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oonajaeadira · 3 years

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The Mandalorian Tarot: Major Arcana

If you’re following me, you know this is a Mandalorian obsessive account. I love the man, I love the show, I write a Mando-fando that is all about pining and touch. I tend to go all in when I have an interest.

Another one of my interests? Tarot. A friend challenged me to Mandalorify the major arcana. And because Jon and Dave know their stuff and are good with archetypes (which is all tarot really is), it was an easy fit.

YOU GOT MANDO IN MY TAROT. YOU GOT TAROT IN MY MANDO. TWO GREAT TASTES THAT TASTE GREAT TOGETHER.

But. I can’t draw, so I’ve dreamed them in words and included the Rider-Waite-Smith deck illustrations that I would riff on if I could.

READY? LET’S PLAY.

(All tarot illustrations by Pamela Colman Smith. All Mandalorian images property of Star Wars/Disney.)

UPDATE! @heathenashtattoos has taken up where I cannot and is making these cards a reality! I will post them individually and come back to link them to this post as we go.

0 THE FOOL = THE MANDALORIAN / IT IS MADE! --->

The story of the tarot is the Fool’s journey, the arc of becoming. So it makes sense to me that Din would be the fool. Fits even better, since he has tremendous Fool energy in his himbo tendencies, just rushing forward into situations without a lot of planning--he’ll deal with it when he’s in it--ready to rely on others to show him the way or guide/help him to the next step.

If I could draw: Din on the cliff, with his jetpack on, meaning he has no fear of falling. Instead of the bindle-stick the Fool carries, he’d have his pulse rifle slung over his shoulder. Instead of the dog nipping at his heels, Grogu. And, of course, the landscape would be Tatooine/Navaro-esque.

~~~

1 THE MAGICIAN = LUKE SKYWALKER , IT IS MADE! --->

The Magician is someone who is still learning to bend the laws of magic/the Universe, but very adept with their tools. Since Luke is only a few years into his Jedi training at this time, he makes a pretty good Magician.

If I could draw: Luke in his blacks, holding up his lightsaber. The Jedi symbol would replace the infinity sign.

***

2 THE HIGH PRIESTESS = AHSOKA TANO / IT IS MADE! -->

High Priestess is further along the path of her magic than Magician, and her knowledge is more intuitive, her skills more effortless. Where the Magician is still learning the balance of light and dark, the High Priestess knows the value and pitfalls of both. It was always going to be Ahsoka.

If I could draw: Ahsoka sitting cross-legged in meditation mode, but with eyes open and a knowing smile. Instead of two pillars, she holds her lightsabers up and parallel to each other.

***

3 THE EMPRESS = PELI MOTTO / IT IS MADE! -->

The Empress is the mother figure, the energy in the universe that provides all that is needed and embodies the energy of creation. I can see the argument for Omera being the Empress--mostly because she is a mom and she’s soft and a lot of people see the Empress as a soft female figure, I get it. (And if I were to do a minor arcana, girl would show up as one of the Queens for sure.) But in the end, I gave it to Peli because she’s a recurring character, more relevant in his story, and if Din is the Fool, Peli is more an Empress to him. She’s able to be the provider of his particular needs; services to his ship to get him up flying, contact and location information, and she’s always willing to care for Grogu whenever she gets the chance.

If I could draw: Peli sitting in the dock, against the R4 unit, holding aloft a spanner and surrounded by her pit droids.

***

4 THE EMPEROR = BOBA FETT / IT IS MADE! -->

The Emperor is all about authority. And all I gotta say about Boba is BIG DICK ENERGY.

If I could draw: Just put him on the Jabba throne and let him lounge like a badass.

~~~

5 THE HIEROPHANT = THE ARMORER / IT IS MADE! -->

The Hierophant is the keeper of traditions and a spiritual guide. As the leader of the covert and keeper of the Way, The Armorer fits.

If I could draw: The Armorer, framed by her forge, holding aloft her tools, with Mandalorian acolytes. Instead of the crossed keys at the bottom, let’s just have a mythosaur skull.

***

6 THE LOVERS = FROG LADY AND FROG HUSBAND

This should be obvious and I will fight anyone who says it isn’t the right thing to do. I will die for this.

If I could draw: I would actually depart from the Smith depiction and just draw them embracing or holding each other by the arms and staring into each others’ eyes. Some kind of glowing background? Maybe the egg tank?

***

7 THE CHARIOT = THE MUDHORN

Oh. You thought I was going to say the Razor Crest, didn’t you. Don’t worry, I have plans for our beloved craft, but it ain’t here. The Chariot can be a ride, yes, but it’s about victory. Sometimes it’s about the victory over your inner “beastly” natures. To travel to the next phase in the journey, the Fool must take on the beasts that drive the Chariot and claim dominance over them, and when he does, they will carry him to the next level. Since it’s the victory of the beastly mudhorn that brings Din to his bond with Grogu and becomes his signet, Mudhorn for the win.

If I could draw: Again, I’d probably play on Smith’s imagery, put the charging mudhorn in the middle, and replace the rams with Din on his knees brandishing the vibroblade and Grogu in his pram with his Force hand up.

***

8 STRENGTH = CARA DUNE

Don’t come at me about including Cara. I am glad Gina got shown the door and I lose no love on that bigot. But. Cara is not Gina and to cut her out is to cut out Jon and Dave’s creation and I won’t do it. I actually love her a lot--she’s got her flaws, but she’s sassy and strong and solid, and I would happily accept a piggyback ride from her any day. She’s also a major player in Din’s story and deserves a spot in it. Strength comes after the Chariot--once you’ve conquered the beast within, you have confident dominion over it and it becomes a companion or a tool for your use. Cara is one with her toughness, she’s used it to do some good and bad shit in her past, and she continues to wield it effortlessly and fearlessly. She is absolutely this card.

If I could draw: I would put her maybe sitting on top of the downed ATST. I’d replace the infinity symbol over her head with the one on her cheek (Rebel Alliance).

~~~

9 THE HERMIT = KUIIL

The Hermit is a loner, yes, but in his solitude he looks within, learns from all he’s been through, and becomes wise. He holds aloft a light of wisdom and truth. This was always going to be Kuiil.

If I could drawn: Just our buddy, looking out over the Arvala-7 landscape, holding aloft an in-universe working lamp. No need to get fancy. He would want it to stay simple.

***

10 THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE = IMPERIAL SYMBOL AND STORM TROOPERS

The Wheel is fate. You win some, you lose some. Sometimes you’re on top, and sometimes the Wheel crushes you beneath it. You are helpless to its roll and where you’ll land. Storm Troopers are such a sad bunch. They are keepers of Imperial Law on the ground. On a good day, they capture a Rebel or hold off an attack. On a bad day, their Moff just blasts them to make an example.

If I could draw: The wheel would just be the Imperial symbol and there’d be Troopers on and under it. Maybe the one on top is just standing there, looking authoritative. The one underneath has been blasted. Some Wheels have two more figures--one on each side--and I’d add those too. The one on the down-going side would be falling, arms flailing, blaster shooting (if only sound were available, there’d be a Whilhelm scream), and the one on the up-going side would just be dangling by one arm, along for the ride.

***

11 JUSTICE = COBB VANTH

Well, it just feels right to make the Marshal into Justice. But it’s not just a literal translation of making sure the right thing gets done and the bad guys are punished. Justice is about wiping away emotion and making decisions with bare truth, looking at every side of the situation and understanding what is really there. And I think Cobb fits this well. He doesn’t want to give up his armor because of what it means for the protection of his people. But he’s willing to consider it, if there’s another way he can protect them. Emotionally, he doesn’t want to deal with the Tusken Raiders, but he does it because he can see it’s the best course of action. He flies into battle with the Krayt Dragon. He gives up his armor without a fight. He makes a fair trade and sees the balance in it because he walks away from the emotion and chooses the best course of action. Cobb Vanth for Justice, errybody.

If I could draw: Cobb in the Fett armor, but with the helmet at his feet. In one hand, a bottle of spotchka. In the other, the Tusken mushroom drinky thing; he’s holding them with equal balance.

***

12 THE HANGED MAN = MIGS MAYFELD

The Hanged Man is not just about a dude who’s hanging upside down. (If that was the case, I would have just gone with Gor Koresh and called it a day.) Hanged Man is about changing your perspective to see things in a new way so you can grow. Many times, this growth also requires sacrifice. Over the two episodes we see Mayfeld, we know he goes from Imperial sharp shooter, to traumatized deserter, to merc, prisoner, and exonerated friend. He’s seen some shit, given up a lot, and he’s willing to see how he can be a help to others and find redemption for himself.

If I could draw: Hear me out. Take the image of Mayfeld hanging upside down from the Crest hatch into the prison ship. Mirror that above with an image of him in his Imperial Ground Transport gear. Flip it all upside down so bad Mayfeld up top, good Mayfeld on bottom, images mirrored but inverted, hence “looking at things a new way and getting everything a little topsy-turvey.”

~~~

13 DEATH = MOFF GIDEON

Death is about transformation, so it’s not always the most sinister card. But Death does not discriminate. It comes for us all, constantly stalking, and it will strike you down to serve its needs. You need to face Death to get to your redemption. But really, Gideon is our big baddie here, so why the hell not.

If I could draw: I would forgo the Smith illustration and go for the Marseilles tradition on this one. Gideon and the Darksaber replaces Death and the scythe.

***

14 TEMPERANCE = IG-11

Temperance is the transformation that comes after Death. Once Death has chopped your physical being into pieces with his scythe, Temperance is there to take all your pieces and put them back together into something new and better. It’s also a card that asks you to re-evaluate your priorities and see if you can find better motivations than you previously had. IG’s death and reprogramming speak loudly to me on this.

If I could draw: IG pouring the tea.

***

15 THE DEVIL = THE CLIENT

Here’s another baddie card that’s all about your worst faults, about excess and giving into the stuff that will eventually kill your soul. The Client holds on hard to the Empire, doing whatever he’s ordered to do to be one of the top dogs. And in the end, it doesn’t matter. Gideon takes him down like he’s nothing.

If I could draw: The client, wearing his Empire bling, with chains around Doctor Pershing and a rough-looking Storm Trooper.

***

16 THE TOWER = THE RAZOR CREST

I don’t know about you, but Chapter 14 killed me. And not because the Dark Troopers flew away with Grogu. We all knew Din would never stop at getting him back. But when the Crest was destroyed, it was like someone punched me in the soft parts, and I made a lot of severely anguished noises. The Tower is the most tragic card in the tarot. It’s when forces beyond your control make a very big (and usually negative) impact in your life and everything changes. You are left to pick up the pieces and survive any way you can with the skills and resources you’ve been blessed with.

If I could draw: Just that moment of the ray hitting our beautiful Crest, just as it begins to break apart, maybe with Din, Boba, and Fennec watching in horror in the foreground.

~~~

17 THE STAR = GROGU

The Star is hope. It comes after the biggest tragedy in the deck to tell you that not all is lost. There is always something there to live for. C’mon, kids. In this series, there was only one choice.

If I could draw: Just Grogu. Maybe drinking his soup. Or maybe he’s levitating his metal ball overhead, reaching up to it with a smile on his face. *coos*

***

18 THE MOON = BO KATAN KRYZE

We all like Bo Katan, sure. But remember my Clone Wars/Rebels fiends, she was Death Watch, and they were terrorists. She sided with Maul to take over Mandalore. Sure, she’s come a long way and her path is a bit more honorable now, but she’s got an agenda, which makes her hard to trust. Since the Moon is about more feminine energies and has themes of illusion and deception--things look great in the moonlight, but maybe not as they really are--Bo Katan’s our girl.

If I could draw: Head and shoulders profile, double-imaged so you see her face, but her Nite Owl helmet superimposed in profile over it. Nite Owl signet on the bottom. Possibly flanked by her two Nite Owl cronies.

***

19 THE SUN = GREEF KARGA

Everything's sunny when Greef’s around! He’s the feel-good gramps that’s going to make any situation A-Ok! If you’ve got a problem, Greef can sort it out...or he knows someone who can! The sun is always gonna shine on you and take you back.

If I could draw: Just Greef smiling and being cheesy with the halo of the sun around him.

***

20 JUDGEMENT = FENNEC SHAND

This card traditionally shows the resurrected rising from the grave, ready to be judged. Fennec’s got a lot to answer for in her life, but she is being given a second chance, and my number one girl crush is going to do new and wonderful badass things with it.

If I could draw: I’d either just show her opening her gut pocket to show her new works, all full of aura, with her looking down at it reverently. OR I might do a scene of her being rescued by Boba.

~~~

21 THE WORLD = THE HELMET

Din’s helmet is the world he lives in. But it’s also a symbol of The Way. The World represents completion, a wholeness of self and being, the end of the journey. And since Din is our Fool, his journey is an exploration of his morals and honor, what it means to walk the way of the Mandalore, and what the meaning of the helmet is for him. He may choose ultimately to keep it on and go all-in on Mandalorian-4-lyfe (Child of the Watch style), or he may understand that the helmet is just a symbol and the honor was in him all along; he can wear it or not wear it and it’s all the same.

