mulholland Drive, but none have put them together in quite the same way.

[magpiemorality]

:p Fluff of dark/light bonding.

AO3

***

In the weeks that followed Thomas’s decree that they were going to be making amends and becoming a proper family, several things happened. 

Firstly; the mindscape drastically rearranged itself one night, which led to a very confusing morning wake up when walls were where doors should be and doors didn’t lead to the hallways they should have. Instead of the living room realms of each side there was a new layout; the living room had the stairs up to the bathroom and two bedrooms and there were four doors all leading off the living room instead. It was alarming but a distinct improvement and while no one claimed credit Thomas did look distinctly smug when they mentioned it next. 

Secondly; dinnertime was reinstated as a communal affair. The table was twice as big and the kitchen was always bustling. It turned out that Remus had quite the flair for inventive cooking and was a big fan of Heston Blumenthal, and with some careful supervision from Patton and occasionally Deceit could be guided into making exquisite large curries or salads with fun combinations of flavours. It was designated a time of zero conflict, no matter the situation of the day, which had actually ended up resulting in the end of a lot of conflict. It was hard to keep an argument going over enjoying a good meal and Patton had a knack for seating people next to whoever they wanted to least. It always ended well. 

Thirdly; the bonding started. It was slow and tentative, but setting aside some of the harder bridges to rebuild there were some new friends to be made. Thomas had once jokingly threatened to get his therapist character involved to help them out, which had led to a really interesting discussion when Emile promptly appeared out of nowhere, thoroughly confused and apparently halfway through a coffee date. That had led to an even more interesting conversation when Remy had appeared in search of his vanished boo, but all in all the sides had decided they were going to try on their own first, and they did a fairly good job. 

It slowly became normal to find Patton and Remus chatting over some colour at the table during slow afternoons, or Logan and Deceit sharing coffee in the mornings and very evenly discussing some new philosophical argument. Roman took a little longer to into the swing of things, hesitantly inviting Remus to the Imagination and then ending up in a long-running Mariokart tournament with him that had scores sitting in the hundreds within a month. Virgil also struggled. He tried, but he’d not just burned his bridges- he’d scattered the ashes and dumped concrete walls up where the banks had been. But they were still healing, and he would occasionally let Remus cuddle him during move nights, petting the other side’s hair absently and had once been found napping, covered in Deceit’s cloak. 

It was a work in progress, their messy family, but there was progress. And for Thomas they would never stop trying. 

[mimiplaysgames]

save it for the morning after, pt. 2

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 7,384

Summary: Terra learns to trust his body to another.

Read on AO3

A/N: HAPPY TERRAQUA DAY!!! I posted what would’ve been a one-shot last year... then came the messages asking me to expand on that. Considering what kind of writer I am, I don’t know if y’all understood what you asked for: I pick on Terra savagely - it’s dangerous to be my favorite. This piece goes to @lyssala who requested a piece that featured Character C interrupting Characters A and B during moments when they wanted to be alone, when I wanted to celebrate 100 followers on Twitter! I had to split this chapter in two cuz it got too long, so CONGRATS. You get two gifts. <33

~*~*~*~*~

Waking up is a nightmare.

Terra doesn’t remember his dream when he opens his eyes - only the sensation that he’s about to stare into a cloaked face, grinning with sharp canines and bright yellow eyes. His jaws clench badly enough that his teeth grind. His lips feel like they have been sewn shut. He can’t move anything, not his head cemented against the pillow, not his sagging arms or legs, as though the strings he’s used to move them have been cut. 

Not again. 

He takes in oxygen with short, desperate inhales through his nostrils. His fingers claw into the bed sheets as he tries to take back control.

As pleasant as this bright sunny morning, something presses on his chest, crushing his breath.

Yet, the only thing greeting him is an off-white ceiling.

Falling asleep is usually just as bad. It’s not the act of dreaming that puts him in danger - it’s the transition between consciousness and not that he fights every morning and every night. It’s the feeling of slipping out of fear that he’ll never speak again. If he didn’t have to rely on sleep to stay alive, he would just never close his eyes again. 

She shifts next to him, murmuring before quieting.

Terra thanks himself for not moaning or yelling this time. The last thing he needs is to disturb her with his fits.

Aqua rolls over, readjusting her body before nestling into her pillow. She looks so serene like this, bedsheets wrapped tightly around her hips and her breasts exposed, creamy and still.

It’s bright for an early morning - the snow outside reflects the sunlight, painting the entire room in a brilliant glow that illuminates the entire room, including just how pink her nipples really are.

She’s like a mermaid. Precious and rare, something he doesn’t deserve, and he’s the stupidest, luckiest bastard in this world, who has done absolutely nothing to have her in bed with him.

He’s more unworthy than that - he’s in her bed.

Terra lets go of the sheet finger by finger, his breath eventually losing its deathgrip over his throat and settling still, letting his muscles relax and giving his shoulders back some control. Rolling over to his side to watch her, he leans on an elbow. The butterflies in his stomach flurry worse than ever, more excitable than even last night.

Last night… Wow. He can’t believe it all happened. Lying together undressed, touching her, sharing kisses that he dreamt of for years, feeling her on his skin, being inside her, how they exchanged breaths to keep going… now she’s sleeping soundly like she’s in the safest place in the world.

She’s told him before that she has the worst trouble sleeping, but last night, she fell under quite quickly in his arms, taking a spot in the crook of his neck. He’s glad he could help her in any way.

The Realm of Darkness has done an impressive job in preserving her. While Aqua doesn’t smile like she used to, her face is still everything he remembers. Face untouched by marks or lines. Lips pillowy and hair the same color. For her, sleep is peace, very much like the way she used to look when she napped on top of her open books in the library, halfway through an anxious night studying.

She’s been given a second chance at life - they all have, let’s be honest. A rare grace that most will never see. People grow old, they separate from their loved ones, they die. Here two of them rest in a soft bed, keeping their youth, grasping at something like childhood dreams and excitement about their future - but the truth is they’ll never have it again. He’s sorry about that.

And Aqua, she does have scars even if they don’t live on her face. There are scruffs crisscrossing down her arms, two on her collarbone - mostly unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know their history. There is one, faded and white on her bicep, that he inflicted on her one nasty afternoon when he wanted to prove that his brand new Keyblade was stronger than hers.

He paid for that afternoon with a severe lecture and a fifty-page essay.

Then there are others - nastier, some braided, others like craters. One on her ribcage right under her breast that curls and splays. There’s a slash across her entire back, and he’s scared of asking where it came from.

Really scared.

Of course, he has to account for all the scars he can’t see: the ones that make her flinch at night, like Ven walking in on her unannounced, taking her by surprise.

She pays for her second chance at life in plenty of ways.

Despite it all, she’s beautiful. She has always been. And when she’s gray and cranky, she still will be.

Her nose wrinkles and she sniffs - some of her hair strands have fallen in front of her face, tickling her.

When he takes the opportunity to brush her hair - gently, gently - off of her face, Terra lingers in the feeling of silk strands as he collects them behind her ear. He’s always wanted to do this. 

Aqua hums, her arms stretching outward. Her chest arches with breath. He jerks his hand away, hoping against hope that he didn’t ruin it.

“Sorry,” he whispers, almost shushing her back to slumber.

Wiggling her eyelids open, the first thing she notices is him. Aqua smirks and immediately covers her mouth with her hand to giggle. 

So seeing him struck memories of last night for her, too.

“Good morning,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his voice is rougher than he wants. 

She brings the bed sheet up to her nose. Her cheeks are as red as a tomato. This isn’t really her usual self, Aqua has always had too much dignity for giggling. But he likes this sudden melting of her defenses - a flustered Aqua is a cute Aqua. 

“Good morning,” she says, almost like she’s about to ask what he’s doing there. Despite covering herself, her smile reaches her eyes, and every time she glances at him, she beams even more.

“Looks like you’ve slept well,” he says with a distinct flavor, like he’s witnessing a scandal.

She narrows her eyes. “What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “You’re…” Naked. I’m naked. “The proof is under the sheets.”

Aqua composes herself, lowering the sheet to her collarbone, and confidently calms her nerves, her eyes whittling away all that childlike excitement from earlier.

But he knows she knows what he’s talking about, though there’s not a hint of shame in her eyes either. She rolls over to meet him face to face.

“I did sleep well,” she says softly, inching closer, looking up at him.

Her intense blue eyes glimmer, especially in sunlight. Drinking in the sight before her, they find solace somewhere on Terra, even though he doesn’t have the capability to give it to her. 

Terra’s heart thumps and it’s the loudest thing in the room. His fingers strum the surface of the bed, so close to her face. He could tap her nose and make her laugh. Cup her cheek and let her sigh. Stroke her jaw and finally embrace her.

These are all just fantasies, but he indulges in them. Aqua’s quicker to act. She lifts her head up, closing the gap and taking his lips onto hers.

While the ones they had last night were hungry, maybe even desperate, this one is patient, feeling him slowly, taking him in different angles, exploring the sorts of ways she can invite his tongue to do more. 

She gathers her arms around his neck, pulling him as she falls back. When she skates her hands over his shoulders - his biceps and back up to his pecs - his skin electrifies, shooting goose flesh down his spine. 

Aqua lets one hand go to fuss with the sheets wrapped around her chest, letting nothing stand between his bare skin and her creamy softness. 

The contact shocks him and he has to breathe deeper, taking it in like he’s drowning. It helps him feel her all the more.

More. Everything in his twitching groin needs more.

Gripping her waist in a moment of panic - the kind where he’d never feel her again if they let go - Aqua responds by pushing with her weight, rolling him onto his back, pulling them together with her hands on his jaw, her messy kisses pulling hard on his lips (they still need to practice). 

Terra in the meantime glides his fingers up and down her back. Her scar is as long as the list of consequences that could all be traced back to his mistakes. Longer than that - as long as a trail that would lead out the bedroom.

The one under her breast splays like a mess of bare branches in the dead of winter, and he holds his palm there firmly, like he’s trying to keep them from ripping more.

How does he tell her with anything but words that he didn’t quite understand the extent of pain, of how far it could go, until he was possessed? 

Is there such a thing as a hug comforting enough or a held hand loving enough to measure that? 

His hands go to her hips, and squeeze what plumpness she has. He lets her make the decision to rock against his pelvis. Only then does he apply the pressure, make her pant against him.

Terra becomes more impatient, and he kneads her with both hands, starting with her ass before climbing up, taking notice of how her nipples harden under his palms.

The kiss breaks with her smile. 

“What?” 

Aqua is already red from the flush, but now she’s worse for wear and she’s trying to hide it. “Your hands are so big.”

“They are?” He doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Her breasts fit his palms just fine, supple and round. Letting one go, he tests the size by comparing it to her face; it covers everything, from his wrist on her chin to the fingers digging into her hairline, his palm taking up the entire space across her cheeks that he can only see dashes of her eyebrows. “They are.”

She chuckles into his hand, giving it a quick peck before caressing it. Her breath composes itself, and her smile is content. Her gaze is full of light, welcoming him in, and it makes him feel protected. Safe enough to surrender. Maybe even forgiven. She’s about to come back down, and they can continue. He can let her shine on him, let himself go and forget all about this horrible morning-

A knock on the door. “Aqua?”

