#Mina is a human woman capable of so many things and she will never be at fault for this tragedy no matter how many times she tells that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hinotorihime · 2 years

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so chapter 3/the may 16th entry of dracula is actually one of the pillars of my argument that Dracula Is A Love Story.

the central point of dracula is that humans loving each other matters; that ordinary people can stand against darkness and evil simply by the strength of their connections to each other. dracula is old and powerful, but he is, fundamentally, alone.

dracula cannot love. this is what defeats him in the end.

spoiler-laden and very long discussion under the cut.

we learn some interesting and important things from the scene of dracula and the vampire women. first, dracula’s own peers don’t even like him. the relationship between them is overtly hostile, with the women disobeying dracula’s orders and being restrained only by his superior strength:

I saw his strong hand grasp the slender neck of the fair woman and with giant's power draw it back, the blue eyes transformed with fury, the white teeth champing with rage, and the fair cheeks blazing red with passion. ... With a fierce sweep of his arm, he hurled the woman from him, and then motioned to the others, as though he were beating them back; it was the same imperious gesture that I had seen used to the wolves.

the vampires are equated explicitly with wolves-- not as the family structure we now know wolf packs to be, but rather as a group of vicious and naturally solitary killers who are forced to band together under the power of the strongest one for the sake of acquiring food.

then we get this exchange:

"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him:—

"You yourself never loved; you never love!"

more evidence of the disdain, hatred, and perhaps fear that the other vampires hold for the count; it hints at a history that we never actually get, but can perhaps guess at, especially in the immediate context of the scene (the women attempting to prey on jonathan), which frames a vampiric attack, very very obviously, as a sexual assault. and it expresses, flat-out, in so many words, a core theme of the novel: dracula cannot love as humans do.

dracula tries to refute this claim, in a very unconvincing way:

Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper:—

"Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will.”

yes, tumblr, this is the homoerotic cherry on top of the homoerotic ice cream, but like...

consider the parallels between the implications of this statement and this passage from jonathan in chapter XXII, which is incidentally my favorite line in this entire book and has lived in my brain rent-free for ten years:

To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.

like. okay! okay then!! jesus christ. hang on a second i need a moment.

fundamentally what stoker is doing in chapter III is drawing a distinction between the selfless, self-sacrificing love that the human characters will later demonstrate for each other (jonathan’s for mina, or lucy’s suitors for her--

What can I do?" asked Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me, and I shall do it. My life is hers, and I would give the last drop of blood in my body for her." ... "If you only knew how gladly I would die for her you would understand——" [chapter X]

)

and the “love” that dracula expresses for jonathan in this scene, which is no more in the end than a malicious possessiveness over his food. maybe when the count was a mortal man he was capable of loving in a mortal way-- his words to the vampire women seem almost wistful or nostalgic to me. but look at the contrast between lucy’s deep love and playful affection for her boys when she was alive and, well, this:

Lucy's eyes in form and colour; but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell-fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. ... With a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a devil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur; when she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands.

She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, said:—

"Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!"

There was something diabolically sweet in her tones—something of the tingling of glass when struck—which rang through the brains even of us who heard the words addressed to another. As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell; moving his hands from his face, he opened wide his arms. [chapter XVI]

the revenant that was lucy retains her memories, but none of her human feeling; arthur’s love for her becomes no more than a tool to manipulate him into being her next meal.

vampires are incapable of love.

they are incapable of true community, too; fundamentally outcasts, fundamentally loners, who only group together under duress for the sake of hunger or the threat of violence. and it is due, in the end, to this incapability that they are defeated. for all his power, dracula dies unceremoniously at the hands of a bunch of young men who care deeply for each other and would do anything for jonathan harker’s wife. there’s a hope in that, and a comfort. as samuel vimes once said: it’s better to light a flamethrower than to curse the darkness.

or, in terms stoker would have been more familiar with: the light shines in darkness, and the darkness cannot comprehend it.

a final note: it would be remiss of me to ignore the unfortunate implications of the very queer framing of this assault scene-- other people have talked about the way that the homoeroticism of dracula’s claiming of jonathan, and the implicit feminization of jonathan-as-gothic-ingenue, was in context intended to increase the horror factor, and about the way it probably reflects stoker’s complex feelings about his own sexuality. the idea that homosexuality is “not really love” or, worse, is inherently assault, is still prevalent in today’s society, and my interpretation of this scene unfortunately cannot escape those undercurrents. the incorporation of these themes in the novel is masterful writing, and would also be rightly considered abhorrent if it were published today. ah, the art of literary criticism!

#dracula #dracula daily #dracula spoilers #literary analysis #dracula meta #mine #something here also about unholiness and the repulsion of vampires by the cross and the eucharist #the two major symbols of god's ultimate self-sacrificial love for humanity #and 'god is love' = 'love is godly'#but i need a bit longer to develop and then articulate those thoughts

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lifeofkaze · 2 years

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Happy FFWF! 🧡 You know what I’m going to ask you…

Each of your OCs has a story with an overarching theme. What are these themes, and how did they develop with the characters and their stories?

And you know this question is the sole reason I'm actually playing this week 💛 So let's go:

Selene: There's many things going on with Selene but if you break it down, her theme is about the struggle between the responsibility we have to take for others vs. the wish and need to be our own persons and live out or freedom.

Caro: Everything about Caro is about the definition of beauty and her changing perception of it as she grows up. The theme kind of was always there and evolved into different aspects over time, with Brady as an artist showing her the beauty beyond the bare practical use of things, to her sister being scarred for life, to her issues with her own self-worth.

Henry: Henry's story deals with all of our bane, the impostor syndrome. With his gift for sensing the stories in the world surrounding him, he develops a fear of forgetting any of them and also being forgotten yet he never fully believes he is capable of telling his own story. Much of this as well as his unhappy love story came to me in a rush of angst where Henry spilled his heart to me, lol.

Caitlin: Caitlin suffers a lot by Selene not telling her the truth about her father and it’s the main reason for the troubled relationship with her mother. She is all about finding her roots and learning that only because someone is different and has different values it doesn’t mean that they’re a bad person. This was her concept all along but she was never meant to be more than a link in the family tree so her story was greatly expanded.

Lizzie: As my main girl, Lizzie has the most big fics and thus the most themes going on. But one thing that pops up in all of them is the theme of making mistakes, and that making mistakes is human and okay as long as you learn from them. The road to happiness is never straight, after all (thank you for the contribution, Orion 🙄). She is the OC who has developed the most and least out of all of them alongside these themes because she made the jump from self-insert to OC but from then on (aside from her plot line in Source of Balance) most of her story was set very early on.

Ava: It’s hard to talk about Ava without spoiling her story, but the main theme with her is forgiveness and learning to forgive - others as well as herself. Same as Lizzie, this was her theme from the very beginning.

Mina: Mina is one of my more realistic and relatable OCs, I think. For her story she had to learn how to grow out of her comfort zone and face the more bitter parts of life to come out on top. She was originally meant to focus more on overcoming her phobia of reptiles but it turned into her current theme pretty early on.

Dana: Dana’s main struggle is the idea modern society has of how a young, independent woman should be. She knows it’s a privileged to be able to do what you love for a living, but deep in her heart she also feels that this is not what is fulfilling her and she wishes for a more traditional life. This is something about her I realised only very recently. I didn’t want to give her the angst but she literally begged me for it.

Dylan: Dylan is all about the (realistic) miscommunication between men and women. As funny as it sounds, especially when there are actual problems involved, his stoic approach can often come across as cold or him not caring and he has to learn to take people expressing their emotions more intensely than him seriously. This concept developed alongside Dana’s angst fest, naturally.

Reva: Reva pushed her theme on me with all her power and it took me a while to understand what she wanted from me. Interestingly enough, her concept is the one who translated from concept to the actual writing process. Only when I let her out of her old ship and my plans for her and let her discover her own self and her self-love was she ready to truly let people in and love someone else.

#ask game #ffwf #lizzie jameson #ava campbell #mina pendleton #selene fraser #carolyn nyberg #henry lovecraft #caitlin fraser #danielle parkin #dylan amari #reva amari

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

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Killer Party || Morgan & Erin

Location: Erin’s place

Timing: Current

Parties: @corpse--diem & @mor-beck-more-problems

Summary: A dead girl and a funeral director roll into a backyard with a bounce house. Soft friendship ensues.

Erin surveyed her backyard, and after shuffling around a few potted plants and some outdoor furniture, she wondered for the first time if there actually was enough room for a bouncy castle. What an unlikely predicament she’d found herself in here. Of all the problems she could list, this one was almost refreshing. A freshly thawed bowl of eyes sat waiting for Morgan when she arrived, just as promised. Already off to a good start to a two-month death day anniversary, right? This could be normal. As normal as a 35 year old woman about to trade some magical rocks for a bouncy house a few short weeks after she’d murdered someone could be. Morgan had a way about her that really did lift her spirits and distract her from everything else. And that’s because she wasn’t normal. She was just as weird and confident in that weirdness as Erin was. Until she got here? Erin slipped into one of the patio chairs, sipping on a fresh glass of whiskey. Rustling grass broke her thoughts and in an instant she was on her feet, hand moving to the knife she now permanently kept at her side. “Oh fuck, Morgan,” she breathed out some of between a sigh and a nervous laugh. “Sorry, you scared the shit out of me.” Seemed to be a trend with their meetings. She moved her hand from the hilt of the knife, smoothly and slowly, giving a wave. “Is being ridiculously stealthy just a zombie thing or a Morgan thing?”

Since it was broad daylight, Morgan figured she didn’t need to make more of a fuss than showing up when she said she would with the now deflated bounce house folded under her arm. She came around the back of the house and into the yard, beaming when she saw her friend. “Hey!” She cried brightly. When Erin whirled, a hand on a knife at her hip. Morgan jumped back, brow furrowed with as much confusion as concern. She hadn’t taken Erin for the kind of person who was capable of the ‘stab first, ask questions later’ mentality. That was hunter bullshit. Fear-based, ignorant, impulsive in the worst way. “Y-yeah…” she said slowly. “I uh, I can see that.” She nodded at Erin’s hip, indicating that she’d seen exactly what Erin had been about to do. She had practiced too much with Mina and seen Deirdre arm herself for the day too often not to notice the bulge of the sheath. What had happened to Erin between a radio party in the embalming room and now? She looked like she’d been wrung through one of those old industrial machines too many times, flattened and drained. “I’ve always been really quiet when I walk,” she said. “I brought this for you.” She took the folded up plastic and laid it on one of the patio chairs slowly. “You uh...maybe wanna play some catch up on what’s been going on with you first?”

The alarm in Morgan’s reaction was enough to send a guilt-ridden warmth up Erin’s cheeks. “Sorry,” she said again, quieter, more sincere, watching her set the bouncy castle down. “Can never be too careful in my line of work, you know?” She almost physically cringed at her own hurried, cliche of an excuse. Took a breath, let it settle, and finally offered her friend a more sincere smile. “It’s been… a time, yeah.” To say the least. Diving right in with murder plots didn’t seem like the right move here, though. She held up a finger, her smile purposefully widening. “But first thing’s first!” she moved to the bowl on the table beside her, holding it out in front of her and made a show of lifting the lid off of it with another one. “Happy Two Month Deathiversary!” she bellowed dramatically, brimming with enthusiasm. She set the lid down, digging into her pocket for the bag of stones that almost made a home in her garden. “Ta-da! Your adder rocks, as promised, my fine zombie friend.”

Somehow, Erin’s underground organ trade hadn’t read as ‘violently dangerous’ to Morgan until now. She had pictured people like herself lining up discreetly or pulling up in their Hondas in the dead of night, sheepishly collecting a meal of brains or blood or whatever else discreetly and driving away. Maybe a few underground transplants or some mad science supply gathering, but nothing that warranted reaching for a knife. But there was something too real in the way Erin’s face clouded with shame. It hadn’t been a vague nightmare, but something her muscles were remembering an occasion for. Morgan’s frown softened. “It’s okay,” she said, hoping they weighed enough to cover whatever Erin had gone through recently.

She couldn’t help but beam at the bowl of eyes and the bag of adder stones. “Thanks, Erin, my fine funeral organ dealing friend.” she said and came over to give the woman a hug. “Ooh, and look at all the colors!” She picked up a blue eye, then a brown one, popping them in her mouth. “If I told you they had different flavors, would you believe me?” She asked, mouth half full. She swallowed, continuing, “This really is great of you. And as promised, I have normal, human nacho fixings in my bad, but I wanted them to be nice and fresh for you. And while I work, maybe you can tell me what’s got you looking for knife fights around every corner? Or is that more of an after testing the bounce house? As you know, I am a very flexible gal, but I would like an explanation.”

Normal. Erin had to laugh quietly at herself as Morgan’s arms wrapped around her, hands full with eyeballs and stones. As she watched Morgan chow down on her celebratory snacks, she wasn’t sure why she was still trying to integrate that word into her life anymore. Didn’t mean much to begin with, really. This was her normal and if this was the kind of thing that made her friends happy on the reminder of what she could only assume was a horrible fucking day? She’d take it. “Really?” she raised a brow, glancing down at the kaleidoscope of irises between them. “I mean, you’re the one eating them, so,” she shrugged. “What color tastes like what? Anything comparable to human food?” Of course she had to ask. How could she not?

Morgan’s insistence left her as annoyed as she was grateful, but it wasn’t an unfair demand. Erin had almost pulled a knife on her. Talking about this still felt weird despite having these new safe spaces to do just that. Nodding, she poked around the bag, the warm, cheesy goodness promising nothing but good things. “I feel like I probably shouldn’t jump around with a stomach full of nachos,” she glanced over, the quick anger that flared up simmering. “After?” She asked hopefully, giving her a gentle nudge. “It’s your day after all.” Felt odd to word it like that but she couldn’t think of a better explanation. Paused for a moment in between reaching for the bouncy castle and trying to figure out how to execute this layout to catch Morgan’s gaze. “How are you feeling? Really?”

Morgan reached for another eyeball and grinned. “Well, you know how skittles are mostly the same but they got that hint of artificial flavor between all the different colors? Well these—” She swallowed and reached for another one and made it look at Erin. “Aren’t anything like that. If there’s a difference, it’s more like the blue m&ms versus the green ones.” She smirked, her expression wide and mischievous.

She went to the bounce house and started the air pump that came with it. It was almost a relief, delaying the nachos and the heavy talk. She was doing so much talk lately; everyone she knew was suffering and she had nothing to offer them for it in return, sometimes not even words. And now Erin too? Morgan wanted to swallow her own angst down and put it away. She had just started to fix the balance of her good days and bad days. She had it easier than most. She was loved. She was as medically stable as a zombie could be. And yet when Erin asked her question she sighed, wrestling with the urge to vomit everything up. “Trying not to think about how I still don’t have my shit together,” she said with a sad smirk. “I’m not even cursed anymore, you know? And two months in the—not the ground, but, doing the dead girl disco.” She unfolded everything and pushed the button, let the pump do its work. “Are you where my antidepressant dealer gets the cerebrospinal fluid for my meds?” She asked. “Because that’s a thing. I think it has to be fresh though, so, maybe not? But—everything is mostly fine. Just need to figure out what comes next. Easy-peasy, right?”

Erin raised her eyebrows at the eyeball staring back at her, taking in Morgan’s explanation with a confused but genuine laugh. “They all taste exactly the same, though?” She countered, tone lilting into a question as she suddenly doubted every handful of M&M’s she’d ever popped into her mouth. “But--sure, fine. You’re the eyeball aficionado here.”

With the pump doing all the work for them, there wasn’t much to do but watch as it started to slowly, very slowly, come to life. She sat back onto the grass, hoping that the weird shape and color of this thing would make more sense once it wasn’t a deflated clump. Her eyes turned up to Morgan as she spoke and felt her heart pull a little for her friend. “If it helps, I think most people don’t have their shit together. They’re just really good at faking. Present company included,” she smiled softly back at her. “Oh, yeah. Just buy a day planner and you’re all set.” She teased, giving a curt nod. Antidepressant dealer? Shit. For a moment, Erin thought this was leading to a joke. Punchline never came, though, and she sat up a little straighter, shoulders tensing. Guess she was a connection to that world, even if all she dealt in was body parts. Her mind immediately jumped to Felix again. “I don’t know anything about that, but I probably know someone who does,” she shrugged. “If you’re serious about that.”

“That was the joke, Erin,” Morgan said with a wink. “Cute colors on the outside, same old goodness on the inside. Although, I will swear that there’s a hint of a superior difference with the brown ones. On both accounts. Call it my aficionado taste.”

Erin at least wasn’t suffering so much that she couldn’t join in with Morgan on her wry humor, and this gave Morgan a few crumbs of comfort. She had powered through enough talks while cursed and suffering to know that it didn’t mean whatever she carried was light. She had pulled a knife on her of all things. “Oh, I got the hookup from this guy, Felix? I just know he’s got to get the raw goods from somewhere. I can’t let it bug me too much, though. A gal’s gotta stay off the floor and keep trucking somehow. And I already want another human brain, so there’s no point in being cute about some spinal fluid. I’m an eater of flesh, consumer of viscera and weird creepy bits of the dead.” She shrugged, trying to smooth out the edge in her that had sharpened her voice. “And a person,” she forced herself to add. “A still very cute person, I might add. And, hey, I’ve always heard that bullet journaling would totally be my thing. Maybe I can sticker and doodle my way into a sense of purpose.”

Erin couldn’t stop the massive eye roll that came over her. “Smartass,” she chuckled, feeling a little bit of the tightness in her chest loosen. For a moment, anyway. “Looks like we’ve got the same hookup then.” Sometimes she forgot just how small this damn town was. It wasn’t hard to miss the tension in the very pointed way she was describing herself. Like she had to vocalize it, in tangent with being a ‘person’, to remind even herself it was true. “You are a person,” Erin insisted, smiling softly. “Very cute and very much a person. One of my favorite people, at that. And a good friend,” she added. It was hard to forget not everyone would agree. Alain came to mind, and maybe a few months ago she would have agreed with his stance on all things undead. A guilty warmth at just the thought briefly reddened her skin and she looked away to watch the inflatable again. “Sure, you eat weird stuff now. So do a lot of people. Have you ever met a vegan?” she teased gently, glancing back up at her. “And if you ever forget, or need a reminder about that person thing, you know you can call me, right?”

