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indigenousandnativewaysofbeing · 1 year

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4.3 Multimodal Redesign

image: 2022 Max Löffler, illustration for Bandcamp Daily

Introduction:

An overarching theme for my unit projects is how white people in tech have historically neglected accurate elements of a racialized society. For my multimodal redesign, I’d like to take my most recent unit project, “How Are Tech Companies Responsible for Racist AI?” and expand on how data that is discriminatory or unrepresentative of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color creates inaccurate algorithms. I chose this topic because it is honestly astounding to me that the public, that is, the average internet user, is made to be unaware of how algorithms are not simply objective. First, there is a piece by Megan Garcia that I’ve chosen as one of my scholarly sources. It’s titled “Racist in the Machine: The Disturbing Implications of Algorithmic Bias,” and it tells the story of a Twitter bot designed by Microsoft named Tay. Tay went from a happy helper to a “racist Holocaust denier” in the span of twenty-four hours. With Garcia’s piece, I will analyze how AI is tested in isolated, controlled environments that rely on a select few coder’s biases. Then, I’ll expand on what exactly this does, its consequences, and possible solutions. The next scholarly source I’m adding is a piece by James Zou and Londa Schiebinger titled “AI can be sexist and racist — it’s time to make it fair.” The work analyzes ImageNet, a large visual database designed for visual object recognition software research. ImageNet receives 45% of its data from the United States alone, which Zou and Schiebinger argue is under representative of the world at large.

image: The ArchAndroid, album by Janelle Monáe

Literature Review:

“Race After Technology” is a book by Ruha Benjamin that focuses specifically on internet-based technologies according to the “New Jim Code.” Such technologies include the modern creation and usage of facial recognition software, predictive crime algorithms, and even soap dispensers. Benjamin analyzes the tech, claiming it's hastily fastened and is less of a marker of societal progression and more of an irresponsibly coded software. Benjamin has specifically talked about the MIT scientists who have avoided programming aspects of gender, class, and race in an attempt to create robots without bias.

Olga Akselrod, writer of “How Artificial Intelligence Can Deepen Racial and Economic Inequities,” talks about how AI is touted as a “smart economic investment for the future.” But she asks for who? The author continues with several instances of how AI has caused discriminatory harm, including housing discrimination, lack of representation in data, and racial profiling in job screenings.

“What Really Happened When Google Ousted Timnit Gebru” is an article written by Tom Simonite that describes the work culture of non-white ethicists who research the effects of tech. The article examines a back-and-forth between Gebru and a Google executive.

Gerrit De Vynck and Will Oremus, authors of “As AI Booms, Tech Firms Are Laying Off Their Ethicists,” write about Twitch streamers who claim the platform has a racial bias. Next, they discuss various social platforms that have cut their ethics and social teams.

“Pause Giant AI Experiments” is an open letter from the Future of Life Institute. It calls for all AI labs to stop the production of AI systems exceeding the capability of GPT-4. It also calls for at least six months of training for such systems. The AI systems in question are defined as “human-competitive” in intelligence. The open letter claims that such systems can pose “profound risks to society and humanity.”

“Racist in the Machine” is an essay by Megan Garcia that challenges unconscious and institutional biases that fly under the radar of companies and governments. She discusses “distorted data,” “cybersecurity,” and “crowd-level” monitoring.

James Zou and Londa Schiebinger, writers of “AI Can Be Sexist and Racist— It’s Time to Make it Fair,” call for the importance of recognizing sources of bias and de-bias training.

image: Debra Yepa-Pappan Live Long & Prosper, Spock was a Half Breed, 2008

Discussion:

White coders, who are over-representative of implicit bias, exist in conditions that only compound the racism found therein. Black, Indigenous, and People of color are, therefore, underrepresented not only in terms of accurate data but of literal population in tech companies. Coders at an individual level and companies alike need to understand that colorblind ideology is inevitably complacent with racism.

For starters, Nikon is programmed to see Asian eyes as always blinking, sending an alert to its user (Zou and Schiebinger). Microsoft and Twitter don’t see the point in continuing ethical research of AI (Vynck and Oremus). Google buries unsavory research on its social and ethical ramifications (Simonite). There aren’t enough Black, Indigenous, and People of Color employed by tech companies (Akselrod). Twitter bot Tay, a Microsoft algorithm, started out as a playful, childlike newbie of Earth, only to utter outlandish statements like “[feminists] should all die and burn in hell” (Garcia). Garcia suggests the reason why this bot took in ideologies of racism, bigotry, and xenophobia is that it's isolated in creation. It has zero experience with the spectrum of humans that roam this Earth. What’s worse is how these isolated and controlled environments perform.

MIT's data scientists work hard to construct robots without gender, class, or race (Benjamin).

Quote: While the robots indeed were “servants” and “workers,” MIT scientists referred to them as “friends and children, addressing them in “class-avoidant” terms (42). Programmers decided not to input the varying histories of racism, transphobia, and misogyny that made them uncomfortable. Benjamin states this colorblind, class-blind, and gender-blind approach merely serves as “another avenue for coding inequity” (42).

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While this kind of care for Black, Indigenous, and People of color is often described as covert, I argue that it is most often worse than undisguised modes of racism. It becomes almost impossible to name and stop discriminatory AI when it matches human intelligence on a mass scale. There is comfort in being on top. Receiving the daily privileges that make life as a white person so bearable determines why it is difficult for white coders to recognize white power. It’s easier to leave these histories out. It’s easier not to have to examine why we don’t feel the need to include dark-skinned people in image data software.

image: Cover detail of Grace Dillon, Walking the Clouds: An Anthology of Indigenous Science Fiction (University of Arizona Press, 2012). Art by Beth Dillon.

Conclusion:

Akselrod says, “The tech industry’s lack of representation of people who understand and can work to address the potential harms of these technologies only exacerbates [racist AIs]” (1). Because we live in a racialized society, one with histories of slavery and colonization, there is an unconscious bias inherently in the minds of white people. There is no way for us to have accurate histories and representations of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color without involving them in mass quantities in the process of AI development. That’s the very first step that needs to be taken. Relinquishment of the white leader.

Bibliography

Akselrod, Olga. “How Artificial Intelligence Can Deepen Racial and Economic Inequities: ACLU.” American Civil Liberties Union,https://www.aclu.org/news/privacy-technology/how-artificial-intelligence-can-deepen-racial-and-economic-inequities.

Benjamin, Ruha. Race after Technology: Abolitionist Tools for the New Jim Code, Polity Press, 2019.

Garcia, Megan. “Racist in the Machine: The Disturbing Implications of Algorithmic Bias.” Duke University Press, Duke University Press, 1 Dec. 2016, https://read.dukeupress.edu/world-policy-journal/article-abstract/33/4/111/30942/Racist-in-the-MachineThe-Disturbing-Implications.

“Pause Giant AI Experiments: An Open Letter.” Future of Life Institute, 21 Apr. 2023, https://futureoflife.org/open-letter/pause-giant-ai-experiments/.

Simonite, Tom. “What Really Happened When Google Ousted Timnit Gebru.” Wired, Conde Nast, 8 June 2021, https://www.wired.com/story/google-timnit-gebru-ai-what-really-happened/.

Vynck, Gerrit De, and Will Oremus. “As AI Booms, Tech Firms Are Laying off Their Ethicists.” The Washington Post, WP Company, 3 Apr. 2023, https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/03/30/tech-companies-cut-ai-ethics/.

Zou, James, and Londa Schiebinger. “AI Can Be Sexist and Racist - It's Time to Make It Fair.” Nature News, Nature Publishing Group, 18 July 2018, https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-018-05707-8.

#raceaftertechnology #Youtube

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haroldgross · 1 year

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New Post has been published on Harold Gross: The 5a.m. Critic

New Post has been published on http://literaryends.com/hgblog/avatar-the-way-of-water/

Avatar: The Way of Water

[3 stars]

Welcome to your Pandora travelogue, part two. Let’s face it, like the first in the franchise this is primarily just a technologically jaw-dropping wonder. Even though this round has a real emotional journey and a script that doesn’t make you constantly cringe (this time you only cringe occasionally) it still isn’t a great movie. And, by design, you definitely exit it feeling bad about our species. It isn’t an unfair take on reality (nor is it overly original) but it tackles its points without blinking.

But it still isn’t a great movie. Even having changed the reasons for invading Pandora (with apologies to Dune), it’s diverting, at best. We’ve seen these stories over the years many times. We’ve seen them done better, if not as gorgeously. I’m not saying it isn’t worth it…again like the first, seeing it for the advancements in film and effects alone is worth the price of the amusement park ride. Even at over 3 hours I didn’t get bored.

Though, interestingly, despite the many wondrous environs and astounding battles and pleasure rides, I still found some of the CGI to be wanting. The effects houses still can’t seem to get faces to move right for my eyes. Especially the mouths. Eyes are pretty good and capture some real emotion, but when speaking, it all looks, well, plastic most of the time to me. Very distracting when all the rest is so photo-realistic and it kept pulling me out of my state of acceptance.

I’m also going to skip over the appropriation challenges of the story where a white man has changed into a blue one to save everyone. It’s the story as it was and there is no way out of it, though I seem to recall conversations about that issue back then too.

But you don’t go Avatar for a good movie, you go to be wowed. And that it provides. So go, gawk, and, well, go. I can’t say the story is going to stick with me, though I can see where they are taking a couple of the main character arcs into the next three sequels. Can the franchise sustain the wonder that keeps bringing in the crowds? I don’t know, but at least the scripts seem to keep improving.

#3stars #Action #craft #Fantasy #Political Drama #popcorn #Science Fiction #SeeIt #sequel #Movie Review

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sacriou · 2 years

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Magoboyo!! My favorite character- my bias definitely gets in the way of my work… unlike a good amount of the others I have a few tidbits of gijinka lore if anyone is interested!!

-For starters the cat hes based off of is a Norwegian forest cat! They are absolutely huge.

-Magolor started off actually as a type of selkie- where if he were to remove his cloak he would no longer keep a humanoid form! (A concept I HAVENT completely dropped but I’m not sure what else to do with it)

-his cloak/cape is made of a much thicker heavier material! This helps keep him grounded easier when traveling and also in areas pf varrying gravities during his travels. His hood is thicker so he can protect his hears! (They can be sensitive to sounds)

-speaking of sounds he’s put up with a lot- I imagine outside of tinkering and engineering he also picked up blacksmithing around the time of Kirby clash deluxe! (I like to imagine he makes all the items himself- he needed a hobby to keep him busy since he’s a workaholic)

-the little apron is totally optional on this design, mostly added for the blacksmithing tid bit

-the little pouches he carry’s around have spare tools- I imagine he’s constantly working on multiple projects and constantly misplaces his things (also convenient for on the go fixes)

-this loser is kind of a hermit- if it wasn’t for him having such a profitable opportunity as a shop keeper he’d go out even less- he has all his projects kept in the lor and is constantly busy tinkering and inventing if he’s feeling up to it! He smells like oil.

- magolor is from halcandra and of course the temperatures there are very extreme- but his range of tolerance is slowly adjusting to the much cooler temperatures of pop star (and space). Usually on his home planet he wouldn’t wear the cloak and cape and gloves, maybe a sleeveless shirt instead of his usual top? But the rest is the same

-speaking of his clothes his gloves aren’t just to keep him warm- they also double as work gloves! He can handle hotter temperatures but when he’s smithing or soldiering he’d rather not burn his finger. (He can totally handle it- it won’t hurt him as bad as say if a human or whatever held molten metal, but it would leave him with an annoying burn that would get in the way of his work) also protects him from blisters and cuts from the tools he uses

- this is the part when I talk about him eating the rocks LMAO- my thought process was this- halcandras extreme landscape is totally incapable for hosting much flora- not enough to feed a whole population anyways- so what else is there to eat besides a meat based diet? (He’s still mostly carnivorous I think) well lord of intense heat and pressure is the perfect environment for rich gems and minerals to form! He’s an alien species anyways- imagine if the gems were formed at a much faster rate due to the extreme environment and so their structure is much weaker and thinner (think graphite), meaning they could break apart much easier. Say magolor had a digestive system that could handle minerals in this form it would be another source of nutrients (it’s far fetched as hell but the idea of pebble boy chomping on a rock makes me laugh)

- speaking of the gem apples being his food- when he found out how scarce gems were on pop star due to how they didn’t form as fast or as often, he figured what the hell and started a buissness from it! (He got a new hobby and a source of income- more money to fund his projects)

-speaking of his projects again his knowledge in the maths and sciences is beyond impressive- not to mention whatever his studies of the ancients brings him. He’s actually well awuanted with Susie too- she actually commissions him for some projects since his engineering abilities are so astounding and his research is beyond valuable to her (this comes at a heft cost at her end but she’s had to accept the fact that magolor dosent work for cheap). Also his knowledge and experience with the lor and ancient technology is a whole other asset

- I’m rambling ever more lol! Magolor has a berry strong bond with the lor- she has a lot of respect to him for all he does to keep her up and running and bringing her back from essential being shut down, magolor also has lots of respect for the lor star cutter and all she is-

-I imagine their relationship is the lor is kinda like a babysitter or guardian- but also in a casual way? Like they bicker or argue (yes he will argue with a boat- she dosent have a voice or anything but actions speak louder than words here) but not out of like spite or anything! Just friendly banter- or like maybe the lor would shut off his computer when it gets too late and he needs rest, to which he would jump and fuss but got the message to just rest up (don’t worry his files were fine she just shut off the screen lmao)