Aqua sits straight up. Immediately clamps down on Terra’s mouth with her hand. 

Everything suddenly… slams to a stop, and Terra’s erection writhes, begging. 

Worst timing, Ven. 

“Y-yes?” Aqua calls.

Terra stares at her with bulging eyes. Please don’t leave me like this.

She smirks.

“Terra’s not in his room,” Ven says through the door. “And I’m hungry.”

“Okay-”

Terra bucks up against her, gnawing at her toned thigh. It makes her gasp and wrestle with a smile.

“I’ll be right out, Ven,” she says, trying so hard not to choke on a laugh. She gives Terra a sympathetic smile, and quickly, silently pecks his lips before peeling off of him and pulling him out of bed.

His sternum grows stones and they all sink to his stomach. 

Pushing him into her bathroom, she scrambles to pick up all of his items of clothing: his pants, shirt, briefs… is that everything? Yes. She throws them in a heap against his body before quietly turning the knob and closing it.

Her bathroom is chillier than the bedroom, and Terra rests his back against her closed door, grimacing.

Rustling behind him - she hurries to get dressed, calling out a You can come in, Ven, before turning her attention to her bed sheets. 

“Sorry,” she says as footsteps approach her.

Terra keeps his breath steady and inaudible - but it’s so hard. Really. He’s still ready to go, the throbbing in his groin becoming agonizing. It tingles like an interrupted sneeze - worse than that, like a desperate itch with an uncomfortable squeeze - and he pushes and stretches his shaft to make it uncomfortable, just so it would calm down. 

It doesn’t calm down. Why.

“I overslept,” Aqua continues.

Without a pause, Ven says, “So you must have really slept well, that’s great news!”

Terra swallows a groan.

Aqua rustles some more. He imagines she’s nodding, trying to find the right words. “It does feel good.”

“Do you know where Terra is?” the twerp says.

Terra will tell him where Terra is. Terra flips the shower on, only the cold knob. His erection needs it.

There’s an uncomfortable pause from the other side of the door, and Aqua has stopped making her bed.

“Is that him using your shower?” Ven asks.

“His isn’t working.” She sounds so confident.

There’s another pause - something about it, maybe the way Aqua finishes her words so trepidly, that makes the silence seem longer even though it isn’t.

“It smells weird in here,” Ven says, slowly.

“Terra is filthy,” Aqua says, like it’s the most obvious answer. “Ven, when I finish getting ready, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Terra is sure she’s probably throwing daggers with her eyes through the door and he grins at the thought. Most of his pranks are usually thought-out and have some figment of imagination, but this has to be his new favorite. 

Cold water stabs at his skin - it’s terrible enough to make him forget every mood he’s experienced since waking up. He picks up her lavender bar of soap. It smells so different than on her skin, and it invigorates all of his senses. He never thought he’d get the chance to. But here he is, in her shower, covered by a turquoise curtain and seeing how neatly her toiletries line up. 

Ven must have left by now, because Aqua knocks on the door, telling him where she’ll be… after breakfast they’ll all be outside to shovel snow from the lower windows and pathways… have a snow fight, that will be fun… and maybe she’ll see him later? There’s hope in her voice, shyness even. 

~*~*~*~*~

Outside, he can’t help but stare at the way the sun gleams off of the snow. He has to shield his eyes from the way it blinds him, and yet it makes him grin from ear to ear. 

Consider how much better it is than a decade of nothingness.

They were absolutely buried last night, but they all survived.

Snow blocks the front and back entrances of the castle, tall enough to reach Terra’s hips. The trees all sag from the weight, and the fields have hills on them now that don’t exist in the spring. 

What a chore though - his friends don’t understand what it takes out of him anymore, now that he’s back in a body he’s lost touch with for years (to the point that he used to forget he ever had one). Shoveling is a skill that demands all the power in his biceps and triceps, his shoulders, his rhomboids, all the way down to the lower back, straining to the point that it feels like a heavy ball is chained into his skin, pulling down. 

At the same time, he sweats profusely underneath all those layers, like he’s trapped in an oven, baking for two hours past the point of well-burnt. It makes him want to strip naked and run down the woods. 

If Aqua and Ven are enjoying the cold in their faces from the exposure, or finding comfort in the heat of their snug clothes… they’re lucky because they can’t compare. They don’t feel as strongly as he does.

Terra hunches over the terrace, staring at the snow gathered along the stone railing. 

He’s on fire.

Freeing his fingers from his gloves and throwing his knit hat off, Terra plants his bare hands into the snow. It stings. Then it burns in a different way, quick to sear. 

“Doesn’t that hurt, Terra?” he hears Ven ask, skipping over to him.

Terra groans. It’s too much - too much cold, too much heat, yes, even from this morning, lingering and gnawing and asking for release… But he can’t think about that or Aqua right now, it will make it worse. It’s all Ven’s fault.

“It’s actually nice,” he mutters, grabbing fistfuls, nearly wanting to plant his face into it. 

“I guess…” Ven means well. He doesn’t understand what it feels like to be a maniac (his words, not Terra’s). “Making a snowman?”

Terra continues to collect the snow into a ball - it’s massive now, definitely fit for a base.

He grins, and the sight of it strikes nervousness into his best friend.

“What are you-”

Whump.

Ven pummels backward, slammed in the face by a mound of snow. It was so large and heavy that Terra had to carry it in both hands, and it buries Ven when he lands.

Spitting snow out of his mouth, Ven’s nose is now red from the cold. “That’s not fair, we aren’t supposed to have a snowball fight yet!”

Not fair was the interruption this morning.

“Better now than never,” Terra says, lightly stomping the ground with his foot. The earth beneath layers of frozen water hears his call. It vibrates, radiating upward, and a wave of snow bursts outward and covers Ven from head to toe.

“You’re crazy!”

Ven crawls out of his frigid entrapment, and Terra prepares another massive heap. Something about this is very gratifying. He should pick on Ven more often. 

“Heads up!” Ven yells.

A tiny snowball that Ven grabbed in a second - inconsequential, honestly, in comparison to the boulder Terra has now - strikes Terra on the neck.

It’s just the thing to take the beast down.

Snow runs down his inner coat, like a million needles pricking all those sore muscles that got a beating earlier from shoveling. They tense up until they’re hard as bone. It’s cold. Shit.

Terra falls on his knees, beating his shoulder to warm it up as much as possible, but it only gives the snow momentum to scuffle into his pants.

“Aaaaaaaaand,” Ven boasts, “he’s down.”

Terra staggers, the snow burning his hip and trickling down his thigh. He manages to stay on his feet, his skin getting numb. Then he lunges forward.

Ven shrieks and laughs, taking off, running as fast as he can from big, bad Terra. He’s much faster than either of them, yet they sometimes forget. 

Terra underestimates Ven all the time, who is now disappearing into a thicket, but he doesn’t care. Running pumps blood into the right head. The wind brushes through his hair and it chills him all the more, overwhelming with the smell of fresh air, the sting of the light reverberating off of the whiteness, the unresolved frustration, the bead of sweat which has frozen itself on his forehead.

But more than the fact that Terra feels too much is that he’s tired. Sprinting can only get him so far (or so near, compared to how fit he used to be before the fall). He’s quick to lose stamina, and his foot sinks deep into a pot of loose snow. He trips, landing face first. 

It’s cold and it burns, but Terra is relieved from all other sensations just the same.

~*~*~*~*~

Now he can’t shake off the shivers.

Aqua sets a hearth ablaze in the fireplace, a haven within the library on the first floor, close to the doorway which would eventually lead to the dining room. Everything about the bottom floor is situated like a home fit for a family. It’s expansive, where all the hallways interconnect so no one can get lost. It’s where all the pleasant memories live. 

This isn’t the place where they had their first kiss, though. Nothing on the first floor can hide. 

Terra rests on the lounge chair, a massive thing that swallows anyone smaller than him in a dark forest green. It looks black now that the sun has dipped behind the mountains so early today.

It’s a deep enough color to hide all the torture that three rambunctious children have whipped on the poor thing. Terra has a faint memory of where the stains might be, but he can’t find any.

The fire isn’t enough. Terra has an ocean blue blanket to boot, wrapped around his shoulders. Aqua’s. She’s always been the neatest of the three, so he can’t imagine this would have any evidence of foul play.

The door behind him creaks and he hears soft, bare footsteps approaching him. Unlike her, sound doesn’t really make him nervous. 

But having her near him does. Always has, and maybe always will. 

“Doing better?” She puts a warm hand on his forehead for the fifth time that evening to check for a fever. She was the one to find him slumped and groggy in the snow outside. Of course. “You’re still cold,” she mumbles.

At her touch, his heart beats obnoxiously for his attention, like a shrill child being purposefully ignored. Look, look, she’s touching us!

He groans. 

“No, you’re not okay?”

“I am,” he says. “I just hate how I’m feeling.” 

Aqua grins, taking a seat on his armrest, bringing one bare leg to her chest. She’s wearing shorts, and Terra takes a quick glance over. A baggy sweater covers most of her body, and his heart is now thrashing, knowing exactly what it looks like underneath. 

But it’s her eyes that hold him still.

“You’ll get used to it,” she reassures him, nodding into her knee.

That’s usually her answer, and she’s right: the day he came back, the minty taste of mouthwash burned a hole through his jaw, and he had yelled from the pounding in his ears. You’ll get used to it. 

Now, it just gives him a tense headache. See? 

It’s her confidence that he finds so comforting - like she knows all these hyper-feelings will sort themselves out if he gives it another day (or week, or month). After all, she has said before, he’s been out of commission for so long.

Terra wonders if she’s ever said that to herself, night after night in the Realm of Darkness. It’s okay to be alone right now, I’ll get used to it. 

Aqua does such a fantastic job holding it together, even late in the night, when he almost expects her break. She never does. How does she do that?

Love is such a strong word to use, but it’s the truth. 

Terra knew it as a child. Aqua had begged him to play a tea party with her, under very specific conditions: she was the lady knight and he was the princess. She made him wear an apron and a paper tiara to play the part. As much as he begrudged the idea, the moment she told him he was holding the teacup wrong, he knew - he was going to marry her. 

Adults would say that children wouldn’t know any better, but child-Terra knew his heart, and he knew it would never change.

He loves her now, as vibrant as the forest becomes the moment the rain hits. One day, he’ll get used to the feeling and won’t feel the need to cry at the thought.

He thinks about telling her what his last thoughts were, right at the moment he lost it all: her cerulean eyes. How there is the faintest sliver of amethyst in them if they reflect off the sun at just the right angle if he was close enough to see, like a secret jewel nestled in the shallow water of a beach...

“You’re right, I will,” he mutters.

“No more knocking yourself out in the wild?” She chuckles. “Please don’t worry me like that again.”

“I won’t, I’m sorry.”

She hums. “It’s nothing to be sorry about.”

There’s a lot to be sorry for. 

Terra’s eyes fall for just a second. He can’t kick the habit of struggling with his own existence sometimes, but she finds reason after reason inside that insane mind of hers to smile when she looks at him. She forgives him way too many times, and it makes that small girl who barked at him for sipping his tea too loudly at a dainty party seem so distant.