Morgan watched the squid unfold and lift itself up into shape as Erin spoke. Her smile turned watery. She’d known, somehow, that Morgan was teetering over the edge and pulled her back just in time. She smirked at the vegan comment. “You know, we don’t get that many in Texas, but they sure are weird.” She finally turned to Erin, looking up at her with watery eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “That really, um, means a lot from you. I don’t have many friends who are human, who see things like you do. So…” Morgan pulled Erin into a hug, arms wrapped around her middle, head pressing into her shoulder as she forced back her tears. “Thank you. And I will.” She turned back to the bounce house, now towering over them like the friendliest of giants. “Come on, we gotta make sure this baby’s still got all its bounce, right?” She started slipping off her shoes and tugging Erin towards the entrance.

Morgan’s misty eyes tugged at Erin’s heartstrings in a way she didn’t expect. Morgan’s strong but sturdy presence had been equally as unexpected though, hadn’t it? Didn’t even need a beating heart for Erin to recognize how big and accepting it could be. The other woman barely batted an eye at her own darkness, accepting her in full, no questions asked. There’d been a darkness in her too that felt all too familiar and welcoming. “Your other friends are idiots then,” Erin mumbled, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Sometimes you just needed someone you could sit in those shadows with. And sometimes that looked like this--sharing eyeball appetizers and bouncing in a bounce house shaped like a giant squid. Wait. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Erin hesitated at the entrance of the bounce castle as she finally took in the full view of what the bounce castle had grown into.

A motherfucking squid.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” She had to laugh or she’d probably break right then and there. “Nic is going to lose it if he sees this thing,” she groaned, eyes wide and staring at the monstrosity, even as Morgan tugged her along. She slipped off her shoes and followed her anyway. It had to have been at least solid decades since she’d found herself in anything even resembling a bouncy castle and not even the ghost of their squid’s past could stop her from enjoying this. It only took a few modest test jumps to remind her of that and before she knew it, long, overdue laughter spilled from her as she really took flight. “I’m pretty sure this is--” she squealed, grabbing onto Morgan’s shoulder when she lost her footing for a second, laughing even harder. “--the best trade I’ve ever made in my life,” she finished with a grin.

Morgan did a double take at the mention of Nic. “As in Nicodemus?” She quirked a brow, searching Erin’s expression for more context. “Is he--? Are you two--? Oh, stars, you are, aren’t you? Erin! You and--!” She gaped, squealing like a teenger as she stumbled into the bounce house. “I want to know everything. All of it, okay? Oh, and if it’s official, so I know just how much of a hard time to give Nic when I talk to him.” She dove onto her back, letting the inflated floor catch her with a bounce and then scrambled back up to her feet to try a flip, ending in a messy tangle of limbs. “It is--as always--a pleasure doing business with you, Erin.” She giggled and flopped onto her back again, tugging Erin down with her. “But, come on. You gotta tell me something.”

Ah, fuck. Erin cringed and not just at the unexpected high-pitched squeal that erupted from Morgan. She couldn’t believe that for even a moment she’d forgotten Morgan was an active member of the ever-growing Nicodemus Bossier Fan Club. “Everything?” She asked, a twinge of panic straining the laugh that followed. Her bounces slowed as she watched Morgan flail around, until she finally dropped down with her at her urging. The plastic felt cool against her back as they bobbed, the floor settling with their sudden stillness, and she realized right then that she’d never tried to explain out loud what they were to another living (or unliving) soul. “We’re... something?” This would’ve been easier to explain if either of them had been capable or courageous enough to put their thoughts to words. For now, she shrugged and bit down on her bottom lip when a dumb, shy smile started to slip through. “We haven’t actually said that we’re anything. He’s, uh--my best friend, you know? And we care about each other. So it’s definitely something.” A good something, she knew that too. She glanced over to Morgan finally, a wider smile and a hearty laugh loosening her chest. “And I will literally never turn down an opportunity to give him a hard time. Please, do as you must,” she insisted.

Morgan poked her finger into the corner of Erin’s smile, giggling again. “I know how that is. Deirdre and I were ‘something’ for months. When it’s all new and shiny, it’s just like...I mean you want to let whatever it is be its own thing, right? No weird expectations that are gonna break things before they’ve really started. And you don’t want to stop your momentum or anything, you just want to find out where it’s going--or that’s how it is for me, anyway.” She didn’t mention that she hadn’t made it past the ‘something’ stage with a few other women in the past, and the lack of a name, of the legitimacy of language, had made it easier to convince herself that she wasn’t heartbroken by the disappointments. She had a lot more hope for Erin and Nic than she did for her past self. “I’m happy for you guys. And thank you, for the opportunity to give Nic a hard time. Please tell him I’m responsible for the squid bounce house. And I insist on him trying it out. I think it’ll be good for his, uh, stress relief, you know?” She started laughing just imagining the scene. “He’s a pretty cool guy, you know. Did you already tell him about, you know, your whole side hustle thing?”

Erin rolled her eyes, playfully smacking Morgan’s hand away, though she couldn’t disagree with what she was saying. It was delicate, quiet, but it was good. It was relieving to know she didn’t have to explain it more than that. Benefits of befriending women her own age, finally, she supposed. It was nice. “You’ve been reading my diary, haven’t you?” She teased, the floor swaying with her when she turned to face Morgan better, resting her head against her palm. “I’m… not sure this is his kind of stress reliever, honestly. He’s not a big fan of squids,” she laughed, already picturing him sending this thing to a watery grave with one or two well placed stabs. “Very cool. The guy knows all about my shady side and likes me anyway. I think that means he’s a keeper,” she smirked, picking at a piece of dirt on the floor. Her brows suddenly narrowed and lifted to Morgan’s. “Wait, so… Deirdre, huh?” She tilted her head slightly, settling in. “You’ve gotta tell me how that one works.”

“Yes, Erin, you should know better than to leave your diary lying around where I can see your E heart’s N doodles from the margins. I’m holding it hostage until you let me make you nachos.” Morgan teased, cackling at the end of her words, unable to keep up the act for very long. “You don’t think Squidward looks different enough for Nic to give him a chance? Maybe you can just march him in blindfolded. Don’t tell him he’s in the belly of a plastic bouncy squid, yaknow?” She sniggered and pressed her arms down into the bouncy floor to get some movement going again. “Mmhm,” she said, her voice rising and falling along with her bounce. “The ones who accept your shady side, or even like you for your shady side, are the ones you know are definitely keepers. I can attest to that personally too. It’s not worth it if you have to hide yourself or your life from someone. Things are hard and complicated enough on their own.” She turned her head sideways to look at Erin properly, a sly grin warming up her face. “Yeah, Deirdre. She has...a lot more to her than most people realize, for one. But I mean...in some ways it’s really simple. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And she’s also the most interesting, surprising, thoughtful--kind-hearted person I’ve met too. The only one I’ve been able to talk to, practically non stop, for six months and still have things to say. We love each other a lot. We help each other. And we don’t keep secrets. I moved in a couple months ago, before we were even officially dating, and...I don’t know. For two different people who haven’t been happy a lot before, the space we make when we’re together is the most comforting one I’ve ever had.” She shrugged, her smile soft now. “You can ask more, but I’m gonna need something on why you’re suddenly Miss Violence eventually.”

Erin pushed herself up to sit, her body shaking with laughter covering her face with her hand. Oh God, she was downright giggling. “No, absolutely not. You’ve gotta show me how to take this down before you leave.” She watched her, adding to the bounce wave. It was hard not to smile as Morgan gushed. The only true experience she’d ever had with Dierdre involved a story about pulling a knife on Regan and endless pursuits to purchase her hearse. The original alarm that had come with both of those things had dwindled over the months. Guess there was some sort of quiet understanding that came with the shady life that Morgan had touched on. “As long as you’re happy, seriously, that’s all that matters,” Erin shook her head, reaching over to squeeze her friend’s arm. “Even if your girlfriend lightly stalked me for my hearse once upon a time.” Ah. Seemed like they weren’t going to be able to skate right past that topic with super normal girl talk and bounce castle fun times, huh? Erin’s smile faded and she wrapped her arms around her knees. “I, uh--” The words kept getting stuck in her chest. Guilt kept it firmly in place, even with the agreeable ‘shady’ company she’d found herself in. Might as well just fucking say it, right? “Things got bad with my side hustle. Like, bad-bad. I had to…” she narrowed her eyes, cleared her throat. “I had to go all Godfather and take care of a problem. If you know what I mean.”

Morgan propped herself up on her arms as Erin agonized over the question. She couldn’t figure what would be enough to get under Erin’s skin, but the confession of a murder hadn’t been on her shortlist. It was only watching her friend try to swallow the lump in her throat that she remembered how new this world still was to her. She hadn’t even been handling organs for very long either. The moose sacrifice had almost been too much for her. And now… “I’m sorry, that you had to kill someone, Erin,” she said quietly. “It makes you feel different after. It weighs on you. But that doesn’t mean you were wrong to do it. It doesn’t mean that they didn’t deserve what happened to them.” She held Erin’s eyes, clear and sober and solemn with the weight of what she’d done in the ring. “And I know that because I’ve killed someone too. And I feel...a lot of things about it. But she was helping keep one of my friends hostage along with who knows how many supernaturals. And I think I would do it again. But I also know that handling death like that is...it’s different from how we are normally. You should feel however about it.” She reached out for Erin’s arm and squeezed gently. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

Morgan took Erin’s confession with more grace than she would have expected. Laying murder onto someone wasn’t something most people took likely. But Morgan wasn’t most people, though. It was the only reason she felt comfortable enough to ever utter something like this to someone. Apparently, with Morgan’s own confession, she realized she couldn’t have picked a better ear. “I think I feel more guilty about the fact that I don’t feel guilty. The guy was an absolute scumbag who made my life hell,” she answered honestly. She was right though. Erin did feel different. She wasn’t sure which end of the spectrum that left her on but different was a good way to describe it. “Without sounding too cliche, the guy I had killed was skimming off the top, tried to blame it on me. And my boss decided to… test my loyalty, I guess, when I explained to him what had actually happened. So he made me take care of it. Him.” She cleared her throat, scratching the back of her neck. Found it surprisingly easy to still meet Morgan’s bright blue eyes. “You’ve… killed someone? You?” She felt bad but she had to ask. As aware of Morgan’s dark side she was, it felt wrong to add ‘murderer’ to that shadowy list.

“There’s this principle in alchemy called equivalent exchange, where you have to offer material of equal value to what you’re making or requesting from the energy of the universe. It’s all part of this pagan idea of universal balance,” Morgan said quietly. “The turn of the seasons, the planets and the stars, even life and death. It’s all supposed to come out even in the grand scheme of things. And maybe if humans and sometimes other people, I guess, didn’t give each other reasons to be awful it would be all the time. But that’s not how it is.” She lifted her eyes to meet Erin’s eyes. “I don’t know how much I believe that anymore, but I am pretty damn sure that if there is going to be anything close to ‘balance,’ it’s something we have to help make for ourselves. Someone takes it upon themselves to wreck your balance, tries to get you killed for something they did, or throws supernaturals in cages like they’re animals, they deserve to have that harm shifted back at them. If you don’t feel guilty, Erin, don’t.” She quirked the corner of her mouth sadly. “Maybe I would’ve gone about it different if I hadn’t just been so...angry. This guy made us see our friends’ dead bodies with his illusion magic, to fuck with us, because he could, and I just kind of...lost my shit. I didn’t get him, but I got one of his friends. I pummeled her into the ground until I couldn’t.” She swallowed thickly. “She was one of the guards. She saw them. My friends, all of them. She helped keep at that awful place, The Ring? And I’m not sorry she or any of the other ones are gone. But I do...I don’t know. It’s like she’s pressing on my back. I feel a piece of her. And that doesn’t feel fair, but...maybe that’s just how it is.”

Erin remained quiet as Morgan explained the premise of equivalent exchange. Frankly, it made more sense than anything magical related she’d heard so far. Balance. It was always about balance. “I kinda like that,” she smiled softly. She knew that she had no real reason to be guilty outside of what a ‘normal’ human reaction to this would be. But she didn’t. And it wouldn’t come. Her eyes fell on Morgan for a long time, trying to picture the horrible scene she’d just described. It was so hard to imagine those big blue eyes filled with enough rage to beat a woman to death but if she’d learned anything, nobody was what they seemed around here. “The Ring?” Erin asked, but she could only presume it was the awful place Morgan had mentioned with the cages. She leaned over, running a hand down her shoulder. “Sounds like they deserved it just as much as my guy. I know it’s not as eloquent as equivalent exchange but--sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve gotta do to because it’s right. Because you have to survive.”

Morgan put her hand over Erin’s and threaded their fingers together. She still felt some kind awful inside. She hadn’t wept for the nameless woman once. For herself, for Remmy and Nell and everyone who had been held there, sure, but not for what she’d taken. It worried her in a quiet way, how much of her had been warped by death? What else had she lost that she hadn’t accounted for. But looking at Erin, who by her reckoning was no more monstrous than herself or Deirdre or Remmy or Nell, she decided to lay the question aside. Sometimes balance wasn’t pretty. “Guess witches know a thing or two about a thing or two,” she said. Then, laughing feebly. “Didn’t mean to bring down the mood comparing body counts. If you’ve still got an appetite, though, I could make some really great distraction nachos. We could even bring it back out here. I’d love to see how long you last.”

Erin returned Morgan’s small smile, giving her hand a squeeze. It felt like there was plenty still left unsaid, settled between them, shrouded in this damn squid bounce castle. Definitely not the place she’d ever pictured herself bonding over murder with someone, especially not the murder part. “Distraction nachos sound amazing right now,” she shrugged. “Fun fact about me: I’m never not hungry,” she smirked, trying to ease some lightness back into the air again. Hard sell after what they were just discussing but that was the beauty of this friendship, wasn’t it? She hopped to her feet, wobbling just a little when the floor moved beneath them. Giving one last bounce when Morgan tried to stand, she laughed again, holding her hand out to help her up “And if that’s a challenge, you’re so on, lady!”