If I could draw: The World usually depicts a circle or sphere of some kind, the symbol of perfect completion. The helmet is close enough, so it takes up the center. Traditionally, there are four symbols in the corners that give more meaning to The World, and I would replace them with The Razor Crest, Grogu, the Mudhorn Signet, and the pulse rifle or blaster. These represent his home, his foundling, his clan, and his religion, all of which make up more of the whole; what it means to him to be Mandalorian.

~~~~~~~~~~

Challenge accepted and faced.

Adira dops her witchy mic….

#the mandalorian #mandalorian #tarot #mandalorian tarot #star wars #din djarin #luke skywalker #ahsoka tano #grogu #bo katan hate gang

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dragonnan · 3 years

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This is faaaar from a complete list and will be spotty at best but I’ve been pondering MCU characters a lot as I’ve been getting slowly back to work on my mega-fic. I LOVE minor head canons. Simple stuff like favorite foods or what music they listen to or were they ever a smoker or whatever whatever. So I’m gonna give myself the challenge of crafting some head canon and anyone else is very welcome to dive in! (some things are already established via canon)

~ Ethnicity ~ Faith ~ Smoker ~ Alcohol ~ Favorite food ~ Favorite cookie ~ Favorite animal(s) ~ Favorite music ~

Tony Stark: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American-Jewish (he refers to himself as a “mutt”) Faith: “No thanks” being the initial answer but if he feels like opening up he’ll admit to believing there’s likely “something” out there but at the same time figures that “something” stopped caring about humanity a long long time ago. Smoker? Never liked cigarettes but smoked a few cigars when he was younger due to Obie’s influence. He never was a big fan but wanted to fit in with his mentor. Alcohol: Influenced both by his father and Obie, Tony started drinking hard liquor semi-regularly as young as 14 (his Dad let him try his first sip at the age of 6). He pretty much sticks with Scotch or Bourbon but is not opposed to cheap beer at a ball game. In fact the cheaper the better - a requirement for any self-respecting American. Favorite food: hot dogs. Neither one of his parents cooked. Breakfast and lunch were whatever whenever for all three of them but dinner? You better be sure you were at that table before the plates were set down or you could go without (and Tony got a slap from his father when he’d observed that rule only seemed to apply to him). But on the nights he was sent to his room, Jarvis would slip upstairs, later, with a sandwich or, on really rough nights, a couple of hotdogs. Favorite cookie: Those Christmas wreath ones made with cereal and marshmallow with the cinnamon candies. Favorite animal(s): he likes all animals but if he had to pick one for a pet he’d get an iguana. Favorite music: well duh lolol.

Stephen Strange: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American (borrowed from Benedict Cumberbatch’s ethnicity and adding the American) Faith: Originally atheist but now closer to Buddhist. Smoker: Never. Even prior to becoming a sorcerer he has always been conscious of what he takes into his body; especially given the history of cancer on his mother’s side of the family. Alcohol: Wine, occasionally, though he isn’t really a social drinker per-say. Favorite food: The spicy shrimp and pork dumplings from a Thai place in Midtown. Favorite cookie: Hmmm.... not a big sweets guy but he won’t turn away a few ginger-pecan cookies with coffee. Favorite animal(s): dogs - unequivocally. He had a border collie growing up on his family farm in Nebraska. Favorite music: please don’t make this poor man actually have to choose.

Steve Rogers: Ethnicity: Irish (as per comics) Faith? Irish-Catholic (as per the comics). Smoker? Prior to the serum there was no way he could safely do so with his health issues. After he started traveling with the performers all of the girls in the group smoked and he tried it out a few times but never developed a taste for it. Alcohol: he drank A LOT - easy enough to do as it never had any real effect on him. He enjoys scotch and bourbon (a taste he picked up from hanging around Howard Stark). Steve seems to low-key always have the munchies (like most enhanced) and once Tony picked up on that there are always a variety of snacks scattered here and there throughout the compound (also of benefit for Bruce, Peter, Thor, and, later, Bucky). Steve’s favorite foods typically remind him of his mother’s cooking. While they’d never had much (especially after his father died) his mom could do a lot with limited supplies. She used to make a fantastic meat pie with ground beef or tongue. He hates SPAM. They ate it in the Army, constantly, and just the smell will occasionally send him back to those days and not in a good way. Favorite cookie? Oreos. He can clean up a family sized pack in like 10 minutes. Steve loves animals but is especially fond of horses and dogs. There was a dog in his unit in WW2 and Steve, like most of the other men, would share bites of his rations with it. Steve is nostalgic about music from the 40s but finds that 70s rock really resonates with him.

Bucky Barnes: Ethnicity: Romanian-American (borrowing a little from Sebastian Stan’s ethnicity) Faith? Possibly agnostic. Smoker? Heck yes - both cigarettes and cigars. Like Steve, the serum he received (via Hydra’s experimentation) means he gets to dodge the detrimental side effects of smoking. Alcohol: He likes to drink but is almost exclusively a beer drinker. He has a big appetite but refuses to eat around others if he can at all help it. His favorite food is corned beef with cabbage. Steve’s grandmother was an Irish immigrant and would make it every Sunday before the war impacted rations. Since both Bucky’s parents were dead he’d often have dinner with his best friend. Also, unlike Steve, he actually likes SPAM. But then, arguably, he isn’t terribly picky about food in general. Favorite cookie: molasses. Favorite animal(s): birds - eagles in particular - though he doesn’t look too deeply at the psychology of their ability to just fly away. Needless to say a crafty observer might spot a former Winter Soldier tossing seeds towards the pigeons. Favorite music: He’s pretty eclectic though he shies away from anything too loud like death metal. He finds classical very soothing.

Peter Parker: Ethnicity: Mixed American-Scandinavian-German-ish Faith: Protestant upbringing but unsure where he currently stands. If pressed he’d say he’s “leaving his options open” Smoker? “Oh gross!” Alcohol: “Um, too young to drink, thanks! But if I WERE to... you know, try it just to taste it there was this mudslide at one of Flash’s parties that was super good...” Favorite food: spaghetti and meatballs. Lots of meatballs. Favorite cookie: chocolate chocolate chip with chunks. Favorite animal(s): NOT spiders. And NOT birds given how many rooftops he’s traversed layered in pigeon ick. He’d probably say cats. Favorite music: The B side of techno rock - especially Depeche Mode.

Peter Quill: Ethnicity: Half mixed American and half celestial. Faith: His Dad was a god and he killed him so he figures he probably isn’t on the best terms with the Big G God should He... or She... or Them... be out there. Look he just wants to do his thing and cause a little trouble without mixing it up with any other celestial types but if they DO wanna throw down he’d like to point out that he’s 1 for 1 and willing to rumble. Smoker: He would not say no to a really good cigar and may have possibly lifted a case from Yondu’s stash when he struck out on his own. Alcohol: Anywhere any time and in large quantities. Favorite food: A thick steakhouse bacon burger with potato chips right on the patty. Extra cheese please! Favorite cookie: He’s a simple guy with simple tastes. classic chocolate chip no frills no fuss and fresh from the oven. Favorite animal(s): He likes dogs - who doesn’t like dogs? But he really likes cows. Just maybe don’t mention the burger thing. Favorite music:

Thor: He’s a Norse god of legend so I figure we can forego the ethnicity/faith questions lol. Smoker: He has never understood this human custom nor has he felt any inclination to try it himself Alcohol: Beer, mead, and anything capable of knocking him on his ass. Favorite food: chili with ghost peppers. Though nowhere near as hot as the fire chilies of Muspelheim (which would be instantly fatal for humans so its just as well). Favorite cookie: strawberry cheesecake with macadamia nuts. Favorite animal(s): It’s a tossup between bilgesnipe and whales. Favorite music: The mighty horns of battle! He also enjoys old school country, much to Tony’s disgust. The story aspect of that music is what appeals to him.

Bruce Banner: Ethnicity: Italian-American Faith: Catholic in his childhood; currently Atheist or maybe agnostic. Smoker: He tends to avoid any substances for, you know, obvious reasons. Alcohol: See previous. Favorite food: Waffles with sliced mango. Favorite cookie: Oatmeal. Favorite animal(s): Mantis shrimp - “did you know they can generate so much power in their attacks that they can briefly super-heat the water up to 7,700 °C??” Favorite music: Indian- especially Krishna Bhajan.

Clint Barton: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American and Panamanian. Faith: His parents were both Protestant but he’s never latched on to any specific faith and hasn’t really devoted a lot of thought on the matter. He has a sorta loose idea of “maybe something out there” but that’s all the further he’s gotten on the subject. What he tells anyone who asks it’s that his religion is coffee. Smoker: Briefly when he was a teen. Alcohol: Beer - he’s a fan of dark lager. Favorite food: Coney Island dogs, Pizza, and pickle flavored potato chips. Favorite cookie: Monster cookies with the mini M&Ms. Favorite animal(s): Dogs Favorite music: 80s rock and some country.

Natasha Romanoff: Ethnicity: Russian. Faith: She was not given much choice when younger and was raised as “state atheist” (per comics). In the years since escaping that life, however, she has tried to discover more about herself. Her parents were both Russian Jewish and there has been a pull to discover more about that faith - especially since meeting Wanda - who is Jewish. Smoker: No. Alcohol: Some vodka - that’s a given. But she actually prefers wine; and honestly her favorites are wine spritzers. Favorite food: Favorite cookie: Krumkake filled with creme and berries. Favorite animal(s): Favorite music: Overall she listens to a pile of little-known bands and whomever is playing at whatever bar in whatever city she happens to be in. She also is a huge fan of old school Spice Girls.

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elyvorg · 4 years

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Still a Hero - author’s commentary (part 2)

I spent almost all my time for two months planning and writing this fic of mine centred around Kaito’s issues, and that amount of thinking-about-something doesn’t just go away once the thing is finished. This is the second of two posts (the first being here) giving a kind of author’s commentary on the fic. For this one, I’ll be (mostly) taking off my Kaito-analyst hat and putting on my author hat, talking about the writing process and how I came up with the ideas for each chapter given how I knew Kaito’s character arc needed to go.

I say I spent two months “planning and writing” this fic, because the first month of that really was all planning. At first this was figuring out the broad strokes of how Kaito’s character arc should work, while also entirely separately imagining him going through various different kinds of torture that seemed like fun. Then I began to slot these torture methods that I’d already decided I liked the idea of into whichever points in his character arc they fit best for, resulting in me beginning to get a coherent set of scenes together.

As my ideas for the story solidified more in my head and grew more elaborate, I began to get them down on paper (well, virtual paper) to help me keep it all straight. I could remember the broad strokes of each scene well enough, but smaller details of ideas I had for the little things Kaito would be doing to indicate his mental state at any point were nice to get down. That way, I didn’t have to try and keep all of that in my head at once and inevitably forget a whole bunch of it when I started actually writing and was using most of my headspace on coming up with good prose. I could craft the progression of Kaito’s mental deterioration more carefully like this, rather than just winging it as I went along, which I think helped a lot considering that said progression was so vital to get right.

Plus, it was nice to be able to have a phase to the writing process where I didn’t let myself worry about wording and just got down all my raw ideas for the… okay, look, I’d call them “beats” of the story, and also possibly use the term “blow-by-blow” to describe how detailed this plan was, but in this particular context those words can be taken very literally. It wasn’t quite that literal. You know what I mean. And that way, when I actually was doing proper prose writing, it was easier to get started in each writing session (something I often have problems with), since the idea for what needs to happen next is already there and all I need to do is think of a good way to word it. Splitting the writing process into separate idea-splurging and prose-writing periods is a really productive way of doing it, at least for how my mind works, and I’ll probably do it again whenever I next write a fic.

While the plan was so detailed that I probably could have done the actual writing in a haphazard order, jumping all over the place just like I did while doing the plan, I wrote everything linearly from the beginning (with one exception that I’ll mention later). It still helped me be able to keep myself in the right headspace for Kaito’s mental deterioration to have gone through that progression with him, at least while actually writing it. Especially since Kaito’s mindset did still do a few unexpected things that I hadn’t quite anticipated in the plan.

Also, geez, did you notice how I called the chapters “scenes” up there? Yeah, once upon a time I thought this’d just be a longish one-shot fic, so in my head, they were scenes and not chapters for a good while. I did not realise quite how long things would turn out. Which is perhaps a good thing, since if I’d known that this would end up 64 freaking pages long, maybe that’d have made me think twice about actually writing it. And I’m really glad I actually wrote this.

The realisation that this was being so ridiculously long that it really needed to be chaptered happened some way into chapter 6, which at least meant that I got to come up with all the chapter titles all at once. I had fun making them all work together; I knew chapter 6 shouldn’t be titled anything but “Hero”, so I made the rest all fit around that to describe the hero. Kaito is a Vulnerable posturing helpless unimportant losing deluded HERO With Friends; the capitalisation or lack thereof is very deliberately meaningful. The non-capitalised titles are meant to give a sense that Kaito is sort of subconsciously beginning to feel these things are true about him by the end of each respective chapter while not wanting to admit it, and then the all-caps “HERO” is him shouting down those self-deprecating intrusive thoughts once he realises he really is a hero after all. The “Vulnerable” is capitalised not because it’s the beginning of a sentence, since “With Friends” is, too, but rather because those two are the only descriptors being applied to the “hero” that are actually true about Kaito. Really, he’s just a vulnerable hero with friends, which is something I think we can all agree on.

Now to go chapter-by-chapter for some more specific thoughts about my ideas behind each one.

Chapter 0

This chapter isn’t strictly necessary since it’s not part of Kaito’s character arc, but I felt it’d be useful to include to help establish the stakes, in terms of why it makes sense that Kaito needs to hold on for quite a while to protect his sidekicks from being killed, and yet his sidekicks can also be the ones to come and save him without being killed once enough time has passed. (I really love how my cult-takedown AU just naturally lent itself to me getting the best of both worlds here. I didn’t think of the torture scenario until after solidifying this AU in my head, so this was just a lucky coincidence.)

It was also nice to get Shuichi and Maki’s perspective on things to help establish the basic principles of the fic that it’s going to take Kaito six chapters of torture to figure out himself. Is Kaito invincible? Of course not. If he’s not, does that mean he can’t protect his sidekicks? Of course not. I figured it might help readers who aren’t familiar with all of my analysis about Kaito’s hero issues to be given a sense that that’s the angle I’m taking here.

Plus it was neat to show Shuichi and Maki both having their own much faster shift in perspective on this. Shuichi would have answered yes to that first question and Maki to the second question before this scene happened. But they each had one piece of the puzzle from the beginning, which is more than can be said for Kaito.

Not that they knew how much of an idiot Kaito was about this, mind you. They assumed he was perfectly healthily aware of these concepts himself, because they had no reason to believe he wouldn’t be. They knew he’d be suffering, but it didn’t even cross their minds that the worst part of it for him would be the near-destruction of his self-esteem. In chapter 7, when Shuichi hears Kaito say “I didn’t let you down,” and “I’m still a hero,” he’s bewildered and concerned by the implication that Kaito had ever thought those things might not be true. (It’s okay, though; Kaito will be willing to actually talk about it to them at some point during his recovery, so they’ll come to understand.)

This is chapter 0 and not chapter 1 because it felt right to have the real “start” of the fic be with Kaito himself. This fic is after all entirely about his character arc, and the Shuichi and Maki bit is more just a bonus. Unfortunately, AO3 apparently cannot comprehend the concept of prologues (I don’t understand why they’ve never accounted for this; prologues are a perfectly common thing in fic-writing as far as I’m aware), so this makes the chapter numbering kind of awkward on there. I could have just thrown up my hands and accepted the numbers AO3 wanted to give my chapters, but no, screw that, I spent two months thinking of the chapters by my numbers and I refuse to stop doing that just because some silly website hasn’t heard of the number zero.

(If anyone knows how to get this to work properly on AO3, please tell me. I did try manually messing with the “chapter number” field in the chapter-submission page, but that ended up screwing up the order in which the chapters were displayed, which, nope, that’s even worse.)

Chapter 1

I chose a relatively straightforward torture method to start things off with, because this scene was less about pushing Kaito’s mental deterioration and more about just establishing the baseline of his stubborn posturing and insistence that he’s an invincible hero in its purest form before there begin to be many cracks in it. That said, there’s still some psychological stuff getting to Kaito a bit here, aside from the generally terrifying (nope, not terrifying at all, what are you talking about, Kaito is a hero) realisation that he’s about to be tortured.

It may seem like an odd choice that I let Kaito wake up unrestrained, and I must admit that the idea of him waking up and panicking as he finds himself already tied up did seem fun in some ways. But it was very on purpose that I left him free to start out with, because that gave Kaito the sense that he should have been able to escape and not let any of this happen at all. If only he’d been stronger and more of an action hero, he totally could have taken out all five cultists and made a break for it, couldn’t he? Not managing to do that is Kaito’s first small sign in here that he’s not that good of a hero, actually. Sure, he knows that he’s massively outnumbered and the chances were really slim, so he’s not really that consciously upset with himself about it, but the subconscious sense of failure is still there. If he’d been tied up from the start, there’d have been none of that, and it’d have been much more obvious that it’s not his fault and he simply couldn’t do anything.

The kickings were also very much a part of this. Those aren’t a proper structured part of the torture, the kind of thing Kaito can basically expect from this situation; they’re just casual cruelty from his captors, hurting him not even because they need to but simply because they can. The first one wasn’t quite so bad because at the time Kaito felt like it was a retaliation to his attempt to escape, as if he was just paying the natural price for his recklessness not succeeding. But the second one, which came out of nowhere just to make a point, really drove home the horrible sense that they can do anything they want to him in here and there is nothing he can do to stop it. It’s not like these kickings physically hurt any more than the upcoming beating was going to, but they got under Kaito’s skin a lot more than the beating did, and far more than he’d ever admit this early on. (Though he does finally briefly allude to it in the depths of chapter 6.)

Like I said in part 1 of this, I was on a mission to make Kaito feel helpless in every way I could think of. He’s not really consciously thinking about it or tearing himself down that much yet, but this is already beginning to wear at him beneath the surface.

Chapter 2

Somewhat inspired by some articles I’d read about the phenomenon of learned helplessness (hence me referencing that in this chapter), I had the basic idea of some kind of restraints that inflict more pain on the captive the harder they struggle to escape from them, with the intent of eventually making them give up trying. Put Kaito in something like that and he would absolutely stubbornly torture himself with it for hours without his captors even having to lift a finger. I just had to; it was too perfect for the kind of person he is, and so good for creating the first big dent in his confidence when he fails to escape it and inevitably starts to feel more and more hesitant to even try.

I was originally envisaging it taking two or three “rest” chapters of Kaito fully throwing himself at this contraption and getting noticeably more tired and hesitant to do so each time until he gives up. But as I streamlined the plan (in an attempt to not make this any more ridiculously drawn-out or repetitive than it needed to be), this got cut down to basically just this chapter, with him barely even trying at all in chapter 4.

Good thing, then, that Kaito is so counterproductively overly-stubborn that it really only did take one spectacularly self-destructive session for him to be traumatised enough to never want to do that to himself again. (And, again, that’s less from just the pain alone – this probably didn’t hurt any significantly more than the beatings before or after it – and more from the horrible sense of helplessness it gave him along with that.) If he’d been more accepting of the idea that this is obviously going to take him a while and he needed to pace himself, maybe this would have needed multiple sessions to wear him down into giving up.

But nope, no way Kaito’s going to accept any kind of compromise like that. It’s never going to occur to him that stopping before he reaches his limit rather than pushing himself way too far past it, or, god forbid, not even taking the bait at all, is by far the better option. A more sensible person would be able to see that that’s strategically saving his strength for when he knows he’s going to need it, and it’s not even giving up when he knows his sidekicks are coming for him in the end. But Kaito’s definition of a hero can’t afford to do any of those things. Heroes have unlimited strength, and they certainly don’t need anyone else to save them.

Kaito feeling this way about this is just putting himself in a horrendous lose-lose situation: even if he somehow happened to choose not to torture himself pointlessly (or rather, when he does that in chapter 4), he’ll instead be taking the psychological hit of feeling like he’s lost. There is no winning here, not if you’re Kaito. Which, again, is why a contraption like this was perfect and I just had to do this to him.

Shout-outs to a scene in the Breaking Bad movie El Camino for inspiring this contraption, by the way – I edited it significantly to better suit my purposes, but that gave me a foundation to start from. I liked this idea more than just some sort of basic electroshock-triggered-by-pulling-against-chains mechanism that I’d been vaguely envisaging at first, because being physically dragged across the floor gives far more of that visceral sense of helplessness that I needed to inflict so much of on Kaito.

…And, uh, thankfully, it also made sense that the child-slave assassin cult might already have a contraption like this for other reasons, because it would have been a bit much to buy that they built something that elaborate just for Kaito. My original plan for this scene mentioned the device being used on the kids but otherwise didn’t have that big of a focus on Kaito initially trying to escape it on their behalf – he was mostly supposed to throw himself into it on his own behalf. I guess I just hadn’t properly thought about that enough during planning, since the kids weren’t the reason I created the contraption. Thankfully, when I was actually writing the scene, my mental simulation of Kaito became exactly as horrified and furious about what’d been done to those kids as Kaito should, and I let him run with that, because that was far more fun and far more Kaito than him only really thinking about himself.

(This never happened to Maki in particular, though. The fact that she “willingly” volunteered herself meant she was never desperate enough to escape that they needed to do this to her.)

Chapter 3

At one point while brainstorming possible ideas, I was hit with the thought of Kaito finding out that his lead torturer was the same person who trained and tortured Maki. I had some fun imagining Kaito’s reaction to that and a hypothetical back-and-forth exchange between him and the torturer about the awful things he’d put Maki through. Except then I realised that having this conversation, fiercely standing up for Maki and calling out her abuser’s awfulness, was giving Kaito way too much emotional strength – and as fun as that was, I couldn’t let him have that, not when I was trying to erode that emotional strength of his as fast as possible.

So then it occurred to me: maybe his torturer could also realise that having this hero-versus-villain confrontation would give Kaito strength, and so he deliberately completely blanks Kaito’s attempts at this, entirely refusing to engage with him and give him what he wants. That’d deflate the strength Kaito was trying to get from it and result in him feeling even more powerless and useless, excellent!

This incidentally meant that Kaito needed to realise that his torturer was Maki’s trainer by chance, without the torturer actually being the one to bring it up and tell him. This was when I realised that I’d need to give this guy a name, even if it was just an alias. It needed to be a Japanese name, and I’m not familiar enough with Japanese names to be comfortable just picking a random surname in case it had a meaning or connotation that didn’t fit at all. Therefore, I figured (especially since it’s an alias and not his real name), screw it, why not deliberately make it meaningful – and the best way I could think to do that was through the kabuki theme.

I’d already looked into the significance of the kabuki pattern on Kaito’s shirt and the meaning of red (hero) versus blue (villain) a while back, upon realising thanks to this post that that was why that pattern was there. I could not believe that I’d been fixating on Kaito for like a year and a half at the time while being completely unaware of such a delightful detail about his character design – so I guess I wanted to make up for lost time or something by making such a point of it in this fic. That’s why I went and had Kaito’s torturers be thematically-conveniently wearing kabuki-villain-makeup masks to contrast his shirt, giving Kaito an extra excuse to think of this as an overly-simplistic Hero Versus Villain thing that he is therefore totally going to win because heroes always do.

So in order to come up with a name for the “villain” here, I looked into that a bit more. I spent a while looking up famous kabuki plays on Wikipedia, and after a false start in which I was looking at totally the wrong style of kabuki theatre – turns out it’s only a certain style that even uses that makeup – I found a famous play in the overexaggerated-makeup-style called “Shibaraku!”, which turned out to be hilariously appropriate. The hero of the play is apparently the “stereotypical bombastic hero” of kabuki theatre, who shows up in the nick of time to stop a prince and a princess from being wrongfully executed (cough cough, he’s saving two people, a guy and a girl, from an undeserved certain death, how very fitting). He monologues lengthily about his supernatural powers that he just randomly has because of course he’s that cool, proves that the villain has unlawfully usurped the throne and gets him to back down just by using words, and then there’s a gratuitous fight scene at the end in which he effortlessly takes out all the villain’s henchmen anyway, solely to show off his awesome superpowers. I absolutely could not with how perfect a match this was to the kind of over-the-top invincible hero Kaito thinks he needs to be, and so I just had to name Takehira after the villain from that play.

And ultimately, the fact that I’d given him a name that Kaito could think of him by for the rest of the fic meant that this was kind of the point at which Takehira started to take shape in my head as an actual character, rather than just an empty placeholder inflicting this torture on Kaito because someone had to do it. I think that was definitely a good thing for the fic… though I can’t believe that as a result I now technically have a Danganronpa OC who is a manipulative child-torturing asshole. How. How did it come to this.

The actual torture method for this chapter wasn’t inspired by anything in particular; I just used my imagination to add some variations to the regular beating that’d give Kaito more of that all-important visceral sense of helplessness. Again, this was conveniently something the cult might be used to doing, since it happened to fit Maki’s description of what’d been done to her quite well. I guess I also now have a very weirdly specific headcanon of exactly what Maki is talking about in her third FTE.