Aqua brushes the tips of her fingers on his knuckles, leaning forward. “I’m…” Stopping herself, she searches the carpet for something to say, anxiety creeping into her face. Try as she might to say more, she can’t bring herself to. She’s chipping. 

Terra turns his palm over to take her hand in his. She’s the one to thread their fingers together.

He doesn’t know why everything knots in his throat either, too apprehensive to come out. Love is a strong word to say after years apart. He’ll let her say it first, lest he scares her more.

If she ever does. Though he’s not scared of it himself. 

The sound of footsteps approach from the hallway, and Aqua releases him before straightening herself out.

Terra’s heart sinks at the silence that crashed between them, uninvited. It drowns when it gets to his stomach, but it will breathe eventually. 

“Chicken soup for the big loser,” Ven announces, rolling a cart with a boiling pot behind him. There’s a stack with three bowls, and spoons. 

Terra and Aqua don’t say anything back, readjusting their posture and pretending that nothing has occurred this moment, this day, or last night. Terra brings his fingers - the ones she held - to his lips. They’ve made contact for so little that he can’t smell her scent on them, but her warmth lingers.

Ven’s about to tease some more when he glances at each of them. “Am I… interrupting something?”

“Not at all, Ven,” Aqua says sweetly, composed. She approaches his work, all the pieces that have crumbled away coming back to her. “It smells delicious.”

Ven tosses a pout at Terra, who’s uncharacteristically quiet in the vicinity of savory food, but Terra gives back a reassuring smile. It’s dimmer than he wants it to be, and Ven’s smart enough to notice it, but he says nothing. 

The rest of the evening passes with pleasant conversations, as it goes:

They have never found a good enough reason to talk about anything else. Why bring the darkness back inside when they make a habit of lighting all the lamps at night?

In every case when one of them is ready to talk, they lock up. Swallow. Cough. Next question.

Pleasantness has its tremendous advantages, as it reminds them the worth of being alive: the warmth of drinking this wonderful soup together, the joy of sharing a joke, the thrill of panicking over the thought that Ven could catch Terra and Aqua in the middle of a compromising position. 

They belong together, the three of them. Wayfinders were specifically made for that pact, and that’s something Terra would never trade anything for... he just wants something more from Aqua, and that shouldn’t break the delicate balance between the three. It shouldn’t, and maybe he’s still naive to think that way.

When the evening sweeps into night, Terra falls into a slightly different dance with Aqua. Lingering looks across the hall, right over Ven’s head, followed by nervous chuckles, with the grand finale of never whispering about what they would do before bed (if they’re going to bed together at all).

And when Ven finally retires to sleep, it’s just the two of them, with nothing left except to improvise. 

Nothing in their timid conversations gives Terra the right opening to bring the subject up. 

He’s ready to expect it’s just him and his hand tonight when Aqua holds his wrist to keep him from returning to his room alone. 

“Do you want to…” Aqua hushes. She brings her hand up to brush her hair out of her face but it stops right before contact, like she’s lost the way. “Um…”

“Sleep with you?” Terra blurts out.

A shocked grin stretches across her face.

He stammers, running a hand through his hair.

There’s nothing wrong with sleeping with her - in fact, the night they came home, they all slept in the same bed, just so they didn’t have to be separated.

Terra’s being dumb - of course sleeping has a different connotation now, even between best friends. Why is it so awkward to bring it up in conversation? It was so much easier this morning when they woke up naked and could do what was natural from there.

Leaning on her door frame, bringing himself closer to her body, Terra braves what’s really on his mind. 

“I- I’ve been thinking about it all day… I want to kiss you again.”

Aqua considers him for a moment. She stands on her toes and brings her mouth to his for a small peck, for a second, for a third, longer one. 

She eyes Ven’s closed bedroom door nervously - it’d be a hell of an explanation if he catches them now. 

So Terra steps into her bedroom, barely illuminated by a single desk lamp that’s living its final days, and she closes it behind him. 

Whipping around, Aqua throws her arms around Terra’s neck, aching for a fourth kiss and so many more that neither of them can keep count. Terra squeezes her waist to his body, bending over to meld her to him while she digs into his hair.

Somehow, holding her this closely isn’t close enough. 

When Terra massages the small of her back, it rustles her sweater so that his fingers make contact with her skin. 

Aqua takes this as her cue, tugging at his shirt. She breaks contact (for an excruciating second) to pull it over his head and he responds in kind by undressing her sweater and tossing it. 

With her bare, soft, springy breasts against his chest, he tastes her lips, her tongue… They have to pant for breath in between but they can’t take the hint to pause. And yet - 

They still aren’t close enough.

Terra picks her up by her thighs, wrapping her legs around his hips to carry her. She buries her face in his shoulder to muffle a laugh, and she yelps when they fall together, bouncing on her bed.

With her head against her mattress, he can now kiss her deeper. His pajamas are so thin he can feel her pelvis in every way when he thrusts and he’s dying to take them off but he doesn’t want to part from her mouth either.

They’re running fast, desperate to finish what they couldn’t from this morning, and he doesn’t know what he should do next - if he should be focusing on some area on her body, or if she’d like him to do something and he’s not understanding what she needs. 

So Terra slows down, savoring her bottom lip, bringing the whirlwind to a breeze, letting them both breathe easier. 

He grazes her jawline and she trembles when he gets to her ear, lingering at a spot he discovers really makes her shiver. She squirms like she finds his lack of speed unbearable, grinding her hips up onto his. He groans. 

She still makes a point to whisper. “On your back.”

So bossy. Terra stops to snort. “Those are fighting words.”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You first,” he says, his voice rough.

“I mean it.” 

Aqua’s hands push against his shoulders, massaging every curve in his pecs, and her legs wrap around his as she makes the first attempt to roll him over.

“Terra.” Her breaths deepen when he stays in place.

“I insist.” 

He isn’t going to let her make him the focus of all her attention just yet - and they both know she’s always lost at wrestling with him. 

She tries her game anyway, lifting herself to reunite his lips with hers while they sit up.

Both options are tempting. Terra can surrender to her, melt under her touch so she can have her way, and let her think she’s won. That’s a nice fantasy… but he doesn’t like losing either.

He laughs into her smile, grabbing her wrists and bringing them over her head. He holds them together in between the thick fingers of one giant hand, and brings her weight down with his. He’s won, easily.

Then he takes his other hand to brush his fingers across one nipple, from top to bottom, while his lips find a good spot on her neck that makes her whimper. She rocks her hips with his, coaxing him into a slow, intoxicating rhythm. Her shorts are also thin, and she’s wet through the fabric. It sets him on fire, sparking from his pelvis and burning up to his chest. It’s so hard to resist her. 

“What are you doing,” he murmurs, and he feels her giggle from underneath her pulse. 

“Playing a strategy.” She gasps and tenses from his nibbling. “I think I’m winning.”

Traveling down her collarbone, Terra finds himself at her breasts, taking his first taste for the night while rolling circles on the other, eliciting a moan from her - one she keeps stifled, so she’s not too loud.

“Not yet,” he says.

“Give it time,” she says, bringing one leg to hook around Terra’s hips.

Terra growls into her skin. She’s making it difficult.

She’s winning.

“Dammit, Aqua,” he whispers into her chest before standing up, taking her shorts and panties with him before fumbling with his pants. 

Pleased with herself, Aqua rises to meet him, a hand snaking down his abdomen, playing with the tuft of hair before going lower. 

He’s weak when she strokes him, when she grabs him, when she rubs the entire length, twisting her hold. She’s a quick study, and the gooseflesh crawling all over his back slips him into a stupor. He tumbles over the bed. His pants bind him by the knees still, but they’re forgotten. 

Straddling him, Aqua settles. Slowly, too - she’s adjusting herself to him before taking him fully, and if he didn’t know any better, it feels like the sweetest, sickest comeback for teasing her so bad.

A shiver strikes through his spine when he gets warm and she gets tight. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning out loud. 

Meanwhile, Aqua experiments with her movement, her angles, her speed, whether she should rock her hips back and forth. She looks good on top of him, naked and bouncing and enjoying herself, running her palms across his carved abs, feeling the ripples where his skin dips. Something about the way she leans her head back sends Terra on a high. 

His hands feel everything. He measures how her waist curves inward before following the trail out to her hips. The muscles on her thighs buck with every thrust she makes.

It doesn’t matter how she looks: with or without clothes, in bright light or in poor light, even with shadows chiseling her amazing form, none of it does her any justice. 

She’s beautiful. He’s lucky. 

The more she moves, the more he comes closer to that brink, and he’s too drunk to find the words to tell her. The best he can do is moan her name, and when she gently shushes him, it turns him on even more.

But then his heart beats too hard. It stings as sharp as a cut.

The monster with the sharp canines smiles. Snaps its jaws.

The brink will make him fall over (and never get back up again). He’ll die. No. He’ll lose control. Go to sleep. Lose her forever, all over again. 

Terra grips her hips and lifts her off of him. “No no no no,” he says, lurching up, leaning over the edge of the bed. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Terra?”

He shudders from the heat rising to the top of his head. His hands tremble violently, and he rubs the pads of his fingers against his palms to make sure he can still feel. Gritting his teeth together, Terra takes all he has to stop himself from yelling - no need for Ven to spring out of bed and burst in here to save the day - and the effort withers Terra to exhaustion. 

Aqua holds the back of his hand - very gently, brushing her fingers first to test if he’d have a strong reaction. He realizes that he never responded to her. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Terra holds her face, stroking the worries off of her cheek with his thumb. “You were,” he swallows. Even in such dim light, her eyes keep their rich brightness. “You’re perfect.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him. A dark thought trickles in his mind, and suddenly he can’t look at her anymore - she must be so disappointed with his awful performance.

“I’m just a basket case, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t say that.” She gifts him the most generous smile, one he doesn’t understand. But that’s Aqua, never asking for something in return. 

She hugs him warmly, giving his shoulders a steady hold as if to keep him up. 

Despite how big of a man Terra is, now he is fragile, wilting into her strength. He wants to be more like her, to keep himself together. Silent tears stroll down his cheeks until they land on her bare shoulders and continue on their way.

With his palm, Terra rubs their existence off of her skin. 

A much-needed chill comes down his spine - she’s cooling him off with her magic, letting the Blizzard gently wisp off of her fingers. 

“Can you talk about it?” Letting him go, Aqua throws her feet over the edge of the bed to join him, side by side. 

Terra cannot. He stares at his knees, throwing glances at her to create words out of thin air. 

Aqua threads her hand under his arm to interlace their fingers together, resting them on his thigh. Her hand is so small in comparison, but in Terra’s opinion, it’s a perfect fit. 

“I think I have an idea of what happened,” she says when she’s waited long enough. “Even when we spar, you don’t let yourself go all the way.”

Feeling like he’s finally seen, Terra unravels. “What if I lose it and go crazy? What if I hurt you?”

She eyes him for a moment. At first she’s full of concern, but she’s the type that when she faces anything that intimidates her, she’ll find a reason to stay brave. “Then I retaliate. I’m good at that.”

It sounds like such a simple and logical answer that Terra can’t help but feel silly for never considering that she’s stronger than he is. 

Yet there’s plenty to worry about - she deserves a better lover that wouldn’t have fits in the worst of times, or threaten to kill her in the best.