#killer party #wr erin #wr chatzy #wr erin chatzy #wr #wickedswriting

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mama-m1na · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse: Chapter 13

~~~XIII~~~

The next morning, Cloud woke up to a series of whispered curses as a fully dressed Rhamina stumbled out of the closet.

"Morning, Cloud!" she greeted quietly, careful not to wake the other two while she laced up her combat boots.

"What were you doing in there?" the male asked as he sat up, watching as the female unplugged her phone that was charging on the nightstand next to the bed.

"I was changing, but one of my knees wasn't having it, so it was a struggle," the teen replied as she went over to the vanity to brush out her hair.

"Anyways!" she chirped, turning around to face the male who was standing up and fastening his buster sword to his back, "I was about to go out and get some breakfast, do you want to come with me?"

"Sure," the male shrugged, "but I'm driving."

"I mean that's fine since we're in Aunty's territory," the ravenette replied as she dropped her phone in her pocket, "Let's go!"

Once the two had boarded the male's bike, they could see that the sun had just risen as the teen guided him to a food place that would be open.

As expected, the place was pretty empty as they ate in a lone corner of the restaurant, enjoying the strange atmosphere.

"How exactly are you going to get information from them?" Cloud asked as the reason for their trip popped up in conversation.

"If they act the same way as the others we've fought, then I probably won't have the patience to deal with them normally," the ravenette sighed as she took a sip of her orange juice, "so I'll probably have to resort to just sifting through their minds until i find something useful."

"Are you going to have to use the bell for that?" the male questioned as the girl's pendant glinted in the light.

"Well, I don't have to, but it would make the process go much quicker and if I were to do the same thing without it, then I would be taking up a lot of my own energy to do it to three people," she reasoned with a shrug.

The rest of the meal was mostly silent as Cloud took the time to get a good look at the eighteen-year-old.

She was slouching more than usual and just looked tired, probably from how late she stayed up with Sam.

By the time the pair had returned, Sam and Chloe had just woken up and were laying in bed just messing around on their phones.

"Morning, fuckers," Rhamina greeted as Sam looked up at her excitedly, "No, I did not bring back any food."

"Aw, Mina!" the brunette whined with a pout, earning a huff from the older female, "but you already went out!"

"And you could've come with us to get food, but you were still asleep," the Filipino retorted as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Before the Mexican female could reply, a soft knock came from the door before it opened to reveal Jessie.

"Y'all ready to go?" he asked as he leaned against the open door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Wait, we're coming too?" Sam asked, not moving from her spot on the bed as she lowered her phone to see the door.

"I mean I would assume you'd want to at least be in the next room in case something goes wrong," the green-eyed male shrugged.

"I'm coming, I just need to get changed," Chloe said as she got out of bed still in her pajamas that consisted of pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt.

"Alright, we'll wait outside then," Rhamina spoke as she ushered the two males out of the room alongside her, "Don't take forever, owl!"

"I won't!" the shorter female chirped before the ravenette closed the door and went to stand against the wall.

She was quick to pick up on the obvious tension between the two males as they both looked like they wanted to murder the other.

"Guys," the teen sighed, earning the attention of both males as her eyes flicked between them, "What- what is this? What happened?"

"You don't need to worry about it, Rhamina," Jessie spoke as he stepped to her side and rested his arm on her shoulder.

"Blondie and I just had a little chat last night," he continued with a smirk as blue eyes narrowed at him.

"That is never a good statement coming from you," the ravenette spoke as she looked over to the slightly younger male.

"Aw, come on," the silver-haired male chuckled as he moved to wrap an arm around her shoulders, "You trust me, don't you?"

"Depends," the female shrugged, earning an offended gasp from the other teen as the ex-SOLDIER silently fumed at the sight.

'Who the hell does this guy think he is?' Cloud thought as the silver-haired male practically draped himself over the ravenette, 'He wasn't acting like this yesterday.'

As the two continued their playful conversation, green eyes flicked up to the swordsman before the teen smirked.

The blond gave a shocked expression before the female shoved him off as the door opened from behind them to reveal a fully dressed Chloe.

"Is Sam not coming?" Rhamina asked as the younger female latched onto her arm, glaring up at Jessie.

"She says she's too tired," the fifteen-year-old replied.

"How much did she drink?" the ravenette asked with a raised brow, earning a shrug from the younger female.

"A lot."

"I'm not surprised," the eighteen-year-old sighed before turning to her former student, "Lead the way."

The three were led down to a series of rooms underneath the warehouse that were probably used for more storage, but now converted into a sort of prison.

At the end of the hall Jessie opened a door for the ravenette before leading the others into the room right next to it.

It gave a clear view into the interrogation room through a pane of one way glass, allowing them to see the ravenette sitting at a rectangular table.

Pressing a button on the control panel in front of him, Jessie leaned towards a mic and asked, "You ready for the first one?"

Upon seeing the thumbs up the eighteen-year-old gave, the silver-haired male pulled out his phone and shot someone a quick text before the first Scyphozoa member was brought in.

He looked to be a middle aged Caucasian man with short, dirty blond, hair and pointed, hazel eyes.

From the way the male struggled against the two people bringing him in and how he had to be tied to his chair, the ravenette knew that we wouldn't be answering any questions if she even tried to act in a civil manner.

As the two who brought him in left, the male continued to struggle against his binds and even from behind the glass, the others could tell that the ravenette wasn't having it.

"Let me guess," came the female's voice on the speakers through the live microphone in the interrogation room, "You're not going to answer any of my questions because of your undying loyalty and all that jazz."

"You got that right, bitch," the man spat with a smug smirk, "Do whatever the fuck you want with me, I ain't saying shit."

"Oh, that's fine," the female shrugged as she opened the notebook that was in front of her and took hold of the pencil next to it, " I don't need you to speak for what I'm about to do."

The lights flickered for a moment as the chime of a bell echoed in the room, a dark smirk on the eighteen-year-old's face while a black smoke emitted from her.

The haze taking shape into triangle shaped appendages on top of her head and three large tendrils that whipped around behind her.

"Hey now," the girl mused as the man looked at the tendrils reaching for him in pure fear, "It's rude not to meet the eyes of someone who's talking to you, you know?"

The three behind the glass could only watch the man look up to meet her, glowing, gold eyes just as the three tendrils entered his chest.

The male's mouth was moving, but no sound came out as the female merely kept their eyes locked, not looking down to the things she was writing.

After about five minutes the black haze disappeared and the lights came back on as the male gasped for breath and the female set her pencil down.

"Alright, that settles that," the female chirped as she cracked her knuckles, "Jessie, send in the next one please."

"Are you sure?" the green-eyed male asked as he called for someone to take the man back to his cell, "Don't you want to take a break?"

"No, I want to get this over with so I can take a nap," the ravenette retorted as she looked down at what she had written.

"Alright," the male spoke before he took his finger off the button that broadcasted his voice, "As the queen commands."

When the second member was brought in he was much worse than the previous one, not letting the girl speak as he threw insult after insult at her.

However, he was soon cut off as he stared into narrowed, golden eyes while smoky black tendrils reached for him.

"I highly suggest you hold your tongue before you lose it," the female spoke in a low, warning tone just before the tendrils reached into his chest.

As they watched the female write away in the notebook provided to her, Jessie let out a sigh, leaning on a wall before saying, "Foxes sure are something."

Cloud perked upon hearing this and let out a confused hum, earning a snort from the eighteen-year-old male.

"What?" the blond scoffed as the green-eyed male turned back to face him.

"It's nothing, I'm just surprised you don't know what I'm talking about," he spoke with a smirk, "But I guess Rhamina doesn't tell you everything."

"I'll be glad to fill you in though," the silver-haired male continued, not letting the older male respond, "In many cultures, foxes are seen as mischievous creatures, capable of weaving together illusions and messing with the minds of humans."

"Yeah," Chloe agreed, albeit reluctantly and with a heavy dislike towards the older teen, "And Mina is a fox."

"Indeed she is," Jessie spoke, turning back to the glass as the lights came back on to reveal a normal looking female and terrified male.

"You ready for the last one?" he asked as two people brought away the man.

"Yeppers!"

Unlike the previous two, the third member brought in was a woman who said nothing and quietly sat across from the teenager.

"Right off the bat, I have to thank you for being the calmest out of your group," Rhamina spoke as she looked over at the woman instead of meeting her eyes.

Instead of straight up invading her mind like she had with the previous two, the ravenette stuck to asking questions like the others had tried to do.

'What is she thinking?' the green-eyed male thought as he narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to the glass to see the eighteen-year-old's calm expression.

With another question that went unanswered by the woman, the teen let out a sigh before saying, "Alright, let's try something different."

"Why did you join Scyphozoa?" she asked, causing the woman to look up at her with a confused expression.

"What?"

"I just want to understand why someone would want to join this group," the ravenette continued, "I mean, you understand how the generators were powered, right? And you know that their existence is the whole reason our world got so fucked over, right?"

The woman leaned forward and opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes flicked over to the reflective surface of the one way glass before shutting it once more.

"Jessie, I want you to cut the mics and wait outside in the hallway," Rhamina ordered upon seeing the woman's action.

"What?" Rhamina, I can't do that," the silver-haired male replied as the other two perked up, "We need to be on standby in case something happens."

"I'm not continuing until you comply," the female huffed as she crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, "All of you."

With a frustrated sigh, the teenage male turned off the sound equipment before turning to the other two, saying, "let's go."

"We're just leaving her there?" Cloud asked, narrowing his eyes at the younger male who looked just as upset as him.

"She's a big girl, she can take care of herself," Jessie hissed as he opened the door, "Plus I know better than to challenge a Kaius."

Upon hearing the door to the other room slam shut, the woman snapped her gaze over to the younger female.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked as the teen took a sip from the water bottle that was previously resting on the floor next to her.

"Doing what?"

"Being so... civil," the woman spoke, choosing her words carefully, "What I heard you did to Ryan and Ethan was... brutal."

"Well, they greeted me with hate so I did the same," the teen shrugged in response, "'Do unto others what you want done upon yourself' and all that shit."

"Sure you didn't talk, but you were the only one out of you three to listen," the ravenette explained as she looked up to finally meet the woman's scarlet irises, "so I'm willing to do the same."

"Let's try this again now that we're alone," she continued with a gentle smile, "Would you please explain to me why you joined Scyphozoa."

"I-" the woman was shocked to hear something like this come from one of the Emissaries of Apocalypse, she knew who this girl was, everyone in Scyphozoa did.

Everyone was warned of the power each of the four girls had and how ruthless they were, but never had they been described like this.

Never had they been described as patient, reasonable, empathetic human beings that cared about others.

No, those in the organization were trained to believe that each girl was a monster that only fed off of chaos.

"They told us that the world they would find would be a paradise for us," the white-haired woman spoke, "That we would be able to save everyone this way."

"And who are you trying to save exactly, if you don't mind me asking?" the teen questioned as she kept her calm eyes trained on the woman.

"My son, I didn't want him to grow up in a world like this," the woman replied, "So I thought that if I could really find another, better world, then I could take him with me."

"That's an understandable want for a caring mother and once again I have to thank you somewhat," Rhamina spoke, bowing her head before looking back up, "Many parents in recent times have lost sight of actually taking care of their children, but I have to ask this again."

"Do you know what the generators get the magic energy from?" she asked, earning a slow nod from the woman.

"Is that how you want to give your child life, instead of being in it?" the ravenette questioned, knowing that some of her own distaste was slipping in, "By spilling the blood of those trying to live in this world?"

"I know, it's outlandish to think that it would be justified, but I just wanted something that my baby could look forward to," the woman spoke as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"I apologize if my words seem harsh, but honestly, the best thing you could do for your child is physically be there for them," the eighteen-year-old spoke, "lord knows how many kids are out here without their parents anymore and you've been away from yours for how long?"

Upon hearing the woman's silence she continued, "If you really regret your decisions then go home and actively be there for your kid, especially now, keep them safe yourself, you really can't trust anyone nowadays."

"Hell," the teen sighed as she stretched over the back of her chair, "I'll even have Aunty help you get home."

The woman was left in a shocked silence as the ravenette collected her things and stood up.

"Wait," she said as the teen began walking towards the door, "What's your name? I want to be able to properly thank you later."

"Rhamina Mae Kaius," the ravenette spoke as she smiled at the red-eyed woman dressed in all black, "and you are?"

"Thearessa Black."

The teen nodded as she turned back to the door before saying, "You don't have to thank me. Had you acted like the others, then I would have just taken the information I wanted before having you killed."

"You saved yourself," the teen finished as she walked out of the room, letting the door click shut behind her while missing the woman's smile.

"You may say that; however, your heart says something else entirely."

As soon as the ravenette excited the interrogation room, she handed the notebook to Jessie who asked, "Did you get anything?"

"Not much, they really didn't know shit," the female replied as she walked over to Chloe and Cloud, "The only new information I got was that Scyphozoa is basically a cult."

"How so?" the silver-haired male asked as the teen allowed the younger Filipino to play with her hands.

"Apparently, they're telling people that they're trying to open a portal so they can find a better world to live in," Rhamina explained, earning a scoff from the teenage male.

"Trying to run away from the problem instead of facing it," he hissed as he removed his hat to brush through his hair, "Man, this is just like the thing with Mars again."

"Yep, except it looks like they're preying on the desperate and depraved from how all of their little squad leaders act," the ravenette replied before letting out a yawn.

"Anyways, I'm going to take a nap," she spoke as she walked on ahead, "Y'all have fun and don't kill each other or I'll invert your kneecaps."

It was silent for a few moments before the three started up the stairs in silence until Jessie opened his mouth to speak.

"So, blondie, what did you think?" he asked as his green eyes locked onto Cloud's form.

"Does it matter what I think?" the twenty-one-year-old huffed in response, "We may not have gotten the information we wanted, but we got something."

"That's true," Jessie mused, "Knowing that they're a cult means that whoever's in charge probably has a high level of passion and charisma, a sweet talker probably."

"Isn't that kind of dangerous though?" Chloe asked as they once again reached ground level.

"Oh, fuck yeah," the eighteen-year-old spoke, "Cult leaders are masters at manipulating people, especially if they're in a weak state of mind like a lot of people nowadays."

A few hours later the ravenette was brought out of her nap by Sam waking her up, saying that Aunty had lunch prepared for them.

Upon making it back to the main area of the club, they saw Cloud, Chloe, Jessie and Aunty sitting together at a large table.

"Did you enjoy your nap, Mina?" the man asked as the teen took the seat in between Cloud and Jessie.

"Yeah, it was nice considering I was kept up by someone who drank a whole bottle of fucking rum," the ravenette scoffed narrowing her eyes at the brunette who sat three spots to her right.

"Is that so?" the male asked as he played with the black fur on the collar of his expensive looking coat.

"Well I do have to thank you for your work, and from what Thearessa told us in a follow up, she gave us a physical description of the Scyphozoa recruiter," Aunty explained as their food came out.

"That's good," Sam spoke as she immediately dove into her fried chicken, "The recruiters are likely to have more information than the idiots they send out to the generators."

"Was she able to give a name with the description?" the ravenette asked as Jessie placed an arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, I believe it was something along the lines of 'Johnathan Bosco'," the man spoke before taking a sip of his drink.

"Alright, send me a document with the physical description and name later," the eighteen-year-old spoke as she ignored the male who had rested his head on her shoulder, "I'll get a team to work on it as soon as we get back tomorrow."

"You're leaving that quickly?" the silver-haired male asked, finally earning the attention of the female.

"Yeah, this was a quick job and it's almost June," the ravenette sighed as she reached up to instinctively pat the male on the head, "You know how busy the Abyss gets."

"Dammit," the male hissed as the blond raised a confused brow.

"You'll find out when the time comes, Cloud," Sam spoke with a smirk on her face, "It gets lit in June."

"Well, do you want to spar later?" Jessie asked as he redirected his attention to his food, eyes flicking over to the female next to him, "For old time's sake?"

"Sure, I would love to see how much you actually put into use of what I taught you," Rhamina spoke with a shrug.

"Mina, from how he fought Cloud, I'm pretty sure he used what you taught him," Sam commented, causing her to raise a brow at the blond to her right.

"In what way?" the ravenette asked, keeping her eyes on the blond male who just looked down.

"He fought like a shady bitch," the brunette spoke, looking her older sibling straight in the eyes.

"I mean, you're not wrong!" the teen laughed as they continued their meal, the subtle touches Jessie was giving Rhamina not going unnoticed by Cloud.

By the time the two teenagers were standing across from each other in the middle of the dance floor, the twenty-one-year-old was praying that the ravenette would just put Jessie into the ground.

He was prepared for the female to pull out her fans again, but to his surprise the teen just raised her fists and got into a stance similar to the brawler's.

"Ah, a battle between student and teacher," Aunty commented with a chuckle, "We shall see how well Jessie fares."

The fight started with Jessie rushing up and throwing the first punch which was blocked before the ravenette sent him back with a side kick.

As the spar continued, Cloud noticed that Rhamina mainly relied on kicks to get any damage in, keeping her arms up to defend her face and torso.

"You would get more damage on me if you actually used your hands, you know?" the silver-haired male mused as he threw another punch that the female ducked under before sending him back with another kick.

"I'm not wearing gloves like you, asshole!" Rhamina snapped before aiming a roundhouse kick towards his face only to get caught by the ankle and thrown into the air.

"Yeah, you're still holding back though," the green-eyed male huffed as the female reoriented herself to land in a crouch.

"Excuse me for not wanting to break your fucking bones," the huffed before springing forward to aim a punch at his face, leaving herself wide open.

Clang!

"Shit!" the male hissed as his fist came in contact with the metal of her disguised armor wrapped around her waist.

This caused the female to let out a high pitched giggle as she opened her right hand that was already by his head due to her missed punch, and grabbed him the back of the neck.

Before the male could do anything, the female had pivoted so that she could throw him face first into the ground and once he felt the weight of the female on his back, he knew the fight was over.

"I win!" she chirped with an innocent smile as Chloe and San cheered for her.

Once she got up though her smile shifted into a nervous one as she helped the eighteen-year-old male to his feet.

"You okay, hun?" she asked as the others gathered closer to them, "I got a lot of kicks on you."

"Yeah, I'm good," the male chuckled as he readjusted the cap on his head, "I'll bruise, but I'll be fine."

"Aw, I feel bad now," the ravenette spoke as Sam placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't, I was quite literally asking for it when I asked to spar with you," the male chuckled, earning a whine from her female.

"But you're one of my bois!" she whined, wrapping her arms around the male's neck, "and I don't want to actually hurt you!"

The male only chuckled and wrapped his arms around the female's waist, earning a squeal from Sam as Cloud silently fumed at the sight.

"Hoot," Chloe growled from next to the blond, obviously ticked off by how close the male was to one of her mother figures.

It was understandable for the fifteen-year-old to be peeved, but the older male found himself questioning why he was so upset.

His spark of anger was quickly fueled into a full fire as his mako contaminated irises met green ones that held pure amusement.

Without breaking eye contact as he wore a smirk on his face, Jessie pulled the girl closer before whispering something into her ear.

Her expression quickly changed to one of disgust as she attempted to squirm out of the male's grip, saying, "Nope. we're not friends anymore!"

As the teens continued to play around, Cloud's eyes narrowed while he thought, 'What is this?'

The rest of the day passed quickly and soon enough the four from the Abyss were back in their room to get some sleep.

Cloud was quickly roused from his sleep by the multitudes of sounds surrounding him as well as the hot sun blazing down on him.

Upon snapping his eyes open and sitting up he quickly realized that he was in what looked to be an outdoor school campus, filled with what looked to be performers wielding various pieces of equipment.

As soon as loud stood up from the bench he was laying on he noticed that his buster sword was nowhere near him, but he couldn't focus on that as someone bumped into him.

"I'm so sorry about- wait, Cloud?!" the familiar female asked as she looked at the male with shocked, chocolate colored eyes.

"Rhamina?" the male questioned as he took in the ravenette's appearance.

She wore a beige colored, A-line dress with a wine colored petticoat and a matching, wine colored fur collar that tied at the side.

Her hair was done up into a high ponytail and decorated with an ornate bow that matched the rest of her outfit as her makeup was done to make her eyes look large and doll-like.

"Yes, but not the one you know," the female sighed before looking around at the very busy setting around them.

"Listen, I don't have time to explain since we're supposed to be going in a few minutes, so just wait here and I'll come find you once we're done okay?" the teenager said before rushing off in between buildings, leaving the male on his own in what looked to be a lunch area.

With a sigh and nowhere else to go, the blond walked a few feet to his left to stand under an overhang that shaded a few tables.

About ten minutes passed before he saw the female again and this time she was with about six other girls that were dressed similarly to her with minor differences.

"Mina!" one of the shorter females called as she rushed over to her, "Your arm!"

"Huh? Oh my god," the eighteen-year-old groaned as she looked down to see a bleeding cut on the inside of her forearm.

"Mina, this is the third in a row that your saber cut you!" laughed a girl with glasses and curly brown hair.

"I don't even think it was Sabrina this time!" the girl whined as a group of adults came over, "I caught everything with her! Knowing me, it was probably my flagpole!"

"Ramen, did you hurt yourself again?" a woman with dark skin asked as she stepped forward.

"Yep," she replied with a stupid grin on her face as she inspected her dress, "Didn't get any blood on the costume though!"

"Oh my god, just go to the first aid table so we can take pictures when you come back," the woman sighed as the ravenette went over to the table that was luckily just around the corner.

As the rest of the group came under the overhang to sit down, Cloud was able to recognize some of the girls as members of Apocalypse, but they seemed different somehow.

When the female returned with some bandages wrapped around her forearm, the group took a few pictures before being set off on their own.

"Sorry for the wait, it's championships, so everyone is really hyped up right now," Rhamina said as she approached the male with a nervous smile.

"What is going on here?" the male asked as the teen moved the flyaways from her ponytail out of her face, "Why does this place seem so-"

"Alive?" the teen finished as she looked at all the activity around them, "Because this is a world where the generators never existed, running at the same time alongside that wasteland you're used to."

"Like I said, I'm Rhamina, but not the one you know, I'm another version of her,"the ravenette explained, "I'm Rhamina Miyu."

"I'm guessing you've seen these girls in the other world too, right?" she asked, turning back to meet shocked, blue eyes.

"Yeah, but how do you know all this?" he asked as the girl cracked her neck before doing the same to her knuckles.

"Some people are able to see glimpses of other worlds through their parallel live's eyes," the eighteen-year-old explained, "that's how I knew about you, but why are you here?"

The two took a seat before Cloud explained to the girl about the existence of Mandallyth and the 'dreams' he's been having.

"Well, sending you to see memories of past lives sounds reasonable, but a whole other, concurrent, life is strange," the female sighed, "it isn't even supposed to happen in the first place, the only being that can do that is..."

Cloud looked at the girl in concern as her pupils pinned and as her eyes became unfocused.

He quickly reached out to grab her by the shoulder and she jolted, blinking a bit before asking, "I'm sorry, what was I saying?"

"You were saying something about a powerful being," the blond spoke as the teen tried to remember what she was talking about.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," the female sighed as she brought a hand up to her head with a frown on her face, "I really don't remember what I was going to say."

It was strange, the female before him looked just like the Rhmina he knew, but she was not the same one.

"Mina, come on, we're lining up now!" the Filipino girl Cloud recognized as Shay, called from another table.

"I'll be there in a second!" the ravenette called as she stood before turning back to the male.

"Thank you, Cloud," she said with a genuine smile, confusing the male, "She's too stubborn to say this, but the Mina of your world is pretty lonely and whether you realize it or not, you're helping her with that so thank you."

Cloud could only watch in silence as the girl rushed forward to meet up with her teammates before they entered the gym for their reward ceremony.

This Rhamina seemed more lighthearted and trusting of others, probably because she hadn't gone through an Apocalypse, but it made him think.

If the generators hadn't done their world in, would Rhamina be like this one? Would she look so happy?"

The male woke up with a start as his eyes snapped open to meet the darkened room that he fell asleep in before feeling a light squeeze on his shoulder.

His glowing blue eyes panned over to meet the concerned gaze of Rhamina who was kneeling on the ground next to the couch.

"What are you doing up?" the male asked as he slowly sat up, careful to keep his voice soft enough as not to wake up the other two.

"I couldn't sleep, but what about you?" the teen asked as she moved to sit next to him, "You were saying some things in your sleep before you jolted awake like that."

"Are you okay?" she asked in a gentle tone as she reached out to place a warm hand on his arm.

"I'm fine," the male replied before he remembered the words of the other Rhamina.

"You should go back to sleep," the male spoke as he met the teen's gaze, "We're driving back tomorrow morning and you're going to need the energy."

"I mean, you're probably right, but I'll only get some sleep once my mind shuts up," she chuckled softly, "It's got a lot running right now."

The female was about to get up to walk back to the bed, but was stopped by a hand on her wrist as Cloud asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Are you sure?"

"I told you already, didn't I?"