-yes she also locked him out every so often when he avoids doing something and won’t let him back in until he does it (he’s over dramatic about it but eventually goes out and does it)

Congrats THATS the whole info dump rn- I probably have more but I’m not bothered to fix this up yet- I have more on my Insta that’s more thought out but this is just for now kinda silly stuff

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rouiettes · 3 years

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raya and the ugliest fucking dragon i've ever seen holy fuck who the hell thought to give a dragon fuckiNG EYEBROWS WHY WHY—

aka the musings of a filo non-binary bisexual who feels victimized by the dragon designs of this fucking movie supposedly centred around THE LAST DRAGON???? MAYBE THEY SHOULD HAVE STAYED STONE GDI WHAT THE FUCK SERIOUSLY WHY DO THE DRAGONS LOOK LIKE THAT

let's get one thing straight.

none of the characters in this movie. rest assured. not a single straight person was in this movie. trust me.

raya and the last dragon had all the foundations of a good movie

IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO GREAT

BUT IT WASNT

AND HERE'S WHY

(in my humble opinion okay pls dont come for me)

a disney movie with sea culture at its heart and soul, i was so hyped to finally watch this movie

(not as hyped as i could have been tho bc let's be honest DISNEY DID SHIT WITH RAYA'S MARKETING)

(AND PERHAPS FOR GOOD REASON LOL I SWEAR I DONT HATE THIS MOVIE OKAY)

you had the amazing score, the amazing concepts for plot and characters, the solid solid worldbuilding???

if you just told me about how raya's setting and premise, i'd probably be "wow this movie sound like the whole package"

and then i'll actually watch the movie and have just as much trust issue as raya did :/

but i digress

A DISNEY MOVIE WITH SEA CULTURE AT ITS HEART AND SOUL

do you know how diverse sea culture is??? VERY

and one thing i was very happy to see was how raya handled it

it was by no means perfect but

the subtle shows of culture in the way the characters acted, and the environment of the movie was just CHEF'S KISS

not only that but the ideas the movie had in terms of its world and the people in it felt genuine, it felt alive

a dragon that isn't the typical fire-breathing lizard

characters who look like they could easily be my neighbours or children i've played with

instead of pandering to this movie felt like an actual homage to sea cultures

and for good reason bc seeing all those familiar names rolling in the credits had me feeling some type of way :")

also that fucking soundtrack gave me chills throughout my watch of the movie

okay now that we've got the things i actually like about the movie, let's talk about what i don't like

if there's one word i could use to describe disney's raya it would be: rushed

like i said in the beginning, all the groundwork for an astounding disney movie were already there

but all of it just goes to waste bc the plot and it's characters feel so Unfinished

the movie felt like a bullet-point presentation of the story

WHICH IS SO FUCKING DISAPPOINTING BC THE CHARACTERS SEEMED SO INTERESTING but all we got were shadows of what they could have been

cardboard cutouts of the archetypes they filled

i'm not asking for a bottomless well of depth, but i at least wanted more for the cast than just: angry misunderstood princess, angry misunderstood princess with an undercut, that one dancing kid from moana but with more spice, boss baby, and the mountain

and i get that they had to sacrifice some of their depth to keep the run time of the movie short but you have got to be better than this disney

i hate to compare but it felt like this movie tried to go beyond what moana gave us, and shot so far that it ended up back to where it started, and then stumbled back a few steps

AND IM NOT EVEN SAYING A DRAGON MOVIE WITH A BIG CAST IS IMPOSSIBLE

BC IT'S ALREADY BEEN DONE

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON DID IT THREE TIMES

and you'd think the plot for one of the few disney movies with a non-western setting would have more than just a macguffin considering how batshit sea folk tales can be

but you'd think wrong folks.

GENUINELY IT FELT LIKE THEY WERE ATTEMPTING SOMETHING BUT WERE SHORT OF BRINGING IT TO FRUITION

sure moana had a macguffin too with the heart of te fiti, but the heart itself wasn't the heart of the movie

it was the journey of moana and maui

it was that BEAUTIFUL TWIST WITH TE KA AND TE FITI

ALL DELIVERED WITH A NATURAL FINESSE THAT HAD YOU ON THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT

YOU WERE ALONG FOR THE RIDE OF THE STORY INSTEAD OF QUESTIONING EVERYTHING THAT WAS GOING ON LIKE I WAS

maybe this was just me but like, i felt so bad for the friend who watched this movie with me bc all i could go on and on was how the plot felt like it was getting in the way of itself

why didn't the different kingdoms (??) kept the gem in rotation or smth, when did they decide that heart would keep it and then get mad at heart for keeping it????

why didn't awkwafina dragon just show herself to the kingdoms bc everyone seems to be in agreement that dragons good right? that they would be the key to getting rid of the druun right??? SO THEY'D ALL AT LEAST HEAR HER OUT OR SMTH RIGHT????????

and yes raya has trust issues but it seems to only spring up at the most convenient times plot-wise, we didn't really see her learn to trust other people again OTHER THAN THE TIMES WHERE SISU WOULD HAMFISTEDLY SHOVE IT DOWN OUR THROATS THAT SOME PEOPLE ARE GOOD SOMETIMES RAYA

we see it with boun, but then she just trusts noi, her monkeys, and tong THE GUY WHO STRUNG THEM UP AND WAS THREATENING TO TORTURE THEM????????

i'm gonna be honest and say that if it weren't for namaari i'd have absconded the moment sisu came on screen

as far as i'm considered the actual plot of the movie is just the entire sword fight scene between her and raya

and finally

we get to the part i will be erasing from my brain for my own mental well-being

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DRAGON DESIGN

WHY OH WHY TH E FUCK DOES SISU SOUND AND LOOK LIKE THAT

my friend said they looked like the ponies from mlp in 3d AND NOW I CAN NEVER UNSEE IT

THEY HAVE EYEBROWS THEY HAVE HUMAN FACES

HUMAN FACES ON MAJESTIC DRAGON BODIES

THE INTERNET HAS COLLECTIVELY DECIDED THAT SISU IS BASICALLY FURRY ELSA

every time we got a sisu close up i lost 5 years to my life

disney i am suing for damages

if you want me to drop the charges i demand raya 2: electric boogaloo but it’s just raya and namaari enemies to friends to lovers ark

and also for them to never say dragon nerds ever again

AGAIN. HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON GAVE US BEAUTIFUL DRAGON DESIGNS. HELL IF YOU WANTED MORE EASTERN LOOKING DRAGONS FUCKING SPIRITED AWAY??? HAKU??????????

AND YKNOW WHAT. SISU WOULDN'T EVEN LOOK THAT HORRIFIC IF THE MOVIE WAS IN 2D

im not the first person to be side-eying disney's decision to keep pumping out these 3d movies but like.

no amount of added dimensions could ever make that dragon design okay

and there so many more points i could go off on to show how this movie was rushed

how the other dragons, and even sisu's siblings whom she had been missing for the entire movie DIDNT MAKE A SINGLE SOUND???? NOT EVEN A FUCKING GROWL DISNEY???? DID YOU EVEN TRY WITH THE DRAGONS AT ALL??? THE SUPPOSED CENTRE OF THIS MOVIE'S PLOT?????????

HOW THE CHIEFS OF THE OTHER KINGDOMS WERE BASICALLY PLOT DEVICES????

THAT ONE CHIEF'S SKELETON WAS MORE INTERESTING THAN ANY OF THEM COMBINED ALIVE

kudos to that one granny chief though

u can never have enough bad ass old ladies

AND GOD THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS JUST FELT SO FORCED

ALONG WITH WHATEVER LESSON SISU WANTED TO IMPART ABOUT TRUST

LOVE THESE CHARACTERS THEY ARE FUNNY THEY ARE FRIENDS FOUND FAMILY

TRUST PEOPLE IF U WANT THEM TO TRUST U

TRUST PEOPLE OR ILL LITERALLY FUCKING KILL U

children aren't stupid disney. if you tell your story well enough, they'll pick up on the messages you want to give them. YOU DONT HAVE TO THRUST EVERYTHING IN OUR FACES

i was exhausted by the time i finished this movie

bc i really wanted to love it. i wanted to feel more for it than just: well, it's a movie :)

i dont hate this movie though like it's not even worth the energy for that

i think that ultimately, despite all my issues with it, this movie was a step in the right direction when it comes to having non-western stories being told by non-western people in big name productions

i'm glad raya and the last dragon exists

i just can't help but be dissapointed though bc this movie put so much effort into putting my people and culture at its forefront but at what cost???

good characters and story for a good setting and design????

does it have to be one or the other?????

DOES THE DRAGON HAVE TO HAVE EYEBROWS??????

#disney #raya and the last dragon #raya #namaari #rayaari #ratld #♡ ☆#posted this without ranting in the tags #i jsut have so many feelings abt this movie okay like gosh #THATS WHY I WANTE D IT TO MAKE ME LOSE IT #AND I DID JUST NOT IN THE WAY I WANTED TO #FUCK YOU SISU

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yamagucji · 3 years

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love letters from cupid.

dear lovely anons,

i cherish every bit of interaction we have. im extremely grateful to know that there are people out there who read and enjoy my works. hm, hope you know that i care about each of you. honestly sometimes i just wanna make a post dedicated to each of you but idk!! if you’ll see it or not. hopefully this bit is enough to let you know how much i appreciate every single one of you. thank you.

dear readers,

thank you for reading my works. it’s comforting to know that there are people out there who will check out something that i’ve slapped on together with every bit of my effort. to those of you who have consistently supported my works in silence- you know who you are. im just... keeping my distance because ya’ll are really just minding your own business while i get giddy about seeing you pop up in my notifications again. im hoping to get around and send a ty note to as many special readers n special ppl on this blog. but im a little shy, so i hope you’ll give me some time. seeing you in my notifications from time to time makes me happy; sometimes i do wonder if you’re still here and in good health. i hope you all are right now. thank you.

dear dani,

what a wonderful being you are. never regretting the first time i *shyly* asked if there was anyone that wanted to be friends here. i probably already talk about my love for you and vera so much but who’s gonna stop me? you’re such a cool person. i look up to you (literally). i think it’s amazing to get to know a person who has a lot of passion for history like me. but also- screams about 2d men with me. truthfully, this site is much more bearable having you as a moot. i feel very comfortable talking to you, about anything at all. lomve you, you’re the best.

dear mayya,

kindness personified. im sure you’ve made a plethora of people smile with every rb and comment you’ve given; including me. i think it’s very refreshing to see such genuine comments. you radiate this calm aura that im always seeking for. thank you, for providing me (and many other people) with that. a little embarrassing that you see my uhm, messy sideblog, but... it’s comforting i think. to know that someone is listening. i hope that you understand it goes the other way around too— that i’m here for you.

dear hrituja,

my partner of chaos. when did it start? i can’t remember. all i know is that every little thing you send me on instagram really makes my day. i’ll have bad days and all i need to do is look at the silly stuff you sent me and get a laugh out of it. i think it’s cool that we’ve been able to build this space where we can talk about anything (literally), poke fun of each other, and also ourselves. you’re cool. i genuinely like hearing you go off about ace. if i could meet a moot it’d probably be you unless you’re secretly a fraud and you’re actually just a 80 yr old man looking for a sugar babie. in that case im in.

dear oz,

you overly sweet bean. i genuinely watch you in awe from afar, just by how talented and hardworking you are. your art is amazing, and i always look forward to the design you make for your oc’s outfits. thank you for understanding me, and for being patient with me. i care about you a lot, so if there’s ever anything that’s occupying your mind and you need to let them out, i’m here to listen. ps. i really don’t know any other mutual who listens to *that* comfort stuff like i do so im really thankful to have someone to talk about them with. you can always share your interests with me too, especially with your dearest tendou.

dear tate,

im such in awe of you. just the fact that you devote a lot of your time into writing and setting up the theme for your blog astounds me. not to mention, your art skills as well. i am still very much in love with that bokuto piece you made with the hanging leaves. i hope you know that bokuto loves you just as much as you do to him. i know you’re writing up something special atm, so i’m really looking forward to it. thank you for all the time you’ve spared just to send me an ask. it truly does mean a lot to me. it feels like someone is listening, and i’m very appreciative of having you as my dear mutual. please know that i’m here to support you too, with the best of my abilities.

dear winx club,

[ @wissbby @kageruna @pinkbunnyplushie @astrooliver @lovingtobio @kenmaki @lfjr @lcsbianist ]

im such a clutz, but thank you for dealing with me. i was little nervous to start up such a discord server because im bad at staying in one. though, the warm environment that you all provide makes me feel much more at ease. i think it’s funny popping in to the server and seeing a few people spamming the chat with hugs, headpats and kisses. it’s sweet, too. being in a group discord can get overwhelming for some people, so i appreciate you all for having that patience. another thing- thank you for understanding each other’s boundaries. its hard to be aware all the time especially when you’re interacting with people you don’t know to at a very personal level. im glad that you all helped each other make the space comfy. i look forward to more chaotic and genuine talks with all of you in the future. maybe we’ll still be in touch with each other after a long while? who knows. but im going to cherish every single moment i get with you all.

dear @nishinoya-is-baby @keitsukki11 @sullen-angel24 @smolbludandelions @whootwhoot @cheatingthroughthislife @tadashi-simp @oikaw-ugh @lostsealscreams @sleepykarabou @atsunflower @lfjr @globe-fish @bewwybun @tetsoleil @sleepykarabou @justcafewriter @rin-suna @atsumusc0ck @waitforitillwritemywayout @dorkyhaikyu @yemilnisu @sunseteyes @kenmaki @kenanami,

goodness, i would write you all individual messages if time let me. but, i hope this is alright. i just wanted to thank you all for interacting with some dummy like me because that shit takes real patience </3 y’all are some really cool people and im really glad to have you as a moot. im ngl im pretty sure i’ve stopped by all your inboxes just to forget to actually send an ask :’( or maybe im too shy. one or the other. hopefully i can come around to all your ask boxes soon and fill it with my love because it’s what you all deserve. ya’ll are such amazing and talented people. for the love of god- you have all my love and care in the world. i hope that these past few weeks have been gentle with you, but if not, please let yourself rest from whatever it is that may be putting you down. here’s a gentle reminder that im always here to listen, and i wouldn’t judge you for whatever it is it may be. thank you for being so kind to me, and i hope to return that as well. take care.