“I know,” she continues when he says nothing. “It’s weird to have good things.”

Terra huffs. Drawing his voice low, he says, “Aren’t we supposed to tell ourselves that we deserve them?” She shifts uncomfortably against his arm, and he chuckles cynically. “Maybe we can hope.”

“No,” she drawls, rubbing circles on his knuckles with her thumb. “Hoping is dangerous.”

The scar on his chest is rough under the touch of his palm. Those have been the truest words he’s heard in years, and they worry him. If they continue to try again, he’ll continue to dissatisfy her, with no guarantee he could give her what she wants. 

“It feels like,” he says, “willingly jumping off a mountain.”

Aqua leans her head on his shoulder, watching the stillness of her carpet with him. It’s as dark as the deep sea. 

“It does. We’re supposed to stay optimistic, and the letdown destroys us until it numbs. And then there’s nothing left.”

“And then there’s nothing left,” Terra whispers back.

“Wishing is a little safer.” He feels her smile into his bicep. 

“That’s more like willingly drowning yourself.”

“Taking one swallow isn’t too bad by comparison,” she says, squeezing his hand harder. Her cheek trembles, and her eyes dart back and forth across the room. She’s chipping again. “Can I make one wish?”

“Of course.”

It takes quite a moment before she speaks again, and all he hears is her ragged breathing. It almost sounds like she’s about to cry, but she doesn’t. She’s a miracle.

“I wish for a good night’s sleep. I wish you’d stay in bed with me. I wish for more time with you, and… I wish you’d come back tomorrow night. Or maybe I could go to your room. Either way, I don’t want us to stop.”

Since he’s been expecting her to wish him away, Terra chokes on a sob. He wants the same, and he wants to say it, and he wants to kiss her again but he’s shocked. If he slips one word, he’ll fall apart and she’ll have to carry him all over again.  

He squeezes her hand back, and all the tears wanting to pour out of his eyes find their place in the strength of his grip, and they stay dry. 

As though she understands what he’s not saying, she smiles. “It’s a journey, just like everything else, right? I think there’s every reason to step off that cliff, and I want to be there with you when we do.”

Terra sits with her words, comfortable in the quiet. It’s not like they had a teacher to coax them in the right direction about the art of tumbling in bed. In the privacy of his mind, he can pretend the reason she’s willing to be patient is because she loves him, too. 

“I needed to hear that,” he says, his pajamas slipping off of his ankles. He’s completely exposed but his skin is just the outer shell. The fact his soul has been heard is the most naked he’s ever been. “I’m impressed.” 

Aqua holds her breath. “You’re impressed? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He stifles his snickering but it only makes it harder not to laugh. 

“Nevermind, don’t answer that,” she says, giving him a playful shove. “I know I put my foot in my mouth, sometimes.” 

“Sometimes.” 

“Which means I’m sensible other times.” She holds up a finger to make a point.

Terra lifts the hand he’s holding and kisses the back of it. She’s still so much like the girl who glared at him when he slurped his tea. “Whatever you say, I’ll play along.”

She shoves him harder and finds herself in his clutches, under threat of unbearable tickling. She locks her laughter up so hard that it slips out in squeaks. Without her magic, she’s completely futile against his ferociously giant hands. She admits defeat when they fall on their backs. 

Now they rest, and she’s finally close enough, their bodies locking warmth in between.

They whisper good night through soft, innocent kisses. Aqua finds refuge on his shoulder while her arms go limp on his thick waist, one leg tucked in between his, burrowing her body into his. Every time she drifts in and out and remembers that he’s with her, she inches closer.

How she wants to be near him this much blows his mind. He tells himself he’ll get used to it. 

Her breathing slows as he rubs circles on her back, and soon enough, she’s asleep, like she knows nothing except a world without nightmares or shadows. 

It’s been a long time since he’s thought about when they first started sparring - how they paused before striking, how they confused a cue for another and hit each other when they weren’t supposed to, how they bickered and teased when the course of the game adjusted to their skill level. They didn’t know what they were doing then.

Last night, she gave him the benefit of the doubt, too, telling him all they need is practice. 

Now’s the perfect time than ever - Terra whispers into her hair until he finds it easier to say, knowing she won’t hear him until he’s ready to face her.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I SWEAR this will end happily. I swear it. To be continued.

[hoodoo12]

Ménage (1/13ish)

Based on a rp I’ve done with the insanely talented @monsterlovinghours , here’s 13 chapters + 2 supplemental stories featuring my Beetlejuice, her OC, and a surprise guest star . . .

 SFW and NSFW chapters, Beetlejuice/f!OC, smut, trespassers, violence, comfort and care

Enjoy!

@beetlewise-and-pennyjuice  @dilfyjuice @thewolfisapartofmysoul

~

The air felt charged, heavy with static and anticipation as she set the final pieces of her altar in place. Herbs to attract, to sanctify the space and make the veil between the living world and the next paper-thin, easily breached. Incense, to purify. Sigils to charge her magic, like amplifiers drawn in white chalk to channel and to cast. Lastly, she set three tapered candles in separate jars, evenly spaced, and lit them from right to left. First, the black candle, for grounding and focus. Then, the green, for good fortune in her endeavor. And finally, the white, for goodness and purity. There was no way the ritual could fail. Right?

Molly took a deep breath, in for three, and out for five. The incantation she had spent the entire day memorizing ran through her head, line by line; she knew it by heart, but even so, her heart wavered. There was no guarantee it would work the way she wanted to, or even work at all; magic was tricky that way, she had found. Spells of this magnitude were just a little beyond her pay grade; she had stuck mostly to kitchen magic, green magic, safe magic. Things to help her garden grow, to bring a sense of peace into her empty home.

 Empty.

She cleared her throat. Steeled her resolve. She had faith in her ability, and if there was anything her home needed, it was a good spirit to help fill it. Another deep breath, and the spell began to spill from her lips, palms placed flat upon the altar. The words filled the quiet space, gathering momentum, until the final syllable dropped like a guillotine, and the candles blew out, plunging the room into the darkness.

 Did it work?

As always, there was the bittersweet taste in his mouth and a pressure in his gut that made him want to curl up and stretch at the same time. He grimaced at first, but the sweet grew stronger than the bitter with each recitation of his name, and by third syllable of the third repeat, he felt like he could take on the world.

With an ecstatic laugh, Beetlejuice stepped out of the nowhere and into here, wherever here was. His amber eyes landed on the breather who'd been so kind as to call him.

"Baby, you have made my day!" he crowed, and swept towards her, arms open wide for a hug.

She screamed. She couldn't help it. The laugh was answer enough that her spell had worked, jarring and maybe just a little bit unhinged. Not the gentle chill or whisper that she had been expecting. And then, to see something so very solid and un-spiritlike come charging out of the darkness, arms open as its eyes and teeth glittered in equal measure? She scrambled backward, heart hammering in her chest. That was not the result she had been hoping to yield.

Pressed to the wall, she paused a moment, willing herself to settle down; there was no reason to believe she was in any immediate danger. After all, it had called her baby, seemed practically giddy to be here in her living room, and had approached her with gratitude. Very intimidating gratitude.

"Wh . . . who are you?"

Her heart still galloping in her chest, she fumbled for the light switch, flooding the room with light and getting a better look at her new houseguest. At first glances, yes, he seemed terrifying. But, as she looked closer, the less imposing he seemed. Tall, wearing a dingy, threadbare suit in garish black and white carnival stripes, chipped nails a dull black, his hair a mossy green.

"Are you . . . you're not a spirit, are you?"

"What is that, sage?" Beetlejuice asked the woman who was half cowering against the wall. "Smells good, baby, but not as good as you, I bet."

He winked and swooped in, giving her a hug that squeezed her arms to her sides. She was cute. To be polite, he should answer her questions.

"Am I a spirit?" he replied. "Like the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come? Nah. More like the Ghost with the Most. The spirit of here and now and let's have some fun, ya know? But first things first--you called me up. Who do I need to kill?"

Before she could reply that yes, that was sage, sage and lavender and palo santo and a host of other herbs, he had swept her up into a bone-crushing hug that nearly pushed the air out of her lungs. Her spine creaked in protest, groaning as the smell of him surrounded her, wet earth and moss and a hint of something sulphuric. Unusual, but not altogether unpleasant. And there was that pet name again; he certainly was a flirtatious . . . whatever he was.

Her eyes widened when she heard the word kill leave his mouth, and she frantically shook her head.

"No! No, no, no one, no one needs killing!"

Despite her arms being pinned, she did her best to grasp at him, managing to grab his hips and try to push him back just enough to allow her to take a full breath.

"Let's . . . whoa, okay, slow down a second. So you are a ghost? You seem pretty solid to me." The Ghost of Here and Now, he had called himself, and she didn't want to think about the kind of fun he was alluding to.

"And you don't have to call me baby. My name is Molly."

Her hands on his hips were a trigger to press into her more tightly. He couldn't help it; it just felt right.

He barely listened to her list of whatever ingredients she was talking about, but his ears perked up at the word "kill", only to realize that once again, that was off the table.  As to her other question, the one she seemed stuck on, he replied,

"Ghost, spirit, demon . . . Does that really matter? You called. I, uh, came. And I like calling you baby. If that doesn't vibe with you, there's always ‘baby girl.’ How's that for a compromise?"

He grinned at her, and tried not to show too many pointed teeth.

Now not only were his arms pinning her, his body was as well, crushing her against the wall. Okay. Wrong place to grab. Molly instead wriggled her arms up to press against his chest, hoping to push him back a hair so she could breathe.

"'Baby' is fine," she muttered in defeat; 'baby girl' was a realm she was not comfortable stepping into only knowing him for a minute and a half at most. "And no, I . . . I suppose it doesn't matter."

She sighed in defeat; the spell had done its job, and it wasn't her guest's fault she didn't specify exactly what kind of spirit she wanted.

"Can, um, can you let up a bit? I'm getting lightheaded."

Her gaze lifted to his face, noticing now that there were patches of green on his jaw and by his nose. Moss? Mold? Rot? Each possibility seemed more disturbing than the last. Yet, past the unidentifiable substances, he wasn't half-bad on the eyes. Eyes the color of honey, framed by dark lashes. Grinning lips that held a distinct purplish hue, and rather sharp teeth. Huh. Surprisingly enough, she wasn't afraid of his inhuman appearance, no small amount of fascination creeping into her gaze. Well, he may not be the spirit she had wanted, but she could be happy with what she got.

"Is there something I can call you?"

Her wiggling felt nice, until he remembered breathers needed to breathe, and he relaxed his grip. He only took half a step away, though, she was too warm to just let go!

"What to call me?" Beetlejuice mused, licking his teeth. "Honey or lover are good. Sweetheart. Love of my life! Don't laugh, but I'm a little partial to lambkins, even if it's from like the fifteenth century. "

He'd seen the slow interest growing in her eyes disappear like candy floss in water, and reined it in.

"You can call me BJ. Or Beej," he quickly amended. "So what made someone sweet as you call up someone like me?