Chapters 1 and 3 both fade to black in the middle of the torture sessions, and then the next chapters cut back in once it’s over and Kaito’s resting. This was mostly just a decision I made early on out of what was essentially writerly laziness. I knew things were going to go on for long enough that it wasn’t remotely reasonable to cover all of it directly, but my writing style focuses so much on just writing things directly as they happen that I find it difficult to get less direct and more summary-ish in order to imply things happening while a large amount of time passes. I managed it in chapters 2 and 5 and kind of 6 here, so apparently I can do it when I need to, but in the planning stages, the thought of doing that was daunting enough that I just tried to avoid it whenever possible by taking the lazy way out and using a scene break.

I lamented later, after I’d started writing and my scene plans were too finalised to change, that it could have been fun to write Kaito’s physical and emotional reactions to the end of these beatings: after the pain had built up so much and become more and more overwhelmingly hard to bear, his desperate relief at realising that it’s finally over (for now) and he’s going to be able to just rest. There’d have been a lot of weakness and vulnerability from him in those moments that he’d have had a difficult time hiding.

But then again, while this was completely unintentional of me and just born from my hang-ups as a writer, maybe there’s also something fun about the fact that I never showed that vulnerability. As soon as he could once he was resting, Kaito would have mentally pulled himself back together and convinced himself that he never really felt that weak and vulnerable towards the end of the beatings, nope, that just didn’t happen at all. So not showing that vulnerability and only jumping back into Kaito’s inner monologue after he’s managed to paper over it is perhaps an appropriate way to go about this, given the way I’d been pointedly having the narration only directly mention things that Kaito was letting himself think about in general. It really didn’t ever happen, see!? Kaito is still basically fine!

Chapter 4

My idea for this chapter was for it to appear to be setting itself up to be another chapter in which Kaito tortures himself trying to escape the contraption – and then he just… doesn’t, because he’s too hurt and exhausted, not to mention legitimately traumatised from how awful an ordeal it ended up being the last time he tried. And because he’s telling himself that he should be trying to escape, expecting himself to go at it again, he ends up feeling like he’s failing, even though all he’s really doing is making the sensible decision to take the chance to rest and not torture himself unnecessarily. He knows his sidekicks are coming for him, so he’s not really giving up at all, but he feels like he is.

I therefore originally thought of this as actually being just a rest chapter that pushes Kaito’s mental deterioration along a bit more, but in which he isn’t actually being tortured for once (aside from the one time he triggers the contraption). However, as I was writing it, I realised how awful it is to not be able to sleep properly when you’re exhausted and desperately need to (which is precisely why the cable was left higher this time so he couldn’t even sit down), and that that’s definitely a type of torture too. So, whoops, guess this is still a chapter in which Kaito is being tortured after all. He gets absolutely no real chances to rest here. (He would have done if he hadn’t taken the bait in chapter 2, but.)

This was also supposed to be the halfway point of the fic, and it still kind of is in a narrative sense, but in terms of length? Ahaha, not quite.

Chapter 5

My general brainstorming had already given me the idea of Kaito stubbornly declaring that his sidekicks are on a lengthy series of different planets upon being repeatedly asked where they are, as both a coping mechanism and a fuck-you to his torturers. This idea also included the notion of him eventually running out of planets not because he didn’t know any more, but just because the pain got too overwhelmingly much for him to think straight, leading him to be unable to deny that this was getting to him and beat himself up about that, spurring his transition into phase 2 of his character arc. At first I was just vaguely imagining this happening without a specific torture method to go with it, but I decided on the water torture for it in the end. This particular method gives convenient regular intervals in which Kaito can give his series of planets and long periods in between in which he can be stubbornly distracting himself with space facts. But most importantly, it’s a torture method which is less about pain and more about fear, aka the exact thing I needed to force Kaito into finally acknowledging he was feeling.

Another shout-out goes to a scene from the How to Train Your Dragon book series (a series I highly recommend in general) for making me realise the potential inherent in water torture. I knew “water torture” was a thing but had never quite understood how you could torture someone with water or why it was awful and terrifying until reading that scene. If it wasn’t for that, this chapter would have been something entirely different and probably less fun.

Also, can you believe that the mirror wasn’t even a part of this scene until quite late into the planning? I’d pictured Kaito being able to look straight at Takehira while above water in order to stubbornly yell at him about space, except I realised that wouldn’t work when, whoops, sinks are generally against walls. Then I realised that sinks often come with mirrors on said wall and that would work. Then I realised that Kaito would also be able to see far more interesting and relevant things in a mirror than just Takehira’s mask, and that this would also be perfect for pushing Kaito into admitting how weak he (supposedly) is. So that part happened kind of completely by accident.

Because of the fact that I’d been picturing Takehira as standing opposite Kaito until I realised the sink would be against the wall, he also wasn’t originally the one holding Kaito underwater. It was only after I’d written the scene without it that I realised, wait a minute, of course Takehira should be the one doing that to Kaito personally; it’s way better that way (he’s the one Kaito is specifically thinking about trying to win against, after all) than if it’s just one of the random mooks. The one stepping on Kaito’s face at the beginning of the chapter also wasn’t originally Takehira until I realised that that obviously made the most sense and had the most impact. Can’t believe I missed both of those obvious choices in the planning. I guess I was still figuring out Takehira’s character as I went along.

Since Kaito ended up so viscerally traumatised in particular by Takehira grabbing his hair, and since that’d have been a lot less possible if Kaito had still had the hairstyle, can we talk about how I completely accidentally foreshadowed this in my original cult takedown AU post? Maki told Kaito to ditch the hairstyle, so he… stuck his head under some water for a couple of minutes. That time it was a shower and he could breathe just fine, but still. (I edited in the interjection about how there must be a downside to it later, after having written enough of the fic to have decided it was canon that he ironically said that in mock-indignation while never genuinely believing there would be one. But everything else about that bullet point was written before I’d even remotely started wanting to write this fic and conceiving this chapter’s events.)

Obviously I had to do some research about SPACE for this chapter, because Kaito would definitely be reciting accurate Space Facts. Originally he was only going to be listing planets, starting with the solar system and then moving onto exoplanets. Except, just like Kaito awkwardly remembered once he got to Proxima Centauri b, I learned during my research that actually there aren’t really any other exoplanets with unique names, so that option was kind of a bust. Then I remembered that there’s a ton of moons in the solar system with unique names, so I figured Kaito would go for those too and started looking those up. (Takehira wasn’t surprised when Kaito moved onto Phobos and Deimos because he’d read Kaito’s public Hope’s Peak file and knew he was the Ultimate Astronaut, so he was expecting Kaito to do something like that. But the henchmen hadn’t been told that fact, hence why they were surprised. Still, this was probably not the weirdest impromptu coping mechanism they’d seen from one of their torture victims.)

Then I saw during my research that Saturn’s moons included Atlas and Prometheus, and I just couldn’t resist the gratuitous-self-referencing potential. See an ask reply from earlier for more of my thought process with this bit. This was also the moment I realised that Pandora was such a great fit for Maki – I basically just looked at all the feminine-named moons of Saturn in the hope that one of them would fit her because I really wanted to do this shameless-symbolism thing and didn’t want to leave Maki out of it, and luckily I found one. (The reason I brought this up kind of out of nowhere when a slightly less recent ask related to my P4 AU gave me an excuse to do so was very much because it was going to be in the fic and I wanted people to potentially be able to get the reference if they cared.)

Knowing the well-known moons for each planet makes it possible to count just how many times Kaito would have been forced to the brink of drowning here. It was three times before he started the space thing, then he did space, the moon, Mercury to Pluto (minus Earth), Phobos, Deimos, Europa, Io, Callisto, Ganymede, Titan, Enceladus, Titania, Oberon, Triton, Charon, Proxima Centauri b, the Andromeda Galaxy, like four other galaxies, Kerberos, Styx, Nix, Hydra, Pandora, Prometheus, Atlas, then five or so more times before Takehira realises he still isn’t breaking and gives up. That all adds up to something a little over forty times Kaito had to endure that. He is so strong, and his space-facts coping mechanism genuinely helped so much in that it meant he was only consciously terrified for a small fraction of it all.

I also did a little bit of rather more hands-on research for this chapter, namely holding my breath for as long as I could to get an idea of how to describe what it feels like when it seems as if you can’t possibly hold it any more, since I had to describe that quite a lot. And I may have also filled a sink with water and stuck my face in it a few times to get a sense of the physical sensations one would be most immediately conscious of when that happens. (Don’t worry; this was emphatically not done at the same time as holding my breath for as long as I absolutely could. In fact, I found my brain automatically making me surface much sooner than I’d expected to need to, leading to the conclusion that, damn, water torture must be even more horrendously awful than I’d imagined and Kaito is amazing for being able to endure it for so long.)

So if I ever get asked, as an author, “what’s the weirdest research you’ve ever done for a story?” – well, now I have a very good answer.

Chapter 6

There was also some hands-on research done for this one, involving lying on the floor, folding my arms behind my back, trying to keep my ankles together and then seeing how easy it was to move around in that position. Answer: it’s really difficult and awkward even when you’re not horribly injured and in a lot of pain, so Kaito must have had a great time.

And my final shout-out for torture method inspiration goes to Danganronpa V3 itself, of course. There’s canonically a poison that inflicts horrible pain and is explicitly used to torture people for information? Excellent. All I needed was a quick handwave as to why it won’t kill Kaito here despite being explicitly lethal in canon – which really is just a bonus because that means that the pain can get even worse and last even longer than it would normally – and I was good to go. You may have noticed that I had Kaito be injected with Strike-9 in his left arm, aka exactly where Maki’s poisoned arrow hit him in another universe. …Honestly it’s kind of impractical for them to have injected him in the arm when the ropes would have made the poison’s circulation from there way slower (though I guess we could pretend that was meant to be the point). I might have otherwise gone for Kaito being injected in the neck – easier to access and much more viscerally unpleasant – but screw it, I wanted the parallel to how he was poisoned by Strike-9 in canon, sue me.

For this chapter, I needed a torture method that’d really push Kaito into being convinced that he absolutely couldn’t take it, and that’d let him see just how amazing he was being when he realised that he still could. So it seemed appropriate to use this one, in which the only real limit to how painful it could get was my imagination – and I like to think I’ve got a pretty good one of those. (And, for that matter, Kaito’s imagination let him become incredibly scared of it before it’d even remotely reached its full effects on him. Because he’s so scared already, he’s imagining the absolute worst, which he’d never have done until he was in phase 2. That helped, too.)

Although, I say I could just use my imagination here, but I actually based this quite a bit on some more research I did. (This fic required more research than probably every other fic I’ve ever written combined; I guess I just don’t usually write about stuff that requires particularly specialist knowledge.) I looked into the effects of strychnine, the real-life horribly painful poison that Strike-9 is named after and loosely based on. …Well, technically it’s only named after it in the game’s localisation – in Japanese it’s just called “lethal torture poison”, a fact I also referenced in-fic – but it does still seem to be based on strychnine either way based on a comment Kokichi makes about finding it harder to breathe, which is indeed the usual way that strychnine kills somebody.

Since fictional Strike-9 is not exactly the same anyway (real strychnine does not have an antidote), I knew I could take some liberties, such as with the non-lethality handwave drug, but I still got inspiration for quite a few of its effects on Kaito from things I’d read about strychnine. One of the biggest effects of strychnine appears to be painful muscle spasms, which admittedly doesn’t seem to fit with canon Strike-9 based on the fact that neither Kaito nor Kokichi are ever shown spasming while under its effects. I dealt with that minor detail by deciding it was possible to consciously hold down the spasms up to a certain point – but also that doing so still hurts anyway, of course, because what would be the point if it didn’t.

It was also appropriate, given that this was when Kaito’s self-loathing was at its absolute peak, that this was a kind of torture that essentially felt to Kaito like it wasn’t even being inflicted on him by the torturers (even though he knew it was) and was just coming from inside him. So it was almost as if everything making Kaito suffer here was all from himself. Having him not be distracted by what the torturers were doing to him from the outside here also made it easy for him to get as introspective as I wanted him to. These aspects were actually unplanned; it was just a happy coincidence that the torture method I’d already chosen for this happened to work so well in these ways, too.

My friend antialiasis deserves credit for the part later in the chapter where Kaito’s realisation that he’s still a hero sends him into a weird triumphant euphoria that actually makes the pain go away for a bit. She proposed that while we were throwing ideas around in the conversation that sparked off me realising this’d be a really fun fic to write. Or, well, most of the conversation was me throwing ideas at her and her going “yes good” – but this one was hers, and I liked it a lot so I included it. It seemed so right that, upon Kaito finally realising how proud he deserved to be of himself, that feeling should have a real tangible impact on him despite all the pain.

Chapter 7

At first, my ideas of how Kaito would eventually be rescued were rather vague and… sort of unsatisfying? Not that Kaito didn’t absolutely need to be reunited with his friends, of course, both for the cathartic relief of everything finally being over, and to explore how he was now comfortable showing vulnerability in front of them. But it seemed kind of narratively awkward that he’d gone through so much hell to finally learn how being a hero really worked, only for his friends to then come along and end things in a way that was completely unrelated to the psychological conflict and character arc that he’d been having.

My original vague scenario for the rescue was something like Maki bursting into the room where Kaito’s being held and taking out his torturers to free him. Then I considered that if Maki and Shuichi were coming as part of a big government raid, the torturers might have already rushed out to try and deal with that as soon as it got there, leaving Kaito tied up and alone and hoping for someone to find him (especially if he’s still in need of an antidote, which I’m pretty sure was one of my ideas at that point). But then it occurred to me that, wait, if they were going to deal with the raid, then wouldn’t it make the most sense for the cultists to want to use Kaito as a hostage, knowing he’s important to Shuichi and Maki?

Which at first was a big problem, because I couldn’t quite see a way for Kaito to get out of that situation alive, and yet I refused to imagine an end to this story in which he didn’t. I came up with the way he got out of it purely in a desperate attempt to let him survive somehow (having concluded that the hostage situation really was the most likely way for events to unfold and it’d be kinda contrived for it to not happen at all). And it just so happened, purely by accident, that this escape method I’d come up with involved Kaito feigning weakness, something he’d never have dreamed of doing at the beginning before his character development – which suddenly made the rescue finally feel narratively satisfying. Kaito was saved not just by unrelated outside factors that would have happened anyway, but because of something he did thanks to what he’d learned from his character arc (while still not having been able to do it without his friends’ help, which he’d also learned to be okay with!).

And it was around this point that I started to seriously decide I was going to write this fic. It was finally starting to come together and feel like more than just some fun hypotheticals that were interesting to self-indulgently think about, but also an actual satisfying story that really deserved to be written.

Since I had a detailed outline and could start the actual writing from pretty much any point, the first part I fully wrote was in fact the hug in chapter 7. This was, after all, the Most Important Part that deserved the most passive editing time to give it as much polish as possible. By that, I mean that I’ll often reread bits I wrote just for fun and make small tweaks without consciously thinking of it as an Editing Session – which would usually mean, if I wrote in order, that the end of a thing naturally winds up a bit less polished than the beginning. I didn’t want that for the Very Important Hug, so I wrote it first on purpose to avoid that.

And while I was never not having immense fun writing this, sometimes it would also get a bit emotionally exhausting to write the more brutal torture parts while so deep in Kaito’s head. So it was nice to be able to wind down from a writing session like that by reading over the hug scene and having the catharsis of knowing that Kaito was going to be okay in the end.

Fun with Ctrl+F

The types of words Kaito was willing to use in his inner monologue to describe what he was going through underwent some pretty big shifts as things deteriorated, some of them deliberate on my part and some just unconscious. And, thanks to AO3’s feature of loading all chapters of the fic on one page, and my browser’s word-search feature putting a marker on the scroll bar at each instance of the searched word, I can get some data that actually visualises the distribution of certain key words throughout the fic.

So what the hey, let’s take a look at some of this. You want graphs? I have graphs. Sort of.

The grey bars are a screenshot of my scroll bar, with the yellow markers on them being instances of that word. Also with indicators to separate the chapters, and to mark where I consider each of the three key phases in Kaito’s character arc (discussed in the previous post) to shift into the next. (Daaaaamn though how did chapters 5 and 6 end up so long. Also I told you phase 1 was the longest one; it’s about as long as phases 2 and 3 combined.)

Pain: 110 words Hurt: 54 words

As you can see, Kaito spends the first chapter and a half – more like chapter and two-thirds, really – definitely not being in any pain at all (or at least, if he is, it’s totally irrelevant and not worthy of mention). But when the pain finally does show up, it’s suddenly all pain all the time with no gradual build-up. Funny, that – almost like it was really all pain all the time from the beginning, too.

It was very freeing once I got past that point in chapter 2 and could finally just have Kaito’s inner monologue say that it hurt whenever I wanted to communicate that fact. Getting that across without directly acknowledging it had been kind of fun, but it’d have driven me mad if it’d gone on for much longer than this.

Chapter 5 is a somewhat less pain-filled chapter than the rest, for obvious reasons. There’s also this interesting patch in the depths of chapter 6 where “hurt” became more common than “pain” for a little while. This wasn’t at all conscious of me, but it might be because “pain” is a slightly more detached way to think about it than an immediate, reactionary “it hurts” – and in the desperate, near-broken state that Kaito was in at that point, he was more likely to be doing the latter.

Agony: 26 words

It was very deliberate of me that the first use of this word was during the hellish near-drowning ordeal that caused Kaito to completely forget Atlas and “lose” his Very Important Space Competition. And then after that point I just let myself use it whenever it felt appropriate, so naturally there’s a lot of it in chapter 6. There were definitely some points earlier than this in which the average person would have described what Kaito was feeling as “agony” – heck, that probably happened as early as chapter 2 – but Kaito was not willing to admit so early on that he was hurting that much. It was only once his mental state had grown weaker that he began to actually describe it that way to himself.

Scream: 33 words

Kaito was a little more willing to admit this one earlier on (though not quite as early as this makes it look – that first one was a scream of rage, which is way more acceptable than a scream of pain, and the second is just his shoulders “screaming” at him in protest and not a sound Kaito made). Actual noises that he physically makes do, after all, have a lot less plausible deniability to them. That said, he had some “piercing yell”s in chapter 2 that most people would have called screams, but nope, they definitely weren’t that, not when he’s totally not even in any remotely significant amount of pain yet.

Scared: 33 words Weak: 32 words

“Scared” isn’t the only fear-related word, but it’s the most common one. And yep, of course this one doesn’t show up until phase 2. (That one in chapter 3 is an outlier; he’s talking about how the cult is scared of Shuichi taking them down.)

It was also deliberate of me to not have Kaito use the word “weak” until phase 2 (the chapter 1 instance is another outlier, talking about the kids and not himself). In fact, I consider the moment he calls himself weak for the first time to be the moment phase 2 begins. Up until then, he’d been doing a lot of questioning how strong he is and worrying he might not be strong enough, but once he starts to outright think of himself as possibly being weak, that’s something that’s him actively failing at being a hero and is a lot harder for him to take back and deny.

But though these two words both show up at around the same time, look at how “scared” is then still used a lot in phase 3 (some of those are about the cultists being scared of him, but plenty are still Kaito’s own fear), whereas “weak” is used a lot less from then on, and never to describe Kaito as actually being weak. While him being scared was always true, him being weak never was, at least not in the sense of weakness that really matters.

Pathetic: 28 words

There are various ways in which Kaito expresses his self-loathing, but this is probably the most common single word that’s always used in that way, so it’s the best way to get us a measure of this. It first appears near the end of chapter 2 but is more scattered earlier on, disappears in chapter 5 while he is in SPACE and obviously Totally Handling It, and then reappears with vicious abandon as he tumbles into phase 2 of his arc. I remember thinking to myself at one point while writing around then, “Kaito, you did not need to call yourself pathetic three times in the same page, calm down.” Turns out it was definitely more than one particular page he was being like that for.

Interestingly, this kind of lessens itself out around when he’s finished his uncontrollable sobbing fit over getting his friends killed. I guess at that point he just couldn’t possibly drag himself any deeper than he already was, and so there was no need for him to be quite so vicious to himself? I’m not sure; this part wasn’t on purpose.

Helpless: 30 words

This one’s honestly kind of less about Kaito’s mental deterioration and opinion of himself. A lot of the time it’s more about the fact that he’s just being externally rendered helpless whether he likes it and would want to agree with it or not. But I was curious as to how many times I used that word: quite a few, it turns out. Still in a somewhat higher concentration during chapter 6, too, as you’d expect.

Tortur: 26 words

(Without the “e” so that the search also catches “torturing”.)

You might expect this one to be used a lot more, since the entire fic is almost nothing but Kaito being tortured. But… most of the time, he doesn’t really like to think about that fact. He’s not precisely lying to himself about it and trying to tell himself he’s not being tortured or anything because that’d be a bit too obviously untrue, so it’ll come up occasionally whenever it’s necessary for him to think that word. But still, he’s trying not to dwell on it.

(Also, fun fact, “waterboarding” is, as antialiasis informed me when she read the fic, a term for a very specific kind of water torture that is not actually what was done to Kaito in chapter 5. However, since it seems that’s a fairly common misconception, I let Kaito have that misconception too and left his line about that as-is, mostly because I didn’t want to change it to “water torture” and have him use the word “torture” again when he didn’t have to.)

The exception here is chapter 6, where that word’s a little bit more frequent than in the other chapters, now that Kaito is openly terrified and can no longer stop himself from freaking out about the fact that he’s being tortured and it’s awful and he doesn’t want any of this. As phase 2 set in, I deliberately had Kaito quietly switch his mental terms for the cultists from “henchmen” or “captors”, to “torturers”. They were his torturers the entire time, obviously, but he only began to actively think of them that way when he could no longer hide from how nightmarish this whole thing was.

Hero: 85 words

Man, Kaito uses that word a lot in this fic. Honestly, this is way more than he’d usually use it – normally it’s a lot more frequent to hear “sidekick” from him than “hero” – but in this instance he is fervently clinging to that concept as the thing that he needs to be, or else. Which is really incredibly unhealthy of him, considering what his standards for living up to that are, up until he figures out what it really means.

There’s considerably less “hero”ing in chapter 5 despite him being very stubbornly Totally Fine for most of that chapter. I mentioned that and the reason for it in part 1 of this author’s commentary, and it’s only because of these Ctrl+F-ing shenanigans of mine that I’d even noticed that.

Sidekick: 34 words

The use of this one has less to do with Kaito’s mental state – except when it vanishes for most of chapter 6 – and is more just because this really is how Kaito will naturally refer to Shuichi and Maki together when not using their names. It still shows up at a lot of the same points that “hero” does, for obvious reasons. And then also in chapter 5 when his sidekicks are in SPACE, even though his mental jury is out at that point on whether or not he’s really a hero.

Friend: 29 words

This word only shows up once Kaito breaks down upon thinking he’s getting his friends killed. Impressively, he then manages to use it almost as many times as he used “sidekick” throughout the entire thing. Which is good. They are his friends and that is Important.

Having him not use the word for most of the fic was deliberate. I’ve talked in one of my commentary posts about the kind-of-heartbreaking fact that Kaito almost never refers to his sidekicks as “friends” and might not even quite realise that’s what they are. So at some point during this fic, along with getting Kaito to realise it’s okay for heroes to be vulnerable, I also wanted him to figure this one out, too. I wasn’t sure exactly when that’d happen, mind you, and just kind of winged it when I saw the best opportunity during the actual writing process. Being broken into believing that he doesn’t even deserve to call them his sidekicks any more and that he’s going to get them killed is, uh, not exactly the happiest way for Kaito to finally realise and fully accept that they’ve always been his best friends, but, well, it got him there.

And most importantly, he kept thinking of them that way even after regaining the ability to think of them as his sidekicks, too. They can be his heroes, sidekicks and best friends all in one.

#danganronpa v3 #kaito momota #kaito whump #ramble #kaito's hero issues #writing #torture #and now to finally move on to something that isn't about this fic! probably #that said i still have plenty more Thoughts about this fic #so still totally open for asks regarding it