@insanitywrites @derpeedoo @killuababie @lespaghetti @ordinary-ace

i haven’t told you this until now but, thank you for giving me company and comfort during a time that i was deeply struggling.

ps. if there’s any grammar or spelling mistakes no u did not see that <3

#cupid speaks #some...#very important ppl in this blog #i love them.

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vg-sanctuary · 3 years

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Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling

Moonsprout Games - Switch, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, PC - 2019

I don't like the core gameplay of 99% of all RPGs, but the ones I do like have been some of my favorite games I've ever played. case in point, Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling, a modern interpretation of the classic Paper Mario formula and an ideal example of indie developers adding to the legacy of a cult classic. its main feature is turn-based combat with action commands, like old Paper Mario or the Mario & Luigi series, and strategy in its intentional design and small health and damage numbers that goes way beyond "spam damage and heal every third turn, use mana items as needed". (in case you want to be 100% blind for your playthrough, past the Keep Reading link are some very minor spoilers: an item a specific cook can make after a side quest, some basic enemies, environments that are about halfway through the game, and the names of some medals.)

“wow, vg-sanctuary posting about a game that's not even two years old at time of writing? and it's an RPG? are you not a retro/legacy blog anymore? who are you and what have you done with the writer?” I still am a retro/legacy blog, mostly, just this time I thought I'd share something that its developers still get money from, and whose developers aren't mega corporations. and I just beat it, enjoyed it, and really felt like writing about it because it still doesn't have the popularity it deserves even after that puppet guy on YouTube talked about it. not that this post is going to reach any significant number of people, but still. I'll write about some more indie games sometime in the future. (and indeed I am writing about another RPG and you better believe it has a lot to talk about.)

anyway, Bug Fables starts with a brash little bee called Vi and a polite and honorable beetle named Kabbu wandering into an explorer's guild and not having a partner to join the guild with. they reluctantly decide they're going to fight together because companionship is a requirement for this guild, foiling off each other and sometimes off their third friend Leif, a blue moth they find in a cave, for the whole game. every character has a distinct personality and all the party members get some valuable character development through a side quest, which I really liked, but I'm no connoisseur of RPG stories. while I'm on story, people that come here looking for a well-made world will get what they want from the many optional lore books hidden around the world.

the plot becomes more complex and compelling as the game continues, though it generally lets gameplay take the spotlight. which is great, because the gameplay is also mostly great. about a third of it is doing puzzles on the overworld using the abilities of each character to move forward a la the Mario & Luigi series. they generally make use of whatever your newest overworld ability is, and some areas early on have inaccessible things you have to come back to, sort of like a Metroidvania except it isn't required to do this for progression. some puzzles take longer they could because they involve using Kabbu's horn to repeatedly fling an ice block many times over a distance. it's never egregious, but it could have been faster if the guy would use his arms. this is a minor caveat and not a majority of the game.

a lot of people probably don't know how the combat for this or Paper Mario works, and it's really important to Bug Fables, so I'll explain that here. it's turn based, which is typical, but basic attacks and skills need you to time a button press to do as much damage as possible. you can also time a button press when an enemy attacks to take less damage. Paper Mario and Bug Fables also both have medals instead of other equipment that give characters higher max HP or a new skill, for example. you have limited medal points and stronger medals require more points.

this is going to sound like a lot, but any RPG's combat will sound like a lot if you try to detail it in a single paragraph. the game introduces these things slower than I am here. in Bug Fables specifically, the character standing in the front of the group does one extra damage but is more likely to be attacked, and you can pass turns from one character to another in exchange for that character dealing one less damage (which is a lot because basic attacks only deal two damage by default). certain enemies can only be hit by certain attacks; some enemies fly, so Kabbu can't hit them until Vi knocks them down with her beemerang. not a typo, beemerang. and many of Bug Fables' status effects have upsides -- being paralyzed reduces damage taken everything by one, poison has many medals that make it a good thing, and being asleep heals the sleeping character every turn. there are others that are straight up bad things, though, and usually don't come until later. all of this adds up to even small encounters having strategic depth, which is great, and if you don't feel like small encounters you can just avoid them. skills that would typically be relegated to one character, like healing and support skills all going to one, are instead split between party members to make decisions more difficult in a good way. there's also a lovely medal that instantly kills any enemy the game deems too easy for you, sort of like in Earthbound.

I figure I spent more time doing housekeeping like cooking (simple A+B=C or A-becomes-B crafting), buying items, and arranging medals in Bug Fables than in any other RPG, which is because it was designed that way. by the way, cooking recipes start hidden, but a foodie at each restaurant will share some strong ones for free, which is a big help early on. anyone who's played The World Ends with You (i.e. me) will be spoiled by its excellent quality of life: no consumable items and you instantly heal to full after every encounter. it makes items seem like a ridiculous formality that RPGs only still have because they've had them for years, but in Bug Fables any item that isn't simple healing -- a lot of them aren't simple healing -- has great strategic use, and the exact way you spend your medal points can determine whether you win or lose any fight, especially bosses. for example, one character having one extra damage for two turns when they typically only do two is pretty important, especially when they use an attack that does multiple hits, and having it in item form saves valuable medal points and skill points. part of that time was kind of a waste, though, because I generally had one set of medals I use for multiple enemies and one I use for single enemies like bosses. being able to save loadouts would have helped a lot. I would like to compliment Bug Fables on allowing you to restart any boss with different medals without having to repeat cutscenes, and commend it for letting you do-over your level up bonuses late in the game when it starts to matter.

it's not like spending a lot of time on strategizing before fights is strictly mandatory. I was mostly playing on hard mode where enemies have more health and more difficult attacks, and mostly with a medal called Hard Hits that makes all enemies deal one extra damage in exchange for extra money after each fight. it can be less difficult if you'd like, but it's never mindless; even if you're doing a strategy that manages 20 or 30 damage (again, a lot in this game) in a single turn, it takes effort to choose your medals to do so much damage and actually play the strategy out in combat. the combat strategy is the best part of Bug Fables, and it makes each fight almost like a puzzle. I've typed some form of "strategy" six times so far, which is fair because it's the best part of Bug Fables. don't let it put you off, though, it's RPG combat strategy, not chess-like or RTS or something, so if you've enjoyed any other turn-based RPG it should be easy to get used to.

it's also worth mentioning the ample side content. each chapter of the game unlocks a handful of side quests, some about trading, some about combat, and almost as many bonus bosses as main bosses. you're allowed to fight them fairly early on, and a few become available after the final boss that are actually a bit harder than it in classic Paper Mario fashion. basically, if you like Bug Fables, there's a lot of it to play. there's even a trading card minigame because of course there is. it's fairly fleshed out, too, and unlike the one in Chocobo Tales the animations between turns don't take six years. the reward for the whole card side quest isn't something that's important for combat, so you can skip it if you don't like it; I didn't especially like it so I think that was a great decision on the developers' part.

rewards for some of the other side content, though, are so good it's kind of a wonder they can be completely skipped. it doesn't make the game harder to not have those skills or medals, but they are some of the best in the game and undeniably really useful. they make great side quest rewards in that sense, but it's important to know for the people that usually wouldn't do side content. I don't know if that's a common kind of player, but just in case. (this game's 100% achievement has been earned by a sky-high 5.9% of players on Steam. usually it's more like 2% or less. the point is none of the extra content is overly obtuse.)

I will complain about the forced stealth sections though. and be astounded that they fixed the main issue with them in the last stealth section. these are minor caveats and take well under an hour total unless you're really, really, really bad at sneaking, but they bothered me when I got to them. I mean, I understand why they're in the game, I understand why Zelda has them, but I didn't really like them. the main issue for all but the last stealth section is that there's no vision cone or other indication that "if you stand here they will see you" or even an opportunity to recover from mistakes which are incredibly important for playable stealth. the last stealth section does have a vision cone and does have an opportunity to recover from mistakes, which is a great step up. I would like to use even more italics to remind you that these sections total less than an hour of gameplay. Zelda: Breath of the Wild's forced-ish stealth was much worse than this.

I don't know where else to put it, so I'll add here that the soundtrack is great and the graphics are perfectly Gamecube-y and the sprites capture the cuteness of Paper Mario really well, even though they're, you know, bugs. each environment is distinct and themed well, and each one’s music matches well. I really wish I knew how to talk about music because there are a lot of different songs in this game that work well for what they go with. boss music sounds intense and boss-y and appropriate for each boss you're fighting, the not-music hits just right, and everything else feels good. some songs use Nintendo 64 MIDI instruments, which I loved. and the bee boss music has a synth that sounds like bees buzzing.

anyone that likes RPGs -- and even some people that don't -- will probably enjoy the story and strategy that make up the excellent Bug Fables. it goes beyond being a homage to Paper Mario and becomes its own thing entirely, though its roots are obvious from the art style. not that this takes away from it -- Paper Mario is a great legacy, and this manages to be even better. for all its little bad things there are a dozen great ones. I admit I haven't played the classic Paper Mario games, but this made me want more -- I guess I'll have to go back while I hope for Moonsprout Games to continue forward.

#bug fables #bug fables the everlasting sapling #my writing #this was also on amazon luna but i didnt figure anyone would care if i omitted it #also screenshots i took myself wow

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ourladylennon · 3 years

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this is a stress rant and also I absolutely have to get these thoughts out of my head and onto something so that I can understand how I'm feeling. so pardon me.

I have some very mixed feelings about my latest tattoo experience and it has been incredibly, astoundingly stressful. For anyone who was interested in how it went.

and after typing out this whole rant and reading it back my advice is: ALWAYS make sure it is exactly what you want. ALWAYS speak up if you don’t.

I have a specific style, as everyone, but the style of tattoo I have is a bit of a niche that can be hard to find: geometric design with dotwork/pointillism/stippling techniques to create shading rather then standard fill in shading. This shading style is incredibly time consuming and taxing for the artist and I've had a lot of trouble finding people who specialize in this (and within my area).

I started with an artist about 3 years ago, whom was new to me but known to be good. Got my appt set up, he drew me an entire sleeve- it was absolutely gorgeous. Went through two sessions and his work is genuinely amazing. Clean. Precise. Detailed. Unique. I didn't vibe with him too great but it was something I kind of put aside. But without explaining the whole fucking mess that became, just know that our artist-client relationship fell through. This left me with only the beginning of my tattoo. The whole ordeal was really stressful and upsetting so I put down the goal of getting it finished to try and recoup. And I just continually hit roadblocks trying to find artists who are good at dotwork and willing to do it. Often times they live in other cities/states/etc. Obviously this involves meeting a new artist, trying to figure out if it's a good fit, driving out for consultations/redoing all that process- s t r e s s. Now with covid, it's even more difficult because almost every artist I've come across that I've considered has closed books. All of them being out of town which is fine because it would be worth it. It's expected.

But after three years of this go around of trying to find someone, I was getting really put out by the process and just wanting to get this thing going. (Mistake #1- or #2 technically cause fucking up w the first artist is where it all started and I do regret it to this day).

A new shop opened IN my town- a miracle!!! I started following an artist whose work I found to be particularly amazing. Clean lines, clean shading, artistic seeming. Didn't see any pointillism, but I just like kept seeing her work and thinking damn that's good. So I decided to reach out and told her this is what I'm looking for, a dotwork sleeve and here are some examples of the style I like. I specifically mentioned this and asked if they'd be interested in working on it because I know that dotwork is not everyone's thing. The artist replied and said they've been wanting to get into and would like to do that (we'll call this mistake #3. Do not assume the artist, even if very good at other things will be good at all things. Do not go to an artist wanting a specific style without having seen their work for THAT style).

At this point I sent over pictures of my current tattoo that we'd be adding onto for reference. In my mind this is what I thought would mean: "I am looking at what you have to see how to incorporate it into a new sleeve design and see how I can create a collaborative piece and mesh the two together." (Mistake #4: that was not the case. Do not assume. Anything. Ever.)

The appt date was relatively quick despite the fact that I figured she'd be booked out for quite some time (red flag #1: not because she wasn't busy. But because this was not a whole lot of time to come up with a design but I figured "Well she knows her capabilities better than I do and she wouldn't suggest it that soon if she weren't sure). In my previous experiences, the artist will send you a proof or have a separate appt to review the design. I never received an email with said design (red flag #2, in my personal opinion. But I thought I was just being...extra? Also just thought, okay I'll see it at the appt and it will be OK, right? <- mistake #5).