Much needed oxygen filled her lungs as he took a half-step back, his arms still pressed around her. That was fine, as long as she could breathe. As it was, her hands were still on his chest, despite the sought-after distance. It was just . . . nice. Despite the lack of warmth or discernible heartbeat, it was nice to touch and be touched. When was the last time she had actually experienced deliberate touch?

Molly couldn't help it; at the offered pet names, she let out a short laugh.

"Sorry, wow, but lambkins?" She hadn't meant to laugh; it had slipped out before she could catch it, and for the first time since his arrival, she was able to slip into a small smile. "Beej is good. Or, y'know, I used to call people 'honey' all the time anyway. That's fine with me.

"Well," she started, nodding to what remained of her altar; she had accidentally kicked it as she had scrambled backward, knocking the candles and half the herbs to the floor, "I was attempting to summon a spirit that would be good for my home, a . . . calming presence. I don't think I did it right."

She sighed. "Still learning the big stuff. But you're here anyway, and honestly? It's just . . . it's nice to hear someone else's voice."

It may have been a trick of the light, but what could have been hope glinted in her eyes as she looked up at him. "So, I mean, even though you're not what I meant to summon, you're welcome to stay, if you'd like."

Beetlejuice smiled as she laughed, even at his expense. It had been a while since he'd spent time with a warm living person, and the fact that she hadn't actively pushed him away was nice. Nice enough that she was going to feel the effect she was having on the ol' Sandworm in his pants, if he couldn't will it away.

"You have a pretty voice," he told her, before shaking his head. "A calming spirit? Like a brownie, uh, house spirit or some kind of fey? What the hell for? Those things aren't calming, they're like goddamn raccoons on speed, getting into all your stuff. And if you invite them in, then piss them off?! They'll make your life a living hell, baby."

He stared off into the middle distance for a second, then gave himself a shake.

"So. Yeah. You're lucky you got me instead! You did a good job wrapping your tongue around those syllables . . . I bet it'd be good wrapped around other things too."

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Despite the alarming oddness of her current situation, the compliment caused a petal-pink blush to spread across her cheeks, eyes dropping as he admonished her against inviting spirits into her home. At least, the troublesome sort, of which she was not fully convinced he was not.

The pink quickly flushed to red at his very thinly veiled innuendo, choking on air at the insinuation and the suggestive arch of his brow.

"U-Uh . . . " She had nothing. Not a single response. Her brain short circuited at the thought. "Well, th-that . . . is not outside the realm of possibility, but . . . Jesus, I haven't even talked to another person face to face in almost two years. Let me get to know you a little better before I wrap my tongue around anything, huh?"

Her hands gave his chest a gentle pat, then dropped, indicating that she wanted to move from her spot against the wall. "Do you wanna go sit down? Personally I could use a drink. Do you drink? Can you drink?"

His eyes flicked from her lips to the color on her cheeks and back to her lips again, amused at her cute flustered stuttering.  The rest of it though; he pursed his own lips for a moment and cocked his head.

"You haven't spoken to anyone in almost two years? Did you take some vow of silence? Did talking to me break that vow, and--" he dropped his voice in a conspiratorial whisper, "--now you're going to hell? Let me tell you, it's totally worth it, minus the smell. All the demon dick or snatch you might want. Everybody swings both ways, sexually."

In case she wasn't one hundred percent sure what he meant, he released her and made two hand gestures, one to each side to give a visual demonstration. He glanced back up at her with a smirk before it came to him he may have overstepped a little, and he reeled it back in.

"But you know what? You've probably got your reasons," he said, waving the whole thing off.  "What've you got to drink? Absinthe? Gin? Corked wine? I'm not too picky."

With that, he finally backed away, spinning on his heel to investigate the room she'd called him too. He knelt and picked up a candle that had fallen to the ground, the green one, and twirled it between his fingers. He pinched some of the scattered plant material he found too, and sniffed it; to his disappointment it was not weed. Standing again, he righted all the candles and set the green one in its place.

"How'd you find my name, anyway?" he asked casually, lighting the green candle from the tip of his finger, and then extinguishing the flame  again. "Usually people pronounce it differently and, uh, get this shorter version. Of me."

He lit the candle again, then smashed the flame between his thumb and fingers peevishly, imagining it was the other guy's face. Suddenly, though, he whipped around to her.

"Where are my manners? What's your name, baby?" he asked, as if he'd been horribly rude.

The gesture made her flush deepen a shade, a strange knot forming low in her belly, and she shook her head.

"No . . . no, no vow of silence. It's . . . well, it's a long story, and I'd prefer to have liquor in me if I'm gonna unpack all of that." She took a deep breath, willing the burning in her cheeks to fade before starting for the kitchen. "I have strawberry whiskey. Pink as French whore but it kicks like a rifle. Or I have regular whiskey, but that's not as fun."

She quickly poured drinks, the familiar sound of ice crackling as she poured whiskey over it into two glasses helping her calm back down. Okay. She had a ghost in her living room. A very solid, very bold, and admittedly very handsome ghost. This was fine. This was good. This was basically what she wanted, and the fact that she could touch her guest? A perk.

She came back out with glasses in hand to find him at the altar, settling the candles back in place, lighting one only to snuff it out again. Apparently he can produce fire from his fingertips. Neat.

"Well . . . I had to do some digging, but . . ." She sighed and handed him his drink. "This is embarrassing. I searched for a spell that would attract a good spirit . . . to a lonely soul." She grimaced and jerked her thumb toward herself. "Three guesses who that is.

"And my name is Molly. Nice to official meet you, honey." With a smirk, even daring a wink at the suggested nickname, she sank onto the couch and indicated that he should do the same.

Beetlejuice accepted the glass and sniffed the pink liquid in it suspiciously.

"It's a nice color," he told her. "Matches that pretty blush of yours.”

It smelled like alcohol, with a faint top note of sweet, so he shrugged and threw it back.  The familiar burn of booze gave him faux warmth on its way down. Then the ice hit his teeth and it dawned on him people put ice in drinks that were to be sipped. Breathers and their weird social rules.

"Molly. Nice to meet you too, baby," he said, holding up his now empty glass in a toast. He sank onto the couch, like this was a proper social visit. "Lonely? A hot babe like you? I have a hard time believing that. But--"

He paused and dropped his gaze to the glass in his hand.

"--it's something I'm familiar with. That spell might've worked just fine, baby. Connected two lonely people. Brought 'em together."

That was a little more personal than he tended to get. He'd toss it off as an effect of the booze, if she asked, but one glass of whiskey wasn't enough to affect him. It was just her and the fact she called him.

He lifted his eyes to hers again, although he didn't pick up his head, gazing at her from slightly under his brows, slightly from the side.

"So, Molly, what were you hoping would come out of inviting a spirit into your place?"

Hot babe? She scoffed derisively, sipping her drink as he settled into the couch beside her. "Dunno what's hot about a social recluse with emotional baggage, but whatever you say, hon."

Her brow raised as he admitted that her spell might have worked better than she thought, that he was just as starved for company as she was. Did ghosts get lonely? Where were all the other dead people? Molly couldn't help a small smile, her heart feeling tugged toward him. When he cast his gaze at her, looking aside as if afraid to face her directly, she scooted closer, cross-legged on the couch facing him.

"Mostly I was hoping to feel less alone. I cut off contact with people for my own reasons, but that doesn’t keep me from getting lonely. I figured if not the living, try the dead." Gently, her touch feather light, she reached out and put a hand on his arm. "Honestly? I wasn't expecting to have a guest I could touch. So I'm glad I got you."

It was foreign to him why someone would purposefully choose to not be with people. That was a driving force in his existence; a need that was only marginally met, and usually only a fraction of the time he wanted it.

He lifted his head more properly and looked her over more fully. No matter how she scoffed her own personal opinion of herself, she was pretty.

Her shifting closer on the cushions and even going so far as to put one of her hands on him sent a thin electric jolt through him. He could even imagine the warmth of her palm seeping through his jacket sleeve.

"A guest you could touch, huh? Some beings can become corporeal, baby, but not all of them are willing to let humans touch them. You're lucky you didn't call something celestial," he said with a grin. "Luckily, I'm not one of them."

Her grin seemed to mirror his, though hers was decidedly less sharp.

"Honey, I'm still small time, I don’t think I have the juice to call something celestial."

Her hand rubbed his arm, noting the interesting texture of his suit, ragged and coarse. Already, the house felt less cavernous, less empty, less haunted with him here, and how was that for irony? It may take some adjusting, but she was looking forward to him staying here.

If he even intended to stay.

Her hand faltered a bit at the thought. No one stayed. That was the point. As if wrapped in iron bands, her chest suddenly felt tight, and she looked down as if noticing his empty glass for the first time.

"Let me top you off," she said quietly, taking the glass, the ice inside barely melted, since there was no body heat to warm the glass. "You wanna try regular whiskey this time or are we sticking with the pink stuff?"

The petting was nice. Even if it was to just feel the texture of his suit, he could imagine it was for him.

"Don't think you couldn't catch the attention of something celestial, baby," he told her sincerely, before dropping his voice as if maybe one of them was listening in. "Like demons, they're whores. Always looking for attention. But with their aversion to being touched by a human, they're more Dommy than anything else."

He threw her a wink, but his smile faded at her sudden change in demeanor. She'd become smaller, somehow, as she took his glass. Still, he couldn't help but try again.

"You can definitely top me, Molly," he replied as he gave up the glass, deliberately leaving any reference to drink out.

His bold joke made her somber expression break into laughter suddenly, a quick chuff as she hid pinked cheeks behind her hand. Molly pretended to scold him, though her eyes smiled, a grin twitching on her mouth.

 "Behave."

In the kitchen, she poured him a measure of the regular whiskey, which unfortunately was cheap. The plastic jug it came in sloshd half-empty as she filled his glass. His various suggestive comments and innuendos hadn’t gone unnoticed, or, frankly, unappreciated. The thought, ghost or not, made heat shiver down her spine, a feeling she was very unfamiliar with. But still, Molly remained doubtful that he could actually mean it. Sure, it was all fun and games until he figured out her story, understood the weight of the burden he'd be taking on with her.

Why was she even worrying about this? He was dead. What higher standard could he possibly have? Molly rolled her eyes and took a swig straight from the jug, grimacing at the bitterness. She'd spend all night in the kitchen fretting at this rate.

Refreshed drinks in hand, she settled back on the couch, in the same position as he before, her folded knees brushing his thigh. Her unoccupied hand reached for his, the chill of his flesh less of a shock now, with the warmth of the liquor in her blood.

 tbc

[endlessdoom]

The Plutonia Experiment

32 maps megawad.

By the brothers Casali.

1996.

https://doomwiki.org/wiki/The_Plutonia_Experiment

Level 1: Congo

Iconic beginning that presents us one of the most popular tricks of Plutonia: Chaingunners, Archies and a lot of pain. Pretty hot start that delivers quite greatly.

Level 2: Well of Souls

An elevator styled entrance that delivers quite the punchy level with some awesome ‘‘congo’‘ vibes more than the actual congo level.

Level 3: Aztec

Iconic beginning that presents us one of the most popular tricks of Plutonia ''invisible bridges'' I'm not a fan of them but I can see the charm in this first level.

Level 4: Caged

Surrounded on all sides and ready to die The first level of Plutonia that presents the classic style of difficulty but keeps a nice balance between exploration and combat.