~~~Fin. Chapter 13~~~

Masterlist

#Apocalypse #Chapter 13 #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Final Fantasy #Final Fantasy Remake #Final Fantasy 7 #Final Fantasy VII #FFVII #ffvii remake #cloud strife #Cloud Strife x OC

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rosecorcoranwrites · 5 years

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The Obligatory Strong Female Character Post

What constitutes a "strong female character" (or SFC for short). As a person on the internet, I’m obligated to weigh in on this. Everybody’s doing it! But what do we mean by “strong”? Is a strong person the same as a strong character? And do we need more SFCs in fiction?

Physical Strength

Obviously, “strong” and “weak” can describe someone's physical attributes. A strong person is physically fit and muscular. They can lift heavy objects and carry weights great distances, and sometimes know how to fight. A physically weak person, on the other hand, might be sickly or flabby and can't lift or carry much at all.

Hollywood churns out many physically strong female characters, although many of them are played by actresses who might blow away in a strong breeze. Most of these so-called SFCs could be replaced by sexy, physically fit lamps, because while admittedly strong, these ladies are not in fact characters. They are hollow beings with very little personality and characterization beyond “She kicks butt!” Thus, while these are "strong female somethings", they can't be called SFCs.

I have two issues with people who think that there are not enough of this type of “SFC”. One is that there is an underlying idea that, to be as good as male characters, the female in question must be as physically strong, if not stronger, than her male counterparts. Because apparently physical strength is the height of worthiness and likability, or something? Often the idea of role-models comes into the conversation regarding SFCs, in that people think little girls need better role-models. To such people, I ask, would you teach little boys that in order to be good enough, you must be as physically strong or stronger than your peers, and that anything less than that is not worth imitating? Of course you wouldn’t! So why should little girls learn the same lesson?

As an aside, I also think it’s funny that in a time where we are so cognizant of unattainable female body images, we perpetuate them in the type of physically strong female characters we portray. Again, Hollywood has willowy actresses habitually dropping men three times their size with one punch, not with magic, nor with martial arts designed to make up for smaller body sizes, but just sheer physical strength. And this actually does have an effect on real-life expectations: I went to a firing range as part of a Citizen’s Police Academy class, and the men in my group could not get it through their heads that I—a tiny, 5'3" wimp—couldn’t lift a police-issued shotgun long enough to aim it properly. I physically could not do what they could do without trying. I’m not saying writers can’t have physically strong women characters, I’m just saying that, maybe, take into account that that strength might require a larger body, muscles, training, or strategy. But I digress…

Strength of Character

Thankfully, most people who call for more SFCs are not talking merely about physical strength, but instead something more like strength of character, or strength of will. Someone with a strong character doesn't give up easily. They've got chutzpah, and moxy, and gumption, and a bunch of other words that are fun to say. Yet I quibble with people’s call for more and more such SFCs, because there are already plenty of characters like this. And there always have been. Books for children have always featured girls with just as much grit and wherewithal as boys, as have many classic books for grown-ups. Think about Elizabeth Bennet, Anne Shirley, Mrs. Frisbee, Mina Harker, Sara Crewe, and Gerda from The Snow Queen, just to name a few off the top of my head.

So where is the "there aren't enough SFCs" crowd coming from? These people, in my opinion, want women who never need, nor want, any help. Such a character is smart and capable enough to do everything by herself. She not only has a strong will, but is strong-willed. She doesn’t ever cry or get freaked out or feel helpless—because these are signs of weakness! She has guts, i.e. plot armor so thick that she will never ever meet an obstacle she cannot surmount. Which is… really boring, honestly.

Captain Marvel is a shining example of this type of so-called SFC: literally nothing affects her, physically or emotionally. There’s this line about how she’s supposedly too emotional, but she never shows any feeling besides a little smirk. Is cockiness an emotion? Anyway, there’s one scene where she finally realizes that everything she knows is a lie and that she’s been used by a genocidal race of space goons. This would have been a great moment for her to lose it, to scream, or cry, or use her powers so much that she accidentally blows off her inhibitor chip. But no, having her get frustrated or sad would show that she’s not 100% in control of everything, which would make her look weak. And human. And relatable on any level. I don’t know if you could tell, but I did not care for Captain Marvel.

Again, people who advocate for this type of SFC want role-models for little girls to look up to, without realizing that these super-capable, unassailable SFCs are just as unattainable an ideal as physically strong yet-muscleless ladies. Some girls are naturally shy and mild, other are unsure of themselves, and a few have actual anxiety-related issues. Are these types of girls weak? Again, let’s look at our male counterparts. Would you tell a shy little boy that he’s weak because he’s not as bold as his peers? Or that he shouldn’t seek help from others because he should be strong enough to do it by himself? Or, instead, would you tell him how to show true strength—the Mina Harker, Mrs. Frisbee, Sara Crewe type of strength—by persevering even when things are hard, and you do feel small, and things don’t go your way? Maybe we should be teaching girls the same thing.

Strong Characters, Female or Otherwise

So then, what is a strong female character? Is it a character who is a strong female, like a woman who can take down twenty guys in a fight? Or is it a female with a strong character, who never gives up no matter how tough it gets? I submit that it is not—necessarily—either. An SFC is, in short, a strong character who is female. Clear as mud, eh?

What no one ever seems to ask in all the SFC discourse is what, pray tell, do we mean by a "strong character"? Maybe the easiest way of answering this would be to find some examples of weak characters of either sex.

Bella Swan springs readily to mind, as do half-a-dozen female YA protagonists who might be described, in the most charitable terms, as “one-dimensional”. They lack agency and personality, generally because they are meant, more or less, to be reader inserts, so that the audience can imagine themselves in that role.

I submit that Ray, of the new Star Wars trilogy, is also a weak character, but in a different way. She makes decisions, sure, but without any motivation. She wants to stay on her planet and wait for her parents, because she needed a backstory, but then she’s fine going across the galaxy with Finn to drop off a droid, because otherwise she wouldn’t be in the rest of the movie, and she eventually decides to join the Resistance because that’s what a protagonist would do. Then she goes to train with Luke, apparently forgetting that she was waiting for her parents. Then she goes to try and turn Kylo Ren good because that way they can have a cool fight scene. She definitely has strength of character, in that she makes good decisions and isn’t easily swayed from doing whatever heroic act is required in any given scene no matter the odds, but there’s nothing behind any of her actions. There’s no there there. She does what a protagonist would do, not for any reason of her own—for example: because of her deep love of the Jedi, because she wants to find out the truth of her parents, because she’s wanted on her home planet for droid theft—but because the story requires it. And “because the story requires it” is never a good reason for doing things!

Lest you think I’m picking on the ladies, let me name the weakest character of all (and I apologize ahead of time to fans of the series): Ender Wiggan, of Ender’s Game. He has less agency than Bella and less reason for his actions than Ray. He might make one or two decisions in the entire book, the rest of the time just sort of moving around and doing things without purpose. We never see why he wants to do anything. His one character trait—and an informed one at that—is that he’s smart. That’s it. You could replace him with a lamp that’s intelligent enough to complete the objective of a war game (no, really, there’s a scene where all he does is complete the object of the game—get to the goal rather than focus on killing everyone on the other team—and he is lauded as a super genius) and nothing would change about that story.

What do all these weak characters have in common? Lack of personality, agency, goals, interests, quirks. Put simply, they are not well developed; their characterization is weak. Developing a character is a lot like developing film: the better you do it, the clearer the image should become. Thus, weak characters are a dark film that someone wrote on: “Bella is average and loves Edward”, “Ray is Force-sensitive and always tries to do the right thing”, “Ender Wiggam is a genius”. The end. Those don’t give a very clear impression of who we’re dealing with.

A strong character, i.e., a well-developed character, is one who we will know like the back of our hand by the end of the story, because we have such a clear picture of them. We know what drives them, or what makes them content. We know what they like, hate, and fear. We know odd little facts about them the way we know our friends’ foibles and eccentricities. A strong character feels like a real person.

Note that this in no way means that characters who are strong in the other two senses—physically fit or strong in character—can’t also be strong characters. There are plenty of multifaceted bruisers, fighters, and macho characters of both sexes out there—just watch anime! There are also, obviously, characters who never give up but, rather than being one-dimensional heroes, have traits that make them interesting and likable, like those who do what’s right despite wanting glory and money instead, or who are pure hearted but kinda dumb, or who became a hero due to some complicated backstory that still informs their actions. What I’m saying is, it’s possible to be a physically-strong strong character who also has strength of character!

But that’s not a necessity. Obviously, physical abilities are not a prerequisite to a well-developed character, but nor is a strong moral compass and grit. Take someone like Starscream, the ever scheming and completely untrustworthy second-in-command of the Decepticons in Transformers. Although tenacious in his own way, I don’t think anyone would hold him up as a model for “strength of character”. He’s backstabbing, weaselly, and willing to betray anyone (even himself!) to achieve his goals. No one would describe him as a weak character. What about Javert, from Les Miserables? He’s definitely got wherewithal—he needs it in order to obsess over one stolen loaf of bread for twenty years—but in his final hours, he gives up and chooses suicide over a world that doesn’t jive with his vision of justice. That might, ultimately, make him a weak person, but it cements him as one of the best examples of a strong character: he has a worldview and a goal and an obsessive personality; a real person like him would do something like that when his world comes crashing down. Many weak people, if depicted intricately and written clearly, might make strong characters.

We Need More Strong Female Characters

So, with this as our definition, do we need more SFCs in our fiction, or are there enough already? Yes, we do, and no, there aren’t. I’m not one of those people who demands a 50/50 ratio of male to female characters, but I do wish that the female characters we do have were stronger characters. The problem is that when we say “SFC”, writers hear “woman who can hold her own in a fight”, “woman who can save herself”, “woman who can’t be beat”, etc, and think that that absolves them from giving said women anything resembling a personality. They check the SFC box and pat themselves on the back for how great they are at writing "strong females", forgetting the “characters” part of the equation.

Honestly, I think the reason so many so-called SFCs are weak is precisely because it’s currently anathema to present a woman as anything but totally strong. Take Rey: having grown up on off-brand-Tatooine, she could have been savvy and money-hungry, perhaps planning on selling BB-8 back the Resistance instead of just delivering him. She could legitimately want to help Finn and the little droid get home, but might as well make a quick galactic credit while she’s at it. This would also payoff later, when she learns that she’s Force-sensitive, because there might actually be a temptation to the Dark Side—the easy side—contrasted with her innate desire to do the right thing. Wouldn’t that be interesting? Too bad! Because girls aren’t greedy! Girls can’t be tempted to take the easy way out! Girls need strong role-models! Role-models can't show weakness!

Which is dumb, because real people—men and women—are weak sometimes. People have physical and mental ailments. People have blind spots, and bad habits, and temptations. Even characters who are meant to be role-models can do so by showing that weaknesses can be overcome.

And this next statement might blow some people’s mind, but not every character, not even every female character, needs to be a role-model. The dearth of female characters in a lot of stories isn’t going to be solved by adding in a dozen women who are all do-gooding übermenschen; if you’re going for realism, you need characters with a diversity of goals, traits, and personalities, not just a diversity of sex.

Give me those meek and mild well-defined female characters. Give me shady, cowardly, or stingy ladies who feel like someone you could meet in real life. Give me musclebound fighters who have intricate motivations and backstory, or snarky fly-boy type ladies who totally can’t put her money where their mouth is. Give me female characters who struggle to do the right thing, or get exasperated with other people who they don’t consider up to snuff, or are super gung-ho with their hero duties to the detriment of their own safety, or any combination of the above. Basically, give me female characters who are as multifaceted and developed as the average male character.

We do need more SFCs in fiction, so we need to stop praising half-hearted, one-dimensional substitutes who happen to be female, because such characters are anything but strong.

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zchaotic · 5 years

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Things that Grind My Gears USUM and common complaints

1. People that said USUM butchered SM’s Story.

I loved SM’s story, I found Lillie’s growth to be amazing and I loved it when Lillie stood up to her mother. The story focused on her was great until the ending where Lillie went back to her mother to help her recover, it undoes most of her growth, we are given no indication that Lusamine has learned anything and the worse part, it ends the story with no closure.

Gladion also got stuck in a position pretty horrible, having to run the place he was abused in. It was a sloppy conclusion that dampened a great story.

Ultra Sun and Moon’s changes to the story are as followed; the Ultra Recon Squad being added in, focus on Necrozma as a villain, Lusamine’s motives being changed and how they affected her kids, Lillie’s focus and the post game.

While the Ultra Recon Squad didn’t do much besides foreshadow Necrozma and the pokemon could do a bit more for build up, Necrozma gave what is to me a better climax boss compared to Mother Beast.... in that we get to fight the fused alien monster.

Further more, USUM attempted to change Lusamine for a bit more than just fitting the Necrozma story, it tried to humanize her on screen. Something that SM DID NOT DO! For many, Lusamine in SM was an irredeemable, child abusing bitch and we didn’t get the info as to why she was doing things in the first place until the post game. Wrong place and wrong time for that backstory.

In USUM, they actually mentioned Mohn and add weight to Lusamine’s backstory. Him disappearing caused her downward spiral into the villain she became, who didn’t want to let things go. That is why she froze her pokemon and that is why she became such a control freak to her kids. This also adds to Lusamine’s “Mother knows best” mindset, where she believed she was right and everyone else should shut up and let her deal with things. Which is part of the reason she used Nebby for her goals this time, to feed that ego/ messiah complex and prove to everyone that she was right.

This dangerous thinking helped motivated Gladion when he took Type:Null and ran, he saw potential in the pokemon that Lusamine sure as hell didn’t. Gladion wanted to be free from that control and knew Type:Null was treated like dirt, so he wanted to give that pokemon a better life and prove its potential as a pokemon.

Lillie is a similar deal, she took Nebby and ran because she didn’t like how it was being treated. She did the only thing she could have done to stop this mistreatment and rescued the Cosmog. That is what lead to her escaping.

She still got inspired by you the player to become a trainer, change from the outfit her mother forced on her into her Z powered form, have a talk with her mother and have that goodbye with Nebby, in a more meaningful place and for reasons that make a bit more sense than. “I’m not a trainer.”

While Exeggutor Island was cut out and it was a bummer since that was less moments with Lillie. The majority of the things she said outside of what Lusamine use to be was moved over to Rainbow Rocket’s ending OR we got to see it. While Lillie’s talk with Lusamine was off screen, the girl told us what was going to happen so we can have an idea what was being talked about while we fight Necrozma.

We got to see Lusamine take that turn around for the better. It was no different from SM where Lusamine had a recovery off screen and Lillie decided to help her recover. (The later is worse for a LOT of reasons.)

While I admit that Lillie’s lack of focus made her part of USUM’s main story weaker, it gave a better conclusion to her family and other characters in comparison due to the following.

Lillie got to become a trainer on screen and continue to live with Kukui and Burnet, far away from Lusamine. Lillie still had around the same growth, though it isn’t the focus.

Gladion got to get away from Aether and live out life on his own with Silvally. He occasionally visits and there are signs that he isn’t in completely bad ties with his family.

Lusamine, though it is in dialogue, got an onscreen turn around. Thawed out her frozen pokemon after Rainbow Rocket/ was starting to do that, let her kids go and had closure with Mohn. A more believable redemption and closure compared to her SM ending where we see nothing but her as a villain.