I show up, there is no sleeve design. (RED FLAG #3) There are two single mandala tattoos. Outlines only. No shading. I'd also like to say my style is much more geometric fractals than it is mandala. A lot of people find these interchangeable but...they're really much different. (RED. FLAG. #4). I genuinely did not see that coming. Maybe I'm wrong to say, but this was negligent in my opinion and experience. A sleeve design ensures that your finished piece flows, that it works together, you can see the whole picture, modify, etc. Especially with it being an addition to my existing work. Cannot stress how much of a red flag.

I'm wigging out at this point. I don't love them but I want this tattoo. I'm going back and forth thinking, "maybe it's just because the shading isn't filled in I can't picture it." (MISTAKE #6: trust your gut!!!). I tell her OK well I like this about this one and that about that one. She only nods and listens, where I was expecting feedback; perhaps an "OK well we can draw it on" or "I can rework it" etc. She didn't and I am too paralyzed to speak up. (Red flag #4)

Mistake #7: I accept it at this point. I pick between the two. She has to go resize it. I'm having a literal internal freak out and battle. I am someone who DOES NOT know how to speak up for themselves. In any way. EVER. For any reason. At any time. I am a fear based individual, in fact, I am nearly certain I have APD (avoidant personality disorder) and it effects me severely and deeply. To the point that simply speaking to someone can be hard for me.

But my brain was screaming you cannot do this! You aren't sure! This is for life! It's your body!! You HAVE to say something! (RED fucking alert)

She came back with the one design resized and my heart is thumping, my chest is constricting, the throat feels like it's closing. I make myself say it. I tell her I don't think this is what I'm looking for. I literally almost busted into tears trying to say it because I was so fucking terrified and overwhelmed. I've never been in a position where I genuinely wasn't sure whether I liked what I was looking at. She says you don't need to be sorry you should speak up this is your body. So immediately, I lost a lot of tension because of her kindness. I thought she would be angry or rude or upset, just because I'm fearful. She proceeded to kind of go in and shade in with a pencil on the stencil to give me a better idea and apologized that she should have had that prepared. I continue asking questions to assuage my concerns and feel....better....ish. she offers to redraw and reschedule but I went against my gut, gave into my desperacy to continue my sleeve, dismissed my feelings as being just my typical overexertion of fear and did something I NEVER do: turn my back on my instincts. (Mistake. Mistake #8)

She was pleasant and I genuinely enjoyed her, felt comfortable with her which is not something I can say about previous artists and that's a good chunk of why I decided to continue. I liked her, I liked her other work I've seen, I just thought that once the stippling was in that I'd see it was really nice. However, I am laying there and I'm like I do not feel poking, which is literally how dotwork is done. Dot by dot. I'd feel her do the tiniest bit of dot-dot-dot and I'm like OK OK I'm just not paying full attention and missing it. But then I'd hear and feel her shading- standard shading. I'm like why is she using a shading tip? I'm just confused honestly. I'm like I have no idea what the could be for, just assume it's necessary for something I didn't realize. But I can see because I'm laying and my arms at a weird angle.

I finally get a peek while she's pausing and its....not dotwork. It's not dotwork at all, in fact. It's too late at this point in my eyes. It was only partially done but what am I gonna do? Stop her in the middle and have an unfinished tattoo? And then what? (Try to) go to someone else to have them do dotwork and have a half unmatching tattoo? There was nothing I could do. So I resigned and accepted this as the consequences of my actions and ill choices. And that's honestly been the hardest part to deal with: I let this happen to myself because I could not speak up. The only person who could have stopped this was ME. And I could not do it. That's how deeply my issues of fear run. And that is terrifying, pathetic, sad.

I'm not saying I got the world's ugliest tattoo. It's okay. Just okay. In the words of RuPaul, meh. I don't want meh. I want astounding. And I didn't do what I needed to to make that happen or not happen.

I just have been in awe over the fact that I asked for dotwork and the artist expressed no concern over this, literally had my existing tattoo right above where they were working and continued to not emulate that style of shading at all. Most of this is my fault, 90% of it. But there was negligence on the artists side and I genuinely don't think they meant it to be. I just don't think they had enough experience, but they too should have spoke up if they didn't feel they could carry it out. They gave me no inclination that they could not or would not be doing dotwork. At any point. And I do feel upset that I don't think they put in the effort or care to work off my existing tattoo in their design, and in looking back, their design also does not look nearly anything like the designs I gave for example. It was my job to walk away and request a redesign or to cancel and I didn't. So in the end this is on me. And it has been very taxing on my mental state.

To end this shit show: the tattoo I just got costed half of what my first one did, while only having taking the fraction of time as my first and being less then half the size of my first. It is not nearly as clean, it certainly reflects their level of experience. The shop environment was not fantastic: it felt a bit like as if I had walked into a chain restaurant...but a tattoo shop. There were no private rooms, there were no tattoo chairs. They were literal stools and that's not...not professional or normal. And I chose to continue.

I'm faced with some really tough decisions moving forward. I am at least thankful it is relatively small ish and wraps towards my inner arm which makes it less visible. But I'm at a crossroads of whether I go through the whole mess of trying to find a FOURTH artist to try and finish my sleeve the way it was meant to be finished (dotwork, whole sleeve design etc) and make the best of it at the risk of having a fucking patchwork arm. Or I continue to work with this artist and see the design through myself (literally design it myself which I didn't want to do but it doesn't appear that I should leave this to them), so that at least the remainder of my arm is consistent shading and work.

And because I've made it sound like the tattoo is atrocious, be assured it's not trash by any means. It's just not what I wanted. Big sis learned a big lesson.

(the immediate center is bothering me the most. But I think it can be altered. Nonetheless. The skill/experience level shows, unfortunately. And you can certainly see the difference between the stipple shading on my first tattoo and the regular shading on the new one.)

I am trying to be positive and that's all I can do. I accept the results and I think it can be fixed to a certain extent, and I can only hope as I move forward that I make the right decision and that the end product is something I enjoy.

#aye aye aye children #it was a big lesson is all i can say #genuinely helped to get all this out #i was able to identify my biggest stressor of this whole experience which is a disappointment in myself first and foremost #but i have hope #and it will be okay #as my dear anon reminded me tis but a bump in the road #sorry for the huge ass rant but i have been having the worst anxiety over it and i do feel a lot better #and i am glad to get this off my chest and move on #it's like a resolution to move forward now #deep breath! :-)

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chocosvt · 4 years

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connect universe

⚬ pairing: cyborg!hansol x reader | future!au ⚬ word count: 4315 ⚬ warnings: alcohol consumption, violence ⚬ genres: angst, heavy fluff, elements of a futuristic/dystopian society.

✧✎ synopsis: hansol’s first time at an underground party isn’t what you expect it to be. you want to acquaint him with what it’s like to live normally, but the fabric of his past continues to control him.

✧✎ a/n: this is a side story to connect! i recommend you read the original fic first if you haven’t already (link is here) i rly luv this universe and i didn’t want to just stow it away!! i’ll expand on it more in the future (pun whoops)

You didn’t understand how anyone could look at Hansol and interpret him as someone malignant, someone evil. He was anything but a menace, and during the progression of your relationship you came to realize that his gentle nature was often a curse rather than a blessing. It brought you to ache, because he let people walk over him. Hansol had become so accustomed to brutal temperament that he rarely even lifted his finger to those who refused him and belittled him and reduced him to his bionic parts.

The worst part was, Hansol hated when you defended him. He would crinkle into himself like he’d just heard an ear-piercing scream and then grasp onto your wrist, shaking it, begging you to drop the argument because it was worthless. Even if you didn’t see it that way, his pleading was so genuine and desperate that you had no choice but to swallow the bullet on your tongue. Nonetheless, you practiced everything in your power to make him feel love, to understand love, that it wasn’t some weapon of faked promises but the deepest sentiment you had ever felt. “I know what love is because I have you, Hansol.”

When he first moved in with you, he experienced many nightmares, in which he’d slam awake in bed with his fists crumpling at the sheets, every circuit beneath his skin thundering in a bright, icy blue. His right leg would be jittering so quickly that you feared its bionics might burn out. But Hansol never dreamed of his chiefly horrendous past when you held him in your arms. And so every night you would press his head to your chest, feeling him squeeze around your waist while you stroked through the soft fibres of his hair until he fell asleep. Hansol thought he understood love a little more when you did that.

He was learning news joys and pleasures that he’d been reprieved of while contained in the laboratories. One evening you found a stray kitten stumbling around through some newspapers in an alley, and brought her home to clean up. But what was most shocking was when you placed the kitten in the sink.

Hansol peered over your shoulder, his eyes violet and beaming lowly. “What is that?” He then asked, flinching slightly when the kitten opened its tiny mouth to squeak.

It was an unprecedented type of astounding. How could Hansol not know what a kitten is? However, the more you spoke with Yoojung’s father (responsible for fixing much of the cyborg’s faulty wiring and circuits) you realized Hansol didn’t know much about being a person. What he did know was fear.

“That’s what happens when you grow up in a lab with a bunch of Metal Surgeons and Circuit Technicians. You never were a person, and you’re not yet a cyborg either. You’re an experiment.” He told you.

And with those chilling words chiseled to the underside of your flesh, you adapted an extra attentive level of care when it came to Hansol. You taught him how to handle the kitten without accidentally crushing it in his iron-reflexes, how to brush her fur and tease her with a small toy and give her baths once she’d roll around in the garden. After coming home from a tiresome day at work, almost nothing else could match the happiness you felt upon seeing Hansol asleep on the couch, the kitten curled in a fluffy ball against his chest. She liked to mush her face against his bicep whenever he cradled her in his firm arms.

“He’s so gentle,” you expressed to Yoojung’s father, “he won’t even kill a spider.”

The man flipped up his welding helmet. He gave you a stern look, as though you should know to speak better, and suddenly there was this sickly pounding of your heart.

“The boy is gentle, and you’re not incorrect to think that. But don’t curse yourself by being naïve. He has that switch in him.”

“So does everyone.” You had countered, a shiver tickling down your neck.

“Not everyone is designed the way he is,” Yoojung’s father reasoned, setting down his torch, “no matter what, Hansol is not entirely human. He is devoid of feeling many emotions to their fullest extent. You can associate sunshine on a rainy day with happiness, but that doesn’t mean happiness is what you feel. A cyborg knows merely the word, not its sensation. I want you to think safe. Hansol knew anger and violence in that laboratory before he knew compassion. It’s wired into his mechanics.”

That day, you left the garage with Hansol as this enormous lump sat in your throat. You examined the chronicles of your relationship.

Not once had the boy ever gotten angry or displayed contempt. Even when your kitten gave Hansol his first scratch, he recoiled in sadness, confusion, rather than an immediate instinct to be forceful. He asked you what he did wrong, and you had to hug him tighter than ever before while he teared up, because he genuinely didn’t comprehend that it wasn’t his fault, that the kitten just didn’t want to be held at that time. You thought about when Hansol kissed you, how he’d always guide you to lay on your back, just his fingertips rubbing softly against your waist because he was so afraid that you might not want him closer. Of course, you always did, to which he would emanate pink at your encouragement.

“If there ever comes a time when you need to deescalate Hansol, I suggest you pin-jack him.” Yoojung’s father had cautioned just before you left the garage.

“Pin-jack?” You questioned. “What’s that?”

He searched his toolbox and picked up a screwdriver with a flat tip. “Anything that can be inserted into the sensory slot at the back of his neck. If you manage to touch his chip, it’ll momentarily reset his data board. He might be delirious coming to, so you must be careful.”

Pin-jack, you scoffed inside your head as you walked home with Hansol, I’ll never have to do that.

“I think we’re getting close. Yoojung said the portal should be under the Interstitial Bridge.”

Hansol followed you, trusting your judgement as you gleaned the instructions Yoojung had earlier sent in a text message. It was difficult to differentiate much in the nighttime, especially when the Interstitial Bridge was located more toward the outskirts of the Nexus. There was hardly any luminosity apart from the moon and the few blue lightning bugs that sparked between the dark seams. Furthermore, it was difficult for Hansol to understand much of your words when the floodgate had been opened, for the concrete trough that was usually dry and empty was now gushing with contaminated city water.

Just up ahead, you could detect the silhouette of the bridge.

The portal must be under it. You knew it was wise to act quickly considering the portal’s location switched every hour, a simple safety precaution in order to spurn the Stargazers. They always attempted to shut down much of the inconspicuous activity that took place outside the eyes of the Nexus. You were anxious, but excited to say the least. This would be Hansol’s first time attending an underground party. It was extremely difficult to receive an invitation let alone successfully pinpoint an entrance portal unless the host themselves gave you the instructions on how to discover it. Yoojung managed to secure herself an invite, and extended the text containing the portal’s location to you and Hansol.

“I think I see it!” You squeaked triumphantly and grabbed onto Hansol’s hand.

Together, you ran beneath the bridge. Embedded into the misty stone was an oval-shaped hole, outlined in a glowing hue of amethyst. The black centre of the portal seemed to ripple and convulse, and every so often there would be an orange flicker against the blackness. You weren’t sure how Hansol was going to respond to such an environment: loud music, dim, flashy lights, the suffocating closeness of unfamiliar bodies, air that constantly grew thicker with humidity, it definitely wasn’t to everyone’s liking. But you figured Hansol would appreciate your offer rather than insisting he stay boxed into your home, unable to experience anything which may help move him from his self-loathing.