Level 5: Ghost Town

We are moving to a tighter and more traditional format but one that remains constant though somewhat simpler.

Level 6: Baron's Lair

One of my favorites. A medium size level but with a more interesting layout that reveals different areas of combat and a dynamic and entertaining progression.

Level 7: Caughtyard

Another of my favorites and one of the icons of the set. This is a simple square map sand style but with a pretty hot gameplay that will take blind-players by surprise. It still has a good quality of play and is fun to play with at all times.

Level 8: Realm

A bit punishing at times but with a fluid design.

Level 9: Abattoire

Quite open and with a more bloody combat. This is one of the first big maps and takes us through a somewhat different but acceptable adventure.

Level 10: Onslaught

With a design that makes more use of exteriors, this level combines a beautiful design with an attractive and challenging gameplay.

Level 11: Hunted

Oh boy. This is probably one of the most iconic maps in history. A great labyrinth where the only enemies are nothing more and nothing less than Archviles. What does of this one a quite destructive and frustrating adventure for moments, but the simple originality of the concept does of this one a fascinating map.

Level 12: Speed

Moving is the key, although not as fast as the map indicates. A high design and a few surprises make this a nice and drastic adventure.

Level 13: The Crypt

Towards the depths of a tolerable map.

Level 14: Genesis

Smaller than normal but with a closed circuit design that allows constant movement and gameplay that flows like the wind.

Level 15: The Twilight

(Exit to secret level)

Things get hot. We need good moves and a bit of strategy to advance a more tactical map and with a less merciful gameplay but always maintaining a solid quality.

Level 16: The Omen

A small level with a lot of intensity. Developed in a simple system of capture of keys which are at first sight and without major problem. The combat, however, is developed as a system of constant surprises in which the player will be ambushed at every given opportunity, creating an intense level that despite having a duration of about 6 minutes manages to deliberate an entertaining gameplay with a design that, even if it is simplistic, does the job in a good way. Some areas can be a bit annoying (deliberately) and makes it a bit difficult to get around, but Plutonia has far harsher maps and this one feels more like an intermission that lets us rest a bit.

Level 17: Compound

Another short level that follows the same visual theme of this chapter. What we have here now is a more intricate design with an entertaining layout that combines a bit of traditional style with certain abstract structures. With a more fluid but equally hot combat, this is a fast level that enjoys a good flow.

Level 18: Neurosphere

Interestingly fluid, dynamic and quite intense without necessarily being destructive. This is a level that has a very entertaining flow that allows to appreciate the combat of a more dynamic way at the same time that it stays stable and balanced before the player, taking into account the difficulty of the most famous maps of this game. I could say that this map feels more like a MAP01, or at least it could have been very successful as the first map.

Level 19: NME

Hot and short in size, but well packaged. That sounds weird. This is a pretty intense map that sees us in a tight fight and requires a little more anticipation to survive, as well as a few surprises that can take us by surprise. With a nice design but a bit stressful combat, it is a solid map. All the maps have been pretty solid, actually.

Level 20: The Death Domain

Something a little more traditional but welcome, with a good collection of Chaingunners and a circular but constant layout.

Level 21: Slayer

A circular map with an intricate design that takes us through an intense but entertaining combat.

Level 22: Impossible Mission

Square and designed based on rooms with different boxes. It follows a somewhat sporadic flow and can be slightly lost but maintains a solid visual warmth to compensate. Combat stays normally-balanced up until the end. But overall, fun enough.

Level 23: Tombstone

Long and with a complex design. A little bit of unnecesary backtracking at times but it makes up for it with an intense and fun gameplay.

Level 24: The Final Frontier

Fantastic small enigmatic map with an abstract design that will make us go through a little trial and error until we find the victory. Playing this map with the MIDI pack is orgasmic.

Level 25: The Temple of Darkness

Long and with multiple monster closets as well as tight and tactical combat. A nice, intense and full of adrenaline map.

Level 26: Bunker

Simple style and even has some touches of Heretic but with good combat although a bit of a puzzle/lost layout.

Level 27: Anti-Christ

Great, fun and hot. With a dynamic combat and varied heights, which gives good depth to the fight and makes us go through a well-balanced and entertaining challenge.

Level 28: The Sewers

Enigmatic. It leaves somewhat disturbing airs which gives it a good presentation. With a somewhat lost but well structured layout manages to create a slightly longer adventure with good action.

Level 29: Odyssey of Noises

Iconic for different reasons and controversial for others. This is an attractive map with an urban style like Sandy, combining abstract buildings with a little more attractive architecture. With an expansive and big layout, the map is quite long and a bit lost, but it compensates with a good gameplay and open combat.

Level 30: The Gateway of Hell

The end of Plutonia. A decent IoS fight with a bit of foreshadowing and good build up to the final battle, which has a few tricks up its sleeve. Overall, decent, but definitely one of the best IoS of the IWADs, if not the best.

Level 31: Cyberden

(Exit to super secret level)

Interesting gimmick map with a few Cyberdemons to keep us company.

Level 32: Go 2 It

The iconic Go 2 It. It doesn't need many words other than to say that it is a pioneer of a particular style and features a gameplay and layout as violent as it is fantastic, though unfair and cruel at times.

End.

» Overall:

The Plutonia Experiment (1996)

By Dario and Milo Casali

In 1996, history was made. Final Doom, the last expansion of the classic Doom, is finally released and with it brings to our eyes two of the most iconic megawads in history. The Plutonia Experiment is one of those holy or not so holy grails that we adore to this day. Considered by many as an irreplicable milestone in the history of Doom and by others as an outdated and particularly cruelly designed work. Whatever the opinion, we can all easily accept that Plutonia came to stay sedimented among the most influential megawads in history.

Made by the brothers Casali in an almost speedmapping way, almost indeed, the Plutonia Experiment, or simply Plutonia, is one of a kind, specially during the 90s when the world of WADs was still in a very primitive, almost baby-like state. Of course, things would change quite quickly but not until Final Doom hit the shelves, and oh boy did it also hit the Doom community. Of course, it is such an iconic work that it is practically as famous as the original Doom 2 or Ultimate Doom itself, bringing with its different mechanics and creative tricks that would later be replicated several times in other distinctive and fantastic ways, creating a cycle of improvements and approaches to new ideas. Plutonia is nothing new, not at all, but it's something I've barely gotten to discover properly. While I played it a long, long time ago, I could barely remember the first five levels, much less the last few. I wanted to give it one more spin, one where I could fully appreciate the creation of this magnificent specimen. I did it and now I can see with a different eye the reason for the appreciation of this megawad. The cult of the Plutonia lies deep and with a very good reason.

Visually speaking, Plutonia is twice better looking than Doom 2, and quite frankly, TNT: Evilution, and that’s something I think we can all agree upon (well, pretty much anything looks better than Doom 2 now a days.) with no major problem. Interestingly, the levels were created by only two people, which gives a certain sense of respect for the creative capacity and practical ability of the Casali brothers. Dario did a total of 14 levels while his brother Milo did a total of 18, giving their respective authors a fairly respectable number. Which level was made by whom? That we will probably never know, although speculation may tell us certain things and analysis of map techniques others, at least we can all agree that the two authors show a well-defined quality in terms of their overall quality. Almost all Plutonia maps are attractive to look at, fun to admire and have generally understandable layouts with no major visual or progressive detractors. From the first iconic level to the last IoS, each map has a distinctive shape that gives it a certain renown, with, obviously, some maps standing out more than others, such as Congo for its respective high level of difficulty for a first level, or Hunted, for its unique way of screwing up our day with a few thousand Arch-Viles (is actually just a few dozen, but let’s drop some salt in it).

Each 10 maps are divided into chapters with a specific visual theme. The first 10 are Earth Levels, with the next 10 being Hell Levels and the last 10 being Devil Hive levels, a unique mix of particularly atrocious levels with disturbing visuals. Of course, the all-mighty secret levels also have a distinctive look, but they are not particular adherent to any other chapter. The first 11 levels manage to create that earthy feel quite well by offering brown textures that seem to recreate fortresses or human settlements, as well as clearly palpable architecture and realistic definitions without needing to be hyper-realistic. They just look good for what they need to work for. From map 12 to 20 we have the infernal levels that try to recreate what seems to be hell cities, or places with red tints. In one way or another, they manage to evoke dark sensations and also offer iconic battles in rivers of blood and red skies. From level 21 to 30 we finally have the center of all corruption. The Devil Hive levels are maps that recreate inner sectors of hell, such as capitals or demonic cities. Most of them usually look good and offer long combat spaces, although some maps can be a little longer than necessary, each of them satisfies.

And when we talk about satisfaction, we, of course, have to talk about gameplay. This is probably the most brilliant point of Plutonia, and one that many would consider essential in the history of Doom WAD development. Plutonia introduced, without a doubt, the most difficult original levels of all classic Doom, making use of a totally cruel creative and planning freedom that is designed to envelop the player in levels of absolute carnage and unnecessary insanity. This resulted in a plethora of iconic levels that stand out for their absurd early difficulty, as I said earlier, Congo is probably the ideal map to represent what Plutonia is all about. I don't have to say anything else; this has already been said to death: Revenants, Chaingunners, Arch-Viles, Barons, Mancubus. Be prepared to see them in whole hordes. However, what do I think of this? Well, at first, I must admit I was a bit skeptical about my initial reaction, since I'm usually more of a fan of casual WADs that show some mercy to the players, on the other hand, I also appreciate a good shot of adrenaline to get the glands moving. Plutonia is definitely going for the latter. What we have here is the introduction of what I, and many, consider the proto-slaughtermap. Before Hell Revealed, Plutonia already had the first slaughter-style maps, such as the immortal Got 2 It. These are brutal maps, even for modern years. Sure, many other WADs have managed to surpass Plutonia's overall difficulty, including its famed unofficial sequel, but Plutonia is the starting point where it all began and from there were born distinctive WAD making moves that would later be sedimented as part of the iconic variety of this beautiful community. I can't hate that, it's simply impossible since it's a factor that, despite being so divergent, brought about a change that would end up favoring the freedom of design and the brutality of the unforgivable gameplay.

I enjoyed every second of it, from start to finish without encountering any major difficulties and that's pretty incredible, considering that all other IWADs have at least one major negative quality that tends to affect my enjoyment. Plutonia, on the other hand, didn't present me with any truly annoying factors. Even its brutal difficulty was extremely enjoyable and I'm sure it has managed to survive modern times precisely because of that.

Sure, it's a bit old, and some maps tend to be a bit more boring to look at than others, but it's a journey through time that launches us into the golden grail that everyone wanted to reach during the 90s. A time when everyone was waiting for the ''Next Plutonia''. The Casali brothers created a movement that would forever remain on the plaques of Doom history, and for that and much more, I think we should all be thankful that what we have here is, without a doubt, the best IWAD ever. Plutonia is an experience and one that everyone, without fail, should try sometime in their life. It may kick your ass, but a kick never felt so good.

[videogameroses]

Burning Fury

《The ancestors had given her strength. And now she would use that strength to kill her father.》

The pain of the blade slicing through her flesh - her bones - like paper. Pieces of glass biting into the skin of her legs and forearms, dragging blood through the floor. Tears in her eyes nearly clouding the scene of her mother's dismembered corpse. The blank expression on her father's face. Most of all, she remembered the begging.