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unfunny-quips · 4 years

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Summary: Later, Din would wander down to find the Armorer and Kuiil testing the offensive and defensive abilities of their creation. Paz and his son watched on from a safe distance behind some blast proof barricades that had been brought as a tithe to the Tribe ages ago. The little one sat perched on one of Paz’s knees, eating the bang-corn Paz fed him happily and giggling whenever there was a particularly flashy explosion that the hovering cradle deflected or - often enough - caused.

Scenes from my Parables of Promise series that didn't quite make it into the stories they were written for, but I was still hopeful people would enjoy anyway. Will be updated whenever a random scene I like that's complete doesn't make it in to the main storyline.

Kuiil stood in the entrance of the Foundry, feeling shorter than usual besides the looming figure of Paz Vizla, as he waited to be granted entrance from the Mandalorian Armorer.

When he’d told Din that he would need additional parts for creating a new cradle for the little one, he’d expected the Mandalorian to either take a list and get them from the market or tag along with him and IG to pay for parts. He had not been anticipating the lad to direct him to the tunnels beneath Nevarro, nor was he expecting Din to further assure him that the Armorer would be both able and willing to give whatever supplies he might need for the project.

He’d gone anyway though, taking the indicated entrance to the tunnels and leaving Din and IG to barter for parts for the Crest in the market above. He took the little one with him, largely to ensure that - should Paz not be present to vouch for him - the Armorer would not think him an outsider and do to him what he’d heard done to the Storm Troopers. Even with Din’s assurances, he’d been in doubt at the wisdom of sending him down without a Mandalorian escort, only reassured he wouldn’t find his end in the tunnels when the imposing figure of Paz appeared from the gloom and greeted him cordially.

The Child in Kuiil’s arms wriggled and cooed, ears perked as the little one caught sight of a shiny bauble on a nearby work bench. Kuiil bobbed the little one gently, redirecting the toddlers attention to the Mythosaur necklace the little one wore instead with a practiced ease. It had been a long time since he’d cared for a child, let alone one so young, but some things stuck with a person and fatherhood was one of them.

“You’re quite good with him.” A cool, modulated voice said from across the room. Kuiil lifted his gaze to find that the Armorer had turned her attention away from her forge and on to him. After a moment considering his small frame in the door of her Foundry she nodded towards what appeared to be a set of low stools and a table. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He adjusted the child in his arms and took the proffered seat, only partially surprised when Paz came to stand over him rather than sitting himself. His interactions with the Mandalorian in blue armor had been limited to the first day or so of being in the hospital, buzzing on pain medication. He’d learned more second hand from Cara and Din, the former teasing the latter mercilessly over the obvious affection Din had for the other Mando. He knew that Paz was gentle to the child and had saved Din’s life, which was enough for the Ugnaught to make an initial, favorable assessment.

“Has he eaten?” Paz asked, leaning his massive frame downward to brush a gloved finger over the child’s wrinkled forehead. The Child cooed, reaching out with the hand not preoccupied with keeping the mythosaur pendant in his mouth to hold onto Paz’s hand. Paz crooked his finger, bobbing the little one’s hand and electing a smile from the child.

Kuill felt a smile pull at his face and gently shifted the little one as the child moved to reach for Paz. “He ate before we came to the market.” He answered, allowing Paz to scoop the toddler up in much larger arms. “I imagine he’d be happy if you give him more though. His appetite has increased over the past few days.”

The mythosaur pendant dropped from the child’s mouth as two green hands reached to pat happily against Paz’s helmet. Large ears flicked excitedly as Paz bumped his forehead lightly against the little one’s, the child babbling cheerfully. “Are you finally going to grow ad’ika? If you eat well you might be as big as your Buir one day.” Paz told the child, gently tapping his fingers along the toddler’s ribs, pulling a delighted giggle from the child. Kuiil smiled as the massive Mandalorian tucked the little one against his chest and turned his attention back down to where Kuiil sat. “Just made some stew with some good flavor to it, I’ll get him some.”

Kuiil nodded, allowing Paz to wander off with the little one in his arms. He watched them disappear down the hall before turning back to the Forge, letting the hum of the Foundry settle over him. The Armorer set her tools down, quiet as she moved to take the seat across from him.

“You are Kuiil.” She said, golden helm tilting as if she was considering him. “I have heard of what you have done for the Foundling. On behalf of the Tribe, please know that we are in your debt.”

He shook his head, waving her words away with a hand the way he had so many months ago when Din had offered him funds in exchange for his aid. “I want no debt from you or your people.” He told her honestly. He’d spent a lifetime paying for debts, he’d not see them settled on anyone else if he could help it. “The only repayment I can ask is that the child is well and cared for.”

The Armorer made a soft, endeared sound beneath her helm. “Din Djarin said you would say as much.” She offered, and he thought he could hear a smile in her modulated voice. “You are an interesting one Kuiil.”

Warmth filled his chest at those words, a small smile touching his lips. “That is entirely untrue.” He told her, honestly. He was only an old Ugnaught, far past his prime with only lonely days of freedom ahead of him. Interesting was not a word to describe one such as himself. “Is this the reason he sent me down here then? I thought it odd he’d direct me to you to get parts for the baby’s cradle.”

The Armorer tilted her head, a low noise he realized to be a soft chuckle coming from beneath her helm, “Not at all. I am an Armorer, but that does not mean that armor is the extent of my craft.” She nodded towards a workbench a little ways away from where she had been working at the forge. Kuiil saw familiar tools laid out along its surface, along with several crates of parts set nearby. “If you would permit, I can aid in making this one a bit more sturdy than the last.” At his glance she added, “Beskar is usually reserved for Helms and the armor of warriors, but something tells me Din Djarin’s foundling will require a bit more than the standard durasteal for a buycika.”

Kuiil felt a smile pull his face wide at the idea. He’d never worked with beskar before. Too rare, to precious a resource, not meant to be used on the kinds of things Kuiil worked on. His fingers itched at the thought of getting to craft with it, see what the legendary iron could do. “Indeed.” He agreed, then paused as his eyes landing on some of Paz’s weaponry the other Mandalorian had set aside in the Foundry. “Perhaps something a bit more than just extra armor?”

The Armorer tilted her head, Helm shifting in such a way he could tell she was following his gaze. “Ah.” She said, and Kuiil heard the moment she understood what he was suggesting. “Yes. I rather think some additional security protocols would be rather beneficial. Shall we?”

Kuiil nodded, getting to his feet as she rose and following her lead eagerly as they began going over his initial plans and making the changes they deemed necessary. Adjustments would need to be made to account for the additions they were making, but between his own experience and the skill of the Armorer he was rather certain they could make something suitable for a child so often in trouble. As the Armorer began gathering equipment, Kuiil glanced over his notes, considering how feasible it would be to rig up a tracking jammer with the spare parts he could see laying about.

He would need to remember to thank Din later when he saw him next. He hadn’t had so much fun working on a new creation in centuries.

Later, Din would wander down to the hours later to find the Armorer and Kuiil testing the offensive and defensive abilities of their creation. Paz and his son watched on from a safe distance behind some blast proof barricades that had been brought as a tithe to the Tribe ages ago. The little one sat perched on one of Paz’s knees, eating the bang-corn Paz fed him happily and giggling whenever there was a particularly flashy explosion that the hovering cradle deflected or - often enough - caused.

Perhaps the the addition of the Whistling Birds was a tad overkill - even by Din’s standards - but Kuiil and the Armorer looked so pleased when their creation all but disintegrated the mock Storm Trooper they’d fashioned with scavenged gear that he hadn’t the heart to say anything. Besides, he was too enamored with the Mudhorn signet emblazoned on the side of the cradle too much to ever give them any kind of feedback that wasn’t overwhelmingly positive.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #Baby Yoda #The Armorer #Kuiil #Paz Vizla #everybody lives #fic #my writing #mandalorian fic #some paz/din #more to be included later #kuiil and the armorer are bros #parables of promise

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

Text

I’ve Just Seen a Face

Happy Birthday, @xemmaloveskillianx ! It was a pleasure to get to know you a little bit during the big bang, and your story Beastly was one of my faves. I hope you have a lovely day. Here’s a fluffy meet-cute as a gift. Kind of like a fanfic cupcake, or more aptly in this case, a fanfic birthday bear claw.

Based on the song by the Beatles as well as a prompt on AuthorZoo.com’s post “How to Craft a Killer Meet Cute.”

Rating: G

Trigger: none unless you count the high sugar content, literal and of the fluffy variety

Words: almost 3,000

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @kday426 @teamhook@bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @let-it-raines @distant-rose @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @shireness-says@optomisticgirl

I’ve just seen a face. I can’t forget the time or place where we just met. She’s just the girl for me, and I want all the world to see we’ve met.

It was Killian’s job every Friday to get the donuts. It wasn’t because he was so low on the business ladder; the name of the company was Jones Brothers Shipping, after all. It wasn’t because he was the little brother of said Jones brothers, either. It’s just that he liked donuts, he liked the way Tink and Ariel smiled when he brought them in, he liked the way his brother stopped stressing for once to have coffee and a chat, and so. . . yeah, he bought the donuts.

He also, unlike his brother, pays attention to details. It’s why they make such a great team (in addition to being siblings which means they can fight viciously and still be okay at the end of the day): Liam is the big picture guy and Killian is the details guy. Therefore, he knows that Ariel likes jelly donuts, Tink likes strawberry frosted (with sprinkles), and his brother likes bear claws. Will, Robin, and Eric like cake donuts for some bizarre reason, and Killian just likes classic glazed, thank you very much.

On this particular Friday, it’s raining and there’s a bad accident on I-93, and it took Killian at least ten minutes of crawling around in the back seat to find his umbrella, so he’s wet and cross and running late when he dashes into the bakery. Tink says he’s part owner and therefore, can’t be late, but he and Liam are former navy and well, schedules and all of that.

Normally, he would chat with Bridget who’s always working the register (Ariel would say flirt), and give a polite hello to those around him, but his day is already going poorly, so he’s laser focused on his order and nothing else.

“You got here just in time,” Bridget comments as she rings him up, “there was only one bear claw left.”

Later, he’ll say its fate, but in that moment he barely notices the comment. He simply snatches up the box of donuts and bravely makes his way back out into the heavy downpour, struggling to keep a hold of the box of donuts while simultaneously opening his umbrella. Not an easy task for anyone, but even more so for him, missing his left hand. Another result of those former navy days.

So he isn’t exactly in the best mood initially when he meets her, rude and sharp “Hey! Hey, you!” coming angrily from her lips. He groans at her words and is ready with a sharp retort before he even turns around.

But see, he turned around. He turned around, and he saw her, and that pretty much stopped his ability to speak. She either has no umbrella or has had an even worse morning than he has because she's standing there getting soaked in the pouring rain. Most women would have rivulets of mascara running down their faces, but she doesn’t, and he wonders if her clear lack of eye makeup is indicative of how her morning has gone or her personality. He also wonders if her skin is always so fair, her lips that pink, or if she’s chilled from the rain.

But mostly he thinks how incredibly, unfairly beautiful she is. No one has the right to be that gorgeous standing in the pouring rain, but she is. Her golden hair is flattened to her head, yet it does nothing to detract from its brightness. The rain drops glisten on her eyelashes, making her jade eyes sparkle like gems. He could stare at that face all day, but his eyes can’t help tracing the rivulets of water running over her collarbone and noting the figure she cuts in the white blouse now plastered to her skin from the rain. Over it she’s wearing a red leather jacket, not the most practical thing to wear in the rain, but it makes her look like some sort of heroine from a comic book, especially the way her hands are perched on her hips. The intense, feisty look on her face completes the picture, and he can’t help the half grin that tilts his lips.

“Aye, love?”

She rolls her eyes, something that he’s never considered arousing until now.

“I’m not hitting on you, idiot. I want your bear claw.”

Feisty indeed. He takes a few steps closer, admiring the way she doesn’t back down.

“Well, see, I bought it fair and square, so I believe we are at an impasse.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at him. “What are you, auditioning for the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie?”

He laughs. She shoots the proverbial daggers from her eyes.

“And get out of my personal space,” she snaps.

“I was attempting to share my umbrella.”

“I’m already wet.”

“I can see that.” He arches a brow. It may earn him a punch to the gut, but he can’t stop himself.

She rolls her eyes again. It’s better than a blow from her fist. “The bear claw?”

“It’s my brother’s favorite.”

“I’ll pay you for it.”

“I still won’t have a bear claw for Liam.”

“Not my problem.”

“Then why is your lack of a bear claw mine?”

She sighs in irritation as she pushes wet strands of hair from her face. “Look, I’ve had a shitty morning, and the only thing that could make it better is a damn bear claw. Okay?”

Something in her eyes shifts, and he frowns. It’s as if a tiny window has opened and then quickly shut again. She doesn’t open up often or easily; he can see that clearly.

“Okay, you can have the bear claw, but the payment I ask isn’t money,” he tells her, all flirtation and cockiness gone from his voice.

She blinks, and her mouth opens in clear offense. “I don’t pillage and plunder with guys I just met, if that’s what you’re asking, pirate.”

He chuckles again as he hands her the umbrella to hold while he opens the box of donuts. He balances the box on his prosthetic while extending the bear claw with his good hand.

“Your name,” he tells her, “that’s all I want.”

She cocks her head at him suspiciously. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

She eyes him, then the bear claw peace offering, then him again. Whatever test she puts him through, he passes.

“Emma Swan,” she says, taking the bear claw.

“Killian Jones.” He winks at her as he takes a step back.

“Your umbrella!” She exclaims as he gets farther away, his own hair now plastered to his forehead.

“You need it more than I do, love.”

And if his address and phone number are on the handle, well, she can do with it what she wills.

Had it been another day, I might have looked the other way, and I’d have never been aware, but as it is I’ll dream of her tonight.

“Killian? Killian!”

“Hmm?”

Liam frowns. “First you give me a plain donut instead of my usual bear claw, and now you’re ignoring me. What’s with you?”

“He met someone,” Ariel says as she comes in to put a folder in the filing cabinet. They really need a bigger office.

Liam arches a brow at him over the rim of his coffee mug, and Ariel leans smugly against the filing cabinet. Killian scowls at her, but she just winks at him.

“It was nothing,” he mutters.

“He gave her your bear claw and his umbrella.”

Liam chuckles. “The umbrella that just happens to have your number on it.”

“How do you know what my umbrella looks like?’

“Because Elsa bought it for you last Christmas.”

Ariel laughs merrily. “Oh Kil, that’s adorable.” She pats him on the shoulder in a way that he frankly feels is condescending as she leaves the room.

“So I take it she was pretty.”

Pretty? The word is insufficient, brother, she was bloody gorgeous. But he says nothing aloud, just scratches behind his ear.

“Blonde hair, green eyes, and in Killian’s own words feisty.”

“Can you shut up now?” he snaps as he turns to where Ariel is still standing in the doorway. She isn’t affected in the least by his irritation, giggling as she heads back to her desk.

“Wow, little brother, she must have been some blonde.”

“Can we get back to the budget,” Killian grumbles, staring intently at the paper work in his hands.

Falling, yes I am falling, and she keeps calling me back again.

He hasn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He tried to tell himself that she has his number; that if he were a true gentleman, he would let her take the next step. But when Friday rolls around, he can’t help himself. He purposefully arrives late to the bakery at the same time she was there last week. He doesn’t even know if it’s part of her routine, but he has to try.

When he walks into the bakery and sees her sitting at one of the small tables, he thinks he wasn’t crazy after all. When he approaches and sees two bear claws and the nervous smile on her face, he’s sure of it.

“I, um, owed you a bear claw, so . . . “ she says, biting on her lower lip as she slides one of the plates closer to him, “and the umbrella . . . “ she trails off as she gestures to where it’s leaning against her chair.

Many flirtatious barbs and innuendos fly through his head, but her obvious discomfort as she tugs on the ends of her hair cause him to discard each one. Instead, he keeps it simple.

“I appreciate that. May I join you, Swan?”

Her shoulders relax under the warmth of his smile. “That’s the idea. And you remembered my name.”

He winks as he sits. “I did pay for it.”

Her cheeks warm. “True, Killian.”

Now it’s his turn to blush. “And you remembered mine. Let me guess, it’s because it was on the umbrella.”

“No.”

She accompanies the word with a tiny smile and a sparkle in her eyes, and Killian Jones learns in that moment that Emma Swan says a lot with few words.

They linger over their bear claws and through two cups of coffee. In that time, Killian also learns that Emma reveals herself slowly and hesitantly. She does tell him why she was so desperate for a bear claw last Friday. She’s a bail bondsperson, and she had been up all night staking out a perp who never showed. It had left her irritated, tired, and pissed that she hadn’t been home with her son. The last piece of information is delivered with a sidelong glance, as if she’s waiting for him to find an excuse to make a quick exit. Her eyebrows lift to her hairline with surprise and pleasure when he asks about the lad instead. She’s still guarded in sharing about him, something he completely understands and respects.

It’s a text from Liam that brings their time together to an end. (Where the hell are you, little brother? Everyone’s waiting for their donuts!) He really doesn’t care about his pissed off brother or the fact that everyone’s going to have to settle for plain glazed this week. Emma was there, she was happy to see him, and she actually had a conversation with him. He’ll gladly be late and face the wrath of the entire office very damn Friday for that.

He knows that’s all he can hope for – running into her again next week. He sees how high her walls are, knows it will take patience and a gentle touch to scale them, so he tells her breakfast was lovely and walks out with his box of donuts. He’s surprised when he hears her breathless voice behind him, calling for him to wait.

“Your umbrella,” she tells him.

He hadn’t left without it on purpose, but he’s glad he did when he sees her flushed cheeks and bright eyes as she holds it out to him.

“Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

Their fingers brush as she hands it to him, and the spark between their skin emboldens him. He sets the box of donuts and the umbrella on the hood of his car and turns to her with a flirtatious arch of his brow.

“Don’t you think gratitude is in order?” he asks flirtatiously as he taps his lips.

The slow grin that spreads across her face says more than any words could. “Yeah, that’s what the thank you was for.”

“That’s all I get? For keeping you dry all day?” He ducks his head and gives her a heated look from beneath his lashes. He’s laying it on thick, but the light in her eyes eggs him on.

“Please,” she says with that arousing roll of her eyes, “you couldn’t handle it.”

He leans into her personal space. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” He pops the “t” as he gazes at her lips.

He really thought that all he would get from her was more heated banter. He hadn’t expected Emma Swan to grab him by the collar of his leather jacket and kiss the living hell out of him, but that’s exactly what she does. She kisses him roughly, her tongue assaulting his in the most glorious way. He kisses her back with equal fervor, and she pulls back for a heartbeat only to dive back in for more. When they finally part, breathless and unsteady on their feet, he’s thoroughly wrecked.

“That was . . . “ he has no words actually for what that was. The best kiss of his life, perhaps, but it sounds a little too intense to say that out loud.

“I don’t do relationships,” she tells him, her lips still a breath away, her hands still clutching his jacket.

He blinks, feeling a sort of emotional whiplash.

“Because of my son,” she continues. “It’s why I didn’t call even though I had your number. It’s why I almost left three times before you showed up today. It’s why I can’t -”

He silences her with a gentle hand to her cheek. “I understand, Emma.” He smiles gently as he thumbs her still wet lips. “Whatever we become, it’s up to you just as much as it is me.”

She relaxes immediately, taking his hand from her cheek and clasping it against her chest. “I don’t just want a kiss in a parking lot, though.”

He laughs softly. There she goes, saying a lot with few words again.

“Then how about this,” he says, lifting her hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “I’ll be here at the same time next Friday, and if you wish, you can join me for a bear claw again.”

She blinks, her smile soft. “I think I can do that.”

Friday bear claws turn into Friday dinners, which turn into Saturday morning pancakes in his kitchen, which turn into Sunday afternoons sailing with her and her boy Henry, which turn into exchanging rings and a white picket fence. Until the day comes that he’s meeting another new face, this one with the most beautiful blue eyes he’s ever seen.

“Nice to meet you, Hope Jones,” he whispers.

I’ve just seen a face. I can’t forget the time or place where we just met. She’s just the girl for me, and I want all the world to see we’ve met.

#cs ff #captain swan modern au #meet cute #fluff #fandom birthday playlist #for xemmaloveskillianx #on her birthday #i've just seen a face

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douxreviews · 5 years

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Legends of Tomorrow - ‘The Eggplant, The Witch, and The Wardrobe’ Review

“Mikey! Mikey, Stop!”

Legends continues to ramp up the action as it moves into the final phases of its too short fourth season, and on the way makes the most important statement about relationships that's ever been uttered on genre television.

Have I mentioned how much I love this show?

One of the most consistently impressive things about the way Legends of Tomorrow tells its stories is the way that they're able to take what should be standard, if not cliched, plot set-ups and somehow turn them into something unexpectedly fantastic. Last year, Zari's turn at reliving Groundhog Day gave us the amazing 'Here I Go Again'. This week we get that thing that genre shows love to do wherein one character physically enters another character's mind in order to 'save' them from whatever has caused them to fall unresponsive, and therein finds a world built almost entirely of visual metaphors that help them work through a bit of character development before we get back to the season's larger plot.

So, yes. It's essentially Sara Lance as Willow Rosenberg in 'Weight of the World'. With the small difference that Ava, our Buffy-surrogate in the set-up, is actually able and willing to have a profoundly frank and adult discussion with her inside the, for lack of a better term, 'dreamscape'.

And really, I know that this gets mentioned in these pages a lot, but that's the greatest strength that Legends of Tomorrow has; the way that all of the characters are allowed to behave like rational and emotionally available adults, despite also being time travelling superheroes. It's sure as hell that none of us saw that coming, back in the Vandal Savage days.

Case in point, look at the way that they completely skated past the obvious 'everyone but Ray blames Nora for Hank's death' plotline here. That was obviously what we were being set up for back at the end of 'The Getaway', and yet within the first couple of scenes this week we have the Legends find out that Nora is on the Waverider, she says 'I swear I didn't kill Hank', and Constantine essentially responds, 'Yeah, we totally already figured that out. It was actually fairly obvious, and just the tiniest amount of follow-up on our part established what was really going on. We're totes good, Nora.' And everyone immediately gets on the same page on the issue, because they're all behaving like reasonable adults. That is huge. That just doesn't happen on television.

Even Nate only needs to take the smallest of moments questioning whether or not Nora is guilty before he processes what he's being told and accepts it, and that's the one instance in which they could have legitimately gotten away with a character responding in a destructive way because he was responding emotionally to his father's loss. But they didn't go there, and it cannot be overstated what a positive and refreshing example that is to see.

It's particularly clever of them, because of the way that they pulled the rug out from under us at least twice this week regarding the heavily foreshadowed Nate/Ray schism that we were all bracing ourselves for. Nate finds out that Ray has been harboring the woman he thinks killed his dad, and he responds by listening to what his friend is telling him, accepting what he's being told, and reaffirms their friendship. A little later on we see him accidentally punch Ray in what we assume is going to be the beginning of their 'Civil War' style breakup, only to immediately get ahold of himself, apologize, and embrace his friend. An apology that Ray accepts without hesitation, I might add, because Nate's actions were both completely understandable under the circumstances and immediately apologized for.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the world's greatest ever example of positive male friendship. I'm starting to believe that if we can just get enough people to watch this show, we might actually find a way to counter toxic masculinity. Wouldn't that be nice?

All of which is a roundabout way for me to get to the point that I've been growing to realize that it's really the character relationships that make this show. Witness, for example, the curious level of kindness that Constantine shows to Gary when he wants to hold vigil for Ava. Gary, by rights, should be pure dorky comic relief. Constantine, as a character type, exists almost solely to deflate that kind of comic relief character. And yet when push comes to shove, John goes to Gary's D&D nights. John cares about Gary. That's a nice detail. Similarly, it's notable the way that Mick is willing to help out Zari in something as trivial as crafting sexy text messages to Nate. Mick of even two years ago would absolutely not have been doing that.

Which brings me back to my initial point as regards that important statement about relationships. After a truly enjoyable series of sequences in the 'evil purgatory Ikea', Ava and Sara have some incredibly frank and direct talk about their relationship. And during that talk, they're both so amazingly emotionally available to one another and so willing to be vulnerable with one another. I honestly cannot think of a healthier relationship on television, ever. Not in the sense that they don't have problems, because they clearly do, but in the way tat they're willing to acknowledge them, and admit when they're in the wrong. It's messy, and it's real, and I love every second of it. And just when I think it can't get any better, Ava says;

"Let’s be honest, neither of us needs anybody. But you are who I want."

Yes. That. A million times, that. Can we amplify that message about a billion times, until it drowns out all the rom-com 'I need you to complete me' bullshit? Because that would be wonderful.

Be more like Nate and Ray, people

So what have we learned today?

To stop including this section in the reviews, because trying to condense a logically consistent universal rulebook of how timeline changes work in this fictional universe is absolutely nothing compared to what we should be learning from the character relationships. Also, clearly no one involved in the show is worrying about it.

Everybody remember where we parked.

