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datawyrms · 4 years

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Ectoplasmic Bonds

Dannymay2020 Day 30: Family

“AHA! I have found you, ghost child. You are no match for my peerless intellect!”

This was weird. Not the ranting and dramatic posing in midair, that was just Technus being the weird little boaster he was. The fact he was boasting at a park with no gadgets in sight was the confusing bit. He’d expected the Box ghost or some random animal when his ghost sense rudely interrupted his Saturday, not the tech crazed monologuer.

“I didn’t know we were playing hide and seek!” His hands glowed green, ready to blast the second his foe made a move. “I know a great place you can hide though!”

“Playing? No, we are not playing hide and seek!” the ghost crossed his arms, almost looking insulted. “We are playing BASIC HEALTH EDUCATION, for your feeble mind is clearly LACKING THIS DATA”

“Uh. What.” Danny blinked, eyebrow raising in bafflement. Blasting the ghost would probably be best, but he hadn’t even taken advantage of his blank stare.

Technus shook his head and tisked at him. “Your cousin let us know about your RECKLESS BEHAVIOUR, ghost child! It is a wonder that you haven’t collapsed!”

“My cou-Dani? Wait why would Dani be buddies with you?” the green glow snuffed out, brain struggling to figure out what was going on. Was it April first? Was this a really complicated distraction plot?

The green skinned ghost tisked again. “By being as reckless as you! Young and thinking you are invincible!”

Well that answered approximately nothing at all. Yet the ghost did seem to be serious, he was getting the distinct impression Technus was scolding him. For something. Maybe he was just having a weird dream. “I still have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Your education is LACKLUSTER, child! How can you not know you are starving yourself? You are more a ghost baby than a ghost child!”

“Well excuse me for not getting the ‘ghosts for dummies’ book!” he snapped back, wondering if he should go after the ghost for that baby comment.

“Ah, ah, I am not fighting a half starved toothpick! You put those fists down, child and listen to your elders!”

He was totally scolding him, what the heck. “Ghosts don’t eat, what are you even on about?”

Technus put his face in his hands. “The youth of today! So uneducated!” Yet when he looked back up he just seemed more determined. “Fear is all well and good child, but it is no replacement for ectoplasm! The state of your cousin was appalling!” He seemed to notice how Danny tensed at the mention of ‘cousin’ and continued. “She is FINE thanks to our cardboard enthusiast!”

“Well uh. Thanks for helping her out?”

“It was AVOIDABLE! If you were not so reckless in hanging around over here all the time! Do you WANT to start falling apart from lack of ectoplasm? It is distinctly UNGROOVY”

...Was he actually worried about the two half ghosts? Weird. “Errr no, I would not like to do that, thanks.” He had enough nightmares from just seeing it happen to the other clones.

“Then you must stop AVOIDING returning to the ghost zone! You have not come in over a month! Perhaps exhaustion is a thrill to you, but you take it to RIDICULOUS levels! The cousin was quite WORRIED for you, ghost child!”

Dani had managed to set Technus on him for...not going into the ghost zone. What. That was important? “I don’t think I have to-”

“YOU DO! Do you think ectoplasm will rain from the sky for you here? NUH UH. IT DOES NOT.” He seemed larger, looming over the teenager as he pointed at him. “You might have a big battery but it will still RUN OUT. Then no more RECKLESS ghost child!”

Why did he feel so embarrassed? Why was he even letting Technus of all people chew him out? “Okay, okay! I get it!”

“GOOD. Puddles are very BORING nemeses!” He glared at the jumpsuited teenager for a moment longer before vanishing, apparently planning to keep his word on a lack of fighting.

He really, really hoped all this was just a very dumb dream. People had definitely seen the encounter, it was pretty hard to overlook two ghosts yelling in a park in the middle of the day. Mom would probably call it proof that all his fights were staged, or something fun like that. Not that the truth of ‘he came to yell at me because I’m bad at being a ghost’ was much better.

Mom’s pondering at the table in the evening shot any hope square in the chest. “I suppose they do look similar, colour scheme wise. I’m not sure it’s any proof of a familial relation though, there’s no real reason for such relationships”

Jack nodded, scratching at his jaw before adding his thoughts. “Maybe new ghosts cling to older ones at first before separating off to do their own thing? Phantom’s got some electricity powers, doesn’t he?”

“He does, they do share the tendency to never stop talking as well, come to think of it.”

It was very difficult to not respond to that remark. He was not the kind of scenery chewer Technus was! This was going to be a looooong night.