Guzma had a bigger redemption arc as of RR.

The Captains have a last hurrah at Mina’s trial.

Hau had a more complete story arc where he takes things more seriously. I can close this story book and know how it ends for our characters.

Where exactly was things ruined outside of the lack of focus on Lillie? To me.... nothing.

2. USUM’s “Plot Holes” compared to SM.

In relation to the story, things play out the same way and the changes to Lusamine raised a lot of questions.

a. Why does Lillie still have the same look as in SM when Lusamine doesn’t have an obsession with Nihilego in USUM?

b. Why did Nihilego show up in USUM when Lusamine’s plans have nothing to do with it?

c. Why didn’t Lusamine use the legendary the Ultra Recon Squad have to go after Necrozma or why did the Recon Squad let Lusamine do what she did with Nebby.

d. Gladion’s reason for stealing Type:Null doesn’t make sense in USUM since it is just to get stronger and protect his family?

e. Why did they retcon Lusamine into “she didn’t do nothing wrong”/ Why is the game trying to depict Lusamine as a good person when she still abused her kids, has the frozen pokemon and tried to kill Nebby?

My answers are not popular... but here they go.

a. I did use to believe that Lusamine dressed Lillie up to resemble Nihilego, but then USUM changed that woman’s motives to where it had nothing to do with wanting that beast. But instead of raging about that “plot hole”, I believe that the resemblance is ultimately just a coincidence and nothing more in both sets of games. No one in the two sets of games has pointed out the resemblance. Just that Lusamine demanded Lillie and Gladion do what she says/ treated them like ornaments.

Lusamine was still such a control freak to her kids that she didn’t even let them pick their own look. They look what SHE wanted them to look/ do what she wanted them to do because “Mother Knows Best.” It’s pretty messed up, emotional abuse, it is why Lillie has little self confidence because she was treated as a child that should shut up and listen to the adult. It is how Gladion has all that frustration and need to do things his way.

Lillie changing her look and taking life into her own hands still has the same weight and impact in both sets of games. Lillie is stepping out of that smothering shadow and became her own person.

b. Nihilego showed up at Aether Paradise because the Aether Foundation was messing with Ultra wormholes. That is a given in both games, the reasons for the wormhole opening were different, BUT that is why the wormhole opened up. The Wormhole was just Nihilego’s, in SM that part was intended while in USUM it wasn’t.

c. Now for the legendary the URS have, that pokemon was their only ride in and out of home at Ultra Megaopolis, if they let their Solgaleo/ Lunala near Necrozma... that prism would eat them and they be screwed over. They let Lusamine do what she did with Nebby because it was a more acceptable lose/ result in a safer way to fight Necrozma in a more controllable way. The URS resulted to using theirs as a last resort when Nebby (You and Lillie’s only way into Ultra Space.) got eaten by Necrozma.

d. In USUM, Lusamine never had that obsession with the Ultra Beasts that escalated as it did in SM. Gladion took Type:Null and ran because 1. He had it with Lusamine’s abuse, didn’t like how she was treating Type:Null, stole it and ran to prove to that woman that she was wrong. With plans to come back once Null’s Power was realized. This can also split open in SM, where Gladion took Null and wanted to stop Lusamine, that woman was GONE and that boy’s only objective is to protect the family he had left and face his problems head on. So his change wasn’t that drastic and it opens him up more as a boy that has to manage quite a lot on his hands by himself.

e. As for the “Retcon!” There had to be a reason why Lusamine was nowhere near as extreme as she was in at SM. There was a reason why Lusamine’s goal had nothing to do with Nihilego in USUM. The post game of SM had this to say in the matter along with Guzma’s description of what Nihilego does to you.

From Wicke’s Note on Nihilego. “There have been sightings reported of this beast in Alola's past. Its most distinctive feature is its parasitic capability. When Nihilego latches on to a host, it does not manipulate its actions directly. Rather it awakens the host's own capabilities and boosts them to an extreme extent in order to protect itself. It injects the host with a sort of neurotoxin to achieve this effect. This neurotoxin of Nihilego's is incredibly stimulating and inspires feelings of extreme excitement and a lack of inhibition in its host. In other words, anything or anyone that a Nihilego latches on to will have its native skills forcibly activated to their fullest extent and will then act as it naturally desires to.”

This was the games attempt at trying to tell us that prior to SM’s events, Lusamine either got affected by the venom in some way or form... probably from the Wormhole experiments in opening the wormhole and trying to find Mohn or she kept focusing on the beasts and kept digging down the rabbit hole. Which was how she focused only on Nihilego and nothing else. It doesn’t excuse any of the crap she pulled, but it is the only real explanation we have and to be honest, she chose to dig that deep.

In USUM, Lusamine never got affected by that venom/ had something else to focus on and thus her motives for messing with the wormholes are different, she shows a care for her kids, the pokemon she has, etc.

Even without Nihilego, everything... from the abuse of her kids, the frozen pokemon, taking advantage of others and even allowing Null to happen were ALL from her and that is the reason we want to see this woman get knocked off her high horse. The things we should be mad at her for, because they all stemmed from her and it is why she is a villain in USUM.

For a bigger compare and contrast. http://ultraericthered.tumblr.com/post/167852568320/sm-lusamine-vs-usum-lusamine-part-1-while-her

http://ultraericthered.tumblr.com/post/167853295755/sm-lusamine-vs-usum-lusamine-part-2-in-sm

http://ultraericthered.tumblr.com/post/167853828520/sm-lusamine-vs-usum-lusamine-part-3-in-sm

USUM just made the changes so we can have that desire to see her get kicked and feel bad for how it got to the mess it did in the first place, while giving us the hope that she can be salvaged and have a turn around/ repair her relationship with her kids.

She became a problem for most of the game because she was going to go Leeroy on everyone and as everyone feared, it would have made things worse.

It is called, humanizing your villain on screen. Lusamine is less scary as a villain in this game, but she came off as a character with some actual depth to the things she has done as well as the villain Game Freak intended to make. One that can turn around for the better and have a hope of reconnecting with her kids in the end.

Nothing was really retconned, but things were cleared up in a way to show us what she would have been like without going down the rabbit hole she did in SM.

3. Lusamine’s abuse of her kids got swept under the rug, her turn around came out of nowhere and she got off Scott free in USUM.

a. It didn’t, Lusamine admitted to her kids that they were right to take the pokemon and run. She started making amends to the Cosmog she hurt right when you came back and Lillie only came back to Aether to see Nebby recover, after that they parted ways. Lusamine also had an identity crisis in between the post game and RR, where she realize just how much of a fuck up she was and after RR she decided on how to fix herself.

Getting her ass kicked was already done by Necrozma and more of it was not needed now that she learned her lesson and started making amends. This woman letting her kids go was another hint that she knew what she did was wrong, she got that and she hopes the best for them. (Seen with the goodbye between her and Gladion.)

b. Lusamine’s whole Leeroy Jenkins thing backfired, Necrozma is causing problems on Alola... problems she tried to prevent and funny enough, problems she caused in SM. The Ultra Recon Squad were chewing her out for her crap and Lillie had her turn with her while you were fighting Necrozma. It may have been off screen, but it is common sense to think THAT is when people were able to get it through her head in just how reckless she has been and get her to self reflect on the things she has done.

c. Despite Lusamine getting sick in SM at the end... she and the whole of Aether got off scott free for their shit in there as well. It’s pokemon, it is very likely Lillie and Bill would fix her up and she would recover. (Sacred Ashes exist for a reason people... its that strong of medicine.)

Another thing in Pokemon. Archie, Maxie, Colress and grunts from various villain teams have gotten off scott free for their shit and in USUM, Lusamine not having legal repercussions isn’t that different from them. So this didn’t bother me so much and if anything, Aether being raided by Team RR works as karma since now they are being taken advantage off... by force.

4. USUM should have been a sequel instead of ruining SM’s story/ should have been DLC.

a. I don’t understand why they didn’t make a sequel, BW2 was known for this... but there were a couple plot holes that came from BW2. One, what happened to the previous protagonist and all the characters that got involved with that one just mention them? It made things a bit shallower since the new protagonist is a substitute for them.

In addition, BW2′s story... compared to BW... wasn’t that great. It was a basic, bad guys are using a legendary for their goals, cause trouble in random locations etc that we see in every other game and unlike BW it wasn’t the whole plot. While a Sequel to SM might give closure... it would have caused as many problems as what BW2 did.

So I kind of appreciate that USUM was a rewrite of the story, it helped polish things out and give a better sense of closure. While SM had a more emotional story, I would take USUM as a whole over it due to that one giving closure while still having some of those emotions.

Also, DLC wouldn’t have covered a whole new challenge with the trials, trainers, new pokemon ETC... this was done in Crystal, Emerald and Platinum. So why is USUM doing any problems when some games with DLC abuse the hell out of it and milk us for money?

I apologize for the long rant, but I wanted to get this out of my system.

SM are good games, but USUM came around, did things a lot better in most areas and became the definitive edition of this generation. I really wish more people see it as the improved version of SM instead of a hindrance to Gen 7, it and the story doesn’t deserve the hate it gets.

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twitchesandstitches · 5 years

Text

How Tsuyu Got Big

Some time after they had become proper adult heroes, Izuku had figured out a way to imbue the power of One For All into others, and he’d found that it had an… unusual effect on the heroines.

They didn’t just get powered up. They got big.

His mother had grown bigger than their entire street. Uraraka could hold their old academy in her hands. Jiro made skyscrapers look small. Mina was even bigger than that. And all of them, by some process Izuku didn’t understand but suspected had something to do with One For All giving them a body capable of sustaining its granted power indefinitely, became outrageously, impossibly curvaceous. Inexplicably hyper-milky breasts growing bigger than a huge portion of their bodies, hips wider than several feet across (proportionately, at least), and monstrously big backsides.

And they had the same amount of power One For All could manifest at its peak, available all the time and expressed in their massive bodies, merging with their Quirks. He felt it was his duty to make all his friends the very best they could be.

Tsuyu, Froppy, deserved that.

Izuku very gently held Tsuyu’s hands, gazing up into her inhuman eyes; big, adapted for the dark and the depths, heavy black hair hanging long over her face and with the slightly unreal sheen of unique hydrophobic strands.

She was hunched over, her spine curved in such a way that her shoulders were just pushed out like that, her chest thrust down and her head tilted up. Her body seemed built to be at least try to be quadrupedal all the time. And factor in the inhuman projection of her face, the toxic smell of the slime upon her skin, the webbing between her fingers or the way a tongue as wide across as her arm had a habit of poking from her lips…

The deck was stacked against heteromorphs like her. There was a reason that so many villains were people whose Quirks marked them as other to the rest of the world, even in this beautiful new age of uniqueness. Tsuyu was a frog woman, and she didn’t look conventionally human, or entirely photogenic. The modern camera lingered on heroic bodies not so different from the humans of the past, and shied away from those with bodies even more unique than their Quirks were.

There was an assumption that villain equaled heteromorph.

Izuku swallowed, his hands gently cradling Tsuyu’s much larger hands. No, perhaps not the right image, he thought. Her hands were wider than his, the fingers longer, but they were also slimmer. They didn’t have that much mass, and when she squeezed back, it was genuinely surprising how strong her grip was.

How did he even say it, he wondered? How to get across how much he admired her, even idolized her, for never giving up no matter how badly she was treated as a heroine for being a heteromorph? How to say something like that, without implying he thought her Quirk counted as a disadvantage? Without offending her, or being cruel…?

He had no idea how to say it, and he was too scared to try.

He was also a little bit distracted by how pretty Tsuyu was – or at least, seemed to him. Familiarity, it is said, breeds contempt, but it also breeds love; affection; and every feature blossoms into perfect loveliness. The heart can be like its own magnifying glass.

“It’s okay,” Tsuyu said softly.

He swallowed. How did she know what he was thinking…?

Gently, softly, she leaned upwards, taller than him even hunched over and built for crouching and four legs, and kissed him on the forehead.

Her lips made his skin tingle. Faint traces of poison sunk into his skin, not painful but, electrifying, like his blood was several degrees warmer. He felt a little bit woozy, not just from Tsuyu kissing him.

Focus! He told himself.

“I...” he started. He shook his head and started again. “I don’t know anyone who deserves this more than you. But… are you sure?” he hesitated. “I haven’t done this with someone whose Quirk is built in, like yours. I don’t really know what will happen.”

Tsuyu’s expressions could be hard to read, but she seemed unsurprised. “I always wanted to be the biggest hero I could be, do everything I could to help other people.” She looked at her hands. Broad, webbed, shining slightly with her bodily secretions. She’d always loved herself, even when it marked her as other in this day and age. A freak, a villain to be. And, if she had been born in older days, an inhuman monster.

They were, all the same, hands that could swim fast to people drowning. Her leg muscles could propel her farther, her body breath underwater. She could do things no one else could, and she would never be ashamed of what she was.

“It amplifies Quirks,” she said thoughtfully. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said. He let go of her hands, and he thought of the crystalline network of power stretching back from him, to the first user of his own Quirk. “My Quirk stockpiles power and while the basic use is to boost my strength, it can do the same to Quirks. And when I share it with others, it boosts their Quirks.” And, for reasons he wasn’t entirely clear on, when he did it to women, they always became extremely big. A latent gigantification Quirk that became active when he powered them up, perhaps? “To about the same level that it does for my own abilities, but, uh, I haven’t done it with anyone with powers like you, Tsuyu.”

The implication was clear: it might super mutate you. You get treated bad enough as you are now. Are you okay with this?

Tsuyu nodded grimly. “I want to be the best heroine I can be. Don’t care if I look like a villain, or what people think a villain looks like. I want...” she looked at her mutant hands again. “...I want to make a world where being a villain is always about what you do, not because you look different from everyone else.”

She is the best heroine, Izuku thought faintly, his heart fluttering. “Then, if you’re sure…?”

Tsuyu nodded. “I am.”

He swallowed, taking her hands once more. “Then, um. All I have to do is touch you, or if you’re touching me, so, I suppose this is fine...”

Tsuyu tilted her head. Her eyes were fixed upon him and he had a vague feeling of a what a fly might feel like. “May I kiss you.”

The question was so unexpected he blurted out, “Um, okay!”

Her mouth closed around his own. Not a kiss to the forehead or cheek, something chaste and platonic. This was… very much not platonic at all. Her arms at the moment were bare, her cheek and neck slid against his skin, and she gripped him in a light hug, and her skin made his body sing in a sweet, painless burn.

Her poisons, as gentle and loving as Tsuyu herself, seeped into his body, digging in and anchoring there, and he felt his body relax as her kiss deepened. A passionate kiss, an intense kiss; her hands squeezed around him even though her fingers didn’t move, the same sticky pad modifications that she could use to cling to walls anchoring onto his arms. She could squeeze without even gripping!

Her body was cooler than normal, strong and sliding against him like she intended on simply keeping him there forever; her breasts pressed heavily against his torso, his skin locking against them and sealed to her, and her lips oozed a frothy, delightful substance that made his head light, his tongue fizzle.

He relaxed against her, into her, and as Tsuyu straightened up, allowing her body to hold him up with her sticking-to-things ability, he let the power of One For All flow into her.

Nine generations of power, including his own refinement of the generational flame, went from him, and the flames of it flowed into her. A sun-power, a blazing engine of heroic ability with the resolve of heroes on the same level of goodness as All Might himself, their determination and will alive in these embers-

For a moment, Tsuyu thought she felt nine minds regarding her. One, very close at hand, still kissing her and she felt the worshipful and naked admiration that shook her, in a pleasant way. Another was distant, burning but not yet there, and yet familiar, and doing the spiritual equivalent of giving her a thumbs up.

Seven others were there. Old. Bright and strange, regarding her with a cool intensity honed over many years of being heroes in some of the darkest times of recent history. She felt their power, felt that they were real, and they pressed upon her mind, examining her minutely, passing their judgment

And she thought she saw shadowy figures, burning with great light from within, and they raised their hands in affirmative salute. “You got this,” said the voice of a woman.

Power flooded into Tsuyu like a dam abruptly filled to maximum capacity; light – no, fire – not that either, a sun bursting inside her, she didn’t have words for what it felt like but all her muscles swelled up and were glowing, she felt plugged into the grid of the entire world, she was gazing right into the secret mind of the cosmos and it gave her a high five, her mind blazed and her heart beat fast and something in her grew.

Tsuyu gasped, breaking the kiss and stepping back on her webbed, flipper-like feet. Her body glowed a brilliant green, the power settling down.

There was a slight sense of pressure within her. It wasn’t insistent or painful, a delightful flow around her, like a big blanket slowly being peeled away so she could flex herself.

“What is this...” Tsuyu took a breath, sighing in wonder. “Oh, Izuku… is this how you feel all the time, it feels so… nice...”

And the pressure broke, and she became… herself.

Tsuyu felt the world pull away from her. Her bones, her muscles, her skin tingled and shimmered as she glowed a brighter green, and then she grew upwards!

Up Tsuyu grew, going from a fairly average height (not counting how she had to hunch) to a far greater size, her new power amplifying her body’s stature to one that could properly contain what had been given to her. In moments she became taller than the buildings around her, homes and businesses and skyscrapers very quickly below her face – no, her shoulders. She ascended past them, her sides and hips soaring above them, her body growing bigger and bigger and BIGGER and showing no signs of stopping, glowing so brightly she was like a gentle secondary sun, closer to hand.

Izuku had already taken many steps back, familiar with what the change would do (his mother, Uraraka and several heroines had already gotten very big, very fast), but he wasn’t prepared for her going almost instantly from her original size to this spectacle. The area went dark: ‘where did the day go?! Why is everything dark!? Oh, oh!

How big is she getting now!?’

Tsuyu hit her full size fast, ballooning almost instantly to a new size that cast a shadow over much of Japan, shrouding mountains and cities behind her. It was beyond any biological possibility, her power so great she was making the square-cube law a joke. Even the biggest skyscraper in all Japan was shorter than her knee, and seemed no bigger than a stick toy to her. Izuku, carried up on her expanding foot and now resting on a webbed toe bigger across than several street, looked up and saw nothing of the sky but Tsuyu.