This week the Waverider pretty much stayed where it was in Washington D.C., 2019. At least, it logically must have been sine Zari could send texts to that year, and Ray bounced back and forth between the ship and the Time Bureau.

Sara, meanwhile, went to actual literal purgatory to rescue Ava's soul. Purgatory, in this case, being an obvious Ikea knock-off called 'Megastor', complete with umlaut.

Quotes:

Ray: "Hey Sara! Great news. Hank was killed by a demon!" Nora: "'Great' was not the word he was looking for."

Ray: "She’s not a liability. She’s a survivor."

Sara: "You two are with me. (To Zari) Woman the ship."

Gary: "Conspiracies, embezzling, paper trails. I feel like Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich."

Nate: "If this is my dad’s mistress I’m gonna jump out a window."

Sara: "Ava, if you check out, you die." Ava: "Well that’s kinda on the nose, isn’t it?"

Charlie: "Being honest, wind powers- just not that scary." Mick: "Yeah, you’re like a magical hair dryer."

Nate: "Yeah, hi. We’re looking for Mr. Uh… Mr… T."

Zari: "I don’t even know why I’m talking to you two about it. You don’t even date humans." Mick: "Love’s love."

Nora: "I know how hard it is to watch someone you love become a demon." John: "Yeah, well too bad there aren’t any Beebo’s around to hug it to death."

Mick: "Here. Use words. It’s erotic, but vulnerable."

Bits and pieces:

-- Yes, I realize that they were actually in purgatory, where her soul was currently stuck, but all the semiotic rules at play here clearly were working on the understanding of 'dreamscape'.

-- So apparently Neron wanted Ava's body to host somebody called Tabitha, I assume she's his demon girlfriend.

-- The trope of the bad guy having a favorite whistle-tune so that we can identify what body he's jumped into later is super clichéd and tired. I still didn't see it coming that he'd end up in Ray though.

-- You should absolutely never pay less than $800 for a mattress. Under any circumstances.

-- It's not clear what actually happened to Nora in that ritual. Are she and Ray going to end up as Tabitha and Neron? I'd be down for that.

-- Absolutely nothing about Hank's magical creature zoo makes sense, and he certainly wouldn't have needed a demon's help to set it up. I hate everything about that plotline, with the exception of Mikey T, who is awesome.

-- Zari, Charlie and Mona giggling about texting boys shouldn't have been charming, but was completely 100% adorable.

-- Dirty secret time, I adore assembling flatpack furniture. Honestly, it's my favorite thing in the whole world. I'm not kidding.

-- The effect of aging and de-aging as the sat on the mattress was really nicely done. A very clean low tech solution which worked well.

-- I'm actually really surprised at how quickly Mona has begun feeling like a natural part of the team.

A really good episode with a lot of really positive things to say about adult relationships, both romantic and otherwise. I just wish it hadn't involved the stupid magical creatures zoo plot, because it's stupid and muddies the waters as to what Neron actually wants to accomplish.

Three out of four flatpack dressers.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

#Legends of Tomorrow #Sara Lance #John Constantine #Ray Palmer #Nate Haywood #Zari Tomaz #DC Comics #Legends of Tomorrow Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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aspoonofsugar · 5 years

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Ash as Jack o’ Lantern

My dad made a Jack o’ Lantern for me on Halloween night.

I wore it to go trick-or-treating.

I went to hide in the forest alone to scare Griffin.

it was pitch dark and there were eerie noises all around.

I got scared and turned to go home when a huge pumpkin came staggering my way.

I realized later on it was just my reflection on the windshield of a car.

This anecdote Ash tells Eiji in episode 11 summarizes Ash as a character and his difficult relationships with his parental figures throughout the series.

This meta will try to show this.

THE TRUE MEANING OF THE PUMPKIN STORY

Let’s start by how the story ends:

Ash sees a giant pumpkin moving towards him, thinks that it is a monster and gets scared. Later on he realizes the “monster” was none other than himself.

Ash tells Eiji this story to explain his fear of pumpkins, but given what happens later on in that same episode it is obvious what Ash is truly scared of:

Ash is scared of himself and sees himself as a monster. Considering this, it becomes obvious that what Ash’s childhood memory explains to us viewers is not how he developed a phobia for pumpkins, but how he came to see himself as a monster and why.

In order to explain this, we should consider the other two characters who are mentioned by Ash:

Jim and Griffin are Ash’s biological family and their role in Ash’s reminiscence is symbolic of their roles in Ash’s life.

JIM: THE MASK-MAKER

In Ash’s story Jim is the one who made the Jack-o-Lantern costume. Basically he is the one who made Ash dress-up as a monster. Such a role is symbolic of several things.

First of all, it is thought that the legend of Jack’ o Lantern was brought in the USA by Irish immigrants and that is who Jim is:

This little detail is not important per se, but it is overall fitting because it underlines how the mask represents the legacy left to Ash by his father both in terms of cultural lineage and in terms of influence on the child’s life.

The second point is much more important. As a matter of fact Jim completely failed Ash.

When his son came to him for help Jim didn’t protect him and actually this is what he advised the child to do:

In short Jim is the first person who had Ash prostitute himself. Moreover, Jim’s lack of assistance prompted Ash to act on his own:

Again, it is not by chance that the gun Ash uses is not a random one, but Jim’s. This is symbolic of how Jim himself enabled Ash to commit murder and to start a life of violence.

In other words Jim is the person who indirectly starts Ash on both prostitution and murder. They are the two things Ash hates himself for as it has been made clear several times in the series:

Because of this, it is fitting that Jim is the mask-maker who crafted the costume which scared Ash so much.

In conclusion, Ash’s mask represents the legacy left to him by his father in terms of origin and influence and how his parent, even if maybe unwillingly, molded him into becoming what Ash himself considers a monster.

GRIFFIN NEVER CAME

Ash explains that he waited in the forest for Griffin to come, but that he never came and as a result Ash himself got scared.

I think that in these short lines the way Griffin’s disappearance from Ash’s life affected him is clear.

To better understand it, we can use Ash’s dream in episode 10:

Ash is shown crying wishing for Griffin not to leave him. It is important that what Ash is scared of is mostly that Griffin might forget about him. This has probably to do with Ash’s mother leaving him:

This early abandonment made Ash feel disposable and unimportant. So, Ash’s dream materializes Ash’s fear of being left behind and forgotten by who is basically a parental surrogate.

So Griffin’s departure is in Ash’s mind nothing more than a repetition of his mother’s abandonment even if, of course, the two situations are completely different.

Moreover, Griffin leaving Ash overlaps with the arrival of his rapist which is what makes Ash’s life take a turn for the worse.

In short, Griffin left Ash waiting, but the place where Ash was supposed to wait became scarier and more dangerous until Ash couldn’t wait anymore. This is pretty much what happens in the pumpkin story as well and I think it is a pretty clear metaphor of Ash’s mental state up until when he finally decided to run away.

Of course what is even more tragic is that not only Griffin never came back home to help Ash, but that Ash’s fear of being forgotten became true and it was not Griffin’s fault:

So, in the end Griffin forgot Ash and never managed to recognize him. Actually, the only time he recognized someone it was not someone he loved, but someone linked to a traumatic event:

And the doctor’s prayers for Griffin to live for Ash went unheard:

What I am trying to underline is not that Griffin was a bad big brother. He was actually a wonderful one according to Ash’s fond memories of him. What I want to highlight is that BF is a narrative where parental figures fail their children and that Griffin’s narrative is a part of this theme. He was himself a forgotten child who had to take care of his little brother in the place of his parents and later on he himself, for circumstances which were not under Griffin’s control, left Ash alone.

Finally, when considering Jim and Griffin, it is important to highlight how their relationship with Ash ended up being inverted when it comes to who has to protect who and who has to take care of who.

Griffin’s case is the most obvious and it is underlined by Ash himself:

Griffin used to take care of Ash, but in the series, because of Banana Fish’s effects, he finds himself in the condition where he can’t be self-sufficient anymore and so Ash has no other choice, but to take care of Griffin instead:

When it comes to Jim, let’s underline how his reconciliation with Ash happens mostly because Ash is willing to risk his life in order to protect him and Jennifer:

Let’s review what exactly happens.

Ash comes home and Jim insults him and treats him coldly. Later on we discover he basically failed at protecting his son from the man who raped him. However, Jim takes a step to fix his relationship with his son only when Ash shows him that he still cares. It is obvious that the whole relationship is pretty unbalanced in Jim’s favor even if it is supposed to be the other way around.

Another interesting detail when it comes to Jim’s attempt of redemption is that it happens in this way:

He covers Ash’s crime, whereas when Ash was a child he dragged him to the cops.

This seems to underline how society is generally depicted negatively by the series.

A father taking his son to the police after said child having been raped is what worsens their relationship. On the other hand a father covering his child killing a man is what is framed as a positive closure to their relationship.

Let’s now concentrate on Ash’s three father figures within the series itself: Dino, Max and Blanca.

DINO AND ASH: CONTROL VS FREEDOM

Dino is basically a more openly malevolent version of Jim and just like Jim he is responsible for forcing Ash to both prostitute himself and to kill. Both ways in which Dino abuses Ash are well highlighted in episode 9 when Dino manages to finally catch Ash and forces him to do two things.

Firstly, Dino has Ash dress up for his own enjoyment:

This is coherent with Dino objectifying Ash.

When it comes to Dino’s objectification of Ash there are several symbols within the series used to convey it:

Dino petting a cat.

Dino taking care of his flowers and associating Ash to flowers in his mind.

Several frames focused on food which strenghten the idea that Dino sees Ash as something to consume.

Secondly, Dino forces Ash to kill Shorter:

As a matter of fact the point of drugging Shorter and to have him try to kill Eiji is to force Ash to kill his best friend in order to prove to Ash that he will do and become what Dino himself wants.

This is because all in all Dino and Ash’s relationship is a relationship made of a perpetual struggle where one side wants to control the other whereas the other wants to be free:

It is not by chance that the story opens with Dino having two of Ash’s guys kill a man despite the fact Ash and him have a pact about Dino not using the gang members to kill. In a sense Ash’s gang is an attempt Ash makes of making himself independent from Dino. It is an organization Ash has control over and one he gained by himself:

Of course this attempt is flawed because it has its roots in the violent world Ash has been living in and which keeps him from growing. That said, it is nonetheless an attempt Ash makes and it is indicative that Dino tries to immediately size control of this aspect of Ash’s life despite it not being necessary. After all, why should he be using two kids to kill an important witness? If he had not Ash would have not discovered about BF and if he had used a pro, the witness would not have managed to run away wounded and Dino could have had the drug back far more easily. However, he chooses to use two street kids and he probably does so because he likes the feeling of controlling Ash.

What is more, the dynamic between the street gangs and the criminal corporations that we see in the series can represent on a larger scale the dynamic between Ash and Dino. As a matter of fact the gangs are violent and seem to threathen the peaceful lives of normal citizens. However, they are also composed of people coming from disadvantaged situations and it is made clear that they are nothing more than weapons in the hands of larger and more organized criminal groups like the Chinese mafia or the Corsican one whose members are rich and accepted by society. So, it is not just Ash who is used by Dino, but all the kids in the gangs are used by a corrupt system. This is why it is fitting that toward the end of the series there is an all out war between gangs and mafia and that Ash is the one leading the formers and Dino the latter.

After all, Dino is such a dangerous and persistent antagonist throughout the series not because of his talent, but mostly because of his social status. If we were to compare Dino to Ash in basically everything (beauty, strength, intelligence) we could easily say that Ash is without doubt better than Dino. However, Dino manages to remain a threath up until the very end and this is because of the people he knows aka of his connections.

He manages to throw Ash in jail because he bribes a policeman and a judge. He manages to catch Ash because he makes a deal with the Lees. He has Arthur fight in his place while he is away. He manages to catch Ash again because YL comes up with a plan and because Dino knows Blanca who is talented enough to pull it off.

Almost every success Dino gets in the series is through someone else. Even, when it comes to BF Dino is not the one who invented it, but he simply managed to find the one who did and in this way he became the person nurturing said project.

So, Dino is the symbol of a society which is corrupted. It is the same society which let Ash get abused by the baseball coach without neither stopping nor punishing the man to the point that Ash himself had to kill him.

That said (even if it is objectively a point which isn’t developed to its fullest), there seems to be some vague notion about the possibility of having a better society and this happens mostly when several people from different backgrounds and factions come together.

The ability to attract people of different classes and situations seems to be something Ash excels at:

After all, by the end Ash has on his side his own gang, the Chinese despite them being formerly allied with the Lees, Cain who had nothing to do with the mafia in the first place, normal people like Eiji and Ibe, journalists like Max and Jessica, a former assassin like Blanca and (even if they do not have an active role) some policemen like Charlie and Jenkins. This is a pretty eterogenic group and its diversity has probably to do with the fact that Ash himself is a pretty peculiar character:

He is a street kid, but he has also been taught by extremely competent and overpaid teachers. He knows what it is like to have to struggle in order to gain enough money and he is also able to recognize a wine after having just tasted it. Basically, because of his own background, Ash is in a position where he got to create bonds with the most disparate people and by the end all these people (or at least most of) come together in order to help him.

Among these bonds there are two which contrast with the one Ash has with Dino. They are the ones with Eiji and Max.

As a matter of fact Dino’s relationship with Ash is disturbingly both parental and romantic:

So, Max and Eiji offer Ash a healthier version of both these two kinds of bonds.

When it comes to Eiji in particular, I would like to illustrate said bond with an example which has to do with a minor detail i.e. the jade as a symbol related to Ash.

Ash’s second name is Jade and we are told that both Ash’s first and second names were chosen by his mother. Ash’s mother is a character who is often mentioned in the narrative, but who never appears and Ash’s feelings towards her are never elaborated.

What is sure is that Ash has ambivalent feelings for his mother:

As it can be seen above he both excuses and condemns her behaviour and it is possible that he is simply left wondering what motivated her:

In short, Ash’s mother is an ambiguous character within the narrative and so it is the association of the jade with Ash.

On one hand when it is Dino the one who draws this connection the jade becomes simply another way he has to objectify Ash:

On the other hand when it is Eiji the one who does the jade becomes a symbol of the beauty of Ash’s existence:

This is because Eiji more than anyone else is the one who took a long look at Ash’s life and at him as a person, saw someone beautiful and gave Ash this positive feedback on who he is.

When it comes to Max and Ash’s relationship, it will be explored in the next section.

MAX AND ASH: LO THE POOR PEACOCK

If Dino is somehow another version of Jim, Max is one of Griffin with whom he has been personally connected since the beginning.

Just like Griffin Max is there to offer the example of a positive parental figure and this is obvious since his early interactions with Ash in prison.

Let us consider this possible easter-egg/lucky coincidence:

Even if it might not have been something wanted Bull whom Ash fights in episode 4 looks very similar to the only picture of Ash’s baseball coach we have. Being it the animators’ intention or not is not important. What is important is that both are people who were interested in Ash in a sexual way and who tried to impose themselves on him and that in both cases Ash reacted violently.

Let’s also underline that both times Ash is left alone to face a potentially dangerous person by authority figures. As a matter of fact Jim leaves him alone when the baseball coach abuses him, whereas Max decides to give up the task of protecting Ash and leaves him to share his cell with Bull. However, Max is quick to rethink things and even if he arrives late he is still able to stop Ash from killing Bull:

So, while Jim lets Ash become a murderer, Max manages to stop Ash from killing and he does so by saying that killing Bull would just mean for Ash to throw his own life away.

In short, Max has the potential to be a positive influence in Ash’s life especially when it comes to Ash’s psychological well-being. This is mostly because Max and Ash often finds themselves facing similar struggles and are often paralleled throughout the series.

For example, during their journey to LA they both have to meet their family whom they left. Plus they both have to solve father-child issues even if they find themselves in opposite roles when it comes to this relationship. Moreover, while Max is the one who forces Ash to go see his father, Ash is the one who calls both Jessica and Max out on the way their divorce is impacting Michael:

In short, they help each other making progress through being respectively Max a surrogate father to Ash and Ash a surrogate son to Max.

Their parallelism continues for the majority of the series and I don’t think it is necessary to explore it more than this, since it is obvious both when it happens and its meaning.

However, it is important to underline two things.

1) Despite being paralled when it comes to a key moment and Max being a mentor figure to Ash, he fails to confront Ash about said moment.

2) As the series progresses Max’s impact as a helper weakens.

1) The moment I am talking about is of course Ash killing Shorter. Ash himself is the one who unknowingly draws the parallel between what Max did and what Ash himself will do in the future:

Despite what he says here, Ash manages to forgive Max and recognizes that he was simply projecting his own pain and grief on him:

However, he fails to do the same when it comes to himself. It is actually interesting that the narrative avoids any kind of confrontation between Ash and Max when it comes to Shorter’s death. After all, Max knows what it means to feel guilt over hurting one’s best friend and he is one of the few witnesses of what happened to Shorter, so the set-up for a confrontation is there. I am not saying Max is a bad person or a bad parental figure, but simply underlining how Ash will keep feeling guilty about Shorter until his death and it is interesting that none of his father figures addresses the topic and the only person in the series who does and tries to reassure Ash is Eiji aka a peer:

I am also sure that if Max were given the chance he would have told Ash something very similar to what Eiji said. Still, the fact he doesn’t ties to what I am going to discuss in point 2).

2) When I say that Max becomes less impactful as a helper I don’t mean that he becomes useless. After all, he keeps investigating BF, burns Ash’s pictures telling him that he should not feel controlled by his past and by the end he manages to bring to light the truth about the politicians abusing children.

Still, as the series progresses, his screentime is reduced as it is his involvement in the main plot and his ability to face more and more dangerous situations.

This becomes obvious in the mental hospital arc which is a turning point when it comes to Max’s role in the story.

First of all let’s consider this:

At the beginning of the arc we are told that Ash is not a child anymore. This is fitting considering what happens in this arc when it comes to Max and Ash’s relationship.

I think this scene synthetizes the whole matter:

Max and Ibe go to the mental centre in order to save Ash, but end up being saved instead. In short, once again the equilibrium between a parental figure and their child shifts in a way that it is the child the one saving the parent.

This is also coherent with the short story Lo, the Poor Peacock which is used as the title of episode 16.

This story focuses on the relationship between a father and his daughter and how, as the time passes and the family keeps facing more and more struggles, the father becomes less and less competent in the eyes of the daughter and in the end the daughter makes herself independent from her parent and the family overcomes their crisis.

In a sense, we can say that the episode with this title marks a similar moment in Ash and Max’s relationship since after this point Max appears less and Blanca arrives to substitude him as a mentor figure.

Moreover, Blanca’s appearance makes a pattern clear. During the narrative Ash meets several authority figures who are willing to help him, but progressively they all disappear and give space to another one. Moreover, as the series progresses, each authority figure who guides Ash appears more detached from society.

As a matter of fact the first adults who want to help Ash are Charlie and Jenkins who are policemen and who ask Max to look after Ash in prison. What is more, they manage to have Ash released. However, after Ash escapes they basically disappear from the narrative and are not able to help Ash anymore.

Max is the second authority figure Ash meets. He is an ex-cop and a journalist who is ready to break the law when necessary. He is basically an in-between society and a world without laws.

Finally, the third authority figure who influences Ash is Blanca who is an assassin without a social identity.

What is more, as time passes and Ash is guided by each one of these authority figures he himself assumes in society a role which mirrors each one of them. In the beginning he is a person who is accused of a murder he did not committ, then he becomes an escapee and finally a deadman.

What is important in relation to Max and Ash is that Max represents for Ash the chance to go back to the normal world and the hope to be free from his past:

However, in the end it is not Max’s (or Eiji’s for that matter) POV the one Ash embraces, but Blanca’s which is far more pessimistic. This seems to be underlined by the fact Max and Ash’s relationship, despite being incredibly important, lacks a proper conclusion, especially in the manga. As a matter of fact the anime added a scene where Ash sends Max a message, but in the manga this is the last scene where we see Max:

He is seen worrying for Ash and is not shown to have received any news from him. This is similar to what happens to Eiji with whom Ash won’t talk anymore once the battle is over. In short, Eiji and Max who are Ash’s two most positive relationships are not given a proper closure in the sense that Ash avoids having a last conversation with them, whereas he has a meaningful one with the last of his parental figures aka Blanca.

ASH AND BLANCA: MURDERERS

Ash’s pumpkin story metaphorically represents two distinctive traumas: being left behind and being forced to commit violent acts.

Blanca is linked to both.

As a matter of fact he is the one who taught Ash how to efficiently kill and he left the child despite him being basically the only positive presence in Ash’s life in that moment.

When it comes to these two aspects of Blanca and Ash’s relationship, Angel Eyes offers some interesting details:

Ash is shown not to bring anything with him in prison, but a copy of Islands in the Streams which is Blanca’s favourite book. This clearly shows how Ash has taken Blanca’s abandonment pretty hard and how he is still coping with it. Actually, the whole side story can be seen as Ash slowly overcoming Blanca’s departure through creating a genuine connection with Shorter.

Let’s also consider this:

Ash has been trying to learn how to control himself and how to apply the techniques Blanca taught him in order to protect himself in a non lethal way.

This is not something which is only mentioned in Angel Eyes:

Ash is said several times to lack control and this is actually one of the things others are mostly scared of when it comes to him. In the series itself Ash comments how this is at least partially Blanca’s fault:

Blanca taught him several assassination techniques and made Ash even more accostumed to violence. Still, he left him without teaching him how to better control his violent tendencies and Ash has no choice, but to try to cope with this side of his personality on his own. However, he doesn’t have the instruments to do so and so he is never able to fully succeed.

What is interesting is Blanca’s answer to Ash’s remark:

He was not ordered to. This answer synthetizes Blanca as a character exactly as the title of his favourite book: Islands in the Stream.

This title suggests passivity and loneliness. These are Blanca’s two main attributes and they are immediately underlined in his conversation with Ash:

Blanca has a fatalistic mindset which his rooted in his guilt over his violent lifestyle and the death of his wife. What is more, when it comes to Natasha it is obvious that Blanca is projecting his own experience on Ash:

“I was surprised when I heard you went against the monsieur. I thought you had already gone over your past”

This is false. Eiji is not the reason why Ash has entered into a conflict with Dino. BF and Griffin and Skip’s deaths are. However, Blanca is not talking about Ash in the scene above, but about himself:

Him marrying Natasha was his first act of rebellion and it led to Natasha’s death which led to him defecting. He is seeing what happened to him repeating itself with Ash. However, Blanca’s whole pov is biased and is influenced by his own unsolved issues.

This is why Blanca’s arc is about leaving his own nichilistic mindset behind:

However, as he moves towards Ash’s mindset, Ash moves towards his, at least when it comes to Eiji:

This is tragic and it is the reason why in the end Ash and Blanca’s goodbye is bittersweet:

Just when Blanca has made some steps towards a more hopeful future where he can allow himself to have some form of genuine connection without feeling guilty, Ash has fully embraced his mentor’s POV. This is why Ash’s answer to Blanca’s request is negative.

Moreover Blanca makes it too late since he should have asked Ash when the kid was fourteen.

As a matter of fact Blanca tends to always be late.

He comes back in Ash’s life too late. He understands that Ash staying with Dino endangers Ash’s survival too late. He calls Yut Lung out too late, he goes to stop the Chinese guys from shooting Eiji too late and so on. He also joins Ash’s side at the last minute and waits for Dino to kill Foxx.

Because of this, it makes sense that Blanca, despite having a positive arc, doesn’t truly complete it because the person who could have helped him has assumed a pessimistic viewpoint thanks, among other things, to Blanca’s own influence.

What is more, Blanca coming into the narrative doesn’t only contribute to a shift in Ash’s character arc, but it determines a subtle change of focus in the whole series.

Let us consider this:

Here Ash is asking Kippard something important which could lead the investigation on BF to a completely new direction. However, when Kippard is about to answer he is killed by Blanca and this plot point (aka who is the person behind it all) is never mentioned again. At the same time, from here on out the drug loses its central role within the plot and becomes less and less important. If until this point Ash’s objective has been to discover the truth about BF and to make it public he will give up this idea and will have to deal with other problems which will present themselves to him. Finally, all evidence of BF is lost in the final battle and Ash’s hope to make the people realize how rotten the society really is is not accomplished, at least not to its full potential.

In short, Blanca’s arrival introduces a nihilistic pov and a shift in focus which leads to a somewhat somber conclusion thematically speaking.

However, Blanca’s pov is not the only one present in the series and it is not the only one Ash moves towards as the story progresses:

Since the beginning Ash and Eiji are introduced as two people who have to integrate with each other in order to grow. Between them, though, the one who is able to almost complete such an integration is mostly Eiji and not Ash.

He stops blaming himself, leads an assault in order to help Ash and physically protects Ash at least twice (when he acts as bait in the sewers and when he shields Ash from the Chinese pair shooting at them).

In short, as the story progresses Eiji is able to start developing in Ash’s direction, whereas Ash can only move some small steps towards Eiji.