“It’s just strange. They’ve never shown to have a friendly relationship before now. If they wanted to take the town for themselves it’d make more sense to let Phantom stay ill.”

“Even ghosts want to protect the young of their species?” Jack frowned “I didn’t think the spook was actually a young spirit though.”

“True. Technus might only call him a child because of his appearance. Yet it did look like a parent scolding a child, didn’t he complain about the youth?”

“Well if we can nab one of em, we can see if they share or have similar ectoplasmic signatures! It could be an instinctive thing if they’re ‘related’ that way.”

Danny worked to suppress a groan, rubbing at his forehead. Great. Now they thought Technus was his ghost dad. All his dated references were going to be way worse now! He so wasn’t like him! The second his friends found out it was going to be their new favourite joke.

He never did manage to figure out how to track Dani down, instead getting surprised by her with a tackling hello.

“Does this count as a ghost attack?” he asked, smirking as the the ghost snickered at the question.

“I dono, does it? You aren’t fleeing in terror.”

“Maybe I’m just an out of towner that doesn’t believe in ghosts“

Dani shrugged before landing, taking a few glances around before shifting back to her human form. “Then I guess I’m a ghost that doesn’t believe in ghosts either.”

“New outfit?”

“Yup! And it’s all mine,” her grin was infectious as she grabbed the edge of the thick purple hoodie, fiddling with the dark lining that seemed to have a scattering of stars. “I don’t even feel cold in the zone with this on.”

“You know you don’t have to live in the ghost zone, right? Jazz can probably make up some forgotten branch of the family you’re from, or something.”

“What, and join you in tip toeing around ghost hunters that love and hate you at the same time? No way cuz. If I wanted that, I’d be with Vlad.” she paused with a frown. “Well okay, it was fake love but you get it.”

“Too well.” he shrugged, trying to ignore the rush of irritation from his parents being compared to that absolute fruit loop. “What did you drop by for then? Seeing as you sent Technus after me last time. Which I’m still mad about.”

“Oh you know, catch up with Val, enjoy some sunlight. Nothing big.” she rolled her eyes “I didn’t send him after you! I just mentioned to Boxy how you don’t go to the ghost zone much and I guess he spread it around?”

“Well thanks to that people think Technus is my dad!”

“What, he’s not?” she burst out laughing from the other half ghost’s full body shudder, ducking the half hearted snowball thrown her way.

“Oh you think it’s funny now, just wait until they start saying it about you too.”

“Nope, still funny! Besides, I already got a ghost dad.”

“You what.” he stared, but she didn’t seem to be kidding.

“Well after the whole Boxy making sure I didn’t drop dead from lack of ectoplasm thing a lot of ghosts kinda felt bad for me?” the dismissive wave of her hand seemed a bit forced. “Way easier to deal with over there than with humans. They knew I didn’t really have a place that was mine so they let me stick around for awhile.”

“I guess that was nice of them. You sure it isn’t some trick?”

“You worry too much cuz. You really think I wouldn’t have been super suspicious at first? Already did that once!” her glare made him blush, rubbing the back of his neck. Stupid question, of course she’d be careful after Vlad. “Being a clone with no papers is way easier in the ghost zone, so spending most of my time there just makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” He couldn’t imagine wanting to live in that green chaotic world, but he actually had a decent amount going for him on this side. Dani...didn’t.

“So yeah, basically got adopted by Nocturn. He helped me figure out the design, it’s reversible.”

“Wait wait NOCTURN? The guy who tried to put everyone to sleep to take over the world? That one?!” he sputtered, only causing his clone to laugh again.

“Yeah? Everyone likes to try and see how powerful they can be sometimes, did you take it personally?”

“Yeah a little! People could have been hurt! And he dumped me on a random rock in the ghost zone! Then tried to kill me!”

“Everyone tries to kill you.”

“Like that makes it better?! He’s a nutcase!”

“Or maybe you’ve only actually met him once? Everyone wants to try messing with Amity Park at one point. It’s just a thing to try, since you never really seriously hurt anyone.”

“Now you make it sound like the ghost attacks are my fault.” he muttered, quickly realizing Dani didn’t care if he wasn’t exactly a fan of the dream ghost.

“Well they’d come anyway because the human world is cool. Some of them are totally only coming to try stealing the town from you though, sorry cuz.” she shrugged again “Oh! Noc’s pretty impressed by your ice attacks by the way, but he’s still pretty sure Frostbite could help with a few things.”