She had been averaged sized. Now she was at least a mile tall. Five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet of Froppy.

Beneath her, the city was unharmed, her body pressing against it so softly that though it should have been annihilated by her growth, her skin simply sank around every building and person and the smallest animals to even the ants, making quite sure it wasn’t doing any harm. Izuku, later, would wonder if it was a function of One For All to limit the collateral damage potential or Tsuyu’s own subconscious forcing her body to do no harm, or perhaps both mixing up in a shield against their own potential effect on the world.

Traffic stopped cold as people halted and stared up at the monumental sight above them and around them; her thighs filled up the sky, her hips blocked out the sun, her hair was a monstrously vast curtain above. Izuku couldn’t even make out most of her now, just a general sense of her outline and an impression of bigness, but he knew it wasn’t done yet.

The height was just one growth stage.

Those powerful legs, capable of delivering wall-shattering kicks or propelling her across a street, began to swell. The power granted to her settled down and now that her body was at the right scale to express it, One For All went to work finishing up the renovation. Her legs expanded, with a faint tearing noise as her clothes rode up! Her legs were already pretty big, and they went from just big to smacking together as they swelled outwards. Thigh muscles grew heavy and thicker around than her arms, the soft fat of her legs making them look like a deceptively solid chunk.

Out they went, and up rode her pants; the legs shredded off entirely, leaving only a slim section of new shorts now riding up really high, and stretched to the limit. Tsuyu shifted slightly as her hips, widening just as much as her thighs, finished growing out to their full size, and she wobbled in a brief stagger as one side stabilized, and then the other. Her hands came down, and rested against hips broader across than four whole Tsuyus! Her whole body became significantly thicker, even at the waist, so that she was enormously curvy, but her hips were the biggest part of her.

There was a faint sound; Tsuyu’s calm face still betrayed a hint of her embarrassment as her butt expanded to the same obscene degrees as her hips, swelling out into two gigantic globes rising as high as her elbows, consuming most of her thighs. The huge shelf wobbled behind her, and her shorts vanished into a kind of improbable thong. It was a miracle it even survived.

Izuku, from his view below, saw her body growing and blotting out more of the sky, and her pants just… disappearing, for the most part, and more Tsuyu wobbling into view. He was extremely red and in no position to comment on anything.

She wasn’t done yet, either. While her hips had finished growing, legs disproportionately slim below the knee compared to her huge thighs and hips but still very strong, her bust wobbled. Her breasts swelled too, overtaking her shirt and growing several dozen cup sizes in seconds… and then three dozen after that, beyond the limit of any conventional bra size; they flopped out, so heavy she almost fell forwards, their massive swells curving from chest to belly, covering that part of her body completely, and projecting out almost four feet from her point of view, and perhaps six feet around each.

Below, two additional shadows, not quite so huge as the mountain-spanning one behind her, grew at the front of her shadow. The people gaped; no giant heroine had ever been this big! Some were more proportionately buxom, yes, but… this tall, with this much combined curves? It was just unheard of!

Now her Quirk was harmonizing with the power given to her, and her throat bulged. Her mouth opened impossibly wide as her lips thickened, expanding so large they dominated most of her face but for her flattened nostrils, and the bulge in her throat got bigger; Tsuyu panted, slime dripping out in huge globs that rained down and captured whole streets in a crystallizing ooze that left the people quite woozy and happy. And a hint of tongue rolled out of her mouth, a lot bigger than usual, and slid it. It looked bigger than before, larger than her arm. It kept extending out, and the bulge in her throat just got bigger.

It flopped out of her mouth. Thicker than her arm… bigger than her head, no. Wider than her whole body. No, bigger than that, a massive and prehensile slab of tongue curling with inhuman dexterity, and she unfurled it to its full length, and it stretched out over a full mile into the sky. She then slurped it back up, just a little edge poking out into her huge lips, and somehow she managed to pack it all away.

The rest of her froggy traits got amplified as well; her skin turned a faintly shimmering tone that suggested sliminess, or at least a moist touch; her jaws flexed more easily as she adjusted it around her tongue, briefly stretching wide enough that she could have swallowed something as big as she was. A set of feathery gills like an axolotl, unnecessary but perhaps for show or something from One For All, appeared on her sides. And her body continued to change, mostly internal; it would be sometime, for example, before anyone learned that her stomach had been converted into a kind of extra dimensional storage space, bigger on the inside, or that her poisons were now strong enough to affect a whole continent with a single droplet and overwhelm them with soothing euphoria.

Her breasts swelled again, heavy with something that wasn’t exactly milk but was close enough. Wet spots appeared at the front of her shirt, but she wasn’t entirely aware of it, nor just how productive she’d abruptly become. Her body wobbled again, as if for emphasis, and then the green glow faded.

And like that, it was done.

Tsuyu took a moment or two as the sensations of change stopped and she looked down at herself, and how much more of her there was. Wonderingly, she touched a massive breast, yelping at how sensitive it felt, and the liquid packed inside. She turned and made a soft, curious rumble at how far back her butt extended, taking up so much mass!

Then she looked down, and down, and further down. She squinted, trying to make out the city below.

Izuku, getting an idea of what was going through her mind, called out, “Think small! Like, like an egg in a microwave! Spread it out and imagine the power being turned down, as much as you can!”

She shouldn’t have been able to hear him, but it seemed One For All accounted for that as well. Tsuyu slowly dwindled, and gradually the sky was revealed once more. Over the span of several minutes, she shrank down to a more manageable size, descended past skyscrapers and apartment buildings, back down to street level, until she was about twelve feet tall or so. Incredibly big, but manageable. The same couldn’t be said of her outrageous curves.

Tsuyu glanced down, looking very disoriented by the experience. She absently put a hand on one oversized breast, and it sloshed at her touch. “Hrm,” she said. “Uh, that didn’t get any smaller.” Her power-engorged curves had gotten smaller, in all honesty, but from her point of view it may not have been apparent. Her backside was still a shelf dominating the street, and her breasts wouldn’t have been able to fit into even the roomiest doorway designed for the Quirkless. Her clothes were marginally roomier, though.

“Eep,” Izuku squeaked.

“Thank you for this,” Tsuyu said, leaning over – providing a huge view of her cleavage in the process – and gently picking him up. She kissed him again.

It took not long after that to make the news; the giant heroines, all whom were known to be acquaintances of the hero Deku, had been something of a mystery for a while, expanding from nowhere to become absolutely massive buxom giants unrelated to their Quirks at all. Their huge personalities and engorged assets had made them highly popular, but until this point…

Absolutely none of them were as big as Tsuyu, and it was a revolution in thought when she rose up from her full size, rising from the ocean, and cradled in her hands was an entire fleet, sunk and feared lost.

The world’s biggest, strongest heroine was here. Froppy had already made her debut, but the sight of her striding across the horizon, one mile tall and gently swallowing the ships whole only to spit them back out ashore, their passengers ecstatic to thank their heroine…

Well, it was a small wonder she hit Number One Hero in the global rankings, almost instantly.

#/#//#///#////#/////#queued #my writing #fics #crossthicc!izuku #crossthicc!tsuyu #crossthicc!bnha #bnha growth AU

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laurapora · 6 years

Text

Afterglow - {Spock} Pt. 1

Orbit - A sphere of activity, interest, or application.

Stifling a yawn, Mina Sulu entered the Botany laboratory and settled down behind her desk with a cup of herbal tea. It was approaching 1800 hours, and while most of the crew members aboard the Starship Enterprise were winding down, she was just getting started.

The twenty-six year old junior science officer had been assigned to work night shifts, which she personally took great enjoyment in. Peace and quiet were both rare instances on the ship, and she nearly jumped out of her seat at the prospect of attaining the position.

Working into the early hours of morning didn't bother Mina at all, she had always been something of a night owl, and more importantly it allowed her to avoid times of peak activity on the vessel. Not that she didn't appreciate a little excitement now and then, but her idea of a good time had more to do with microscopes, and alien flora than it did Phasers or planetary exploration.

After completing a routine check of the current specimens in the lab, she eagerly began inspecting the newest finds that the field officers had brought in. The room was silent aside from the whirring of machinery as Mina ran diagnostic tests on the foreign plant life, taking extensive notes with a PADD.

Despite being heavily immersed in her work, Mina kept a book open on her desk and would occasionally stop to scan a page, her dark eyes absorbing the content with notable interest. She was so absorbed in her routine that she failed to notice a figure standing in the doorway.

Their presence was preventing the automated door from sliding shut, and they took advantage of this fact to observe Mina's actions for a minute. Then, stepping into the lab, the man cleared his throat softly.

She glanced up quickly and saw that her brother, Hikaru Sulu, had stopped by for their usual evening chat. An occurrence that Mina simultaneously dreaded, and enjoyed. The two siblings were very close, but that often meant Hikaru stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Growing up, he had assumed the role of being her protector, and it was something he had a hard time relinquishing even now.

She offered him a smile, and resumed her work hoping he would get the hint and leave sooner rather than later.

Hikaru wandered over to Mina's desk, attempting to keep a casual demeanor, but his attention was trained on the book he had seen her pouring over. Gazing down at the pages, he frowned.

"You're still studying Vulcan?"

Mina sighed, she knew that tone all too well, it was his 'I don't approve of your decision' voice.

"Consistency is typically how one achieves progress." She responded evenly.

"Progress towards what? There is only one Vulcan aboard this ship, and he speaks English perfectly well. There would be no practical reason for you to address him in any other way."

Mina bristled, her agitation growing with each second. "Can't a woman have a hobby?"

"It's never just a hobby with you, Mina." Hikaru said quietly, and stepped closer to his sister.

"You've got that same look in your eyes. I've seen it enough to know that you're fixating again, and on your senior officer, no less. It's a waste of time, and you know it. There's just no getting through to him."

Mina took a step back, and shot her brother a dark look. "I appreciate your concern, Hikaru, but must inform you that your fears are completely unfounded as I am perfectly capable of discerning fact from fiction, and therefore have no ulterior interest in Vulcan culture beyond intellectual stimulation."

She moved away from him, and crossed the laboratory to silence a machine that had completed a scan to identify possible unknown biological entities in plant composition.

"And besides that, I don't think it's any of your damn business what I read, or enjoy."

Hikaru let out of a frustrated groan, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

He waited, but Mina gave no response, and Sulu turned to exit the lab.

"Good night, Mina."

"Good morning, Hikaru."

__________

One of the most irritating things about working with her brother was that he knew her too well. Hikaru hadn't been entirely wrong when he mentioned Mina's tendency to fixate on things, sometimes to the point of obsession. She'd been that way her entire life, although, her control over it was far more refined these days.

Still, it hadn't stopped her from developing an interest in a particular first officer. Out of all the humans and humanoids aboard the Enterprise, Mina had to set her sights on the one who was, quite literally, emotionally unavailable. She didn't need anyone to tell her how ridiculous the notion was, but it seemed the laws of attraction had a twisted sense of humor, as Mina was undeniably captivated by the pragmatic, and ever logical Lieutenant Commander Spock.

Tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, she frowned and attempted to regain focus on the current situation. This proved useless, however, because moments later the door of the laboratory slid open once again.

"If you've come back to question more of my life choices, I don't want to hear it." Mina announced, not bothering to check who had entered.

"I have no intention of discussing anything pertaining to that subject." A cool voice replied.

She gasped, and spun around, cursing inwardly as her gaze fell upon the pointed ears, and impeccable posture of the Vulcan commander.

"My apologies, sir." Mina clutched the PADD to her chest, heat rising in her face. "I thought you were someone else."

Spock arched an eyebrow, "Yes, that is quite clear."

"Is there something I can do for you?"

There was a brief silence, during which Mina was painfully aware of her constricted breathing. She felt like a fish who had been suddenly thrust from calm, comfortable waters into the stark and unforgiving air.

Spock gave no indication that he noticed her discomfort, his keen eyes assessing her as if they were meeting for the first time.

In a way, that was true. Neither of them had yet made direct contact before now due to Mina being reassigned only one week ago. She had taken comfort in that anonymity, and having it ripped away so quickly left her floundering, for lack of a better word.

"I thought it would be beneficial for both of us to be formally introduced. As Science Officer it is my responsibility to evaluate the performance of all those who work within the Sciences Division aboard this vessel. This includes conducting intermittent progress reports to ensure that your work is satisfactory."

"Right, of course. I was just finishing up diagnostics on alien flora collected from the latest expedition to the class L Planet that was charted yesterday."

Spock nodded, "Please continue, I would like to monitor your procedures first-hand."

Mina gulped, and a shiver ran through her body. No pressure.

She clutched her stylus tightly to hide the tremble in her hands, and resumed documenting the results of each lab test as it was completed. It was hard to tell whether or not Spock could sense her unease, but he had the decency to at least give her some space while she worked.

About ten minutes passed before he spoke again, causing Mina to jump slightly as his confident voice broke the silence.

"You are attempting to learn Vulcan."

She threw a cursory glance over her shoulder, and saw his tall figure stooping slightly to read the book she had left open on her desk. Her eyes widened, but she tried to remain calm. There was no reason for Spock to draw any rash conclusions as her brother had.

"Yes, I've always found language to be an integral part of cultural study, and I'm already fluent in four languages, so I figured why not add a fifth?"

Mina cringed as her statement lingered in the room. She hadn't meant to sound so pretentious, but her thoughts never seemed to translate very well into spoken word. One of the many reasons she loathed small talk.

Spock tipped his head to one side, eyes curious. "Cultural studies is a topic more suited to someone interested in Communications. Is it possible that you intend to one day join your brother as a member of the helm crew?"

Mina grinned in spite of herself, and chuckled softly.

A slight crease appeared on Spock's brow. "I was not aware that my question could be perceived as humorous."

"No, no it wasn't so much your question as..." She shrugged, "to be honest sir, just the thought of working alongside my brother is laughable. I can assure you I'm perfectly happy where I am. Learning about other cultures is simply a pastime I enjoy."

Confusion flitted over her commander's features, but he quickly resumed his neutral expression.

"Very well." He paused, glancing down once more at the book. "If you find yourself unable to understand an aspect of Vulcan linguistics, you may refer to me as a guide. I would be most interested to hear your thoughts on the structure and syntax of the language as it compares to the others you've studied."

Now it was Mina's turn to be confused. If it wasn't for the blood pounding in her ears, she could have sworn that Spock just admitted to wanting the two of them to carry out a casual conversation.

"Oh, that would be great, thank you." She managed to say.

He bowed slightly, and spun around towards the exit. "Good evening, Officer Sulu."

She frowned at the use of her last name, it reminded her too much of Hikaru.

"Actually, sir, you can call me Mina."

His head turned slightly, eyebrow arched. "Is your title an insufficient way to address you?"

Realizing her mistake, Mina quickly shook her head, "No, of course not, forget I said anything."

She faced away from his inquiring gaze, and busied herself with a machine, letting out a relieved sigh when the door finally slid shut.

#spock #startrek #sulu #starship enterprise #fanfiction #love #romance

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garden-ghoul · 7 years

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appendix blog, part 3

“working out... is.... good?”

Hey so I’m skipping Eorl, I already blogged him, or at least I read him. I don’t conceptually separate those processes any more, thanks fiends. I, uh, I meant to type friends there but let’s call it a Freudian typo.

Ah fuck yes after the list of Rohirrim kings it’s time for DURIN’S FOLK

So “Durin is the name that the Dwarves used for the eldest of the Seven Fathers of their race.” Are we ever going to hear about the other six fathers, or is it one of those things where dwarves are extremely close-mouthed about it and only Durin, who they cannot ever shut up about, is ever mentioned near other races?

Durin “slept alone” until the awakening of his people. Did all dwarves sleep alone? Is this a gem kindergarten situation? Please say yes. Please say there is a Durin-shaped hole somewhere that is only known to dwarves and they like, sometimes try to fit themselves into it. The one who is the same size and shape as the original Durin becomes Durin the N+1th. “This hole was made for me,” he declares, and fits himself into it. Everyone cheers, and then they fish him out with a hook before he can slide too far into the mountain. Anyway during the time of Durin VI the dwarves, who are in an absolutely defensible position but are too bored to stop mining, wake up a balrog and have to flee. Durin VI’s son Nain goes to Erebor and finds a very nice rock; most of the Khazad-dum dwarves go to the Grey Mountains in the north, because exploring is fun and profitable! Unfortunately north of the mountain everything is full of dragons. “At last Dáin I, together with Frór his second son, was slain at the door of his hall by a great cold-drake.” I really like the implication I just made up, that the north is full of dragons because they migrated from Angband.

BTW Dain’s other sons are Thror and Gror. Apparently there’s something absolutely essential about the fabric of Ea that makes all peoples independently name their kids dumb themed names. Someone during the Song of Songs or w/e they’re calling it these days accidentally kept repeating one of their trills and it became a line of code essential to the nature of life. Fuck this.

Thror goes to Erebor again, and he makes lots of friendly alliances with other dwarf clans and the humans who live near Erebor (’northmen’). UNFORTUNATELY you cannot have a great and extremely wealthy time around here without a dragon hearing about it, so Smaug the Golden comes to say hi. Thrain II and his dad Thror (original flavor) flee in secret, and then Thror goes into Khazad-dum (possibly it was a suggestion of his Ring). Thror’s bff creeps over to the doors of Khazad-dum and a bunch of orcs are hiding behind the doorframe with Thror’s corpse, presumably working his jaw like a puppet, and laughing their asses off. Written on Thror’s face is the word AZOG. He is king of Khazad-dum now. Thror’s bff tries to take his body for burial, but the orcs throw a sack of small change at his head. It sounds pretty funny to me, but for Nar it’s probably a horrifying parody of a weregild, and an insult. When he looks back, the orcs are hacking up Thror’s body to feed to the local crows. Omg I hope orcs and crows are friends.