These steps consist mostly in Ash learning to let his guard down around Eiji and in him showing vulnerability. As a matter of fact just like the only way for Eiji to grow is to face a violent world, to accept it and to come up with his own original answer to it, Ash’s growth consists in him slowly discovering that there is another kind of world where he does not need to always be aware of danger and to always feel pain and stress. However, the problem is that in order to properly and fully discover such a world Ash should try to live in it for a while and this is a chance he does not get. Because of this, Ash showing vulnerability becomes dangerous on multiple occasions for both him and others. Still, this has not to do with the fact that it is something wrong, but that the context Ash is in is wrong.

About this, it is interesting to note that there is some kind of asymmetry in Ash and Eiji’s relationship.

Eiji gets to go to where Ash is born, he meets Ash’s friends and talks Ash’s language, whereas Ash does not do any of those things and the narrative makes it clear that he should in order to reach a positive resolution:

Still, he can’t because of external obstacles linked to Dino and BF and once he finally overcomes said obstacles he has partially embraced Blanca’s nichilism which is at odds with Eiji’s optimism.

By the end Ash can’t choose between these two opposite view points and keeps changing his mind and flip-flopping between them. In short, he is stuck.

ASH AS JACK O’ LANTERN: STUCK BETWEEN HELL AND HEAVEN

The idea of Ash being stuck brings us back to the Jack o’ Lantern costume with which this meta started.

As a matter of fact, according to the legend, Jack-o’-Lantern is a soul who can go neither to heaven because of his sins nor to hell since he tricked the devil in order to avoid damnation.

In short, he is stuck between the two dimensions and can’t rest.

This is similar to Ash being stuck between two points of view until the very end.

At the same time, these two philosophies are not the only things Ash appears stuck between.

In this meta @hamliet underlines how within the series Ash is constantly compared to both a God and a Devil and how these opposite kinds of imagery end up dehumanizing him.

Similarly, the story makes it clear that there are two sides of Ash which strongly contrast each other.

On one hand Ash is a child feeling pain and crying:

On the other hand he is a person ready to kill and to commit crimes others would not dare to:

Ash is both and has trouble reconciling these two sides of himself.

All in all, Ash is a character who is trapped both physically and mentally. He is trapped by Dino and by his past experiences and he is trapped by his self-hate which is what in the end stops him from taking flight both physically and metaphorically.

#ash lynx #dino golzine #max lobo #blanca #eiji okumura #jim callenreese #griffin callenreese #banana fish #banana fish meta #rape tw #abuse tw #my meta

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darthstitch · 6 years

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Castlevania Netflix Season 2 Review: All My Bloody Tears

Yeah. Uh. SPOILERS. MASSIVE GINORMOUS SPOILERS. Consider yourself warned.

I'm kind of a complete mess as I write this because PAIN! PAIN AND SUFFERING! TEARS! BLOODY TEARS!

While it's not without its flaws, the second season of Netflix's Castlevania is incredible and lives up to the promise of Season 1. This, gentlebeings, is how you set up a sequel and leave the audience wanting more, but still walking away satisfied with what we've currently got.

The Good Stuff

The thing about Castlevania - as the game series by Konami - is that it's pretty much a patchwork quilt of everything goes. Think your favorite fan fiction peeve on AO3, the ones with the ten million tags before you even get to the goddamn story. So on one hand, it's got its clear inspiration from the classic Hammer and Universal Horror renditions of Dracula. But the game series is Japanese, so you have your beautiful anime-esque artwork by Ayami Kojima and the obvious anime influences.

I've played a few of the games, but I'm not going to claim gamer-god status. I just play for the fun of it and I don't hesitate to use walk throughs as a map of sorts, basically figuring out where to go, because the general castle layout is set up like a labyrinth and it is INSANE and FUN at the same time. So far, I've played and finished Symphony of the Night and two of the GBA ones: Harmony of Dissonance and Aria of Sorrow. I'm still trying to master the ones on the NDS. But basically, the premise is the same: You're the hero/heroine, you need to enter the big spooky castle, gather weapons and/or spells to make you stronger and add to your abilities, take down monsters and Major Bads - including Death Himself - and hopefully prevent Dracula from resurrecting and covering the world in Eternal Night. The main timeline basically has Belmonts, assorted Not-Belmonts who also hunt vampires and of course, pretty, pretty Alucard.

Then, there was your AU timeline in which Gabriel Belmont goes to defeat a Big Bad and becomes DRACULA ... and Trevor Belmont is his son, a.k.a. Alucard. Yeah, wrap your head around THAT one.

In short, Castlevania canon is fucked. To quote our Trevor, "Snake-fuckingly insane."

So Warren Ellis does the smart thing and basically picks up what works from the "canon" and crafts a damn good story out of it.

The Disaster Trio that is Alucard, Trevor and Sypha, end up bonding even closer together and spend much of this series in the Belmont Basement...er.... I mean, "Hold," trying to do the game equivalent of gathering spells and weapons to storm the castle with. We learn a few more interesting things about the Disaster Trio. Trevor actually ended up losing his family at a way too young age. Sypha and her people have some pretty "interesting" views about God. Alucard has artistic talents and basically acts his real age, which is a traumatized snarky 20 something year old, who's barely holding on to his composure with his shiny fangs and claws. There are epic moments such as "Treffy" and I would absolutely LOVE to hear the Belmont family story that explains how the hell a book of "penis spells" ended up in the Belmont Family Library.

Seriously. Fan fiction writers, don't fail me now!

Also, Lisa gets a few more minutes to shine and break our hearts at the same time. This is the woman who managed to charm and get one Seriously Scary King of Vampires wrapped around her tiniest finger. She's snarky and sassy as before, but so real, so kind and just basically trying to be a decent person in a Crapsack World. She loves her husband but she knows he can be monstrous. She loves her son but as Alucard himself puts it, she wants him to be able to be himself, be happy and not be overshadowed by his father. Seriously, as long as each season gives us something more about Lisa, I'm gonna be content.

We also get introduced to a few more new characters, who basically make up Dracula's Court of Evil. Hector and Isaac are humans but sociopathic enough to despise their own kind and willing to take part in their death and destruction. They both have their requisite tragic and abused pasts. Hector, however, has an element of naivete that makes him an easy target for the machinations of Carmilla, the only general in Dracula's court who's figured out which way the blood's flowing and wants to make sure she comes out on top. Isaac, however, is somewhat the mirror of Alucard himself. This is the guy who gives his unconditional love and loyalty to Dracula and refuses to abandon him no matter the personal cost to himself or his remnants of a conscience or whatever he has that passes for a moral compass. I figure that it's there, it's just not one that I would recognize. Isaac is a scary, scary mofo and it looks like he and Hector are gonna be back for season 3.

In fact, if Isaac ends up becoming "Death" in this entire series, I'm gonna be evilly delighted.

And then, there's Godbrand, who is basically the vampire equivalent of YOLO. Basically, all he wants is to fight, fuck, drink blood and make boats out of things he shouldn't make boats out of. Generally, he just wants to have a good time, rule the world like a king and make sure the humans know their place.

So okay, let's give Carmilla her due. Evil? Check. Manipulative? Check. Sadistic, vicious and cruel? 10 across the board. In the absence of a Certain Fanged Someone taking a more active role in what should be "The War on Humankind," Carmilla wants to make sure she's keeping things moving, spinning her webs of intrigue and plans upon plans, thinking she's going to come out the winner and make herself the new Queen of the Damned.

Here's the problem. Dracula figures that out, easily enough.

Here's the OTHER problem. His Fanged Nibs is all out of fucks to give. He's done. Finito. Finished with everything.

Yeah, about that.

While the humor of this series is a gift that keeps on giving, the drama and the feels will DESTROY you.

You know that moment when you realize Dracula isn't just waging a war on humanity, he's waging a war to destroy all vampires too? Because in that moment when he lost his beloved Lisa, he hated not only humans, but he also hated HIMSELF. He hates the fact that his life of evil, wanton death and destruction, wrought this price on the person that he loved. And she damn well didn't deserve that treatment. He hates the humans who killed her but he also hates his own kind, who are just as monstrous as he is.

So when Godbrand basically asks him, "If we're killing all the humans, what are we going to EAT?" Dracula basically tries to fob him off with some excuse or the other. Yeah, His Fanged Nibs is a LYING LIAR WHO LIES. Also, this lying liar who lies is actually spending most of his time sitting, brooding and being HUNGRY. Because he's not drinking blood. At all. Any blood drinking we see from His Fanged Nibs is in flashbacks.

Let that sink in for a second.

Aluard accuses his father of basically doing history's longest suicide. Yeah. It is - Dracula wants to take EVERYBODY down with him.

The fight scenes are worth the wait. I was screaming when the classic "Bloody Tears" started playing in Episode 7, an episode that I'm gonna watch like ten thousand times more, because OH GOD THE EPICNESS OF IT. The sheer badassery. The fact that Alucard is actually the secret identity of Moon Moon.

And then, the final fight between Dracula and our Disaster Trio is just as epic as expected. Even when he hasn't drunk blood, the trio is outmatched and outclassed and this is where you remember that if Dracula had only roused himself long enough to give a flying fuck about something, Carmilla's head would have been rolling on the floor a long time ago.

But then: "My boy.... I'm killing my boy. This is your room. Your mother and I painted these walls, made these toys. Lisa.... it's our boy. Your greatest gift to me. And I'm killing him. I must already be dead."

GDI WARREN ELLIS HOW VERY FUCKING DARE YOU.

The only way they take down Dracula is because he basically wants to die. So he lets his son kill him and end his misery. And when his rotting, decaying, corpse seems to be reaching out to his son for some kind of last embrace, Trevor, thinking that Alucard's going to be hurt, takes Dracula's head off. Sypha burns off the remains.

And it's done.

Castlevania is a game with numerous endings, all depending on how you played the game and whether you got this artifact or what not. The series pays homage to it because Trevor bequeaths the Belmont Hold to Alucard and asks him to be the last defender of it and his father's Castle. It's not going to be Alucard's grave, but his home now. Trevor and Sypha wander off into the sunset, for more adventures and mischief and Alucard lovingly sends off his BFFs with a fond "Fuck you."

We check in with the villains who survive and of course, we know there's gonna be sequels, because, hey, that's kind of the point of each and every Castlevania game. There's always gonna be a new Big Bad coming around. And trust me, Dracula's gonna be back. He's not just going to lie quiet in his grave.

And just when you think you can end this series with a satisfied sigh, our very last moments are spent with Alucard. Who is haunted by the ghosts of the parents he loved so much. Who gets to relive one happy memory with his mom, who loves him with all her heart. And she's so proud.

And Alucard finally breaks down into heartbreaking sobs.

We grieve with him.

The Bad Stuff

Yeah, okay, so I need to get this explained. Why bother to have all these interesting character designs for Dracula's other generals AND NOT HAVE THEM TALK? I'm serious. Not one of these fascinating-looking vampire bastards HAVE ANY GODDAMN LINES. Netflix, FFS, DON'T WUSS OUT ON YOUR CHARACTER ACTORS. YOU CAN'T BE THAT POOR. GIVE THEM VOICES. PAY YOUR CHARACTER VOICE ACTORS. OMG.

They basically just get killed off in the end, but while we know they were pretty scary and formidable, we don't really know anything about them other than: Vampire, Scary, Dracula's General. They were just pretty much Red Shirts, because the heroes never did get to confront Carmilla, Hector and Isaac directly.

There was evidently so much story to be told here, like they seem to have come from all over the world, even as far off as China AND THEY'RE. NOT. TALKING. The only ones with any dialogue are Carmilla, Hector, Isaac and Godbrand and none of these guys even get to share screentime with the Disaster Trio. Godbrand doesn't even make it to the final battle.

I mean, if these guys were just going to be cannon fodder, then let's just use any of the voiceless Major Bads from the games. Put some requisite scary music and sound effects and let the Disaster Trio take care of them. Let them speak in mysterious archaic languages or whatever, since we're not going to care about them anyway.

The Conclusion

Apparently, this is gonna be a pattern for this series. It's going to be good, it's going to be GREAT but there's always going to be that ONE THING that would drive us batshit crazy. But not enough to wreck my enjoyment of it.

The best parts of this series is the faithfulness to character, the layers upon layers of motivations and feels you're going to uncover as you rewatch it, the fact that it's not afraid to put tongue in cheek and leave canon at the door, while still being true to the source material.

So. "What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets. But enough talk! Have at you!"

#castlevania #castlevania season 2 #dracula #alucard #trevor belmont #lisa fahrenheights tepes #sypha belnades #lisa and her boys #sypha and her sidekicks #oh god my heart #all the bloody tears

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grassbreads · 5 years

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Why I think that Dirk was always doomed (thoughts on the epilogue and classpects)

Sup y'all, turns out I've got more to say on the topic of Dirk.

TLDR: i think that the route Dirk has gone down in the epilogue is the path the game always had planned for him as Prince of Heart.

Before I really get into the meat of this theory, I'd like to go through how I'll be interpreting the Heart aspect and the Prince class. Thankfully, Dirk's class is one of the ones that's been best explained in canon. To quote the wiki/Calliope, a Prince is "destroyer of [aspect]" or "one who destroys via [aspect]," which is simple enough to understand. Based on the information from the extended zodiac site and the traits exhibited by heart characters, I think that we also have a pretty good summary of what the aspect of Heart covers. Based on Dirk's powers, it seems that Heart has something to do with the soul/essence of self. Based on Nepeta and Meulin in general, I'm guessing it also has some connection to love. And, based on the extended zodiac page and Dirk in general, it seems pretty clear that the aspect of Heart has a lot to do with the Self in a personal sense as well as in a "soul" sort of sense. So, combining this classpect, we get Dirk Strider: destroyer of the self.

Based on what we seen in-comic with other characters, it seems pretty clear to me that characters' mythological roles manifest in two distinct ways: a literal way and a narrative way. Let's take John as an example. As the heir of breath, his classpect has to do with becoming/controlling wind/freedom. This manifests literally in his wind based powers, but also in a more narrative/figurative sense. He becomes the embodiment of freedom with his retcon powers, disconnected from the rules of narrative and able to truly do anything he wants, narrative consistency be damned. For another example, take Eridan: the Prince of Hope. He has the literal ability to destroy with the power of Hope with his wand, but he also serves as the narrative's destroyer of Hope when he turns on the others and destroys the matriorb.

In short, classpects determine more than just what powers a character will have. They dictate their role in the story. For Dirk, that role is the Destroyer of the Self. In the epilogue, Dirk realizes his mythological role in two ways. He destroys himself as a person, and he destroys the others as characters.

Dirk has always been the shining example of the Self-obsession side of the Heart aspect, and this does not change in the epilogue. I've touched on this idea before here, but in short, the act of becoming his Ultimate Self was an act of self destruction by meat Dirk. I'm not going to go over his motives for doing so here, but suffice to say, Dirk chose the power of the Ultimate Self over the identity of his individual self.

When Dirk is pressuring Rose to "open her eyes," Rose says that she is afraid the person she is on the other side of the process will no longer be her, and Dirk is that fear come to fruition. He has become the embodiment of his essence across all universes, no longer the specific iteration of himself that he was at the end of Act 7. In short, by "opening his eyes", the Dirk we've come to know and love destroyed himself.

This same thread of self destruction can also be seen in the candy route, where Dirk chooses to literally kill himself.

Back in the meat timeline, Dirk fulfills his role in another, less personal way: the destruction of his friends' characters. Meat timeline Dirk is a fictional character that has gained a sort of sentience and taken over his own narrative. He is aware of the fact that he is in a story being told, and his understanding of the soul/self changes with this awareness. In a narrative story, the Self is created through the way the story is told rather than through a tangible soul. Thus, Dirk begins to destroy characters (selves) through his narrative manipulation ability. He tells the story as he sees fit, trampling over ruining others in the process.

These effects can be seen all over the meat timeline, but Dirk's destructive power is most obvious in the way that he treats Jake. When he joins with Karkat's campaign, Jake's story is being told not by Dirk but by Calliope. She uses her narrative voice to urge Jake away from working with Dirk, but then she does not touch his story again until the speech scene. This means that Jake, behind the scenes, has been working with Karkat and Dave completely of his own volition, free of narrative influence. He's beginning to flex his muscles at being an independent character once again that can change and develop and be a force for good, but Dirk destroys all that.

When Dirk regains control of Jake, he destroys him. He ruins his speech and his image, making him make a fool of himself. He then fools with his mind, seeding him with a pathetic obsession with Dirk and ripping away any chance he had at real character development. In short, he destroys his character, his self.

We don't see the other instances so clearly, but I'd be willing to bet that Dirk has been influencing the others as well, crafting them into what he needs them to be and destroying the integrity of their character in the process. It's also possible that his influence had some effect on the candy timeline and the characterization there, but I have no real proof of that right now.

All in all, Dirk in the epilogue is Dirk fulfilling his narrative destiny as Prince of Heart. He destroys the soul, the self, the character of both himself and his friends. The Game has no mercy for its players, and though I desperately hope that we might still somehow see Dirk heal, I fear that this path seems to have been his destiny all along.

#upd8 #homestuck #dirk strider #homestuck epilogue #classpect analysis #invasion of the frogs

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terramythos · 5 years

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Review: The Stone Sky by N. K. Jemisin (The Broken Earth #3)

Length: 398 pages.

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Apocalyptic, Post-post-post Apocalyptic, Dystopia, Female Protagonist, Antagonist POV, First-Person, Second-Person, Third-Person, Gray Morality, Dark, Great Worldbuilding, Great Character Development, LGBT Characters, Diverse Cast, Trilogy, Perfect Score

Warning(s): This is probably the most optimistic of the trilogy, but it’s still not a happy series. Abuse/torture, slavery, graphic violence and gore, and major body horror. References to child death.

My Rating: 5 / 5

**WARNING: THIS REVIEW (INCLUDING THE SUMMARY) CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST TWO BOOKS. IF YOU WANT A SPOILER FREE REVIEW, PLEASE READ MY FIFTH SEASON REVIEW (X), OR, BETTER YET, JUST READ THE SERIES.**

My Summary:

The reckoning of the world has come. Essun, who has lived a life of suffering and loss, finally has a home to call her own. But she is one of the last living humans who can harness The Obelisk Gate and return the Moon to the world, finally quelling Father Earth’s rage and ending the apocalyptic Seasons forever. She knows such an act will cost her life.

Her daughter Nassun, meanwhile, has seen that the cruelty of the world cannot be reconciled. More powerful than her mother, she seeks the power of The Obelisk Gate for another purpose— to end the suffering of others, forever.

And finally, Hoa reveals the origins of himself and the other stone eaters— the immortal, humanoid statues who have their own stakes and motives in this conflict. His is a chilling tale of a utopia built on the suffering of others… a cycle humanity seems unable to break, even 40,000 years after the Seasons began.

Does humanity deserve another chance? Only one will decide the fate of the Earth.

Time grows short, my love. Let’s end with the beginning of the world, shall we? Yes. We shall.

Minor spoilers and my thoughts follow.

Here’s my dilemma— this is the final book in a series, and I find it impossible to talk about any final entry without reflecting on what came before it. For better or worse, everything ties together somehow in the last book. In this case I’d say “for better”, because this book was great, and an excellent way to conclude a thought-provoking and wonderful trilogy. But nevertheless, I’ll probably be discussing the series as a whole in this review.

So, yes, this was a really good conclusion. Definitely not where I expected things to end up, based on the opening premise, but that’s not a bad thing, and it’s been interesting to see how the story and characters have molded and changed. Honestly, I don’t have some master plan on how to style this review, except by discussing all the different parts of the story that really clicked for me.

I’m a sucker for “fate of the world” type stories, and I’m glad that The Stone Sky finally takes this direction. It’s really something to see how far Essun has come. She starts as a scared little girl hiding in a barn and is now a forty-something woman with the destiny of humanity in her hands. You can see all the steps that lead her to this point, but there’s something truly epic about any story that includes such a level of growth. It’s been an often-painful ride, but one I’ve really enjoyed nevertheless.

Obviously, I have to talk about the characters. Everyone was SO interesting. Even characters you were supposed to dislike initially had fascinating development over time. Schaffa is the obvious example, as we saw in The Obelisk Gate, but that continues in The Stone Sky as well. In this one there’s a minor antagonist from the previous book who gets called out on her bullshit and… changes her behavior accordingly. Hell, the leading antagonist of the entire series, Father Earth, the force that has caused the death and destruction of billions of people, has justifiable motives.

And you look at Essun, who is generally a good person at heart, and some of the terrible things she’s done (which is ESPECIALLY relevant since the narrator likes to see the best in her). Her daughter Nassun fills the “destroy the world” role, but even her motivations for doing so come from a place of compassion. It’s… interesting, to say the least. And that’s not to say that there aren’t minor characters who are pretty awful the whole time, but those are noticeably the irredeemable bigots, which makes sense for the type of story being told here.

You know what I mentioned in my Obelisk Gate review (x) about gray morality? Yeah. Everyone major is a complex character. Who knew?

As for specifics, I already named most of my favorite characters in my Obelisk Gate review, and that pretty much continues here. There are some new faces introduced (or re-introduced) in this one, but for the most part the focus is on an established cast, emphasizing how they’ve grown and changed over time. There’s plenty of examples. Essun, despite everything, has started to move past a lot of her trauma and open up to other people. Nassun has her own found family in Schaffa, but nevertheless continues to spiral down a destructive path. Probably the most significant development in this one is Hoa, our intrepid narrator, who finally reveals his origins and backstory. I found him fascinating because he directly states his motives several times, yet we don’t really know his intentions until this book. It’s been a ride back and forth, but I think he’s probably one of the most interesting characters in the series. He’s a far cry from the minor helper character he seems to be at first.

While the first two books had snippets from Hoa’s perspective, he becomes a full-fledged perspective character in The Stone Sky, and reveals a lot about the world and general themes of the story. This entry also humanizes him a great deal. We already knew he identifies as a human, that he’s one of the oldest stone eaters alive, but not necessarily what that means to him until now. Most of his story explores how the world got to its current, cyclical apocalypse-state, tied to the origins of the stone eaters. Despite the time leaps, Jemisin keeps it all relevant and interesting; it never feels jarring to switch between disparate perspectives. That’s true for the other books as well, and I think it speaks quite well of her writing. One really satisfying part about Hoa’s perspective in this entry is we get an actual, canon explanation for why he’s narrating Essun’s life in second-person. Over the course of the series he lapses into first-person sometimes, or narrates in a very stylistic way, and all of that starts to make sense too. There’s even solid reasoning to the whole unreliable narrator thing! It was a nice touch to tie off the series.

This entry into the series also gives us a chance to look at long term worldbuilding. Specifically, there’s a LOT of slow burn/long con details about the world that we finally figure out here. One really interesting detail is the concept of “icewhite eyes”. Basically, it’s a rare eye color that’s commonly seen as a bad omen. The Fifth Season seems to play this straight; two named characters have icewhite eyes. One is the then-monstrous Schaffa. So, bad omen, check. The other is Hoa, who we figure out pretty early isn’t quite human (at least how we see it), and has mysterious— possibly sinister— intentions. So, check off the bad omen there, right? Except BOTH of these characters develop in unexpected ways. Schaffa becomes— of all things— a strong father figure for Nassun. Hoa is, well, Hoa, and full of spoilers, but it should be obvious by now he’s a pretty complex guy. Finally, in The Stone Sky, we learn where the negative beliefs about icewhite eyes come from, and it is… well, pretty fucked. It’s obviously allegorical, but the reader doesn’t really get the extent of it until this book, which makes it all the more insidious. It ties wonderfully to the anti-bigotry, anti-oppression themes of the novel, and does so by completely playing the reader.

This is just one example of many, and I’m willing to bet this series is a fun one to re-read due to all the future context. But now to focus on things that generally apply to the series, rather than something this book in particular focuses on.

Generally speaking, there are things about the world that I really like, now that I’ve had three books to consider them. One big thing that played with my expectations was orogeny as a concept; for all intents and purposes it feels like this world’s version of magic. But as the series goes on you learn orogeny isn’t magic at all; just an evolutionary trait future humans picked up (I mean, the term “oroGENE” implies this, but…). Not only that, but traditional magic does exist, and is very relevant to the story. The stone eaters were also super interesting. They were way different than most generic “fantasy races,” and getting their backstory in this entry made them even more compelling to me. They’re uncanny and sort of creepy at first, but the more you learn about them the more explainable their behavior becomes.

I’ve talked so much about the things I like about the series that I’ve neglected to mention the writing itself… it’s very good. Exquisite, even. I’m not sure how else to describe it— Hoa has a very strong voice— humorous (often bitterly) and cognizant of the little details. I loved the fun poetic bits that experiment with typeface and line breaks. There’s even a part where The Important Words Were Capitalized, which felt so natural with how people type now that I’m surprised I haven’t seen it much in literary works. The trilogy was very fun to read based purely on the writing. Even if it had been lacking in content, which it wasn’t, I think I still would have enjoyed it purely for the craft.