“Have you ever been through a portal before?” You asked him.

Hansol shook his head. “No, never.”

There was a faint shimmer of worry in his eyes. You smoothed a hand down his neck and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth, hoping to reassure him.

“I’m not going to let go of your hand, okay? I promise.”

You stepped into the portal first. It was much like shifting through quicksand, for it was something smooth yet heavy, and the further you pushed into the blackness the colder it felt. Eventually, the portal filled with a blinding white light that swallowed around you, yet you squeezed your eyes shut and persisted, your fingers still interlaced with Hansol’s. No more than a second later did you sense the brightness dissipate, and when you opened your eyes, you were met with the vivacious party. You had emerged underneath a metal staircase, to which there was the loud clattering of heels and shoes walking up and down. When you looked at Hansol, he appeared a bit disoriented, but smiled nonetheless.

“Let’s go find Yoojung.” You whispered into his ear.

The atmosphere was quite intense for Hansol. It seemed as though his mechanics were spinning on overdrive, attempting to process such an influx of sound and warm bodies and scents. He stuck close to you as best he could. He was able to relax upon reuniting with Yoojung, for your touches to his arm weren’t met with rigidity and he even accepted a pineapple cocktail from a whirring hover-disk.

Though that didn’t signify he was completely subdue. A few people had managed to note the code tattooed just in front of Hansol’s ear, and while no one pitched a concerning comment, you could tell the boy had felt uneasy from their blatant, often unconscious stares, how they probed every inch of his body attempting to discover all his bionic scarring and accessories. You tended to pull him away and keep him distracted by the other means pertaining to nightlife and underground partying. For a little while you danced undisturbed, which allowed you to discover Hansol’s great sense of rhythm as he twirled you around and guided your hips and swooped you in close against his chest.

“Are you having fun, Sollie?” You murmured, holding onto his shoulders.

He pressed his forehead to yours, kissed you with a zealous edge of roughness and a smirk. You took that as confirmation, and you danced until it became hard to breathe.

But then trouble seemed to take shape in a form you least expected: Changkyun.

Once you and Hansol rediscovered Yoojung near the bar where she had been sipping a brilliant, lime green beverage, you sensed a pair of fingertips slide up your back and turned around uncomfortably. Your expression quickly morphed into shock when you were greeted by Changkyun’s dreary, smiling face, a heavy stench of alcohol radiating from his clothing. You hadn’t been on the best terms with Changkyun. He was never able to adjust to your breakup very well, and there was a reason Yoojung had also begun to distance herself from him. He smiled at you, mumbled something you didn’t quite catch.

“Changkyun,” Yoojung cautioned, setting down her drink, “I think you should clean yourself up a bit and head home. Minghao can open a portal for you.”

He ignored her. Instead, his foggy gaze was allured to you. “So, I take it you’re still w’Hansol?” He slurred despite the boy standing right next to you.

You didn’t answer his question, repeating, “I think you should go.”

“If I had known you’d throw our whole relationship away just to end up w’someone whose half-metal,” Changkyun scoffed, “I never would’ve dated you.”

Hansol stiffened at your side, his eyes wide.

“Changkyun,” Yoojung snapped, “you need to go. Now.”

“What?” The boy persisted defensively, as though he were innocent, with not one inkling as to why he was being dealt this cold treatment. Changkyun approached Hansol and gave him a slight shove against his shoulders. “How come you’ve got nothing to say Bionic Brain? Did you short circuit?”

Something flickered in Hansol’s eyes, and yet he still didn’t crack, rather he merely swallowed and furrowed his brow. It boggled you that Hansol was able to control his temperament, because you were certainly fuming. You stepped in between them and tried maneuvering Changkyun to the side. He stumbled a bit since his coordination had been utterly shredded by the copious alcohol in his system, though his glare never separated from Hansol. Right when you believed the situation was deescalating, you sighed in relief and exchanged a tiresome glance with Yoojung; however, Changkyun had managed to once again press himself right next to the boy and your heart dropped.

“Y’know what they say,” Changkyun hissed between his teeth, “they made you a cyborg because you never would’ve been good enough as a human.”

And with that, Changkyun gave a rough bump to Hansol’s shoulder. The only difference was that he lost his opportunity to walk away unscathed. This shroud of fear gripped onto you tight, rendered you paralyzed, unable to even wriggle a finger as the indifferent light in Hansol’s eyes had been demolished. Instead, his gaze was blazing. It burst into a bloodied shade of red that you had never seen before. The usually invisible circuits lining his neck and cheek started to glow in the same colour, and as Hansol curled his fingers through the collar of Changkyun’s shirt, pinning him hard against the edge of the bar, you saw that the wires in his right forearm were transmitting signals at tenfold their regular speed.

“What did you just fucking say?” Hansol growled, though you could hardly recognize his voice. It had a metallic, almost vibrational undertone. It was sharper, completely stripped of its soft grit, rife with vitriol.

Changkyun squirmed helplessly, like fresh prey caught between its predator’s jaws. Not even Yoojung was able to move, for she was in the same boat as you, unbeknownst to Hansol’s aggression and the seething hatred that he maintained for Changkyun in his eyes. Somehow, you managed to snap from your trance when Changkyun tried to knock Hansol with a punch, though the cyborg easily grasped his wrist and began twisting his entire arm. You grabbed onto Hansol, attempting to push him away, battering against his side in desperation, begging him to stop with panicked tears glued against your cheeks.

Your ex-boyfriend released a horrible cry, as though Hansol were going to break his bone. No matter what you did, Hansol’s strength was akin to steel, it was unparalleled.

It forced you to confront your only option.

Digging into your pocket you retrieved a small nail file. You didn’t allow yourself to think, rather you braced a hand against the back of Hansol’s neck and dug the nail file deep into his sensory slot, as far as the blunt metal could reach until it touched his chip and there was a blipping spark. Yoojung gasped as the colour suddenly melted from Hansol’s gaze. Every circuit beneath his synthetic flesh dimmed and his arms dropped rather lifelessly to his sides. Changkyun didn’t hesitate. He scrambled his way out from underneath Hansol, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his temples and fear engrained into his face.

It wasn’t until you pushed against Hansol’s neck in order to withdraw the nail file that you realized how terribly you were shaking. The boy’s grey eyes flickered, and you knew he was going to reboot.

“We need to get him out of here,” Yoojung said, wrapping an arm around his waist, “it’s not good for his database to restart in a setting like this.”

Dropping the nail file on the floor, the tears still wet against your cheeks, you assisted Yoojung in helping Hansol walk. Changkyun had disappeared into the shadows.

Yoojung was able to discover Minghao on the balcony that overlooked the dance floor. It was troublesome guiding Hansol up the staircase since his delirium was so thick. He kept mumbling these indiscernible fragments while odd clicks and beeps reverberated from inside his body. You could feel how hot the metal beneath his skin had become, for even just brushing against his forearm was akin to ghosting an iron skillet. Minghao was the party host, and he had been the one to rearrange the portal. Yet, he didn’t seem eager to reopen another gateway so abruptly.

“It’s dangerous,” he began, his black, smooth suit shining against the lights, “the Stargazers have been breathing down my neck ever since my last terra. I’m a sliver away from getting put back in the Void.”

“I know,” Yoojung huffed, adjusting her grip around Hansol’s waist, “I swear, you can set a time limit on the portal for just a minute. That’s all we need to get him out safe.”

With the long, dark fringe shielding Minghao’s eyes, it was impossible to decipher his thinking. However, you did note his foot tapping against the floor. You didn’t know much about Minghao, apart from the fact he lived sumptuously and had managed to become one of the most suspicious citizens within the Nexus. Yoojung said he would be empathetic. Apparently, Minghao sustained irreparable damage to his left eye while being contained in the Void and her father had to fabricate a robotic replacement.

At last, Minghao sighed, running a hand down his face. “Alright, alright, I’ll open one.” He pulled up the sleeve of his suit. “But—you better get in and get the fuck out. I’m not going back there.”

Locked around the boy’s wrist was a silver titanium band. When he pressed his thumb against a slight groove, a series of amber dots gradually lit up around the bracelet.

“Command: open exit portal at sector D4-East, Z-Underground,” Minghao spoke so naturally, as though he knew the coordinates like the back of his palm, “Command: release at sector B2-West, Z-positive, BR-ITS. Time limit is one minute, zero seconds. Force shutdown.”

Minghao then shone his bracelet at the wall, where an amber beam pierced against the brick and opened an exit portal. Yoojung thanked him at least four times, to which he simply nodded and wished you luck with managing Hansol home safely. You pushed through the portal, sensing the coldness unforgivingly squeeze around you.

You sat on your bed, plucking at the tassels of a pillow in your lap. It was almost three in the morning and this sickness had been harbouring in your lower-tummy ever since the dispute at the bar. A shiver traced like the point of a knife down your spine as you kept visualizing that striking redness in Hansol’s gaze, a redness so harrowing and tinged with rage that you hugged the pillow to your chest for measly comfort.

But you knew it wasn’t just anger: pain, betrayal, the exhaustion of having to lace one’s own wounds while knowing they were going to split wide open again, these sentiments too flashed in that redness. A tear rolled down your cheek and splashed onto the pillow.

Yet there was a timid knock on your door, and you quickly wiped your face. Hansol entered your room. He had been laying on your couch ever since he returned home, allowing his mechanics to completely reconnect with his sensory chip. When he sat uncertainly on the edge of your bed, his right knee was already bouncing and there was a pale blue colouring his eyes.

“Are you feeling better?” You hummed, tracing the pillow’s embroidery.

Hansol nodded, looking at you peripherally. “I’m fine.”

There was an unmistaken coarseness to your voice. It was taking all your strength to not erupt into tears like you had done at the party. The feeling of digging that nail file into Hansol’s neck, jamming it so hard into his slot that his chip had sparked and this lifeless aura overwhelmed him, it made you nauseous.

You sniffled, squeezing the pillow tighter. “H-Hansol,” he turned to you with such a concerned countenance that your chest ached, “I’m sorry for pin-jacking you. I’m really sorry.”

The manner in which your tone warbled was heartbreaking. Hansol shook his head. He etched closer to you and extended his hand toward your knee, but his touch immediately withered away the second you flinched ever so slightly. Hansol felt like he’d burned himself.

“No,” he pleaded, “no, no, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad at you. I could never be.” The ice in his eyes had seldom shone this brightly, and it only seemed to disturb more emotions inside you.

Hansol peered into his lap, then licked his lips and murmured in a shaky voice, “are you afraid of me?”

The question stunned you as though it were a daunting flash of light. Consequently, your mind had become hazy, and you struggled to articulate the words that could capture your every feeling. Hansol spoke up again, to which his right leg had finally stopped bouncing.

“I would never hurt you.” He met your gaze with utmost clarity. “I-I can’t promise that I won’t hurt other people… Just… I would never hurt you, ever.”

Your fingertips curled far into the pillow and you could almost hear the blood pumping in your own veins. There was no doubt he was speaking truthfully. You knew Hansol wouldn’t harm you.

“If I had never used my nail file,” you gulped heavily and held eye contact, “would you have done it? Would you have broken his arm?” Somehow, you already suspected the answer.

Hansol nodded. “I wish I could tell you the answer that would make you happy, but I can’t lie to you. I know that makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

Tossing the pillow aside, you sat up straight and shook your head. “It’s not about me, Hansol,” you relayed with urgence, “everything about this night is a lot to process. I don’t know anything about your anger, or what being a cyborg entails. But what I know is that you’re hurting. You keep this darkness inside and you shouldn’t.”

“Because if I don’t people will get hurt!” He exclaimed, clenching his fists while the circuits beneath his forearm and cheek illuminated with lurid colour. “That switch is part of me. They designed me to have it and I can’t rid myself of it! ”

You were fortunate to have not one experience with the laboratories. And yet, Hansol had been tainted since he was a child. He experienced the forefront of their cruelty and their invasive experimenting. He was altered and tapered and tested on. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. Hansol was open about many things exempt from his time at the facilities. His journal was the precious tool that captured his every secret.

The boy then gripped onto his right knee, which started trembling once more, his eyes tenuously flickering into a rose shade. “Whenever I feel like I’m slipping… I think about you, and my anger goes away. But that club—it was so loud, so many distractions, so many people and conversations. My sensors haven’t been overwhelmed like that in ages.”

You leaned forward with a great exhale, your hand curling around the boy’s inner thigh to comfortingly squeeze. “Baby, if it was too much, then you should have said something to me.” Cupping his cheek and turning his head toward you, his eyes were rather glossy.

“I wanted to try it,” Hansol huffed, “I just want to be with you, and do things you like.”

Tracing your thumb below his eye, you couldn’t help but sigh again. For someone with an impressive installment of metal components, his heart couldn’t be any more tender than it already was. You swore that if you poked it, your finger might sink right through as though you touched something impossibly soft and squishy. A shy smile gradually danced to the corners of his mouth as you kissed him once, then twice, then wrapped your arms around his neck and suckled the remaining flavour of sweet pineapple from his tongue. You pressed your forehead against his, studying his face with such ardour.

“We can do things you like too, y’know.”

Hansol sniffled. “I like playing with Ppomo.”