She nicknamed him! “Noted. Uh. Maybe tell him not to do the whole take over the world and kill me thing again?”

“He won’t. One, I consider you family. Two, watching and learning from dreams is more his thing. The take over the world bit was more of a ‘sure why not give it a go’.”

She seemed so relaxed, even while his mind was yelling that she couldn’t be safe around a ghost like that. Yet she was the one who mostly lived in the ghost zone. She probably would know a lot of his foes better than he actually did...though it still rankled. “Well I’m glad you found more family over there. But I’m not inviting him for lunches.”

“You’ll have to be the one to come visit sometime! You have no idea how scared some ghosts are of you, it’s hilarious. They don’t know you’re a total dork.” She perked up when he stopped crossing his arms.

“Hey, that just makes you dork squared ya know.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Sure it does. Or not. I’d have to ask Tuck.” he managed to keep smiling, trying not to think too hard about why he’d be considered terrifying to ghosts.

“Or you could ask your daddy” her smirk was vicious as he let out an offended squawk, flinging another snowball after her.

“Don’t even joke about that!”

“Tooooo late! Bye cuz!” her laugh was warm and carefree as she fled from her flustered cousin, vanishing as she darted behind a large bush.

Probably off to go find Valerie now then before headed back home. Still, it was good to know she had a home to go to now. Even if it was with some ghosts he usually had to beat up. Family reunions would be a whole lot messier if she kept that up. Though really, she deserved any kindness she got.

He still wasn’t going to forgive her for the Technus thing though. He was going to need to brush up on dream and sleep puns for proper retaliation.

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #technus #dani phantom #Maddie Fenton #jack fenton #my stuff #brain: ghost adoption #brain also- DANI gets NOT GARBAGE FAM #because srsly she needs some #never have nightmares again with dream control dad #that's probably a plus #HOW IS IT THE30TH

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thecorteztwins · 4 years

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Alt-Marauders update! It’s pretty much the Shinobi Feels edition, so tagging @esteicy-blog in case you wanna read your boy’s bits (it’s fine if not!) and @sammysdewysensitiveeyes and @littlemeangreen since you guys are regular readers! CONTENTS “Weakness” - Shinobi/Haven “Instinct” - Sebastian/Madelyne “Nature” - Sebastian/Haven “Saturn’s Children” - Shinobi/Alice