Certain themes are omnipresent in this series, and there were several that really struck a chord with me. Obviously, the cycles of oppression the characters face are allegorical to the real world. One thing I REALLY like about this series is how much it defends the downtrodden, something I feel mainstream fantasy often fails to do. So many series seem to WANT an oppressed class in their fantasy world, then are completely apathetic to what that means, or don’t bother to challenge the issues such an inclusion brings. It’s like “oh, well, this happens in the real world, so I should have some sort of allegory for racism/sexism/homo/transphobia”. Not so here— The Broken Earth is about the full implications of oppression and why it’s so wrong, why it’s so unjust. The Fifth Season’s dedication reads “For all those who have to fight for the respect that everyone else is given without question” and honestly that was the point I knew this series and I were going to click. Just because we are looking through a fantasy lens does not make these things any less horrible or ugly, and I’m glad the series takes such a strong stance against dehumanization and oppression.

Another overarching theme I was surprised impacted me so much was that of parenthood. A character early in the series says “Children will be the ruin of us.” It’s a haunting line in context, and thematically it sticks through the rest of the series. Essun’s motherhood is a central part of her character— striking because initially she has no desire to be a mother. She is, arguably, not even a very good mother in the traditional sense— but her protectiveness of her children ultimately defines a lot of the story. It’s hard to go into detail without broaching major spoiler territory, but it’s a consistent and heart-wrenching theme that persists all the way to the end. That particular line is literal for many, many events in the story.

I discussed representation in my previous reviews, so I won’t retread that much, but stories like this prove just how easy it is (and should be) to be inclusive. It makes sense that the cast is so diverse in this series, because it is very much about the oppressed and the issues they face. Wouldn’t make any sense to have that central concept, then focus on a bunch of straight white guys. But that being said, I think this series is a great example of how writing can be better in terms of representation. This is the only fantasy series I’ve ever read where the main protagonist is a 40-something black mother. And there should be much, much more out there. Since getting into this series I’ve found myself looking critically at a lot of mainstream entertainment, and its failure to represent minority groups beyond a few token characters. It was a problem I was aware of, but this series makes it look so easy that I find myself even more annoyed that most people don’t bother.

I’m not going to lie— The Broken Earth is a pretty bleak series. A lot of really horrible shit happens to the main cast. Hell, the opening premise is that (a) a toddler was murdered by his father, and (b) the world is about to end forever, killing millions of people. Most of the early content focuses on a brutalized slave class, hated by society for the crime of having a certain evolutionary trait. But the series is also about the small moments of hope that shine through despite these things. Happiness and compassion are worth celebrating, because they remind us that there is something worth fighting for in the world, no matter how hopeless and awful things seem. We see characters who are victimized and beaten down ultimately come into their own truths and find their own families and reasons to live. So yeah, it’s a dark series, but I wouldn’t have had it other way. I hope someday I can meet N. K. Jemisin to thank her for writing these. They’ve given me a lot to think about.

#god this was such a good series PLEASE read it #also i put so much effort into this review.. i don't think anyone will read it because Spoilers. but.#taylor reviews #taylor reads #5/5

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

Text

Gentle Rain (Part Three)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Author: Gumnut

20-21 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 2522

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: This is for @scribbles97 . Thank you to all my wonderful readers and supporters who continue to help me create more and more stories. I’m having the time of my life, you guys are wonderful :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“Doctor Harris..uh...”

His face had shuttered the moment he realised he wasn’t alone and she oddly missed the openness he had displayed while speaking with his brother. He had very expressive eyes and they had said so much about the relationship between the two men.

Her voice was quiet. “I apologise for intruding on your privacy, Mr Tracy.” She swallowed. “Please make sure you continue to follow the diet your doctor has supplied you with. Your body needs the nutrients.” She should obviously back out of what was turning out to be an embarrassing situation for the both of them. She hardly knew this man or his brother, and she had just witnessed a very private conversation. Kayo had been willing to allow her to contact him to check on his recovery. She doubted she would approve of such an invasion of privacy.

“Scott.” He was sitting up a little straighter. “Call me Scott.”

She blinked. “Em.”

And another odd silence descended.

He was hard to read. Before, when Virgil had been in the room, his eyes had said everything. From anger to frustration to fondness. The men had argued, but there had been depth to that argument. They had understood each other perfectly. The darker haired brother so obviously sincere when he offered Scott whatever he could provide and the layers of meaning in Scott’s apology spoke of a long history of such arguments..

Now, the man may as well have been Vulcan. Every movement of his face was considered, every wrinkle precisely aimed. The smile was gone, and in its stead lay a controlled calm.

This wasn’t Scott Tracy. This was the Commander of International Rescue.

Well, she could handle that.

“I just wanted to check on your progress. Make sure you hadn’t undone any of my hard work.”

“Well, be reassured, Doctor, I’m back in one piece and well on the way to recovery.”

Her title rather than her name. He was formalising, attempting to push her away from things she should never have seen. She should respect that.

She should.

“How long ago was Virgil injured?”

That shook him. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s favouring his right side.”

His eyes widened, his concern directing immediately to his brother. “Six months.”

“Severity?”

“Severe.” Reluctant to reveal details, of course. Didn’t matter, she could make a good guess just by observing the man.

“How many ribs broken?”

Those blue eyes narrowed. “Almost all down his right side.”

She winced internally. Bloody hell. “Has he had any follow up recently?”

“He should have. I’ll speak to him.”

With that expression on his face, she had no doubt he would. She may find herself apologising to Virgil in the near future. “Make sure he gets checked out. The ribs could still be vulnerable to strain depending on the original injury.” Hell, the man had been shifting brickwork while strapped into a metal skeleton. She would check him out herself if she got the chance.

“Thank you.” And his eyes were suddenly open to her. “For everything. I have no doubt, I could have died in that hole if you hadn’t been there.”

She smiled just slightly at him. “I was just returning the favour.”

He frowned. “Have you been rescued before?”

She had to admit the question took her off guard and she was forced to look away for just a second. “Uh, no, no I haven’t. I was referring to the world at large. We all owe you and your brothers more than we can ever repay.”

It was his turn to look away and, to her surprise, he even flushed a little. “Someone needs to do it.”

“Yes, but you stepped up.”

“It was our father’s project.”

Yes, everyone knew about the great Jeff Tracy. “But it is you and your brothers who are on the front line.”

“As I said, someone has to do it.” He took in a breath and tilted his head. “Enough about me, you obviously know a great deal already, yet I know very little about you.”

Well, she guessed she had asked for that. “What would you like to know?”

He shrugged. “Where are you from?”

“I’m Australian. Grew up south of here, in Margaret River. You?”

“Kansas. And various other places.” He raised an eyebrow. “Occupation?”

“Doctor, but you knew that. Speciality, orthopaedic surgery.” And she saw the light bulb click above his head. “And yes, that is why I noticed your brother’s injury.” She smiled. “And you?”

“Pilot.” She saw it in his eyes. “And rescue operative, with a little Air Force on the side.”

“You make it sound like fast food.”

To her surprise, he grinned. “Oh, it’s fast alright.”

“I gather you like things that go fast?”

“The faster the better.”

“Uh-huh. Is a Lachie Dart fast enough for you?”

“An L-Dart? Oh, I got my hands on one of those back in training. Smart little craft.” He frowned. “You flown?”

She snorted. “Uh, no, my Dad was in the Australian Air Force. He was the Leader of a squadron of L-Darts. Loved them and let us know repeatedly. Made for a plane filled childhood.”

“I can relate to that. Though on top of the planes came space.” She saw his mind drift back, his expression kind of sad.

“So you come by it honestly?”

“Oh, yes.” The sadness was hovering, but he appeared to shake himself. “What about you? Brothers? Sisters?”

She hesitated. “No, just me.” She didn’t want to go there and definitely not with this man.

His frown returned. “No one at all?” The concept appeared completely foreign to him.

“Oh, I have an uncle in the States, but I haven’t seen him for years.” She shrugged. “I have myself and my friends. I’m happy.”

“That is good to hear.” He suddenly frowned. “Why are you still in the hospital?” And he was obviously trying to think back. “What exactly were your injuries?”

Off screen she clenched a fist. “There were a few complications, but I’m fine.” She was fine, really.

He stared at her as if trying to pry the information from her expression. She held her ground. She did not want to face his pity or his horror at what had happened to her. It had been her choice, not his.

It was obvious he knew she wasn’t telling him something. “If there is anything I can do, let me know.” He paused, his eyes intensely blue. “I owe you one.”

There was no answer to that. The man was a billionaire, but she wouldn’t ask him for anything. Except...

“Okay, I’ll ask you for one thing.”

His eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected her to take him up on it so readily. “What?”

“You get bored here, you ping me.”

His eyes narrowed.

She sighed. Being a celebrity must suck big time. “I’m not looking for your secrets. I’m not going to sell you out to the press. Get Kayo to check me out, I promise. You can have my credit card to hold for ransom, if you like. I just want to make sure you are okay. And besides, you’re not the only bored person in this hospital. I can only read so much, and the holoreception here is clunky.”

Those blue eyes looked away for a moment considering. They flashed back at her. “Agreed.”

She smiled just a little. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” A pause. “And I hope you get well soon.” Still suspicious.

“I’m planning on it.” She had the irrational urge to reach out and touch his face. “Now rest, Scott.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Doctor.”

“It’s Em. Or I will start calling you Commander.”

“Yes, Em.”

She smirked. “Now you’re talking. Rest. I’ll speak to you soon.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I have no doubt that the moment you wake up next, boredom will set in immediately.”

“You don’t know me that well.”

“I don’t have to. You are predictable.”

“What?”

She laughed. “Go and rest. I’ve got a nurse nagging me. Speak to you soon.” The expression on his face was worth the risk of never speaking to him again as she cut the signal. The blank screen left an empty space.

She looked up at Kayo. “Thank you so much for allowing this.”

A hand landed gently on her upper arm. “Not a problem.” She appeared thoughtful. “Now tell me more about Virgil favouring his right side.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil threw himself into the elevator and leant against the wall. It took him a moment to realise that, yes, he had to press a button to make the machinery move. A sigh and he hit the residential level button with a thump.

Mountain rescues were unnerving. This hadn’t been the first one since his accident, but it had been at a similar height with similar land features, and he had spent the entire mission expecting the mountain to fall on him.

He screwed his eyes shut and let his head drop back against the metal wall as the elevator rose. He was aching again. Everything had healed, but it continued to remind him that yes, he had ripped his side open and done some serious damage and no, he wasn’t completely one hundred percent and probably never would be again.

He hated it. It cramped his style.

The car slid to a smooth stop and the engineer in the back of his mind admired Brains’ design as he always did.

The doors slid open to reveal Kayo standing with her hands on her hips. She was still wearing that summer dress he so adored. The material hugged her figure in just the right places, soft and feminine. God, she was so beautiful.

And she was frowning.

Uh oh.

“What have I done?” His tired mind tried to flip back through recent events, landed in snow and got stuck. “No, actually, don’t tell me yet. I need a shower first.” He pushed himself off the wall and held back a groan.

“How long has it been hurting?”

He froze. “What?”

“Your injury.”

He let his shoulders sag. “Never stopped.” A sigh. “It’s fine. I can handle it.” He forced himself to straighten and moved to step past her.

Her hand on his chest stopped him, her left hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Despite himself, he leant into her touch. “It’s nothing, love, I promise. A little ache is all.”

The hand on his chest slipped under the right side of his rib cage and pressed.

He flinched away with an indrawn breath.

Damn.

“Tell me that again, Virgil.”

He closed his eyes. “Okay, perhaps I over did it in Perth.”

“Uh huh.”

“What was I supposed to do. You were under a building. Scott was under a building. I-“ He stopped. “Can I have my shower now?”

She stood up on her toes and kissed him fully on his lips, her arms going around his neck and drawing him in close. He went willingly. “You can, but I’m coming with you.”

He hummed approval, kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheekbone and her mouth yet again.

“But don’t get your hopes up. I’m planning to examine exactly what you’ve done to yourself and then you’re going to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Perhaps he could persuade her otherwise. But another twinge from his side had him sagging again. Who was he kidding?

Her hand brushed his cheek again. “C’mon, love.” She took his hand and led him to their rooms. She stood over him as he shed his uniform, and ran the shower to the perfect temperature. She frowned as her eyes caught sight of his rib cage, but she didn’t say anything further, simply pushing him gently towards the spray.

She left him there and honestly he was grateful, closing his eyes and letting the warmth soak into him. Soap and a clean, shampoo in his hair, the warmth seeping into his bones, his tired muscles. He let himself lean against the tiles and closed his eyes. Take the moment.

Snow rained around him and he flinched.

Damn.

He shoved his face in the spray, rubbed his eyes and turned off the water.

Kay was standing with his towel.

God, she knew how to be silent.

Cotton was wrapped around him and she dried him off, gently against his injured side.

The injury was still a road map of red lines and smudges all down his ribcage. The scar tissue pulled and was thick in places where he had re-injured the road rash from years before. His skin had not been forgiving with the second injury. It puckered and it pained, but he had grown used to it, figuring that it was the price he had to pay for surviving.

Her fingers traced over the lines, passing over numb spots where the nerves had been destroyed only to tingle where they were still active. He shivered.

She lifted his arm up and examined the lines on its underside. Seeing it all in the stark bathroom light impressed him as to how much of a mess he had made of himself and the unsightliness of the result. Her green eyes were intense as she stared at his scars. A sudden sense of shame washed over him.

But Kay was sensitive to his mood and looked up at him, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing.”

The frown deepened.

So he leant down and kissed it away. “I’m okay.”

Her hand landed on his left shoulder and gently pushed him back upright. “No, you are not. Why didn’t you tell me?” And there was the crux of the matter, he hadn’t shared important information with her.

“I didn’t think it was important.”

Okay, wrong thing to say. “My god, Virgil, in what possible way could your health not be important?”

“I didn’t think it was anything worth worrying about.”

She turned her back on him, flinging her hands into the air. “Oh, for the love of-“ She cut herself off, her shoulders stilling for a moment. He suddenly both wished he could see her face, and was glad he could not.

When she did turn around her expression was once again calm. “I will arrange for you to see a specialist in the morning. Tonight, you will go to bed and rest. No rescues.” She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. “God damn it, Virgil, if I have to wake up Scott to make it an order, I’m going to let him rain hell down on you for not telling him about this, too. Then you can feel guilty for stressing him out while he is injured.”

He shut his mouth.

So much for not important.

And then she was drawing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair. “I’m sorry.” The words fell out of his mouth, even though he knew her response.

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again.” Her voice was muffled up against his chest, her breath warm on his skin. He closed his eyes.

-o-o-o-

End Part Three

Part Four

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #virgil/kayo #kayo kyrano #original character #warm rain

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feynites · 7 years

Note

I'm so thirsty for a Gen Lavellan x Fen'Sulahn AU...

Ireth’s death is a calamity that reminds Lavellan of the endof the world.

It is not the same scope, of course. One person, one clan,versus an unfathomable number? The scales could never compare. But then, shehad never really been able to process the loss in a way befitting the scope ofit anyhow. People, she had learned, generally are not built to fathom thatscale of tragedy. So, she had mourned it in the sense of losing everyone andeverything she knew.

And now she has lost nearly as much all over again.

Most of their clan is dead. Killed by Ireth herself, in thethroes of her madness. Those others who have survived, have largely scattered.Haninan has vanished into the mountains, grief-stricken and unwilling to befound, and given all that has happened, Lavellan cannot blame him. She thinksthat the two of them, herself and June, could probably find him. That he wouldlet them, if they came. But June refuses to go looking. He is convinced thattheir father must hate him, for killing Ireth.

Killing their mother.

Lavellan finds herself marvelling at her brother, when shecan spare the thought for it. He loved their mother, as surely as she did. Assurely as Haninan did, too. She has no doubts on that front. But she andHaninan, they could not have done it. She had helped to contain and even tofight Ireth, but in the end, it had been Solas all over again, for her part init. Even knowing that she needed tostop her mother, she could not bring herself to end it.

But June had.

Lavellan is not sure what kind of strength that is. Juneseems to fear that is something which makes him a worse person, but after allshe has seen and done, she cannot think so herself. And she tries her best totell him that, in the wake of their grief.

It is… hard. It has been a long time since she has had tonavigate the world without a Mother and Keeper to guide her. Without Haninan,or the clan. There is a lot of mourning to do. A lot of faces and voices tomiss, but it is even harder for June, who has never before seen people astemporary. Who cannot think to himself theylived for hundreds of years, they were happy, they had good lives. Becausein June’s world, there is nothing else to compare it to.

They bury Ireth together. Plant seedlings over the turnedearth, and weep against one another. The absence of their mother feels as grandand impossible as Ireth herself had been.

The fight had taken place in a valley, near to the campsitesof some of the Allied Elves. Those of the burgeoning empire, who march underthe banners of Elgar’nan and Mythal. Lavellan is unsure what to make of them,truth be told. They are Olwyn’s parents. They are first reference she has forhow truly far back Olwyn managed to send her spinning through time; Lavellan isolder than Mythal, which takes her aback when she realizes it. Older than Olwyn’sancient mother. And now this woman and her twin-soul husband build cities andestablish fortresses, and war with other clans, and appoint their children asleaders of their armies.

The elves who come to them in the wake of Ireth’s death arefriendly, though. They exclaim of June’s phenomenal transformation, and becomeeven more excited when he confirms that he is Waking-born. The son of a Keeper,true, but it is almost unheard of for even Keepers’ children to becomefull-blown dragons.

Lavellan does not mention what she suspects – that, havingdone it under the circumstances which he did, June will never manage thattransformation again, either.

Her brother seems at least somewhat mollified by having theaccomplishment celebrated. They both are welcomed into the settlement, and forlack of other recourse, they accept. The elves there talk of The Great Empire.The vision of Mythal and Elgar’nan; a uniting of all good and peaceful clans ofthe various ranges, to build a place where wickedness is routed, and the Peoplemight come together to share knowledge and to live in harmony. It is a prettypicture. But it does not exactly match the reality of armies and fortresses andobvious conquest which Lavellan sees around them.

She has seen empires before, and has never been given areason to laud the concept. The Imperium, and Orlais, and even the Qun and theChantry had been empires of a sort. In her grief, she could not help but despairinglythink that perhaps it was inevitable. Perhaps no place could truly avoid thecrushing wheels of expansionist visions; the bloody swath which the powerfulalways seemed intent upon cutting through everyone else. The settlement elvesseem genuinely relieved that Ireth’s rampage was halted before their lives wereforfeited to it, and willing to explain what they know of the madness of theKeepers. They think it is a weapon, that some of the clans of the far southhave devised in an effort to get peaceful clans to strike at the expandingempire. It only seems to affect Keepers, as well – those who can become dragonsby other means have, so far, not been susceptible to it.

It matches somewhat with the things Haninan had deduced, asthey had attempted to heal Ireth. That the madness was coming to her through theDreaming. That it was a deliberate, malicious thing. June shares theirknowledge in return, and the settlement elves seem genuinely excited to havesomething more to go off of.

They seem… just like regular people, really. People with avision and a hope for the future, who offer sincere remorse for their loss, andrelief at their own survival.

Whatever is really going on, Lavellan does not think theyhave answers to it. And, she thinks, perhaps all that is really going on isprecisely what seems to be going on.The world is still young, even if she has begun to feel very old in it. Thereis no weight of past empires to weigh it down, no long history of suffering andoppression to learn from. In that light, perhaps an empire does seem like anhonest, promising vision. Perhaps unity seems plausible. Perhaps the dream ofElvhenan began in much the same manner as the stories she had heard, growing upfor the first time – so long ago, now.

Olwyn had told her that it had all been good, once. Thatcorruption and poison, arrogance and greed, and the failings of herself and herbrothers, had sundered Elvhenan into chaos and despair.

Lavellan is not naïve enough to be convinced. But… Olwyn sent her back for a reason. Olwyn believedthat there was something she might be able to save.

And perhaps, if she cannot save it – perhaps June can helpher learn how to kill it, before all is lost again.

After a few months of recovery, the settlement comes underattack again. Lavellan recognizes the assailants; Hazard Clan. Scavengers andshrine-defilers, slave-takers and torturers. They like to target clans andwanderers who have lost their Keepers. June suspects them of being at leastpartly responsible for Ireth’s condition; their own Keeper is gifted in allmanner of strange magic, poisons of the mind and body among them, and they are distastefulenough to make for easy enemies. The settlement’s warriors repel them, but Lavellanand June take up arms to help as well.

If June kills his foes with uncommon viciousness, she doesnot see fit to comment on it. They die quickly, at least.

“They will have a camp, somewhere nearby,” Lavellanconcludes, when they are examining the corpses, afterwards. Ten elves.Well-equipped, and a few had been formidable enough to give them trouble. By mostclan standards that is a typical raiding party, but given the fortified natureof the settlement, a laughably undermanned group for a serious assault. Thefighting had begun when one of the settlement guards spotted signs of tamperingwith the outer wards, though, and ran into the party – not an intentional assault,then, but more likely a scouting group.

Which means there are more, somewhere, and that the plan from Hazard’s people was likely tolaunch a proper attack, once they’d weakened the outer defenses some.

June nudges one of the bodies with the toe of his boot, andscowls down at it. He has no weapons; try as she might to get him to at leasttake up a staff, June has always preferred to fight with magic alone.

“We will go after them,” he decides.

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“What, just the two of us?” she counters, and then nods backtowards the settlement guards – who are busy making their own assessments. “Wedo not command them, after all.”

June lets out an impatient breath. He runs a hand over hisbraids, and for a moment, he looks so much like their parents – Mother’scolouring, Father’s body language – that she aches. His gaze follows her to the settlement guards.

“It would be a risk,” he concedes.

Lavellan nods.

They are formidable, but they have no idea who is in therest of Hazard Clan’s party. If Hazard himself is there, then they will bebiting off more than they can reasonably chew.

Still…

She watches as one of the attackers’ corpses bleeds itslast. Unconscious, but apparently the elf had not been quite dead. Their bodyshifts from that of a massive boar, and into a more elven figure. Cold indeath.

She wonders what they had hoped to gain from all this.

And what does shehope to gain, now?

What can she gain?

June will join theevanuris. The thought is an unwelcome one. Her brother is… he is not whatshe would picture, for a God of Crafts, or for a great leader of the people.June is June. She loves him, but he has never been happy with himself. Neverbeen what he wants to be, and never been willing to relinquish the concept ofwhat he should be, either, in orderto make some kind of peace with himself. He is not a very good leader.

And in at least one timeline, she thinks, it was probablyhis undoing.

I cannot lose you,too.

“I suppose it is theirsettlement – it is up to them. We should tell them,” she decides, wondering howshe can fight this tide. “And then we should leave.”

June is taken aback by that.

“Leave?” he asks. “And go where?”

The bitterness in his voice is undisguised.

“We should find Father,” she says.

It is a mistake, and she knows it as soon as the words areout of her mouth. June’s jaw clenches and his posture goes rigid, the uneasearound him palpable until he manages to contain it. Bitterness cresting into arush of resentment so potent, she can taste it at the back of her own throat.

And beneath that, fear.

“Father does not want to be found, least of all by us,” her brother spits.

“He does not hate us, June,” she insists. “He does not hate you. He is grieving, just like we are.Mother would want us to mourn her together. She would want us to find him, notleave him alone out there, suffering by himself.”

“Mother would havenever thought that I…”

June’s mouth snaps shut before he can finish. Eyes brighterthan they should be, as he clenches a tight fist.

After a tense moment, Lavellan lets out a long breath.

“She wouldn’t have,” she concedes. Venturing a hand out tograsp her brother’s shoulder. A muscle in his jaw clenches tighter – but hedoes not shrug her off. Again, she sighs. “But only because none of us knewwhat was coming. She would not blame you, not for any of this.”

The bitterness sinks into her own voice, then. All thethings she can see coming. But of course, this never made it into the historybooks. Nor any of Olwyn’s accounts of the past.

“I do not want to go mourn in some ditch with Father,” Junefinally says, in a sharp tone of voice. And he does shrug her off, then. “Ifthe likes of Hazard’s Clan did this to Mother, did this to our clan, then I want their blood. This new group, they arefighting this battle. We should fight with them. Build with them. Make this –this vision of theirs into a reality,and get revenge in the meanwhile.”

She closes her eyes for a moment.

“We do not even know who is really responsible,” she pointsout.

“We can kill enough of them to make certain that whoever itis gets caught in the blast,” June counters, stubborn and hard, and wreathed inhis grief again. Like an impenetrable shell. Lavellan tries, but, that is theend of that conversation, it seems.

They head back to the settlement in stony silence.

The settlement elves are obviously displeased at the attack,but they invite Lavellan and June to confer with them on the matter – they havea fair number of able bodies among their ranks, but no lauded warriors inparticular, and no one with the experience of actually going toe to toe with aKeeper. June’s reputation seems to be growing, and Lavellan appears caught init as a matter of courtesy more than anything. But June has never reallydefended fortified ground before. He does not know the advantages ofstrongholds, or armies, or their disadvantages,either.

Ostensibly, neither does Lavellan. But she still remembersSkyhold. However long ago it may be – those memories are burned into her, assurely as anything. The firmament of her being. Gently eased, across theseyears, by the balm of a home that has now been shattered; and maybe there is atleast some use in that. Maybe she had grown complacent… no, she knows she grew complacent.