Only a moment later, and your kitten was slipping between the thin gap in the doorway. She leapt onto the bed and mewled in her high-pitched tone, most likely imploring for someone to scratch the black and cream fur behind her ear. Ppomo’s favourite place seemed to be Hansol’s lap (you’d have to agree with her on that one) for she curled up in a small ball while he drew a gentle hand along her back. Resting your head against Hansol’s shoulder, you joined him in the petting until she fell asleep.

You thought about what Yoojung’s dad had drawled on that particular day you visited his garage, hoping to get some of Hansol’s mechanisms tweaked: a cyborg knows merely the word, not its sensation.

But you didn’t think that was necessarily true. Instead, you believed it was more accurate to say that Hansol could pinpoint many sensations, he just didn’t know what they were. He learned it was love when you held him and kissed him, happiness when he made Ppomo purr, excitement when he twirled your body in a breathtaking circle before pulling you into his chest on the dancefloor.

And you intended to teach him the name of every sensation that allowed him to feel so wonderful.

✧✎ a/n: awhile ago i answered an ask abt my expansion of the connect universe so if that lovely human reads this, i hope you liked it!! i’m not really sure where these fics into hansol’s attempts at human life will take me.

maybe i will write an entire fic that details his time at the laboratory... i’m not sure yet!! in the mean time i’m trying to write this mingyu summer fic which i wanted to write last year, but ya... dreams crushed didn’t happen :_) ANYWAYS I HOPE U LOVE CYBORG!SOL AS MUCH AS ME he just wants to pet his kitten!!!!

#seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #vernon scenarios #hansol scenarios #seventeen vernon #vernon angst #hansol angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #vernon fluff #svt x reader #vernon x reader

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henpendrips · 4 years

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Top Ten #2 - God of War II (PS2)

Ok, at this point I must be pulling your leg, right? And yes, I am... in the most visceral and unecessarily brutal way possible.

Ahh, God of War 2. The miracle game that served as the perfect send-off to the PS2 era, as it took all the vacuous words that would be used to describe a big, innovative AAA game (then and now), and actually live up to it. Yes, it is epic, grandiose, daring. But above all else, it's a fucking fantastic hack-n-slash/spectacle fighter, and unquestionably my favorite entry in one of my favorite game franchises.

Straight off the success of its predecessor (and before all the comics, books, and lovely prequels sans Ascension), back we are at the helm with Kratos, as he goes from god to empty-stomached mortal in a single tutorial level. An astounding tutorial level, mind you, as we slice and dice the forces on the Island of Rhodes, pursued by a sentient Colossus, only to have the spiffy, uber-powerful Blade of Olympus dangled in our faces, and snatched away at the last second... along with Kratos' innards. But I suppose a paper cut like that is reason enough to get a guy who's been double-crossed by several Olympians to go on a quest to the ends of the Earth, and find a way to change his fate. And also murder gods.

Say it with me: GoW2 is the right kind of sequel, taking what worked in the original, building it up, and filling the game with more AND better content. Not only are the stakes raised, the world expanded, the environments more varied, but every aspect of gameplay is improved upon. Enemy types are far more distinct, so tactics and approach more frequently alter compared to GoW1, from killing riders and taking control of cyclops, to deflecting projectiles, magic, and even melee strikes using the Golden Fleece. Key items such as the Amulet of the Fates and Icarus' Wings, improved exploration and puzzles thanks to their mechanics. The new magic abilities have a more distinct flair and usage than those attained in GoW1, from Typhon's Bane going from simple magic arrows to creating giang tornados, Cronos' Rage generating chain-lightning that would tag and damage every monster that came near, to the brutal Atlas Quake cataclysming everything around you. Oh, and Euryale, Medusa's fat sister, also loses her head in this adventure.

But the weapons, oh-ho-ho BOY! You liked the Blade of Artemis, how it provided a bit of different melee combat compared to the Blades of Chaos? Well in GoW2, you get THREE completely distinct weapons to brutalize these poor creatures of myth alongside the newly minted (in blood) Blades of Athena. Barbarian Hammer for heavy impact, pushback, and the ability to summon some soulsy minions (in the same vein as Army of Hades); Spear of Destiny, with greater range and piercing ability, faster but more focused strikes, and generating crystal bombs; and as your reward for clearing the game, the Blade of Olympus, which... is just great, and I'm glad that it isn't given to you until the final boss fight against Zeus, because from first gutting to last, the antecipation, the little taste you get during the tutorial, and the narrative reasons why you're trying to get it back, makes it all worthwhile to use it in New Game +. Alongside a wider range of costumes, all with different abilities and effects, to spice up your experience and replays.

I would say that God of War 2 wins out among all God of War games, not because the other entries in the series that I've played (so no God of War 4 yet) are bad, but because there's never really the same indulgence as there is in GoW2. Numbuh 3 is far more generic in terms of level design and environments, but it might've won out thanks to its pay-offs, if it hadn't been for what felt like a more limited and less varied arsenal, with magic assigned directly to its four melee weapons, three of which seemed redundant and could have had more done to make their usage more distinct. And while it is one of my personal 10/10 games, the ending of GoW2 really is the worst part of it, as even when it originally came out, having a blatant "To be continued" AFTER you establish a huge climax didn't really go down well with me, in spite of everything leading up to it being balls-to-the-walls mind-blowing.

I don't think I can ever do God of War 2 justice, as to why it is I consider it so enjoyable, why I have so much fun when I play it, and why I became so invested in this series after two games in. But despite it all, while the struggle was real, there can be only one #1, and rightfully, only one game could have possibly have me asking Kratos, the one-man liquifying machine, to come down a step.

#art #artists on tumblr #god of war #GoW2 #kratos #blades of athena #top ten #videogames #fanart #illustration #print

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igniida · 3 years

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I’ve decided I’m going to add Ortho to this blog as like a secondary/by request muse. Cause I have a LOT of ideas when it comes to this baby boi. Here’s a small run down of some of those ideas:

He was about 13 when he died and his robotic design is meant to reflect that age.

His Artificial Intelligence is astounding and constantly updating. He is constantly learning from his environment and adapting himself to match better to that environment. It’s advancing to a point that even Idia is astounded by it.

Due to the constant updates of his systems, from taking in everything he’s learned over the day, he does need to “sleep”. Though it’s not really sleeping, it’s him shutting down for several hours so he can save what he’s learned and file it away in his systems.

He was incredibly athletic when he passed away and retains that quality now.

He’s really friendly, sweet and helpful but has no problem throwing hands with someone. He’s far less of a pacifist then his brother.

He really wants to join a sports club but can’t decide which one and isn’t sure if he’d be allowed to join.

He has a tendency to be incredibly hot headed both figuratively and literally.

A good boi who is also a reckless punk. Whether this is retained from when he was alive and was a trouble maker or if it’s because his programming doesn’t always understand the right way to do something vs the wrong way to do something is unknown. It’s probably a mix of both.

He does use magic. When Idia entered NRC he took the magic gem from his pen and placed it inside of Ortho so Ortho could be the one to use magic. Most classes that involve casting spells are attended by Ortho.

He is surprisingly warm to the touch. Since he’s pretty much a giant computer that runs for hours a day he does retain a lot of heat. He does have cooling units and a ventilation system to keep him from overheating. He only ever feels really cold to the touch during winter.

He and Idia made a promise to attend Night Raven College together when they were younger.

#✘ Headcanons ✘#✘ Ortho IC ✘#((🥺 baby boi baby))

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adastraperfortuna · 3 years

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I Played Cyberpunk 2077

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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mcfanely · 4 years

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A Powerful Treasure

Archive of our Own

A new enemy has surfaced in Ninjago, but before his plans have even properly come to light, before much is even significantly known about the man; the ninja are attacked in the Monastery. They all get out unscathed, more or less, but when they can’t find Cole...

7488 words

There were times when Cole woke up in the Monastery and forgot where he was. It seemed to just be a fact of life, especially when that life included being a ninja and most of the time going from place to place in a mad rush to prevent the whole of Ninjago from being destroyed. So waking up to brief confusion as a soft orange haze of light managed to bleed through his closed eyelids was nothing new to the Earth ninja. He must have been in the bunk room on the Bounty, and unfortunate shifting in his sleep along with a perfectly angled ship had meant that a direct ray of sunlight was destined to go into his eyes as soon as he opened them.

No matter where he moved his head, nothing seemed to help it other than an arm thrown haphazardly over his face to prevent the light from coming in.

Then, over the course of a few seconds, it occurred suddenly that he didn't even remember boarding the Bounty the day before, nor he didn't remember going to sleep either. The process of getting ready for bed, it was the same every night. A few hours of relaxation and watching TV, maybe some games, late night training if Cole felt like it and his body didn’t ache, then he'd climb into bed and wake up to his alarm the next day to get ready for morning practice.

In fact, Cole didn't even recall having dinner that night. He remembered that Zane had started cooking, because everyone had set up shop in the dining room because they were researching… Something.

Something important, something that was a pressing matter. Something that Cole had no reason to have forgotten, but that wasn't the only thing he was blanking on.

A good portion of the previous day, a sheer blank slate in his mind.

Cole shot up sharply in bed, the quilt falling off where it had been tucked in around him and off the edge of the bed. Though the white cotton sheet getting dirtied on the floor wasn't the biggest of his problems in that instance.

It was what he was wearing, and the fact that he didn't own anything like it. They were simple clothes, a white t-shirt and trousers that seemed to be made from the same material, all the way down to the threading used to hold it all together. It looked like spools of sheer gold to the naked eye, so thin and sewn so carefully that each pass looked far too delicate to even touch.

He was barefoot, legs now crossed beneath himself as he sat up, staring down at his new get-up with a building sense of confusion and honestly, unease.

That wasn't even half of it. The next thing that Cole's sleep filled eyes were drawn to were the multiple golden necklaces adorned around his neck. The clothing in itself wasn't the best, the low cut shirt was nothing he'd ever choose to wear, but jewellery? And so much of it? Necklaces of varying sizes, with varying styles. Some with more of a chunkier design, interlaced with embedded gems, some that shone blue and deep purples, even some crystals that were clear and perfectly cut were set in their own golden casts, resting heavy around his neck and cold against his skin.

Cole couldn't help but grimace slightly at the sight, and partially at the situation he'd woken up to. His mind was still groggy with sleep, as it was every morning before he'd properly woken up, but sometimes a large enough shock was enough to force his mind into gear. That's exactly what he got when he looked up, the drowsy side of his brain telling him all he was going to see was his bedroom and nothing more.

Nothing more.

That wasn't what he was met with, and the sharp mental slingshot he experienced when what his eyes met didn't correlate with what he'd thought he was going to see made his mouth drop open.

"Holy crap." Cole whispered as his eyes graced over the room.

Not his bedroom, not the Bounty.

He was alert and on edge in mere seconds, shuffling to the edge of a king sized four-poster that was definitely not his own, his eyes flicking between every inch of the room he found himself in. Cole had no idea where he was.

The room was huge by bedroom standards, it was wide, circular in shape as if it had been crafted to fit into a tower, or the outer edges of a palace, because that's the first thing the Earth Master thought as he took in his surroundings.

Everything was varying between shades of near opalescent whites and solid and sheer golds. There were bookcases full of old tomes lining one wall, their pages cracked and wrinkled with time, use, and most likely exposure to the sunlight leaking into the room. The walls stood tall, almost twice the height than those in a regular house, the white finish patterned with ornate golden curves and flurries, some crafted and guided to form the shape of flowers, some budding and some fully open with their petals spread wide; some formed leaves and stems, climbing up higher and higher in an ornate mural to nature. Each stroke seemed to be hand painted to perfection, not a single aspect out of place. The other walls had the same treatment, towering high and covered beautifully with art.

There were chairs dotted around the place, carpets and cushions set out in an organised fashion over the wooden boarded floor, a table with a small stack of what seemed to be notebooks and an assortment of pens and pencils beside them.

Then, just to his left, there was the most elaborate window Cole had ever seen in his life. It stretched floor to ceiling in an arched pattern, twin golden frames curving up and meeting together just before the ceiling began, and a single pane of fitted glass had been oh so carefully slotted in between. An incredible and astounding feat of craftsmanship, only emboldened by the curtains draped down the sides, long enough to collect and bunch on the floor in what nearly seemed like a treasonous act. The golden fabric was almost opaque, doing no significant job of keeping the sunlight out. They were there for futilities sake; serving no purpose other than to look nice in the room and that was it.

Cole stepped just a bit closer to the window, his bare feet tapping lightly on the wooden boards as he neared the looking glass which currently only displayed the world outside as a layer of blue with multiple different blankets of clouds dotted over the skyscape.

That was all he could see before he was halted in his step half-way between the bed and one possible way outside, by a force that held his arms back and almost tripped him in his step.

The situation he was in changed in that single instant, from a clear sense of uncertainty and wariness of waking up in a completely unknown environment; to immediately being on edge and alert for any possible dangers that could be shrouded in the room that seemed to be built for royalty.

All Cole could do was stare back towards his bed, specifically at the floor, and wonder how he hadn't noticed it before. Maybe it was the shock of the room, or overall being thrown into the new situation, but it had now become something much more threatening.

Lengths of chains were stretched out over the floor, thick links that dragged and scratched with each movement Cole made. Stretching from seemingly some hidden point under the bed over to where he was standing, only then lifting off the floor and reaching up to where they ended, welded neatly onto a set of ornate cuffs that sat tightly around his wrist. How had he not noticed them, how had he not realised--

Chained… I'm chained down and the first thing I notice is the damn room?