Thrain and Nar muster a ton of dwarves to fight, because this will not be borne. They cut through most of the orc strongholds like butter BUT Azog has been saving his strength in Khazad-dum. “So began the Battle of Azanulbizar, at the memory of which the Orcs still shudder and the Dwarves weep.” I LOVE. The fact that absolutely everyone who was involved with this battle in any way has inherited trauma about it. War is no good for anyone at all! Azog has a jolly old time doing murders, until he realizes that HIS guys are actually getting more murdered! He kills Nain and laughs at him, but Nain’s son Dain unexpectedly kills him. It’s accounted extremely heroic, because Dain is like, 16 in dwarf years. It says that “long life and many battles lay before him, until old but unbowed he fell at last in the War of the Ring.” Wait um. Do you mean... the one that takes place in Lord of the Rings? Were dwarves fighting in that?? This is taking place WAY after the Last Alliance isn’t it?? No okay I looked at the end and found the answer, which is that the War of the Ring actually was like 100 years long but relatively low-intensity for most of it.

Anyway,

When at last the battle was won the Dwarves that were left gathered in Azanulbizar. They took the head of Azog and thrust into its mouth the purse of small money, and then they set it on a stake. But no feast nor song was there that night; for their dead were beyond the count of grief. Barely half of their number, it is said, could still stand or had hope of healing.

Half of everyone is dead or dying, and the dwarf alliance still uses their last bit of energy to be petty. Iconic.

Thrain wants to claim Khazad-dum and live there, but everyone else flat-out refuses. Still a balrog in there, dude! I mean, it didn’t bother the orcs, though. I don’t think balrogs really discriminate between orcs and other sorts of dudes, so maybe they could sneak up and kill it in its sleep! But Dain says that the world must change and some other power come before Durin’s folk will live again in Moria. That was Gandalf, right? He did slay the balrog. I hope the dwarves can come back now in the fourth age!! It’s going to take so much fixing up but like... it still exists, mostly intact. A chance to reclaim their heritage.

Thrain and his son Thorin go into exile with the few people who will still follow him--almost everyone is pissed that he got their entire families killed and they can’t even go get treasure in Khazad-dum. So Thrain and co settle in the east of Ered Luin. There’s a bit here about how the Seven Rings turned out to be totally pointless for Sauron because you simply Cannot enslave dwarves. “They were made from their beginning of a kind to resist most steadfastly any domination. Though they could be slain or broken, they could not be reduced to shadows enslaved to another will.” I love the implication that because dwarves were sculpted--note that we never hear AFAIK what elves or humans are made of!--they are more substantial and solid. Mmm I think they have a super solid connection to Arda, and just as even Arda Marred is still largely influenced by the Valar dwarves cannot be wholly corrupted. IDK it’s just the,,, shadow vs stone thing. Sauron enslaves people and it destroys their substance. Dwarves are too substantial? Someone help me out here.

Thrain is still influenced by the Ring, though, driven to go in search of Erebor and its treasure again.

As soon as he was abroad with few companions he was hunted by the emissaries of Sauron. Wolves pursued him, Orcs waylaid him, evil birds shadowed his path, and the more he strove to go north the more misfortunes opposed him. There came a dark night when he and his companions were wandering in the land beyond Anduin, and they were driven by a black rain to take shelter under the eaves of Mirkwood. In the morning he was gone from the camp, and his companions called him in vain...

I love how fairy-tale-ish this passage is. Wolves pursued him! Evil birds shadowed his path! He vanished utterly into air! Sauron was the boojum all along! I’m jazzed about this. Less jazzed about the following explanation: he was kidnapped and tortured in Dol Guldur. Whatever, I guess.

Meanwhile Thorin, who is now king, hammers away on his anvil. It will keep his arm strong. Hella.

Thorin meets Gandalf by accident in an inn in Bree and is like “hey I have been having dreams about you, that’s pretty weird right?” “No no,” says Gandalf, “actually I have been dreaming about you too.” And THAT is how The Hobbit happened.

Wait omg it says here Fili and Kili are Thorin’s “sister-sons.” THIS IMPLIES THE EXISTENCE OF A SECOND DWARF GENDER... WTF... don’t fucking toy with my heart like this Johnald. AH--

Dís was the daughter of Thráin II. She is the only dwarf-woman named in these histories. It was said by Gimli that there are few dwarf-women, probably no more than a third of the whole people. They seldom walk abroad except at great need. They are in voice and appearance, and in garb if they must go on a journey, so like to the dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other peoples cannot tell them apart. This has given rise to the foolish opinion among Men that there are no dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves 'grow out of stone'.

It is because of the fewness of women among them that the kind of the Dwarves increases slowly, and is in peril when they have no secure dwellings. For Dwarves take only one wife or husband each in their lives, and are jealous, as in all matters of their rights. The number of dwarf-men that marry is actually less than one-third. For not all the women take husbands: some desire none; some desire one that they cannot get, and so will have no other.

Why did they even mention Dis? She doesn’t do anything. I’m retconning, this, obviously. Dwarves just have a super low fertility rate, and woman gender is one of those things that like... doesn’t translate well. There’s no woman gender, because dwarves haven’t invented gender. There’s just dwarves who are currently capable of bearing children. I can’t remember if I got this from Pratchett or not, but it’s a good chance. I just really like the idea that dwarves kind of nod and smile uncertainly when asked to understand a culture that has genders. “Humans really do have an exceptionally high fertility rate,” murmurs one to another. “A lot of ‘women.’” “One just can’t keep track of them,” sighs the other. This is kind of incoherent because Tolkien is actively trying to ruin it, but whatever. Moving on.

After the fall of Sauron, Gimli brought south a part of the Dwarf-folk of Erebor, and he became Lord of the Glittering Caves. He and his people did great works in Gondor and Rohan. For Minas Tirith they forged gates of mithril and steel to replace those broken by the Witch-king. Legolas his friend also brought south Elves out of Greenwood, and they dwelt in Ithilien, and it became once again the fairest country in all the westlands.

Nice! Gay! Also holy shit, mithril gates. Where the hell did they get all that. Hey maybe Sauron had a huge stockpile of mithril and some people went to sift thru the wreckage of Mordor and reclaim it. Radical.

We have heard tell that Legolas took Gimli Glóin's son with him because of their great friendship, greater than any that has been between Elf and Dwarf. If this is true, then it is strange indeed: that a Dwarf should be willing to leave Middle-earth for any love, or that the Eldar should receive him, or that the Lords of the West should permit it.

Hey. Hey. That’s gay.

#blog of the rings

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juanjohnl · 5 years

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QUEEN’S SHADOW REVIEW

“I am Queen Amidala. This is my decoy, my protection, my loyal bodyguard. I’m sorry for the deception, but it was necessary to protect myself.”

How does one become a handmaiden to the queen of Naboo? How is she trained? Does she just need makeup and hair training or should she be able to not only defend herself but also her queen? If called upon to impersonate the queen herself, what preparation does she need to credibly fool not just a potential enemy, but more importantly people who know the queen well?

If she doesn’t make the final cut, does that mean she’s of no use?

Not only that, once the queen’s term of office is complete, what happens to the handmaidens? How do they apply their training to other walks of life? Do they even want to move on to a new life, or do they prefer to stick with their former queen?

And if they do stick with the former queen, how do they incorporate things like a love life? How do they balance a life of service to one woman while being romantically involved with someone else?

As for the former queen herself, how does she transition from ruling a planet with all the challenges that brings — including an invasion — to working in an entirely different political environment like the Galactic Senate? Once she’s in this environment, does she want to stay in it or pursue other interests?

Given the clothing she needs to wear — whether as a queen or a senator — is that clothing merely meant for decoration or could it deflect a blaster bolt? If the queen or senator needs to be in more than once place at the same time, is it physically possible for her to switch with a chosen double with minimal time needed to make the change?

If you — like a good chunk of Star Wars fans — grew up watching the prequel trilogy and ever wondered who were the mysterious women who made up Padme Amidala’s retinue in The Phantom Menace, rarely leaving her side, always seeming part of the background, then E.K. Johnston’s “Queen’s Shadow” is the book for you.

“Queen’s Shadow” is set between Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, with Padme, the newly appointed senator from Naboo, and her handmaidens navigating their way through galactic politics.

Johnston takes Padme, Sabe, Dorme, Corde, Rabe, Eirtae, and other handmaidens and fleshes out their characters. Each one has a strength, whether it’s being a good shot with a blaster, an expert computer hacker, a makeup artist or something else. Some have the physical bone structure and are able to mimic Padme’s voice so well that even old family friends are fooled. Padme may have been the one elected queen or appointed senator, but she and her handmaidens operate as a team.

“Queen’s Shadow” also features Padme’s first interactions with characters like Mon Mothma, Mina Bonteri, Rush Clovis and others, so fans of The Clone Wars cartoon series will likely get something out of this book, too.

A sizable chunk of the book is spent with Padme meeting and interacting with Bail Organa of Alderaan, and anyone familiar with Star Wars knows the end result of that.

In navigating the Galactic Senate, Padme has the additional burden of being the one who helped depose Chancellor Valorum and bring on the rise of Palpatine, her fellow Nabooian. Many of her Senate colleagues naturally have an initial distrust of someone who, while so young, brought on such a change in the chamber. Consequently, she needs to work to establish allies in order to pass legislation.

Reading a Star Wars book about women and written by a woman is really amazing, particularly in the smallest of details — like the interactions between Padme and her handmaidens, or how clothing or makeup is applied — that chances are most male writers most likely would not “get” the same way.

Johnston gives the senator and her handmaidens agency, whether it be intellectual, physical or sexual. When they want something, they go after it. Like the rest of humanity, some handmaidens are portrayed straight, some bi, some gay and some you’re just not sure. That’s who they just happen to be.

The book takes the term “Handmaiden” and gives it a strength that it may never have had before. Just because they’re able to blend into the background unnoticed doesn’t mean they’re not capable of defending Padme when the situation calls for it. That said, Padme is thoroughly capable of taking care of herself when the need arises.

The handmaiden that gets the most attention is Sabe, Padme’s closest friend and the one who most often switches with Padme as queen or senator when needed.

Sabe gets to go on her own mission with Tonra, the nephew of Captain Panaka and a sergeant in the Royal Security Forces. Their budding romance is a delight to read.

One thing’s for sure: After reading this book, you’ll never watch the Prequel Trilogy — or for that matter The Clone Wars TV series with the episodes that feature Padme — the same, regardless of whether you’re a fan of those series or not.

E.K. Johnston’s “Queen’s Shadow” is now available for purchase in hardcover, digital and audiobook formats (with Cat Taber — the voice of Padme in the Clone Wars series — narrating).

#books queensshadow ekjohnston starwars disneypublishing handmaidens padme

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

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For Everything a Reason || Morgan & Mina

Morgan looks to Mina for help defending herself.

CW: brief mentions of child abuse

Mina had never really trained with anyone that wasn’t a hunter. More often than not, they were stronger and faster than her, and she almost never had an even playing field. She wasn’t allowed to fight in the water, and she wasn’t allowed to use her Fae attributes to help her. And so, she’d actually learned how to fight. She’d learned techniques that gave her advantages, even when the odds were stacked against her. Bigger opponents, stronger opponents, more deadly opponents, she’d learned ways to incopacitate with minimal damage, and she’d technically learned to kill, though that part didn’t come as naturally to her. However, Mina had never learned to train with others, especially not zombies who used to be witches. But, Mina’d also never learned to teach, but it still came to her. She figured she’d approach the situation like she was teaching Morgan a difficult equation: break down the steps, apply the techniques, and then test out the process. She’d invited Morgan to a little field not too far from her house (and from the lake), figuring they’d have plenty of privacy since the place was closed (not that it stopped her from sneaking in). She was wearing her workout gear, a tank top and jogging pants, and a hoodie over the shirt even though it was a bit too hot for it. She’d brought some sparring equipment, a few knives and guns, and a small crossbow, but she figured they’d just focus on the hand to hand. After all, Morgan had all the raw, undead might in the world. She just needed to utilize it.

Thank the stars Mina wanted to work with Morgan outside. She was still shaken by her visit at The Ring, by what had happened to Remmy, that she couldn’t bear to be doing this back in the workout room where they used to practice, or some gym that might remind her of that awful place. And besides, she probably wouldn’t be taken unawares in some old building. Last time it had been out in the woods, and she couldn’t exactly stop taking any kind of walks altogether. She got too restless, being semi to mostly conscious at all hours. She just needed to be safe. She needed something within herself to reach for. What other choices did she have?

She dropped her bag on the ground when she arrived at the spot and came straight over to give Mina a hug. She hadn’t been in a place to be very kind or inquiring with her the last time they’d met in her office. Everything was still hard, still heavy, but blessed Universe, she was glad to see her. “Thank you for doing this with me,” she said. “It’s good to see you, Mina. You sure you’re really doing okay? It’s been a rough time around here.” She realized after squeezing her that she had never touched Mina before in her changed body and that, for all she knew, it was something jarring and awful. She stepped back, her smile gone all stiff. “Sorry,” she added.

It was always a bit unexpected when people hugged Mina. Her dad wasn’t a hugger, and there weren’t many people that had come and gone from her life that wanted to touch her very much. There was one boy, when she was about 13 or 14, that had brushed against her hand and been surprised when her skin felt like skin and not like scales. He hadn’t been a warden, nor had he been particularly smart, looking back on it. However, when Morgan pulled her into a hug, maybe a little too cold and a little too tight, Mina hadn’t known how to respond. It’ was nice, though. “Ah, I mean, I’ve been alright, truly. The mime situation was incredibly--” unnerving “odd, and then there were a couple of people with eyeballs in their hands that chased me and a friend near the lake.” Were she and Skylar friends? She didn’t know what other word to use. “Other than that, though, I’ve mostly been working on school. What about you?” Mina felt a bit of the loss of contact when Morgan pulled away, but she just shook her head and smiled, hoping Morgan knew how sincere she was. “Nothing to apologize for, Morgan, really.”

Mina was just being kind about her touch, Morgan was sure. She didn’t know anyone who didn’t at least want to jump away from the cold. But then again, maybe fae were a little different. She decided to take Mina’s smile at face value--she wanted to be kind, she wanted Morgan to feel welcome and normal. As she took a step back and began to stretch, Morgan couldn’t help but notice the strange marks down Mina’s arms. They were too dark, too straight and even to be part of her skin. They looked like scars. But why were there so many? “Hey…” Morgan dropped out of her stance and nodded towards the markings with concern. “Those don’t look like ‘alright.’ Are they new or--?” Old? Something from her training, or another hunter?

Ah. Mina hadn’t even realized her arms were bare. Perhaps she was a bit too comfortable around Morgan, even knowing what the other woman was. Besides, training usually required short sleeves for more movability. Still. She finished her toe touches and rolled her shoulders before straightening up and rubbing her arms. “Oh, they’re mostly old,” she said. A lot of the ones on her arms were from defense. She’d learned to always protect her head, even at the expense of her extremities. “Training, mostly. And, really, they look worse than they are. Iron. It, ah, heals slower, kind of burns a bit when it happens.” The one where her mime had gotten her on the neck was healing much faster than normal, even though it’d felt like an iron burn, while the one across her stomach from Montgomery still looked raised and angry some days, even months later. She tugged at her ponytail a bit. “We should, ah, get to training, yes? I thought we could start with simple hand-to-hand defense?”

There was something chilling to Morgan about how easily Mina dismissed her injuries. Maybe it was like that for all children reared to be fighters. Violence was more than a possibility, but a fact. It dwelled inside them even when they weren’t engaging in some altercation. And yet...Mina was still young. How old must she have been to sustain so many ‘old’ injuries? To burn a child on purpose, to tell her it was for her own good? Morgan shivered as remnants from Deirdre’s childhood stories floated to the surface of her mind. Had it been Mina’s father, every time? Or did he ask other hunters to do it for him? “How old were you?” She asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Morgan frowned, apologetic. The training. Right.

“Yeah, hand-to-hand is good. I have a couple of weapons, but I’d like to know I can do something without one.” And there was something so distressingly fearful about carrying a knife on her. She didn’t know what it meant, if she was being prudish or precious or if she really was relinquishing something important if she gave in to that impulse. Good thing you don’t have to worry about it right now, she reminded herself. “I know about maintaining a good center of gravity and how to hold a fist, but I’m not sure about much else.” She got into position and held out an arm, fist raised, to show her.

Blinking a bit, Mina tried to remember how old she was when she’d first started her training. Her dad had waited a few years after he took her from her mother. Saved her. Her earliest memories were filled with the sounds of moving water, and then she was kind of sick for a few years as her dad figured out how to raise a kid that wasn’t human. It had been hard on both of them, but he figured it out with the help of some warden he met who told him about nixies and what they needed. That had helped a lot. Then she’d almost drowned a girl at a birthday party, and that was when her dad decided that it was time to start training. Hunter training and human training. It was too bad she’d never really been able to master controlling her shifting abilities. “I was probably about nine the first time we picked up weapons and started working with those,” she said thoughtfully. Compared to some of the hunter children she knew, she’d been a late bloomer.

Mina looked over Morgan’s stance, nodding at how she kept her center of gravity. Her fists were good, but Mina didn’t want them to get too into throwing punches. “It all looks good, but how about we focus on some things that are less about punching and more about protecting yourself? Punching’s good, but that requires you to engage with your assailant. Best not to bring a fist to a gunfight, or even a knife fight. What you want is to disarm and detain your assailant as quickly as possible, so I think that’s what we’ll go over today, if that’s alright with you.”

Nine. Stars above, she had only been nine. When Morgan was nine...well, that was another cursed year. It wasn’t a great time. But she wasn’t tending to purposely inflicted burn wounds or fearing for her mortal life. She couldn’t understand the humanity in that, the kindness in that. Mina was capable, what she said about disarming and detaining? It hadn’t even occurred to her that there were different techniques for that. “No, that sounds like a good idea,” she said quickly. “My instincts are more ‘run for the hills’ anyway right now. Only problem is I can’t really do that if I’m, you know, dying. Is this what you learned first too?”