She takes over much of the discussions, until another voicefrom the past comes to rattle her.

“The scouts say that General Fen’Sulahn’s forces are thenearest,” one of the settlement leaders muses, in the midst of some debate overthe next move to take. “Iluthen can wing out to them and carry a message. Theyare quick enough to do the job, and Fen’Sulahn has units big enough that wecould simply trample these rogues once and for all.”

Lavellan freezes.

General Fen’Sulahn.

…Olwyn.

“No,” one of the other settlement leaders says, as shefights to keep her reeling internal. “Fen’Sulahn is moving somewhere inparticular. I doubt the army can afford to divert from their goal. Lord Elgar’nankeeps a force at Fort Sunbreak, by the old Broadfields campgrounds. They wouldnot be as many nor as swift, but they could probably spare more people. Weshould send Iluthen to them…”

The arguments carry on, and the name Fen’Sulahn is notmentioned again. But Lavellan finds herself struggling to fall into the flow ofstrategy and conversation once more. She lets June take his spotlight instead, onlyspeaking up when something seems particularly egregious to her; and when thesettlement leaders finally decide to call for Elgar’nan’s aid, she retreats tothe small guest room that she and her brother have been granted, and sinks intoone of the chairs there.

Olwyn.

Fen’Sulahn.

She is out there, right now. The Dread Wolf of legend. Thelover she could not save… and could not kill. A young general, now, leadingarmies and helping to build an empire of legend. The same empire that will seethe downfall of the elvhen peoples – the raising of the Veil, the creation ofmortality itself, the staging grounds for the world that would eventually beruled by so many other empires. The world savaged by Blights, sundered from itsspirits.

Home, give or take.

Lavellan closes her eyes and remembers. Soft hands. Warmlaughter. Sweet lips. Sad eyes.

She can taste ash on her tongue, by the time June comes andfinds her.

At least, under the circumstances, he does not see fit toquestion the grief that keeps spilling away from her. But she is not surprisedwhen he retreats from it, too. His own too fresh and sharp and easily called upto the surface.

He hesitates, at the doorway.

“When you were small, and you would cry… I always feltuseless,” he admits. Not looking at her. One hand resting by the door, his hairstill done in tidy, shining box braids. “If you want to go and find Father, Iwill not stop you.”

Haninan.

She does want togo and find him.

But Haninan is not the one who is falling into the hands ofElvhenan. Not right now, anyway.

“I will not go without you,” she tells her brother.

He bows his head, and lingers for a moment more. Beforeleaving, awkwardly, and without another word said.

She wishes…

…She wishes she was better at this.

Olwyn, she thinks.Why did you send me here?

She wonders if she will ever be able to stop asking thatquestion. But as always, her thoughts cannot provide much in the way ofanswers. Just more memories, etched in grief, and clouded by time.

Elves come to the settlement. They carry banners with thesigil of a burning tree upon them; the symbol of Mythal and Elgar’nan’s armies.But their armour is marked with flames only, for they explain that they arefollowers of Elgar’nan’s. That the ‘unified’ empire is already being split intodisparate and easily-managed segments. They do not have vallaslin – yet. Butthose who choose to wear clan markings all sport the same, eerily familiarpattern.

It is like being in a dream, in many ways. In dream ofarmies and elves with familiar markings on their faces, and a picture of thepast that is coming together in frustrating, foggy pieces. It makes her missHaninan even more dearly. Makes her wish she had his talent for puttingpictures together, for seeing the way in which things connect. Wandering clans,and ancient-new gods, and names of figures she has honestly never even beengranted the luxury of thinking sheknew well. Even living through history does not seem to make it any morecomprehensible.

Some part of her cannot help but simply despair.

Even so, she and June go with the soldiers who set out tofind Hazard Clan’s camp. The subsequent fighting is harsh and dirty, the kindthat comes from cornered desperation, but the Keeper himself is not with thisband. In the aftermath, though, she and June seem to earn even more acclaim;and the leaders from Elgar’nan’s contingent look at June with a great deal ofinterest. And though they do not project it, no small amount of wariness,either. A kind of cautious distance. After all, she and June may have aidedthem, but they have not pledged themselves to their cause.

Though more and more, June seems to be convinced that theyshould.

It is for her sake that he holds out. She knows that. Junehas never been alone before, never been without a community around him, andthese elves are not like their clan, nor their cousin clans. They do not knowJune as the child of Ireth and Haninan; they know him as a figure of might, andit leaves him desperate to keep hold of the respect he seems to have earned.

Desperate to please, but in a way that does not seem likedesperate pleasing.

Lavellan finds herself wondering how her brother can be soold and so young at the same time.

But when Elgar’nan’s people return to their outpost, she andJune consent to go with them. They listen to yet more talk of a glorious visionof an empire. Behind closed doors, they argue, because June wants to believeit, and because Lavellan cannot bring herself to. And because her brother iswaiting for her to leave, waiting for her to scream at him that he is a killerwho murdered their mother, and because Lavellan has no interest in levellingthat blame at him. But he cannot believe it, and so they linger, stuck in anodd mess of wounds and suspicion and shadowy, persistent dread.

More than once, she thinks of telling June.

Haninan knows.

Ireth… knew.

But June, she fears, would just see it as some new attempton her part to best him. Some new thing to come and lord over him. His motherwas a Keeper, his father is a genius, and Lavellan is a time traveller who hasalready lived through one world turning to ash.

And truth be told, she cannot stomach the thought of himrejecting her, in turn. Of him sending her away, and walking into this mess onhis own.

The confession goes stale, unspoken, lingering as a hollowknot in her throat.

The invitation to the outpost becomes an invitation to the outpost. To the fortress. To the verdant campgrounds which once housed one ofthe few real temples left in the territories, where once a tree of legend grew.A place that has now been claimed as permanent base camp by the elves of the empire.

Arlathan.

They go to Arlathan, at the request of Mythal.

The city is not yet so sprawling as Val Royeaux, or Denerim,but the obvious intent is there. There are walls, and fortifications, andfields they clear a vast line of sight for the armed patrols that walk thestreets, wearing banners of fire and trees, hares and flowers, masks and owlsand… and wolves. More faces painted than not, and here she finds the rankingelves do wear vallaslin. The properkind.

It is not so reassuring as it might have been. She remembersthe markings that had been on her own face. The wolf’s marks – fitting forsomeone who had so often felt apart from the groups she belonged to. Rememberssoft fingers, and remorseful eyes, and a whispered apology that she had notunderstand the true gravity of until much later. When she had found herself infront of a broken eluvian, short an arm and clutching at straws.

But Arlathan isbeautiful. There are gardens. There are paved roads. There is a palace, andthere are fountains, and archways grown over with shimmering blue roses. Thepetals fall and land on their shoulders, as she and June walk beneath them, andare met with an unexpected heroes’ welcome.

But all Lavellan can think of is Tevinter and Orlais.

And beneath her feet, the ground feels like a wound that hasbeen covered over. As if the streets have been paved to hide the crackedtexture of a thousand broken bones.

Mythal is as beautiful and as dangerous as her city.

Her youngest daughter seems much the same.

But June looks at Sylaise, at her strange, bereft beauty,and something clicks for him. She cansee it happen, even if she cannot quite understand it. June has had loversbefore. On and off, many flings, particularly whenever the clan chanced to meetanother. He would always make a point of trying to find someone to bed. Andonce there was… oh, what was their name? Jubilance, or something like it. Thathad lasted for quite a long while, though, before dissolving in one drunkenevening, when June had admitted that he mainly liked Jubilance because theywere, in his words, ‘a dizzy idiot, easy to please’.

They had not been dizzy or idiotic enough to let that slide, as it happened.

Sylaise, on the other hand, is sharp as she is shining, andwhile it is supposedly Dirthamen who wears the masks, his younger sister seemsto have made one out of her own face. She looks like her mother, in a carefullycultivated way that makes Lavellan think that she probably does not, actually,resemble her that well, when she is being less concerted about her appearance.

She finds June’s attention flattering.

June finds something about her enthralling.

Lavellan drinks a little more than she probably should, andwatches her brother entrench himself into things that she wishes she couldsimply pull him back out of. There are more arguments. And the more argumentsthere are, the more each of the digs their heels in; the more convinced Junebecomes that this is where they should be, and what they should be doing. Andmore Lavellan feels as if they have walked into the mouth of a beast, and willnot be able to walk back out against without bloodshed.

And then, Fen’Sulahn comes back from her battlefields.

The city holds a parade. Lavellan considers fleeing over thewalls. Something in her just… she wants to run, and find her parents. She wantsto ask for help. She feels as if she looks at Olwyn again, after so long, it might somehow break her.

But Ireth is dead and Haninan is who knows where, and Juneescorts General Sylaise to her sister’s welcome feast; and so Lavellan goes, onher brother’s opposite side. Making small talk with Olwyn’s sister, and feelingrigid and brittle, prepared for the disaster of setting eyes on Fen’Sulahn. Thesun is out and shining, as summer drags the evenings into long hours. Lavellanwears polished armour, and June wears a suit gifted to him by Mythal. Red andcopper and well-suited to him. It makes him look something like a statue, inher estimations, but Sylaise seems pleased by the results.

Fen’Sulahn wears red too, as it happens.

Red and gold, as she enters the party with her own brother.Falon’Din is still afield, but Dirthamen had returned with far less fanfare afew weeks ago himself. The siblings are an exercise in contrasts, as Dirthamenwears silver and dark blue, but Lavellan finds she can scarcely take note ofthat. Fen’Sulahn’s gown flows around her. She has matched her brother’s maskwith one of her own – this one shaped like the face of a wolf. Golden bangleshang from her ears, and ball-shaped pins dot her hair. Bracelets trail up herarms. Her freckles have been covered, with some spell or powder. Lavellancannot tell. For a moment, it is almost enough to hold the wrenchingfamiliarity at bay.

But then she laughs. Then she moves to embrace Sylaise, andthe scent of her is the same.

Lavellan does not shatter into a thousand pieces.

Her heart aches, and yet, for a moment, it almost feels asif some deep hurt has been soothed. That is the surprise. The rush of softnessthat comes over her. The sense, unexpected, that something long lost hasmanaged to return. To ease an incurable ache. Oh, it is Olwyn.

Olwyn – some version of her, some younger, freer self thathas not and may not ever suffer or do what she once did – is here. Alive.Breathing and moving, and introducing herself to June.

“…And this is my sister, Lavellan,” June says, motioningtowards her.

Olwyn offers her a smile.

“It is always a pleasure to meet those who are consideringjoining our campaign,” she says. Polite, and unfamiliar, but warm and genuinelywelcoming. Lavellan stares into her eyes for a moment, before she recollectshow to steady herself, and speak.

“Thank you. The city has been most hospitable. Though Iconfess, I had not understood much of its appeal until I saw you just now. Youare easily the most wonderful sight I have laid eyes upon here.”

She drops into a bow, as Olwyn’s lips part briefly insurprise, and her cheeks darken a little bit.

Sylaise raises her eyebrows, while June stares at her as ifshe has just grown another head. And Dirthamen seems mostly inscrutable behindhis mask – though he does tilt, just slightly, as if he has noticed somethinginteresting somewhere past her left shoulder.

Olwyn recovers first.

“Are you always such a charmer?” she asks.

“No,” Juneasserts, and shakes himself out of his surprise.

“I am pleased you found it charming,” Lavellan admits, asshe straightens back up. She cannot help it, though. It is true – in ways shecould not possibly explain. Some, not even to herself. But perhaps the simpleanswer is that it has been a long time. And all the bitter, twisting feelingsin her have never been so strong as the love she felt for Olwyn.

Still feels, it would seem.

This is not the sameperson, she reminds herself. And that is true enough. But she has noexpectations, she realizes. Her goals is still the same – to find some way tostop the world from falling into ruination. And so, all that is left, is toappreciate that one thing she would want seems to have come about. Olwyn isalive, and has a second chance. And she is beautiful, and Lavellan can scarcelytear her eyes away.

So she smiles, instead. Warmly as she can, and there, in thenext faint darkening of Olwyn’s cheeks, she sees the telltale hint of frecklesattempting to resurface.

“Gracious,” Sylaise says, breaking the moment. She taps ahand against June’s arm. “What a shame the warm approaches do not appear to bea family trait.”

June scowls, but then laughs when Sylaise does.

“Only a joke!” she insists.

Olwyn clears her throat, and draws her own brother a stepback.

“Yes, well – it was very nice to meet you,” she says. “Andthank you for the compliments, Miss Lavellan. I hope you enjoy the rest of thecelebrations.”

“Then I will do my best to,” she promises. Watching as Olwynretreats into the other gatherings of guests. Turning back, to find that Junelooks annoyed, and Sylaise looks calculating.

“I feel I should warn you. My eldest sister has an unluckystreak in love,” she says, pulling them into different currents of thegathering. Over to where drinks are being served, and balls of dancing lightcast shadow shapes and performances across the ceiling. Her shoes tap acrossthe floor; while Lavellan and June’s bare feet are silent.

“Unlucky?” June asks, unable to keep his lingering annoyanceout of his tone. He feels upstaged.

Lavellan resists the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“All of her lovers have died, so far as I know,” Sylaiseexplains.

That… gives her pause. Though, not for the reasons Sylaiselikely expects.

“How many?” she wonders.

“I count three,” Sylaise explains. “One was before my time,but our mother explained the delicate nature of that situation to me. The othertwo died in battle. There might be others, I suppose, but, none she hasmentioned. My sister does not have the family skill for keeping hold of what sheloves.”

Three loves lost. Oh, Olwyn. And our own story did not end so well either, did it?

Perhaps there had been something even more, then, to thefervency with which Olwyn had thrown her into this world. Perhaps…unexpectedly, there was some answer to an old and wearying question in that.

Why did you save me?

Her eyes drift, throughout the night. Always finding theiranchor in Olwyn. Always glancing over at the sound of her laugh, or the glimpseof her curls. Flashes of a red dress, until finally, when the sky is black andthe starlight is pooling in the gardens around the party grounds, and June andSylaise have disappeared off somewhere together, she sees Olwyn dancing. Alone.Moving with the flow of the music, and the whirling of the firelights. Lavellanwatches, and thinks of how Ireth loved to dance. Of how Olwyn had looked atHalamshiral, in the dress she had fought tooth and nail to wear, with her hairup and her lips painted, and her hands warm atop her shoulders.

She moves, and follows the music herself, until those hands areresting atop her shoulders again. Olwyn smiles, politeness but perhaps just a bit of flirtation in the quirk of herlips.

Lavellan lifts her and turns her, and they take up the stepstogether. A few errant spirits winging around them, as Olwyn’s eyes crinkle,warm behind her mask. She ups the pace, and smiles when Lavellan matches it.The shape of her mask gives her an air of mischief.

“You are a good dancer,” she declares.

“My mother taught me,” Lavellan replies.

Olwyn hums, and smiles through the next lift.

“Is your mother here? We could fill the floor. Sylaise lovesto dance, too.”

She hesitates. Grip slipping, for a moment, making the nextmove less graceful before she corrects it, and sets Olwyn gently onto her feetagain.

“My mother is gone,” she admits.

Olwyn’s expression falls.

“Oh,” she says. “I… I did not know, I am so sorry. I cannotimagine…”

Cannot imagine losing a mother? Lavellan thinks of Mythal,then. Strange, beautiful, calculating Mythal; who is building this empire. Who,in one time, did build it. And whatan empire it became – slave-owning tyrants and magical calamities and enoughdisasters to send the world spinning. Mythal, who could become Flemeth, whoraised at least one daughter who never had a kind word for her mothering. ButOlwyn looks as if the very thought of losing her would be as heartbreaking asIreth’s absence.

She closes her eyes, for a moment.

What do I do?

“All’s forgiven,” she says, quietly. Words that mean farmore than they would seem to. But, really, this Olwyn has not done anythingyet. “You did not know.”

Olwyn opens her mouth, expression far more hesitant now. Itmakes her look young in a way that Lavellan cannot really recollect seeing herbefore. But then someone calls for Fen’Sulahn, and she half-turns; and Lavellantakes the opening to bow, and duck away from the dance floor again. Hearthammering, and throat closing, and far too much catching up with her at once.

She retreats into the gardens, and wanders alone until dawn.Just hoping that the sun might bring some clarity, because she still has noidea what to do.

#general fen'sulahn au #quench the thirst #i finally got it done!!!#Anonymous

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jewishangus · 7 years

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that’s 3/7(?) post stolen-century fics done!! or, aka, episode 66 still hurts a week later and its nice to get it out of my system, again.

(as usual, the text is copy-pasted under a readmore in case you dont want to hop on ao3, but ao3 has bonus content, so i recommend checking that out!!)

“Oh, Jules - After you’re done, can you go check on Magnus?” “Your new apprentice? Why would he still be there that late at night?” “It’s a long story - do you want me to explain?” “No Dad, you know I’m rushing, I’ll go check, bye, love you!” “Bye, honey, love you too, stay safe!” “I will!”

“Magnus?” It was past midnight when Julia creaked the door open of the Hammer and Tongs per her father’s request. She hadn’t understood why he’d ask it - how long could the guy work? - but as she peeked in and found most of the room still lit, she knew he was right after all. “Magnus? You there?” It was only when she fully opened the door when she found him; he slept over the bench he was working on with a light snore, yet by his murmuring and fidgeting in his sleep she could tell his rest wasn’t very peaceful. “Magnus… Wake up….” “I’m busy…” “You’re not busy, you’re sleeping.” She laughed, and put her hand on his shoulder, this time shaking him as she said “Magnus, wake up!” His eyes flickered open in a daze, and he blinked a few times, gauging his surroundings before looking at her. “What… Did I fall asleep?” “On your first day on the job, no less.” “Oh… Shit.” He wiped his eyes, then stood up and stretched before looking at Julia again. “Have we met?” “I don’t think so.” She extended her hand. “I’m Julia." “Magnus.” He shook her hand. “Though I think you already knew that.” "I figured it out." She smiled. "You're lucky Dad told me to come check on you, otherwise you'd be here all night and still have to work tomorrow." "Dad?" "Steven Waxman? My dad? The one who runs this place?" "Oh, you're Julia, Steven's daughter..." He laughed. "Didn't put two and two together." She laughed too; and it was then, in that sleepy daze, that Magnus first fell in love with that laugh. It had a gentility fitting the time of night yet still retained Julia’s heartiness and spirit, somehow managing to capture her intelligence, energy, kindness, and unbelievable heart all at once - and, of course, it didn’t fail to express how ridiculous she found Magnus to be at that moment, to his slight embarrassment. (Embarrassment, the kind that flared at a stereotypical childhood crush, was a new feeling to Magnus - he knew even with the memory loss that he wasn’t at all the type to care about what people thought of him - but there was something different about Julia.) Magnus scratched the back of his head. “We should go.” “Yeah.” Julia turned around and started heading towards the door. “After this, I don’t think Dad will expect you to come that early, but time is still precious.” He nodded, and began to follow her out. “Do you have keys?” She held them up in her hand, letting them jingle around, before closing the door behind him as he walked out. “You do know the way home, right? We’re going the same way, so if not you can follow me, but I can’t help you find your own house.” “…” “Magnus?” She turned to him. He stood by the entrance, just staring in front of him. His eyes were wide, and expression blank; as opposed to his earlier sleepy daze, Julia then saw Magnus in a state of shock. “Magnus, you ok?” “It’s dark.” She laughed - less of an endearing, lovable one and more of a nervous one. “Yeah, it’s 1 AM. You scared of the dark or something?” “No… It just hasn’t been this dark since….” “Since what?” He looked at her for a brief moment, and she never forgot the look she saw on his face. It was pained, almost. Confused. There was fear in there, but it wasn’t fear of the dark - it was that the dark should have reminded him of something greater, but he had no idea what it was. And just as quickly as she saw it, it was gone, and was replaced with a Magnus lost in his own thoughts before answering her question. “I don’t know.” She froze, for a second - it was hard to find something to say after that - and then felt her hand slip into his, almost instinctively. “It’s okay, Magnus. I’ll walk you home.”

Since that day, Julia had seen Magnus around a lot, both in and out of her father's shop - Raven's Roost was small, and that was how it was with everyone - but any sign of trauma Magnus had shown that night seemed gone during the day. Her dad noted that he slept in a lot more than usual, and that he was never a morning person even when he was late - his work seemed sloppier, as if he was too tired to be precise - but besides that, he seemed fine. But she didn't forget that night - how he was still in that daze as she walked him back to the residential district, how as soon as they entered his neighborhood he led her to his house with his eyes closed, having memorized his address and the streets around his house as if they could disappear at any moment - and it came back to her every time she went out with her friends late at night. It was one of those nights that she saw him again: they had gone to the tavern as they sometimes did, just to hang out and drink a little; her friend Quincy knew the band that was playing in the background that evening, and had convinced them to come listen. Julia had gone to get them refills when she noticed Magnus sitting at the bar, an empty mug in hand; he seemed out of focus, again, but she couldn't tell how much of that was due to alcohol and how much wasn't. "Magnus?" "Oh.... Hey Jules." His words didn't seem slurred as much as his voice seemed heavy, as if he was more tired than drunk. "It's Julia." "Sorry, Julia." He put his mug down. "What brings you here?" "Just hanging out." She nodded towards her friends. "And you?" "You know..." He held up his mug. "You're here for the drinks." "Yeah." It was quiet, for a moment; but then the silence was broken by the voices of her friends approaching the bar. "Yo Julia, who's that?" Quincy peeked out from behind her chair to look at Magnus. "That's Magnus, my dad's new apprentice." She lifted the halfling up and placed him on her lap. "Magnus, the small one is Quincy, and the taller ones are Casey, Tess, and Jack." Magnus straightened up and put his mug down. "It's nice to meet you all." After their chorus of "Nice to meet you too"'s, Quincy hopped off of Julia's lap and stood next to Magnus. "Alone at the bar, huh? I know what that's like." Tess gave him a look of disapproval. "Quincy, you're being rude. And besides, you're not alone anymore!" "It's alright." Magnus's expression softened. "I know what I signed up for when I came here." "Which is why I can't trust you to stay here." Julia laughed; her nervous laugh, again. "Why?" Jack asked, his voice quieter than its usual hush. "He looks like he can hold his alcohol." "Yeah, but no one can hold deep-seeded emotional trauma." Casey blurted out, getting confused looks from his friends. "What? It was kind of obvious." Magnus laughed. "I never was any good at hiding my emotions. But you're right, Julia, I should go. I'll see you around?" He began to stand up. "Yeah, I'll see you- Magnus, don't fall!!" She held her arms out as he stumbled backward, clearly dizzy, yet he caught himself last minute before falling onto her. "Okay, you know what? We're walking you home."

After that night, Julia never really saw Magnus in the same light. She was always more concerned about him when she saw him, that was true, but as they were walking home and Magnus opened up a bit she began to understand him more. He was vulnerable despite his size and physical strength, but also kind, funny, strong-willed, and smarter than she thought; he was a fighter through and through, but he seemed, at that time, to be at war with his own thoughts. So she kept an eye out for him, but it was the casual interactions later - whether it was starting conversations in her dad’s shop or inviting him to go out with her friends - that really made her fall in love with him. She loved Magnus for his smiles and his carpentry skill and the way he gave piggyback rides; she loved how he took every opportunity he had, how he read books aloud to the animals in the park and was confident they could understand him, and how he always had a box of (store-bought, but still good) cookies at home in case someone came to visit. She never saw him at the bar again, but he never told her if he stopped going until the day she caught him heading over there. She was going back home as she saw him walk past her - still sober, but in that same daze, the same desperate look on his face that she saw when he told her and her friends, through the alcohol, just how much he wished to know what he had forgot. Yet she approached him casually - her voice shaking, a bit - and asked him where he was going, as if she hadn't already known. "Yo Magnus! What brings you here?" "Oh hey, Julia." Magnus shook his head as if trying to clear it. "I just needed a drink." She nodded in understanding. "Do you have to get one? Or will something else distract you just as well?" "It sounds like you have a plan." "Magnus Burnsides, you have known me for almost a full year; do I ever not have a plan?" They both laughed after that; it was a true statement, but so typical of Julia Magnus couldn't help but laugh. "True. How are you distracting me, then?" Julia thought about it a bit. "Have you ever been at the edge of town, where the cliffs are?" "Not yet." He admitted, knowing it was a popular spot but realizing going that far from home wasn't something he had done since he moved in. "So we'll go there! You can see the stars and the waterfalls, and we can talk or something." "Talking does sound less boring than drinking alone," he admitted. "Take it away then, tour guide."

They walked for a while, past downtown and the craftsmen's quarter and the edge of town and off into the distance, where the roads were gone and the only sound was the faint rush of waterfalls far below them, and it was a lot darker than the faint glow of the town, and they sat down on the ground by one of the cliffs and just stared, for a moment. And then they talked. They talked about not knowing constellations and about the upcoming election for governor; they talked about childhood and how Magnus wanted to get a dog; Julia told him the long story about how she met her friends and Magnus told her about his hope to one day find the friends he lost, about how the first thing he remembers from the past year is waking up with a letter from a friend he didn't remember telling him about his new home. He told her how at one point, he felt like everyone knew him better than he knew himself. But the subject changed pretty quickly; from there, they bet on who could win at arm wrestling and Magnus lost, they talked about what Julia wanted to do with her life and whether it was carpentry, they taught each other their favorite childhood games, laughed every time Magnus's stomach rumbled, and debated whether Magnus could have possibly gotten into college; but sometimes, they could spend minutes just lying on the ground, staring at the sky. They didn't go home until about 3 am that night. They were tired, and Magnus was the happiest he had been in a long, long time; yet he still felt a twinge of nervousness when he asked Julia if that was a date. "Yeah, I think." She seemed relieved, yet Magnus was a bit too distracted to tell. "So can I call you Jules now?" "Only if I get to call you Maggie." "Deal." He laughed, and gave her one of his signature bear hugs, and as she hugged him back, he felt the same twinge of familiarity whenever he was grasping on a memory, and almost faltered. Yet when he heard Julia's laugh, felt her breath on his face, he felt calmer again, slightly more grounded, and said: "Jules, can you walk me home?"

#eden talks #the adventure zone #taz #magnus burnsides #julia burnsides #alcohol tw #i hope yall enjoy!!!#feedback is always appreciated as usual #eden writes

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