Cole found himself staring down at the metal, moving his arms and legs and watching as the four individual lengths of chains shifted with each movement, as if those objects themselves were driving home the fact that they were in fact locked around his wrists and ankles in a present and heavy weight. The chains themselves were bulky, but the cuffs were a whole other thing. They stretched half way up his forearms and Cole couldn't find the seam where the clicked shut, nor a slot for a key to open them up.

They seemed to be one single piece of metal all the way around, they shifted and turned when he moved but they didn't do much else. Mere millimeters away from cutting off circulation to his extremities, and for a way to keep him captive in that one room they had no business being as elegant as they were. Reflecting the sunlight of what occurred to Cole as an ending day, the bright yellows that had cascaded through the window faded further and further into the depths of orange that indicated an oncoming sunset, it gave the cuffs a glow to them. Warm and soft, a sheer oxymoron. The surface of them was etched with light grooves, interspersed with an inset obsidian black stone.

Cole was around five minutes into pulling on the chains, the clang of metal hitting the ground and then being pulled taut to within an inch of its life resounded around the previously quiet room; when he realised the black rock was Vengestone. The cuffs dug into the skin at his wrists, leaving deep grooves and reddened skin in its wake, and whilst his strength was great even without his elemental abilities, even if he had his powers something told him that these chains weren't going to give so easily.

"Come on, come on! Break! Please break, please--!"

It was when blood was drawn that Cole decided to stop, a red line manoeuvring its way down the palm of his hand and his index finger to drip silently onto the floor.

Cole followed suit, sitting down against the side of the bed and just allowing his head to droop forwards. It wasn't in defeat, he wouldn't allow it to be in defeat, he wasn't giving up already. When the pain in his arms subsided he'd just try again, and again afterwards.

Again until he either broke the chains, or pulled the deadbolt out from where it was embedded in the concrete wall underneath the bed.

He just had to wait for his muscles to stop aching before he started up his onslaught on the chains again. The brief respite from activity gave him some time to try and resolve the gaps he had in his memory.

There was a large blank section, starting the day before, as he'd just sat down at the dining table with a brand new and far too large book on Ninjagian Lore and Power, entirely reluctant to open it up even though he did enjoy reading. There was a vast difference between reading for pleasure and mandatory reading, and Cole knew which one he preferred.

Then there was nothing, an empty space in his memories that must have been extensive since he was sure it had been at least a day since he'd been walking the halls of the Monastery. Though the more Cole tried to discern what fitted into the gap, what had occurred that had ended with him waking up in an unknown room who-even-knew-where, chained down, the more the answer eluded him.

Cole grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and tried to find something. Anything. He'd sat down with a book, gone to open it-- nothing.

He'd sat down with a book and opened it, then nothing.

Always nothing.

"Why don't I remember..?" Cole mumbled quietly to himself, his hands fisted tightly at his sides. "Why is everything blank, why can't I think?" He wasn't talking to anyone in particular, but he needed to vent his frustration some way.

All he needed was one thing, one memory! Anything that would just give him something to work with.

That section remained carefully blank.

The room he was in had no reason to look so nice, the mattress at his back shouldn't have felt so soft. It was a cage, no matter what it looked like. The chains around his wrists didn't have enough slack to let him reach the window so they definitely didn't reach the door on the opposite side, it was a gilded cage fit for royalty. Far too lavish. Nauseating almost.

There wasn't anywhere in Ninjago like it, at least no place that Cole could think of off the top of his head.

All the golds and light pouring in from a giant window provided a rolling and extensive view of the fading sky. Then, looking at himself, he realised with startling clarity that he fitted the theme too with what he was wearing. Whites and golds, even the vengestone chains followed suit.

He knew he wasn't getting them off any time soon, but he could definitely make himself feel better. Starting with the golden cords around his neck, lacing his fingers around them and yanking until either the clasps broke or the small chains splintered. They ended up thrown at the opposite wall, landing in a broken and heaped mess, flecks of metal and inlaid gems clanking and bouncing out over the floor as the ruined jewellery landed. Cole then moved on to the bangles around his wrists, twisting and distorting the thin metal until they gave in to strain and broke. Again, discarded in their own wreaked pile.

He was about to move onto the shirt, hands poised to start tearing at the seams and tearing the fabric when the click of a lock quickly drew his attention to the door of the room.

Cole was on his feet in an instant, his arms drawn up and in front of himself in a defensive position. As the door swung open he stood his ground and readied himself for whoever or whatever was about to step inside.

Whether years of fighting against less than human entities in an effort to prevent the destruction of Ninjago, a man who looked just a little bit older than himself walking in hadn't been what Cole had anticipated; but an enemy was an enemy.

He was the one in chains, that man was not. There was an all too present imbalance but that didn't mean that Cole was at a disadvantage. All he had to do was wait for him to step closer, when they were close enough and if there was enough slack on the chains then all it would take was a well timed and solid strike to the side of the head and the man would go down. Clearly, the man had a key to the door, so he'd probably also have something for the cuffs too.

Though with the distance, all Cole could do was stand his ground, stare down his captor and demand some answers.

Only to be completely thrown off by the first words that come out of the guy's mouth.

"Ah, my treasure wakes."

The man proceeded to advance further into the room, closer to where Cole was standing and besides his better judgement, besides the plan he was going to enact just a few seconds ago, the ninja took a few steps back to maintain the distance between the two of them. The words, the almost honey-sweet lilt to them, the way the man's voice made the hair on the back of his neck and his arms prickle. He was on edge in an instant, uneasy, and the look held in the man's eyes as they just seemed to trace over his body was anything but calming. If he was at all bothered by the broken jewellery, he wasn’t letting on.

His eyes were a deep yellow, and not just the cornea, but the entire thing. Almost like a buffed tigers eye gemstone had been dropped into each of his sockets. The man was dressed regally too, flowing robes in vibrant shades of purple and interspersed with golden trim, shoulder length jet black hair clashing sharply with the pale pallor of his skin. There's a crown on his head too, and Cole realises that within the intricate pattern of gold, a yellow veined piece of vengestone was suspended in the centre. It almost looked to be floating.

Still, he was advancing, and Cole's legs coming into contact with the bed frame forced himself to halt his own retreat. He liked to think he was tall, but as the man stopped just in front of him, there was enough of a height difference that it forced the Earth Master to cast his gaze upwards.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up, you were asleep for a lot longer than I'd anticipated but alas, here we are." The man gave a small smile, and Cole's expression blanched as he felt the man's fingers wrap lightly around his left wrist. It was more than easy to bat them away, the motion accompanied by the clank of swinging chains. That rejection didn't seem to perturb the man, who just continued with what he was doing, this time lifting one hand and threading it into the strands of Cole's hair.

One warning, that was enough, but the instant he felt the grip tighten in his hair was the point at which the man was solidly shoved away. There was a light stumble, and Cole's brows were furrowed in indignation, his own hands up in between the two of them to act as a barrier. It hadn't taken much strength to get the guy to move away but the hand yanking at his hair as it was dislodged left a low hum of pain in his temple.

"Don't touch me." He ground out, his fists clenched tightly. He wasn't going to stand there and be handled by a stranger as if he was just something to be admired. That was what he saw in the man's eyes, what he read in his expression even just after a few seconds. Initially, he'd hoped that the assumption was mistaken, but the actions and words?

"I get that I'm a prisoner, but that doesn't mean I'm taking your crap, you touch me again and I'll break your face." Cole spat.

Only to be met with a light and jovial laugh. "Ah, as stoic as your element. I knew there was a reason I picked you." the man spoke, something new and entirely unreadable floating in his eyes, "You're not a prisoner, Cole."

Cole didn't allow himself to bristle at the fact that the man knew his name, most people did nowadays, so he just lifted his wrists and the chains moved with them, his expression shifting carefully to neutral, "Sure, because I definitely don't feel like one."

The man nodded, as if he didn't get the joke. Or maybe he did, he just wasn't going to humour him with the sarcasm he'd tried to use. There was a brief moment when the room fell into silence, only for the man to break it quickly by crouching down and picking two loose loops of chain in his hands, rolling the golden links over in his palm for a brief second as he looked over the glinting metal. "Exactly."

Then he tightened his grip and pulled in one fluid motion. Cole's arms were yanked forwards first, the chains dragging the cuffs with them only caused him to stumble forwards and forcibly bridge the gap he'd just made between the two of them. His hands were pulled down to his side by the unyielding chains grasped in the man's hold.

It was embarrassing, but any other feeling was quickly overtaken by the situation as a whole. He hadn't even noticed what the man had been doing before it was too late, he hadn't even spared a second glance when he'd stooped to lift the chains, Cole hadn't even thought twice about what he'd planned. He'd just watched it all play out like an idiot.

He twisted his wrists in the shackles, pulling upwards against the opposing strength but whoever that guy was, there was no contention of who was stronger in that situation. He simply held the chains in one hand by his side, preventing Cole from lifting his arms to any significant degree.

They were chest to chest, the man's face crooning down to his own with an all too soft expression, "You're my guest. You're safe here."

The unnerving calm of the man's manner was opposed by the seething vitriol that the Earth Ninja managed to muster as he glared back. Their faces were mere inches apart, solid yellow eyes boring down into his own.

Again, like before, he felt the man's free hand lift into his hair, looping a longer strand around one of his fingers. There wasn't time to take in the discomfort that came with the light touch as Cole shook his head to dislodge the hold.

This time, it didn't do much good. The hand was there again, fingers carding through like before.

He wanted nothing more than to deliver on the previous promise of breaking the guys face, if it meant just getting him to let go and go away, but with his hands pinned down and no way to manoeuvre out the situation at hand, he forced out a heavy breath and decided on a much more logical approach. If all options are exhausted, go from a different angle.

If he couldn't break the man's hold, he'd talk. Get more information, try and fill the gap in his memory. Stall for time and find an opening. Something.

"I'm not a guest, but if I'm not a prisoner, then what am I?" Cole questioned, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as he felt the strangers hand tug lightly on the back of his hair. "Why am I here?"

The man gave a chuckle, his hand blessedly dropping away from his hair only to get the ghost of fingers caressing lightly over his cheek. Then when he felt the full warm touch cupping the side of his face, Cole couldn't keep the repulsed look at bay as he tilted his head as far as he could in the other direction.

There was a sudden flash of irritation, but that quickly quashed under a careful sigh as if he'd never been phased to begin with. Though it was preceded by a glowing glare in his eyes, the different scars that Cole could now see cleaved through the man's hair, leaving present but healed grooves. Then there was the grin, the all too white smile and the sharpened canines that he could see now that they were far too close quarters, "That's not of any importance, you're here now and that's all that matters."

In that instant, unannounced, memories came flooding back.

The rumours that he and his brothers had heard about a travelling sorcerer. A man, passing from village to village who generally stayed on the rural outskirts of Ninjago. Whether it was to stay under the radar or something else, any and all pertinent news tended to find its way to them at one point or another.

An unknown man who would charm the locals and spend a few days at each new location, for then to simply raze the area to the ground and move on.

He'd disappear for a few days and then crop up again, seemingly as bedraggled as he had been that very first time the man had shown his face. No trace of the kindness the previous villages had expressed to him, no gifts of fresh clothes to replace the worn ones that were practically falling from his body. He would just stay, wreak havoc, and then move on. With each new village, the end result seemed to get worse and worse. It started with harvests being culled, vast fields of rice rotting and dead. Then, homes had been targeted. Old, dried wooden beams weakened with rot and mould that worked its way from the inside out until the houses collapsed.

Every time the ninja had heard of this mystery man being in a certain area, all they constantly arrived to find where displaced lives, ruined livelihoods. But always too late. They all helped in any way they could, clean-up crew, basic first aid, collected as much information they could, then like every other time before that they just returned back to the monastery with nothing more than a feeling of uselessness.

It had taken their collective force around a week to figure out who this wandering destroyer was, and Sensei Wu had been fairly insightful even if what he had provided had been a bedtime story he'd been told of in his youth. It was exactly the man they'd been searching for.

A powerful sorcerer by the name of Acacius had used to travel the land during the time of the First Spinjitzu Master. A wanderer. He'd go from place to place, areas of power as Sensei Wu had dubbed them, and drain it all dry. Then move on to the next place. He'd done it for decades, terrorising people and elemental masters alike, draining life away from lands, destroying crops, removing life forces. Apparently when a story was told by the man who had split apart a continent and created a realm, there was no moral or warning, just information and a true tale. Either way, it was also a pretty dark bedtime story.

The story ended as most did, with the heroes triumphing over evil. Though it wasn't anything large or garish, it was resolved quietly.

The First Spinjitzu Master had finally caught up with this incredibly powerful sorcerer, this creature twisted on stolen power and a near incandescent drive for more, and had locked him away. Where? That hadn't been important to the story. Apparently vagueness ran in the family.

Cole remembered listening to the story before picking up a book on ancient lore, flipping straight to the back and to the index of the tome, tracing his finger carefully down the letters until he found Acacius.

Before he'd even focused properly on the list, the front gates of the Monastery had ruptured inwards, followed by a sheer cascade of energy that had ricocheted through the halls and blown all their written notes clean off the dining table and onto the floor.