Please don't kill her like her mother. Please let her live. Please don't do this father.

But he did.

Fury plagued his eyes and it was as if the rage that consumed his body overcame the love he had for her. Even as the blade continued to slice through her, there was no sign of her father.

What a cruel way to go, being killed by someone who was supposed to protect you. Who was supposed to love you.

As he stared down at her dying body with hatred, Rin felt the wrath of her ancestors flow through her body, fueling the rage and betrayal she felt.

She would make her father pay. She would take her revenge: for her and her mother.

Even as the black cloud of death descended upon her, she felt the burn of anger in her veins, in the blood flowing freely from her body. But her vision was fading and a coldness had settled into her bones.

She was going to die by her father's hand unfairly. Everything she had done in life didn't matter anymore.

The months spent by her mother's side. The long hours of the lowly paying job. The nights desperately consoling her father and telling him it would be alright.

All of it. For nothing.

Rin felt one last flame of rage burn within her before her light was extinguished.

She knew that that the afterlife would be different from the living world, but what she hadn't expected was to find herself drifting through a realm that matched none of the descriptions she had been told about.

Everything was dark. Limbs the length her body stretched from everywhere. They seemed to have no end or beginning to them. Even more, they seemed to be alive in their own way, pulsating with dark energy.

Rin wasn't sure how long she sat trapped there, switching between overwhelming fury and shivering fear. She drifted through the darkness with nothing to tell her what day it was or how long she'd been there.

Finally, when she was on the bring of insanity, a voice spoke up.

"Do not worry, I am here to help, I promise," The sickeningly sweet voice murmured softly.

Despite the gentle tone, it scrapped against her ears. Though she herself could not be considered something to trust, Rin did not trust it the voice. Not at all. Whatever it was, it was not a creature of good nature.

"What do you want, 悪い人 ?" She growled, her accent thickening with each word.

"What I want doesn't matter. The real question is: what do you want, Rin Yamaoka?"

Though it frightened her that it knew her name, the question was enough to make her pause.

What did she want?

Rin wanted her father to suffer. She wanted to wield the rage passed down from generation to generation so that she could split him into pieces, just as he did her.

"Then come. I will give you the revenge you so rightly deserve. All you have to do is accept me. Let me in."

The one part of her that wasn't consumed with rage argued that this was a horrible idea. That whatever this thing was, it would only make her regret in the end. Whatever price she would have to pay would not be worth the revenge.

But her mother, she thought. Her poor, sick mother. She never even had a chance against her father.

The rage within her flared up, consuming every inch of her soul. A scream ripped itself from her throat as the anger took over completely. She could barely hear the malicious chuckle over her own voice.

"Go, my Spirit, go forth and release your wrath."

A fog began to roll in through the darkness, covering up the blackened limbs. Like some distorted version of a mirror, she looked into the smoke and watched as her reflection began to change.

Her complexion turned white as her long black hair rose into the air. The wild, untamed tendrils moving with a mind of their own. Each limb that had been cut from her body appeared again, hovering in the air with a distinct line of air between where it was supposed to be and where it was. Even the gashes on her side, though wiped of blood, were left untouched. Shards of thick glass sprung from her hands and legs, breaking the skin with a nauseating feeling. Her school uniform was burned from her body, leaving only yellowed wrappings to cover her. The very last thing to change was her eyes.

The dark irises began to glow a brilliant white. Beneath the depths, she could see seething bitterness. A hatred that burned bright. Rage passed down to her that she would wield against her own blood.

She growled, looking up through the fog.

There, floating in the air, was the katana passed down by her great-great-great grandfather. The one her father had used to..

"I wonder if you will use it the same way your father did. I wonder if you will cause him the same pain he caused you," The voice pondered.

She knew that it was taunting her but she was too far gone to care. Rin wanted blood.

Her slim, pale fingers wrapped around the katana's handle, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles went even paler.

Off to her right, the fog cleared into a pathway. Shining in the oval was her living room. It was like no time had passed for the real world because her father was still standing above her body, breathing heavy and covered in her blood.

Consumed by her anger, Rin rushed forward. She zipped in and out of view, slipping into the pockets of space between time. Though she knew had never been able to do it while she was alive, she did it as though she had been practicing since she was a child.

Her voice rose in wails and screeches, startling her father enough that he turned.

Immediately, he went pale, scrambling to move back. He tripped, falling on his bottom. It was a truly pathetic display to see him desperately try and scoot himself into a corner, trying to get as far away as possible.

"What an insignificant little rat," The voice commented.

The raspy, broken noises falling from her chapped lips angrily rose in pitch with agreement. Her body cracked grotesquely as each floating limb moved just slightly out of alignment for a second when she moved forward. Each step taking her in and out of existence. The step right before she got to her father found her with the katana in her pale, glass-laced hand. The very same one that had been used to take her own life.

"Yes, use your rage. Use your hurt. It will become your weapon and you in turn will become mine." It whispered softly in the confines of her mind.

Yes. Yes, that was a good idea.

The ancestors had given her strength. And now she would use that strength to kill her father.

She gave herself one last moment to take in everything.

The way his eyes clouded with fear. The miserable, pitiful whimpers. The darkened stain growing on his pants.

"Please Rin," He begged.

In her mind's eye, she heard the echoes of her own begs and how they fell on deaf ears. She remembered her death and how he did nothing to stop it.

A wicked, crooked smile stretched across her ghostly features. When she spoke, it sounded as if there more more voices than just her own. Each just as sadistic and harsh sounding as her.

"ここに慈悲はありません."

Rin swung the katana, blood splattering her face.

悪い人 - bad one or evil one

ここに慈悲はありません - there is no mercy here

Sorry about the google translate 😞 I didn't want to take away from Rin's heritage by making her speak english all the time.

[buttered-ghost-toast]

Listen, if you don't fill out all of those numbers and tell me everything about your MC I'm going to feel robbed

Oh geez, fam! ...aight. That took me a minute. But below you will find out more about my girl, Niri! 

1.      What is their favourite food?—

Cheeseburgers and carrots. 

2.       Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal? –

Not a fan of snakes, lizards, frogs, sharks.

3.       What do they wear to bed? –

Shorts and a t-shirt. Sometimes nothing at all!! That had to stop when she moved into the HoL though. Brothers poppin’ in at all hours gettin’ an eyeful. Lucifer was upset. 

4.       Do they like cuddling?—

1000000000%. Niri’s a big ol’ cuddle bug. Asmo’s all about it. So is Beel. 

5.       Do they have a secret handshake with anyone? -- With Astaroth. It’s quite elaborate and they only ever do it when they decide to get up to trouble.

 6.       What do they look like? – 

She cute if I may say so myselffff (don’t judge me, she’s a self insert hah!) Mid to slightly above average height for a human female, fairly toned. Brown eyes, mid-back length hair that’s brown at the root, fades to a teal and purple under layers. Sometimes her hair will fade to a light yellowy-green. She has the hookup for dye from Barbatos who likes to procure things for her from the human realm. She also has quite a few tattoos.

 7.       Do they like chocolate? –

Only dark. She’s allergic to additives in certain milk chocolates so she doesn’t eat it much. 

 8.      What are their good and bad traits?

Good: Helpful, kind, encouraging, quite a hard worker in any task given her.

Bad: Easily swept up into trouble by others, will prioritize naps over other stuff sometimes, awfully flirtatious which gets her in hot water with Lucifer because apparently lesser demons keep poppin’ by the house with gifts also HUMAN, DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO LORD DIAVOLO?! Oopsssssss~ Also, you know how Luci’s always doing the “MAAAAMMMOOOONNNNN…”…yeah, that’s almost always followed by “NIIIIIRIIIIIIIIII….”

 9.      Do they have any artistic talent?

Yes. She’s a musician so there’s that…and she likes to paint.

10.  What is their favourite room to be in, in the house they live in?

She likes the music room since the boys tend to spend quite a bit of time in there together, but she’s usually found in the kitchen making loads of food and baked goods…also, that’s where you’re more likely to find Beel, and she reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally likes Beel.

11.  Do they believe in luck?

To an extent. She believes that luck exists, but she thinks relying on it is a bit naïve.

12.  Can they do magic?

Like pull a rabbit out of a hat type thing? Yes. She picked up a few little tricks here and there from a friend who loves show magic. Def not the real stuff though.

13.  Do they believe in dragons?

She didn’t until she went to the Devildom. Not that they just have dragons hangin’ out all willy-nilly, but she’s heard stories from the brothers and others about dragons.

 14.  What is a pet peeve of theirs?

Rudeness and liars who don’t give up even after they’ve been caught in the lie. Also people who demand things of others as if they’re property and not living beings with feelings …this isn’t about Belphegor at all. Nope. She doesn’t have issues with him still.

15.  What was the last thing they cried about?

She was able to talk to all her bandmates at once for her weekly call home. They all just really miss each other, ok? It sucks that she has to lie to them about where she is because she knows they’re worried about her, but it was just nice to hear their voices.

16.  What is their sexuality?

Pan.

17.  Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend?

We’ll narrow this down to the Devildom. Niri gets along with everyone and literally loves all the beings she’s met and knows she could count on them for most anything, but there’s definitely a more solid feeling to her connection with Beelzebub. They sort of just get to be vulnerable and entirely open with one another and there is never judgement or ill will, even when Beel eats her secret snack stash…again.

 She’s kind of getting to that point with Astaroth as well, but she can sense he’s still a little guarded in certain aspects, and she’s not going to push.

18.  Have they ever been in a romantic relationship?

Yes, quite a few. It’s not her favorite thing to talk about since she’s been quite unlucky in that aspect, but hey, the past is the past.

19.  What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect.

Her actual family family (with the exception of her brother) are not close in the least. They’re sort of barely on speaking terms. Her chosen family (comprised of her band and some of the closest staff) is extremely close.

20.  Do they have a pet?

No. She loves animals and had a dog up until recently, but they passed. It’s okay though, they had a good long life and it wasn’t painful for them when it happened.

21.  Do they have a familiar?

Nope. Non-magical.

22.  Are they a supernatural being?

Nope! “Boring” human, but she does seem to always find herself in weird situations that are sorta paranormal.

23.  How do they usually wear their hair?

It really just depends on the day. If she had time to work on it, it’s down and straight. If it’s a rush in the morning (read: fight for the bathroom because Beel won’t MOVE) she’ll toss it in a bun or ponytail depending on how hot it is outside. There are the odd days when she’ll just let it vibe in its natural wavy/curly state, but she kind of got fed up with the brothers calling her a sheep because it’s so fluffy.

24.  Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play?

Yes! She learned guitar and bass at a young age and was tinkering with drums before she was whisked away to the Devildom.

25.  What type a high schooler are/were they?

She was the quiet weird kid that didn’t quite fit in with the weird weird crowd, but also wasn’t popular. Plenty of people knew her or of her, but she mainly stuck with her group of friends and was nice to everyone.

26.  Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Yes. Just small bits of violence. No one of import, tbh. But there was that one time they all went out to party at the fall and Mammon and Levi started teasing her and in her drunken state, Niri went to punch Mammon who managed to duck so she hit Levi square in the nose. He was fiiiiiiine.