“The most important lesson is to not die,” Mina said, laughing a little. Not the first, though. The first had been to be careful with promises and to never ask anyone for their name. The next, and vastly more important, had been not to drown anyone. “The first thing I learned, really, though, was how not to hurt other people.” She trusted Morgan, enough to allow her hand to change, the fingernails changing into claws and webbing growing between the fingers. “These hurt. The teeth, too. And nixies like to drown people. I had to learn not to do that.” She shifted her hand back, a few patches of scales still clinging to her skin. She’d been better with shifting as a child, when it’d come more naturally. Now, it was like her mind and body were at war. One wanted desperately to be human. The other liked to remind her that she’d never be one. “So, ah, could you tell me about what happened?” She hated asking, but she knew that would be the best place to start. “That way, I can try to tell you the best ways to get out of similar situations, and then we can work from there.”

Morgan gaped at Mina’s second, mermaid-like skin. She hovered her fingers over it, curious, noting the claws, how fierce she was, or had been born to be. Remembering how insecure Mina had been brought up to be, she said, “I don’t mean to stare. You’re just...kind of incredible. You’re beautiful, Mina. It doesn’t hurt to shift while you’re out of water, does it?” But..they were getting off track. Morgan needed to survive. Remmy wasn’t going to be helping her anytime soon, and even if the hunter who’d gone after her was dead, there was so, so little keeping it from happening again with someone else. Morgan swallowed, straightened up. “He came at me from behind. There was something like...like a wire noose on a rad. It just kind of...came at me. Around me…” She shivered, lifting a hand to her neck, pressing down on where it had been. “It pulled me backwards. So...how would I fix that? Or something else that...came up from behind?”

“Ah. Well. I mean, um, thank you,” Mina said a bit stiltedly. She wasn’t used to the compliments. There was nothing beautiful about being Fae. It was otherworldly and unnatural. It had been fun, when she was a child, to see other children obsessed with mermaids when she herself was even better than a monstrous, vile mermaid, but then she’d learned she wasn’t much better. “It-- it doesn't hurt, really. It’s easier to shift to the scales than shift back.” Some of the scales would probably stick around for a couple of hours, and they’d come back when she got in the water again, but Morgan’s words did make her a bit more comfortable with them being out around another person. Mina’s own hand went up to her throat. She took a calming breath, though, and remembered her training. “Alright. A wire on a rod is a bit different, but I’d treat it the same way you treat a garrote wire around the neck. Attempt to back up while putting your hand between the wire and your neck. Your hands can heal, and they aren’t as vital as your throat. Then, the goal is to twist yourself towards them.” As she spoke, she demonstrated the movements as best as she could without another person. “After, the goal would be to strike out at the groin with your fist or knee until they let go, but, since the wire is on a stick, the next course of action would be to get the rod out of their hands. When they’re incapacitated and you’re free, some might suggest killing them,” Mina said calmly. “I suggest removing yourself from the situation.”

A garrotte. Fantastic. How amazingly 18th century of hunters. What next, a morning star? Morgan tried to swallow back her grimace. Of course Mina wouldn’t want to kill the hunters. She still identified, at least partially, as one of them. Truthfully, Morgan struggled to picture herself squeezing the life out of anyone. That warden she’d left in the bog had been different. She was desperate, and she’d tried everything to get them out first. It had been, well, not an accident, but not like what the hunter in the woods had done. She hadn’t set out wanting to. She had just done what she needed to make the ritual happen. Pushing the quandary away, Morgan reminded herself that running on infinite stamina would be a lot better than rewriting every instinct her mortal life had taught her. “Sure,” she said. “Sounds good. Uh…” She tried to mime the motions as Mina had showed them to her, but felt a little at a loss, grasping at air. “Can you um..let’s say you are closer to me.” She repositioned herself, bringing Mina’s up near her neck. “You’re pulling me back, so should I grip like this? And then--” she followed the rest of the instructions, up to a point. “Strike out how, exactly?”

It was easy for Mina to let herself slip back into training mode. Perhaps even easier than usual because, even though Morgan was a zombie, Mina wasn’t nearly as worried about getting hurt as she’d normally be. This was a bit like tutoring, except without the numbers. Still, there were certain algorithms that went with fighting. Once you learned the moves, the formulas, you could manipulate them to serve your purpose. It was mainly about trying not to panic when things got too intense or weren’t exactly as planned. She’d messed up plenty of training exercises because small details had been changed, when she was younger. Really, when she thought about it, most of her scars were attributed to her own foolishness. She put that thought aside, seeing as how it was a prime example of getting distracted, and put herself back in the present. “Alright, if I’m choking you with something, a wire or a belt or a piece of rope, grip it to pull it off of your neck, yes. Make sure you back up close to your assailant-- me, in this case. Now, you’re going to turn your body in towards me a bit,” she repositioned Morgan so that the older woman was turned slightly, “and strike out however you have to in order to get me off of you. Step on my feet, kick my shins, elbow me in the stomach, the thigh, the groin. Whatever it takes to get me off.”

Morgan nodded and righted herself back into position. This time she pushed against Mina’s hands with full strength and turned so quickly she was already poised to step on her toe. She came down hard and moved to elbow her in the stomach. She tried to imagine how it would be if this were real, if something clawed at her out of nowhere during a walk in the woods, or at work, in a parking lot somewhere. Would her brain be lagging behind her with second guesses? Was this hard enough, fast enough? “What do I do if it’s not enough?” She asked suddenly. “You--okay, not you, but someone, some guy, some hunter--they just catch me again.” She swallowed thickly. “What happens then? How do I not die again? Um...hypothetically-but-maybe-not speaking?” She stared hard into Mina’s eyes, uncertain but pleading all the same. She wanted to know how to hurt them back. She wanted to know how to make them stop for good, just in case.

The word “again” made sure that Mina didn’t forget what Morgan was. It reminded her that she was here, teaching a zombie how to defend herself. She should have felt guilty. Instead, she felt resigned. Her dad was wrong. Not all supernaturals were monsters. Her friend hadn’t magically changed just because she was no longer human. If it wasn’t for the lack of breathing, the coldness of her skin, Mina wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Really, she only knew because she’d been told. She couldn’t pick out a zombie on the street even if it bit her, she was sure. For better or for worse, Morgan was the same person, and Mina didn’t want her to die. Again. So she said, “Kill them.” She looked Morgan in the eyes, her tone serious. “If they’re coming at you, and they don’t give up, kill them. You’re stronger than you think, even well-fed. You’re pain receptors are practically nonexistent, which works in your favor. People don’t put as much effort into things because it hurts, but as long as you don’t get your head chopped off, you’ll heal.” She swallowed, thinking. “If you can, break their neck. They’re human. Even if they heal quickly, they’re not coming back from a broken neck.”

Morgan hadn’t expected Mina to be so blunt or sure. Weren’t the hunters her people? And what about her father? But there was nothing but certainty and understanding in Mina’s expression. The stakes were as real to her as they were to Morgan. Morgan looked down at her arms. She didn’t feel especially strong at the moment. She hadn’t had to think about herself as a weapon when she’d been alive. She hadn’t had to cultivate any skills that were just for hurting. Sure she’d melted that ass-blossom’s skin, and she’d threatened to do worse, but alchemy had been neutral. It shaped itself with intention. Morgan didn’t know what else to do with this knowledge. Was it enough to protect herself? To keep hold of what little she had. “Thank you,” she said solemnly. “Can we go again? I um...I need to get more used to this. I don’t even know how strong I am, actually. And I trust you, Mina. And I…” She wasn’t sure if Mina would take this as well as she meant, if she could see enough softness and humanity in the parts of her that were fae. “I feel like you get it. How...batshit and real and scary this all is. And I’m...used to losing everything. But not...not being able to try to stop it. I know our stories are really different, but you understand, don’t you?”

It did make Mina a little sick to talk about this. She couldn’t hurt a human, and it seemed like she was incapable of hurting supernaturals, too. After all, she was teaching one how to defend herself from the very people Mina was supposed to be a part of. But she wasn’t, not really, not all the time, and she couldn’t let someone hurt Morgan. She gave the older woman (a zombie, a zombie; she couldn’t forget she was a zombie) a nod. “We can keep going until you’re comfortable,” she said. “You might be surprised at how strong you are. And as long as you don’t suddenly have iron skin, I’ll heal from whatever. Give me your best shot.” Mina stood up a bit straighter. She did get it. How awful and scary the world was. But she’d always seen it from the other side. The supernatural were the monsters. She was even a monster, really, one of those awful, scary things. Only, now, it was getting harder to see that, even if it was true. Monsters were hard to hate when they seemed just as scared as the humans. “I understand,” she said, quietly. “You shouldn’t have to lose anymore. And now, you don’t have to. You can protect yourself. You can protect the people around you.” That’s what Mina was beginning to see that she wanted: not to just hunt, not to just take bounties at the highest bid, but to protect. And, sometimes, that meant protecting people that didn’t seem like people at a first glance. “Come on. Let’s go again.”

#for everything a reason #wickedswriting #wr mina #wr chatzy #wr mina chatzy

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Third Doctor Adventures Volume 4

Latest Review: Writer: Guy Adams, Marc Platt Director: Nicholas Briggs Featuring: Tim Treloar, Katy Manning, Rufus Hound, Mina Anwar, Joe Sims, Carolyn Pickles, Nicholas Briggs Big Finish Release (United Kingdom) Running Time: 5 hours Released by Big Finish Productions - March 2018 Order from Amazon UK Before we begin, a quick housekeeping query: is everyone sufficiently bucked up and ready for further old-school 1970s (or 1980s, depending on whom you ask) sci-fi escapades? Wonderful. Perhaps emboldened by the success of their Dalek revival in Volume 3, Big Finish isn’t skimping in the slightest on classic villains in their newest pair of Adventures for the Third Doctor. In fact, they’ve introduced not one but two returning antagonists into the fray for Volume 4 in the forms of the Meddling Monk and – for the first time ever in a Jon Pertwee-era tale, so better late than never – the Cybermen. Admittedly this reviewer took umbrage with how intent “The Conquest of Far” seemed with simply reliving Dalek glory days, rather than seeking to develop how we perceive Skaro’s finest in any notable way, last time around. Will Guy Adams and Marc Platt’s next efforts to immortalise the late Pertwee’s beloved Doctor – now revitalised via Tim Treloar’s loving aural homage – fall into the same traps, then, or can their connective thematic tissue surrounding the ever-complexifying concept of human nature elevate proceedings? “The Rise of the New Humans”: “Look, Bessie’s a lovely car Doctor, I mean a really lovely car, but have you ever thought about investing in a little roof rather than a flappy tarpaulin to keep you dry?” “Don’t you listen, old girl – she knows you’re beautiful really!” Had we ever told diehard fans of all things Doctor Who after watching the divisive “The Woman Who Lived” in 2015 that supporting star Rufus Hound would go on to resurrect a long-overlooked classic antagonist to tremendous acclaim, the best case scenario, most would have justifiably scoffed in our faces. Between his infrequent appearances in the Short Trips and Doom Coalition ranges along with the British comedian’s headline role in Volume 4’s opening tale, however, that’s all changed and the results could hardly feel more satisfying than in the case of “The Rise of the New Humans”. A whirlwind four-parter that’s by parts thought-provoking, hilarious – as if we’d expect anything less of Hound – and thrilling, “Rise” fits into the mold of the Third Doctor era perfectly, posing a fascinating metaphysical concept as human test subjects find themselves transformed into supernatural beings capable of withstanding nearly any affliction. Naturally, though, Doctor Who wouldn’t be Doctor Who without an audacious experiment gone wrong, and sure enough the side effects – not to mention the technology recklessly co-opted by the Monk to achieve his not-so-altruistic goal – quickly lead listeners and the major players alike to question the limits of science’s oft-perceived god complex. If this all sounds too grim and sombre an affair to warrant the Monk’s involvement, then rest assured that Hound alleviates any such concerns with unmistakable ease from the outset. It’s thanks to his sinister, almost sickly, charisma and brilliantly earnest haplessness in the face of just about any danger that Adams’ borderline gothic – certainly Frankenstein-esque – script never gets too bogged down in its contemplations on evolution and the increasing risks of intervention in this natural process for financial gain, with the Monk’s attempts to disguise his seemingly benevolent intentions so delightfully inept that the audience should barely mind sitting through the humour-laden first half before discovering his true ambitions. At the same time, though, Adams thankfully also realises the supreme value and drawing power that Tim Treloar and Katy Manning both hold in the eyes of the Adventures range’s fandom, peppering in a wealth of understated conversations between the pair which perfectly encapsulate their bubbly, at times teacher-student-style dynamic. Whether they’re arguing over Bessie’s temperamentality on a rain-swept road – a subtle homage to The Rocky Horror Picture Show, perhaps? – or the Doctor’s comforting Jo upon her poignant realisation that rumours of us only accessing 10% of our brain power may have been exaggerated, every exchange that the characters share could’ve been ripped straight out of a 1970s serial, with Treloar’s righteously confident and Manning’s sweetly innocent line deliveries both as completely pitch-perfect as ever. The only noteworthy misstep on the wright in question’s part, then, comes with Part 4. While by no means a deal-breaker, the final installment of “Rise” does succumb to an all-too-familiar virus plaguing myriad audio and TV Who adventures – hightailing it to the finish line and ditching any intriguing ideas laid along the way in the process. One can’t help but notice the superior running time afforded to the boxset’s second story – the individual episodes of which run for around 30-35 minutes each compared to this serial’s 20-25 – and wonder if Adams struggled to give ideas like humans struggling with their deadly mutations full due, hence the final 25 minutes descending into the usual catastrophic monster mash and retconning a hugely tantalising cliffhanger regarding Jo within moments of its occurrence. Maybe Adams simply needs to keep honing his stabs at the four-part format instead, but it’s food for thought in terms of whether he might better befit a five- or six-episode serial should he contribute another script for the recently-announced Volume 5. “The Tyrants of Logic”: “Doctor, what are they?” “Cybermen!” Reading the above lines of dialogue alone will, for many fans, surely prove a cathartic experience in and of itself. After all, despite coming into contact with Daleks, Silurians, Sea Devils, Sontarans, Ice Warriors and Autons over the course of his four-year tenure, not to mention the Master on a near-weekly basis, Jon Pertwee’s Doctor never earned himself the chance to battle arguably Doctor Who’s second most iconic monster, joining Paul McGann, John Hurt and Christopher Eccleston’s as the only such incarnations faced with this unspeakable on-screen plight. But, as Hurt’s War Doctor proclaimed in 2013’s similarly Cyber-lite 50th anniversary special “The Day of the Doctor”, no more. Setting down on an initially near-deserted human colony dubbed Burnt Salt, the now exile-free Time Lord and Jo soon discover that they’re far from alone; quite to the contrary, a nearby saloon houses a wild assortment of rogues and ex-soldiers, all of whom bear a secret inevitably doomed to surface as the Cybermen make their presence on Burnt Salt known with their destructive efforts to secure a vital hidden weapon. Prior to us proceeding any further, though, a word of warning – with its Cybermats, Cyber Wars fallout and attempted Time Lord-Cyber conversions, Marc Platt’s latest script represents a quintessential story for everyone’s favourite Mondas residents, for better and for worse. Unless this boxset somehow marks your first encounter with Who, many of the twists in “Logic” will likely seem rather familiar; from characters mistakenly willing to sacrifice their humanity to the robotic menaces escaping supposed extinction yet again, from the Doctor needing 10 minutes to alleviate his companion’s dismay at their latest foe’s near-human nature to Part 4’s predictable final duke-out, there’s nothing particularly fresh to speak of in what’s a fairly run-of-the-mill nostalgia tour. Nothing, that is, save for the continuing thematic strand surrounding what it truly means to call oneself a member of the human race. If “Rise” explores this existential concept through a metaphysical exploration of our species’ DNA being evolved to a supposed higher state, then “Tyrants” – as with many Cyber-tales, although to more emotional effect a la Spare Parts – does so by presenting members of our species on the brink of having every aspect of their personalities stripped away. Can we possibly still define someone as human when they’re clinging to any remains vestiges of their Id / ego / super-ego? Sure, it’s a line of inquiry also recently pursued by TV serials like “Asylum of the Daleks”, but without spoiling too much, Carolyn Pickles achieves wonders as her character Marian Shaeffer’s cold exterior peels back to reveal her heartbreaking motivations in this regard. Indeed, even if “Logic” doesn’t exactly break a great deal of new ground compared to a recent TV Cyber-outing like “World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls”, it’s not for want of the central and supporting cast alike doing their utmost – with director Nicholas Briggs’ support and guidance, no doubt – to provide an entertaining 2-hours of pseudo-base-under-siege action. That Treloar and Manning’s insatiably endearing chemistry injects humour and charm at every turn likely goes without saying at this point, but look out too for Briggs’ finest turn yet as the ever-hauntingly impassive invaders standing in Burnt Salt’s doorway as well as a contrastingly vulnerable performance from Deli Segal’s Skippa, another innocent bystander caught in the crossfire of a seemingly unyielding, constantly destructive conflict. The Verdict: Above all, this stellar new boxset for Treloar’s Third Doctor marks a vast improvement on Volume 3, offering a far more consistent pair of serials that seldom cease to provide gripping listening no matter your chosen venue of aural consumption. Does “Logic” still follow the roadmap presented by Cyber-tales gone by a little too rigidly at times? Sure, but its stirring explorations of warped human psyches – combined with Adams’ own study in “Rise” of our dangerous strides towards godhood of late – ensure that it’s nonetheless a far superior beast to “Conquest of Far”, particularly with Briggs taking such unnerving pride in chronicling Pertwee / Treloar’s proper first encounter with the Cybermen. This reviewer has spoken before on the matter of whether Big Finish’s abundant New Series productions – see Tales from New Earth, The Churchill Years Volume 2, Gallifrey: Time War and The Diary of River Song Series 3 in 2018’s opening quarter alone – threaten to overshadow their Classic Series output if they’re not careful. Provided that the studio keeps producing such captivating jaunts into the lives of Doctors past, though, then their listeners, stars, scribes and directors should have nothing to worry about in terms of the job security that Hartnell-McGann’s incarnations will maintain going forward. And buck down…see you next year for Volume 5 at the same Bessie-time, same Bessie-place! http://reviews.doctorwhonews.net/2018/03/third_doctor_adventures_volume_4.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#THIRD DOCTOR #BIG FINISH #{s{BFTheThirdDoctorAdventuresVolume04}}

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