They'd all grabbed their weapons and headed to the courtyard of the Monastery in seconds, facing a man-- Acacius, no longer dressed in rags, no longer lying to appeal to the good nature of caring people. He was standing tall, back straight, a wicked grin on his lips which only seemed to widen further when both Lloyd and Wu had stepped out to face this ancient enemy.

Cole remembered that they'd fought. They'd fought and fallen, been batted into the stone walls encasing their home and watched as different sections fell down and crumbled around their brothers, who proceeded to get up and join the fray again with no second thought to injuries. No one could seem to get close enough to the sorcerer, charging at Acacius with unrelenting synchronisation though all the while he continued to laugh about how it had been so easy to find them.

Creation and Energy, both in one place? It's almost easy pickings, I could sense you from miles away!

The voice was deep, it vibrated through Cole's core with the power the words alone exuded. It was clear how the man had been able to hold his ground, however briefly, against the First Spinjitzu Master.

It promptly became a fight to protect Lloyd and Sensei Wu and the power they both possessed. Only it didn't end like that.

Cole was the only one who'd managed to get some form of a significant hit in. He'd shuck the ground with a light stamp of his foot, and the fissure that had split the inlaid stone of the courtyard was enough to cause a mere second of distraction for the sorcerer.

He'd charged forwards, and had kept going even as Acacius had locked eyes with his own. His legs were already moving and there was already so much momentum, all Cole needed to do was commit and swing his hammer. The attack wasn't his best, and with a last minute shift from the sorcerer, it left him swinging that bit too wide. Initially, he'd thought it would miss in its entirety, yet the weighted metal had scarcely managed to clip the man's jaw enough to throw him off balance.

In the following seconds, he had felt a hand pressed to his forehead, and the world had flickered to black.

Then he'd woken up.

Cole couldn't help but stumble at the sudden flood of information, the gap in his memory all too quickly blazed with missing images and memories, enough that the abrupt movement had caught both him and his captor- Acacius, off guard.

It took one step back and his legs clipped the edge of the bed frame, the obstacle only caused him to fall backwards onto the mattress. Though he recovered quickly and used that short moment to put more space in between him and the sorcerer, pulling his wrists and yanking the chains until all the slack that he had was now on his side of the bed and couldn't be used by the man as a immobilisation tactic again.

Acacius, who hadn't shifted from where he'd been standing beforehand, had a large grin plastered over his face. His gaze seemed almost soft, almost caring even; it only served to make Cole shudder.

"I visited your home to gain more power." He explains after a short moment of quiet, his gaze resolutely fixed on where Cole was standing, Acacius almost seemed annoyed at the bed between them, "So many elemental masters in one place, it was like a buffet." He took a deep breath in, his eyes closing. It was almost like he was being chided for the circumstances that had led the man to their home. Not that there had been any feasible way to find out in such a short space of time that Lloyd and Sensei Wu would be at risk.

Why he'd decided to change tact and take him instead, Cole wasn't sure. If there was power, as much as he hated that he even thought it, Lloyd was the logical pick. Though between any one of his family and himself, if he knew that they'd end up locked and chained in the room he was in now, staring back at a powerful sorcerer with an unknown plan and newfound freedom after being imprisoned; Cole was glad it was him in that situation.

"But then I saw you," Acacius continued, "And my plans changed just a little. I've always liked you Earth Masters, you see." He kept his gaze on his captive as he took a short step to the side, one that Cole mirrored in the opposite direction. The sorcerer seemed amused by the reaction. "You have a lot of power, sure, nothing comparable to Creation or Energy but you're definitely up there. You can direct energy, just like I can. I'm sure you can make nature flourish with just a small nudge," He says, it's more of a question than a statement, and Cole almost answers before he caught himself and closed his mouth again. "My power decreased vastly over my… Many decades being imprisoned, but you. You can help me."

At that, the short step the man had taken previously turned into a stride as he circled around the bed. Cole had both feet on top of the mattress in a second, intent on cutting over to the other side but a hand clasped around his wrist halted any significant plan of getting away. He should have moved faster, but what the sorcerer was planning, it had him stumped. His power didn't redirect energy, it made the earth shake. Sure, maybe plants grew around him, grass seemed to be greener in his presence, but that wasn't energy, that was just his element. That short moment of being lost in thought was a moment too much.

He was dragged from the bed with a yelp, his back shoved sharply against the wall and the grip on his wrist tightened to a near bruising hold that made him grit his teeth against the pain.

Acacius was hemming him in, more so than before. With the wall at his back there wasn't anywhere he could retreat to, and with the bed to his left and his captor looming too close to his right he was well and truly backed into a corner.

"Think about it," He hummed in a whispered tone, "With your power, you can move energy around more freely than I can. Maybe only to plant life and through the earth currently, but given time, you can learn to transfer it to me." Cole simply stared, was he really giving away what he was planning? That he just wanted more power, and a constant supply of it? That Cole could help with it and that was why he'd taken him? Why his powers were locked down with Vengestone instead of being drained away at the hands of this power hungry ancient being?

Trapped where he was, listening to Acacius liking the sound of his own voice, Cole scoffed loudly in the face of the man who was standing far too close, far too in his personal space. It was uncomfortable and he wasn't a fan of being pulled around by his wrist and chains as if that was what it took to have a civilised conversation. There was no being civil about anything, so he wasn't going to be polite in return. There wasn't much that was going to stop him from throwing a wrench into his plans, being spoken down to was more than enough to develop a solid dislike of a person, though before he could say anything along the lines of no, that's never going to happen. You have about two days before my brothers find me and you, and then less than a week until you're imprisoned again.

He had faith, and the speed of which they reacted to a situation increased tenfold when someone they cared about was in danger.

"You're so beautiful."

Cole froze in place, his eyes widening just a fraction at what he'd just heard. It was said with a quiet sigh, the warm puff of air just beside his face. He grimaced, pushing himself back into the wall to just try in vain to get further away from the man. The situation had taken a turn, a very dangerous turn.

"... What?" He questioned, his voice carefully measured. It gave nothing away, though he was sure his eyes were being windows to his soul. He could feel the tenseness in his body, the rush of adrenaline through his muscles.

Cole felt the grip that was latched around his wrist move down to his hand. His mind was moving a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he'd missed about his current circumstances. Usually prisoners were taken in order to give said person no other choice but to carry out the demands of their captor, or outright refuse and await rescue, whatever the repercussions may be. He had been taken prisoner because of his supposed complimentary power to the sorcerer, but he could clearly see that wasn't the whole story. Was this supposed affection the driving force behind everything, or was it all part of some larger plan in place?

There must have been so much more to it, there had to be.

Or maybe there wasn't. Maybe his powers and how they could apparently be used was the added bonus in this situation.

Cole took in a sharp breath, and solidified his gaze, "I don't care what you think, or what you want from having me here, but I'm not helping you with anything." He spat out.

Acacius lent forward, his voice close enough to Cole's ear that he shuddered, leaning away as much as he could. He forced himself to remain calm, ignoring the man's advances in favour of staring at the door that was just left hanging open as if tempting something he couldn’t have. Outside, there seemed to be a corridor that went off in either direction, but even if he could get out of the sorcerer's hold, he still wouldn't be able to leave. Not with the chains.

He really was counting on his brothers this time, placing faith in the fact that they would find out where he was, that they'd come barging in, breaking down the door and freeing him. He needed them to come in at that very moment. The silent hope that they'd walk in any second depleted as the seconds ticked by.

"The great thing is, Cole, I don't need you to be okay with helping me increase my power." Acacius pulled back just a little, his solid eyes dancing slowly over Cole's face, as if looking for something, or waiting.

"When we're married," He started, and Cole felt a lead weight drop down in his stomach, but before he could say anything against it, laugh, roll his eyes, lash out, anything at all, Acacius continued on as if what he was saying was completely normal. "I'll get to keep you all to myself. Your power will be mine to wield, and mine alone.” His voice was so carefully measured, “I don't need you to agree to my plans, I just need to keep you here for a few more days. What did you say, two days ? And your friends will be here? You'd better hope you're correct, my sweet." A thumb was stroked carefully over his cheek.

Cole saw red in an instant, and closed in against a wall or not, mind still reeling and trying to take in and just compute what he'd just heard; he could work on instinct when everything else failed. Instinct brought a hand up, balled tightly into a fist and whilst the impact that was made between his knuckles and his captors nose wasn't anything to shout about, the clank of the chains being permeated by a shout of pain and what was hopefully the crack of cartilage was music to Cole's ears.

The action was over before he'd even realised what he'd done, but the aftereffects were a sight. Acacius collected himself off the floor from where he'd fallen backwards, hands held resolutely over his face to presumably stem the blood flow and conceal a broken nose.

Cole wasn't smiling though, his heart was racing, his teeth were clenched as he stepped closer to his captor.

"My power isn't yours to use!"

The Earth Master dropped down into a fighting stance, his gaze set on the sorcerer as he got up. Yet, when he stood up straight and moved his hand away from his face there wasn't the pouring line of red blood dripping from his nostrils that Cole had anticipated. It was black, flowing like ink from a quill, dripping off his chin and staining the floorboards below. Surprisingly, there was no anger in the man's eyes, just an unusual admiration and to Cole's disgust, a fondness that was now clearly at the surface. Teeth were bared in a small grin, the black blood staining his teeth when it found its way into his mouth.

He'd fought worse enemies before, and he'd inevitably do it again in the future. This man… This thing, he would just be another name on an ever growing list. Cole tilted his head until his neck popped lightly, then clenched his knuckles until those joints followed suit. He was at a disadvantage, but he wasn't going to lose this fight.

His anger just spiked sharply with every second they stared at each other. "You can't make me do anything. I'm not marrying anyone, I'm not helping you with your energy addiction and I'm not just going to sit back and do nothing!"

Acacius seemed to be taking all the time in the world righting himself, starting with tugging on his waistcoat to flatten the crumples back down, to pulling a pure white handkerchief out of a hidden pocket to wipe at the black ooze still falling from his nose. It didn't do much, only serving to smear what was there, but he didn't seem too bothered by it, nor the blackened stains that had fallen onto his clothes. No, his attention was stoically set on Cole.

He didn't take a step forward this time, almost as if he was treating his prisoner like a frightened animal, which he wasn't. Though he was fairly predisposed to fight back in an instant should he feel at all threatened. Cole hadn't moved out of his fighting stance, and wasn't going to any time soon. That was clear.

"You must be pretty exhausted, with all this thinking and worrying." came the man's voice, softly spoken over the space that had formed between them.

All that was gained in return was a raised eyebrow and a scowl.

Acacius spread his hands carefully, and Cole could have sworn that the man’s eyes seemed to flicker with an all too sudden yellow glow.

There was a minute step closer, the sole of the sorcerer's shoes clicking against the wood as he said, "You don't want to fight me, perhaps some sleep will do you some good."

The effect was instant, the words… They seemed to resonate so deeply, cascade around the room in a reverberating wave until they met Cole's ears, crashing down and enveloping his mind in a sudden and palpable haze.

His arms dropped from their defencive stand, hanging loosely down at his sides. His eyes followed suit, eyelids growing heavy in mere seconds, the drag of sleep so instant and all encompassing that he'd never felt such sheer levels of exhaustion in his life.

It felt wrong.

"What-- what did you do..?" Cole questioned, his words slurred and drawn out, his tongue heavy in his mouth. The question was quiet, whispered, and broken by a large yawn that came up from nowhere.

He could feel his body shutting down, any drive to fight the man that was stepping closer had all but faded out of existence. He didn't want to fight, he could even keep his eyes open. All he wanted was to sleep.

Cole's legs were the first to buckle, but he didn't hit the ground. Acacius was by his side in an instant, one arm weaved carefully around his waist to support his weight and keep him more or less upright. The other hand came to rest on the back of his head, guiding it until his cheek was resting against his captors shoulder as his eyes fluttered, his mind trying to force himself to stay awake. That small part, struggling to keep cognitive thought running through his sleep laden mind.

"I just helped you, my sweet." Was the reply, the voice flowing past the fog in his head as if it wasn't even there, trying to keep wakefulness at bay. Acacius's voice was clear, perfectly so. The clearest thing in the whole room. "I can't have you worried, you see? Constantly alert for any opportunity to escape, ruining my plans, you don't want that, do you?"

Cole finds himself tuning in to the sickly sweet voice, his head shaking in a silent no against the man's shoulder, before he caught himself, his mind snapping back to reality, but a second was enough to drive himself to speak around the forced slumber.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" there was a small breath, almost a laugh, but not quite there. The hand on his head moved lightly, fingers carding back and forth through his hair in a rhythmic fashion. Cole wanted nothing more than to reach up, drag the touch away and beat the guy until he was a blackened grease smear on the floor, but he couldn't make his body move.

He could just feel it relax more and more, the tenseness of his muscles falling away as his body collapsed, resting fully against the sorcerers chest.

"Sleep, my treasure.” The voice almost echoed around his head, the words blanketing, all-encompassing. “We will be wed before the week is done. You're safe here, this is the best place you could be."

His eyes slipped closed, body slumping entirely in the man's hold, breathing slowed in the throes of the forced rest.

"Sleep."

Cole's mind finally gave in.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #cole #cole brookstone #cole ninjago #angst #cole ninjago angst #fic #magic #this was originally a small idea but we all know what happens #long post #mcfanely writes #mcfanely #tw mind control #Treasure AU #mcfanely aus

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