27.  What is their favourite holiday?

Halloween because it’s fun, Christmas because of the togetherness, and EASTER BECAUSE MARSHMALLOW PEEPS!

 28.  If they could have one wish, what would they wish for?

A pass to go from the Devildom to the Human realm and back whenever she wants forever.

 29.  Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more?

No. Never.

 30.  Do they have a job?

Yes? Being a singer in a band is a job, right? It doesn’t always feel like a job because it’s awesome, but it’s a job.

 31.  Do they know how to drive?

Yes. She has convinced Mammon to let her drive his car on a few occasions and every time they get back he swears NEVER AGAIN. She a little speed demon.

 32.  Do they get stressed out easily?

Funny story, actually…YES. But she is pretty good at not letting it show. So on the outside she’s like la-la-la~ but inside it’s all AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~~~

 33.  Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it?

Absolutely lol. Niri has gone through a few colors in her life, but her favorite is and always will be the teal. (Fun fact: the purple came from a happy accident a few years back when she dyed over a pink shade and a layer turned out purple. She liked it so now she does it that way on purpose.)

 34.  Have they ever broken the law?

Never anything egregious, but she’s gotten tickets for stuff in the human world. Disturbing the peace, speeding, she was fined once (along with her bandmates) for a surprise free show they did in front of a train station which got a lot more attention than they were expecting and wound up shutting down a couple city blocks. Oooooooooopsss~

 35.  Do they own a plant?

She’s really bad with plants. REALLY bad. She was gifted a plant by Simeon a couple weeks into the exchange program and it took an embarrassingly long time for her to notice it was a fake plant…since he knows she sucks at keeping things alive.

 36.  Have they ever rode a horse before?

Once, and it was a terrifying experience so she just keeps her distance now.

 37.  What is their favorite gif?

anything featuring Titus Andromedon.

 38.  Do they get along with others easily?

 She tries to. It’s not always possible, but she tries, dammit!

 39.  Do they have any tattoos?

Several, yes. One arm sleeve done, starting the other arm, both thighs have massive pieces on them and both ribs done as well. There are also a few small things on her fingers and back.

 40.  If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

Lotta hair. Looooooottttta hair. And heavily winged eyeliner. Big lashes.

 41.  What is their favourite breed of dog?

Huskies. They’re just so cute and sassy! And perfectly sized!! Great cuddle buddies and fun to run with!

 42.  Do they live with anyone? If so, who?

Not in the human world, but she’s got 7 kinda irritating roomies in the Devildom!

 43.  Where is their dream vacation?

She’s traveled extensively, so there isn’t anywhere she dreams of going that she hasn’t already seen. Her favorite place is anywhere mountainous and lush.

 44.  Do they know more than one language?

Yep. Niri’s a language nerd. Because she likes to speak to fans and stuff, she has set it on herself to learn as many languages as she can. She’s not perfectly fluent in all of them, but it’s a good handful that she can hold a full conversation in. She and Satan like to practice with one another around the house, despite complaints from the others.

 45.  Are they a quick learner?

Depends. Most things, yes…..math and processes requiring math, NO.

 46.  Have they ever won a contest before? If so, what for? What did they win?

No, she’s not really the luck having type.

 47.  If the world were to end in 24 hours, where would they be and who would they be with?

Probably hugging Beel. They hug often. They’re kinda always together. It’s gross according to Leviathan and Belphegor.

 48.  What does their room look like?

She didn’t change much in the room she was given at the HoL. Just added her fake plant from Simeon and a few human things…she actually got the “Hang in There” kitty poster just for kicks. Lucifer hates it.

 49.  If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have?

A dodo bird. Because they’re weird and cool.

 50.  If they got called out by someone, what would they do?

Laugh and argue probably. Depends what they’re calling her out on.

51.  Have they ever shot a gun before?

Yep. Actually enjoys shooting, it’s a fun stress reliever. She makes a point to drop by shooting ranges every once in a while back home.

 52.  Have they ever been axe throwing?

Once at a renaissance festival on an odd week of downtime. She didn’t do so well. The throwing was fine, but she never hit the target. Just be glad she didn’t hit a person either!

 53.  What is something that they want but can’t have?

At the moment, all the people she loves in one place.

 54.  Do they know how to fish?

Nope! She’s a mess with that kind of thing. Also, she doesn’t like the idea of fishing for anything herself. It makes her cry to think of the fish on the hook :<.

 55.  What is something they always wanted to do but too scared?

Hmm…Niri tries to live her life in a way that she won’t have regrets, so even if something is scary, she’ll pluck up the courage to do it. But…she still hasn’t jumped out of a plane.

 56.  Do they own their own baby pictures?

Absolutely not. She cringes thinking of the outfits her parents used to put her in, so she did her best to keep those kinds of things buried and acts like they never existed. Nope. Was never a baby. Nope.

 57.  What makes them standout among others?

Niri is a pro at pretending she’s confident, so she tends to draw attention when she walks in a room like she owns the place. Also her hair is kinda bright.

 58.  Do they like to show off?

Not really. She’s flamboyant in a sense, but she doesn’t go out of her way to call attention or to be center stage…heh.

 59.  What is their favourite song?

She can never pick, honestly. There are so many songs that are so amazing!

 60.  What would be their dream vehicle?

That’s a very good question. Probably something sitting in her garage back home. Probably being driven by one of her bandmates. Because hey, what are friends for?

 61.  What is their favourite book?

Not that she isn’t a big reader, but she doesn’t really get the time to enjoy books. There’s always something that needs attention or someplace to be and she’s required to engage, so focusing on a book or story is hard, but she’s a fan of classic novels, poetry, and Greek tragedies are always good!

 62.  Who, in their opinion, makes the best food?

She likes everything Barbatos makes and thinks Luke’s desserts are fantastic, but there’s something about a human recipe that just warms her heart, so…..herself. Lol.

 63.  Are they approachable?

Absolutely! If you can get past her intimidating resting face.

 64.  Did they ever change their appearance?

Not drastically, but she has gone through a few different phases until settling on a good one.

65.  What makes them smile?

The silliness of those around her. Thinking of good memories with family/friends. Puppies.

 66.  Do they like glowsticks?

Yes. She has a stockpile of glowsticks that the brothers keep adding to.

 67.  What is something that is simple, but always makes them smile?

Watching the brothers bicker, even if it’s getting out of hand. It reminds her of her friends and how they always pick on one another.

 68.  Are they a day or night person?

Night, usually. Not that she dislikes the daytime, but day usually has so much stuff to be done whereas night is the fun stuff that doesn’t need a schedule.

 69.  Are they allergic to anything?

Some milk chocolate, bell peppers, and certain devildom plants.

 70.  What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

She’s a spunky little thing who loves to have fun and make others smile above all else.

 71.  Who is their ride or die?

In the Devildom, Beelzebub and Astaroth.

Beel for most things, and Asta for the stuff Beel won’t do.

 72.  Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one?

Erm…eh…look, it’s never been officially labeled or anything, ok? Like yeah they’re kind always together and have pet names for each other and like always touch and cuddle and like snuggle up in bed together and stuffffffffffff but like, idk? Is Beel her dude? Like….do we wanna even get into that?????? I mean, maybe someday? Like…what? What was the question??

 73.  What attracts them to another person?

A genuine heart, a killer smile, and a rockin’ bod. Yeah okay look everyone can be a little shallow sometimes okay get off her case >__<.  

 74.  Who is one person that can always make them laugh?

She’s a damn fool and will laugh at ANYTHING, so it’s not hard. Everyone makes her laugh. The girl will 9 times out of 10 laugh at herself for the dumbest moments.

 75.  Have they ever partied too hard and their friends had to take them home?

Oh yes many times. Many many times.  One of the first few times she hung out (went on a date) one-on-one with Beel they had a drinking contest and as it turns out, he can really hold his devil liquor.

 76.  Who would be their cuddle buddy?

She’ll cuddle up to Beel 99.9% of the time because he’s big and warm and always happy to hold, but she also really enjoys cuddling with Asmodeus. He’s such a sweetie and he smells so nice and they just snuggle and talk and laugh and it’s a nice escape. (Loads of times there are Asmo x Niri x Asta sandwiches in Asmo’s room.)

 77.  Who would cheer them up after a long day?

She tends to go to one of the brothers depending on what kind of day it’s been. Most of the time it’s gonna be Beel because again, big/warm/happy to hold her, but there are occasions where she’ll drag Beel to one of the others’ rooms and they’ll just hang out.

 78.  If they had a nightmare, who would they run to?

I mean…Beel. Lol. He’s right there.

 79.  What object to the care for the most?

She has a picture of her friends from back home that sits on her desk. She treasures that above all while she’s down in the Devildom.

 80.  Do they like other people’s children?

Sure. Kids are fine as long as they go back to their parents after a bit.

 81.  How would they react if someone broke into their home?

Seeing as there’s always someone coming into her room regardless if she’s there or not, she probably would just shrug it off. If someone decided to have a bad lapse in judgement and break into the HoL? She wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

 82.  Does anyone make them have butterflies in their stomach?

I mean….Beel. Lol. He so big and cute! Also Diavolo because he also big and cute.

 83.  What is something that they are good at?

Crying to get out of trouble. She’s a little shit. Lol.

 84.  What is their neutral expression?

Niri kinda always looks pissed off or uninterested?  Until she smiles and you realize oh, she’s just a big ol’ faker.

 85.  Do they like to cook?

Yes. It’s one of her very favorite things to do!

 86.  What is something they can’t leave home without?

Her phone! (and Beel) but like, there’s just so much a phone can do!

 87.  Who is someone that they rely on?

Have I mentioned ever that Simeon is (or was at one time) Niri’s guardian angel? He seems to always be there and ready to help in any way, so she’s pretty reliant on him and hopes he feels the same toward her. (He does. Cue uwu’s)

 88.  Do they liked to be tickled?

Absolutely not. She’s extremely ticklish and hates being tickled. She flails and cries.

 89.  Have they ever been a sword fight before?

No. No she has not lol. Unless empty wrapping paper tubes count? She’s done that.  

 90.  What is a joke that they would find funny?

All the bad ones. All of them. Ugly laugh here we go!

 91.  Do they have a place that can go and turn off their brain?

The gardens at RAD. It’s peaceful and there’s a great  view of the sky.

 92.  What was their childhood like?

Not bad, but not memorable. There was a lot of pressure put on her to be a perfect kid, and she didn’t get to have a whole ton of fun.

 93.  What are they like as an adult?

Responsible, but definitely fun-loving. Like I mentioned before, she likes to live in a way that she won’t ever regret not having done something she wanted to do, or regret any actions she took, so she’s always got an open mind and welcomes new experiences. She’s a big ol’ kid.

 94.  Do they take criticism well?

Yes. She welcomes criticism in any form as she is always looking to be the best person she can be.

 95.  Have they ever jumped out of a plane?

No. Not yet!

 96.  Who do they like to make jokes with?

Literally anyone. A total joker. Big big clown.

 97.  Have you ever drawn them before? If you are comfortable with it, would you post a picture?

Yes! I draw Niri every once in a while. I actually need to draw her again soon! I miss that girl.