”WEAKNESS” They’d been captured, and placed in a power-dampening cell. They being Haven and Shinobi, the latter of whom was wounded, deep in his right side. Their captors had stabilized him---they wanted them alive for now, especially since they knew that letting Shinobi die just ensured he’d be revived on Krakoa with information that could defeat them---but given him nothing for the pain before tossing him back in the cell. Literally. He did not hit the floor. Haven’s arms caught him expertly and with strength that would have surprised him if he’d been thinking about anything but how much this hurt. Not the pain in his side---but the helplessness. Shinobi did not like being trapped. Shinobi did not like being at the mercy of others. It had bad memories. Perversely, Haven’s comforting presence made it worse. Because that was part of those same memories. His mother, holding him like she was, asking if he was alright, trying to soothe the pain away. He’d treasured her as a sanctuary then, but the fact was that it always came after the pain, and thus tied to it in his mind. That was the only reason he tried, feebly, to push Haven away, even when what he wanted was to sink into her, to curl up against her, to let her stroke his hair and whisper comforting assurances. He wanted that so bad but he also couldn’t, wouldn’t, be that weak little boy again who needed Mommy, who needed Mommy because Daddy had-- “Shinobi, Shinobi it’s me,” she said, “It’s Haven, Radha, it’s alright, you’re alright, I’m here, I’m right here.” She thought the reason for his weak thrashing, his trying to push himself away, was because he was confused, disoriented, thinking he was still in the hands of their enemies. But he was somewhere far worse---in the past. “I--I know,” he finally said as he got ahold of himself, “I’m fine.” He tried to push himself up on his arms. The pain was terrible for his body. But it’d be worse inside if he failed. If he was weak. He felt her gentle hands on him again, “Don’t try to move, Shinobi. You’re still hurt. They only stopped bleeding, but the wound is still--” “Don’t!” he barked, “Don’t---don’t---I’m not a child!” As much as Haven wanted to pull him to her, she was as respectful as she was compassionate. If someone was shouting at her not to touch them, she wasn’t going to; it would only do more harm than good. A comforting embrace could turn traumatic if forced, no matter how gentle, and Shinobi had been traumatized enough today. But she did not merely abandon the issue either. She looked at him with sympathetically scrutinizing eyes as he huffed and strained in his attempt to give every appearance of strength. This was...unusual. Shinobi was someone who craved attention, and though he desired more for it to be praise, she’d seen that he would settle for negative attention if nothing else would do, such as when Claudine and Madelyne waved him away in irritation at his amorous antics. He liked to show off, and was also...Haven was too kind to ever think of him as a coward, but when he realized there was real danger afoot, he tended to run. Which Haven could hardly blame him for, she was no combatant himself. He avoided pain. He sought attention. Yet now, when she was offering attention, he put himself in pain to refuse it. Something was amiss here. There was a piece of the puzzle that she was not seeing, a piece that would explain this. People were like puzzles, in their way---you could look at two pieces that seemed like they could never fit together in the same person, but that was only because you weren’t seeing the other pieces that linked them together. And while Haven tried not to think of other human beings as something to be solved, to be analyzed, to be worked out and put under a microscope---they were so much more than that, and deserving of dignity, of privacy, of keeping their hidden pieces to themselves if they so chose---she could not help SEEING these things when they came to light for her. She could not help the pieces connecting in her own mind. As these new pieces connected with pre-existing ones in her mind, the information coming together in a cohesive whole, integrating with what she already had known or at least suspected. “Shinobi,” she said very softly, but her voice seemed to echo to him, and it wasn’t because of their small cell. “Shinobi....by your father’s standards, I’m the weakest person he knows. He’s said as much. I believe you’ve heard him.” Shinobi turned to look at her, confused where this was going, and anxious at the mention of his father, the mere mention of the man when he was already in this pained, panicked state making his skin feel like it was tightening around him in anticipation of a blow. Where was she going with this. “So therefore, Shinobi, being as that is...it should be absolutely safe, should it not, to let yourself be weak around me?” She had not EXACTLY guessed what was going on. But she had gotten close. And Shinobi let himself collapse into her lap. *** "INSTINCT” “You know, I never asked you,” said Madelyne as they walked along the beach. It was nothing romantic, they were just on their way to the ship. “How’d you know it was me?” Sebastian looked at her oddly, and she clarified, “I mean when we first met. When Selene introduced me and I pulled down that drama queen cloak and there you see, the spitting image of---you know, her. I didn’t know it at the time, but you two had quite the past. How was SHE not your first thought?” “How do you know she was not?” Madelyne rolled her eyes, “You scoffed at me and called me an “unknown being”, you knew who I was---or at least who I WASN’T. If you’d thought I was Jean you would have---I don’t know but you wouldn’t say THAT.” “Perhaps I simply didn’t recognize the face without the Black Queen costume to go with it.” “Sebastian!” “You know that’s as liable an answer as any.” “You’re dodging the question.” Madelyne held out her arms to the sides, “Look, you’re basically the most morally bankrupt person I’ve ever met who wasn’t a literal demon—and I count Mr Sinister in that category—but you also gave me the kindness of individuality even BEFORE I started treating you as my personal bone machine. And I know the k-word doesn’t come easy to you Sebastian so what gives? More specifically, what did I give away that told you instantly who I WASNT?” There was a long pause. At last, Sebastian answered, and he didn’t sound sure in it at all, which was what let Madelyne know he was being honest. “I confess, spitfire, I really don’t know. Gut instinct, perhaps. “ “So Scott had no guts. Big surprise.” “Mr. Summers knew Ms. Grey in all her incarnations. I only ever knew your hated counterpart as the Black Queen, the Dark Phoenix. We never met when she was NOT that, NOT possessed by the Phoenix Force, not radiating with that strange cosmic energy.” Shaw did not know that the ‘Jean’ he had known had actually BEEN that cosmic energy and not Jean at all, nor did Madelyne, but that was besides the point. He continued, “I am no psychic---I did not have to be, to feel that power. It was more distinct than a face or form, and you lacked it. So much a difference did that make that I did NOT recognize face nor form without it. So if you are searching for some romantic reason concerning seeing your true self or some such sentimental claptr---” “No, that’s the thing, I KNOW it’s not that,” Madelyne cut him off sharply, insulted he’d think she’d ever be so deluded, “I know you didn’t love me. And I’m fine with that, I didn’t love you---did love your dick and money though. But that’s why it was crazy to me that the man who didn’t love me, saw more than the man who was supposed to.” “Well, I do hope that satisfied your curiosity,” Sebastian said, then smirked, “Now tell me again that first thing you loved about me?” Madelyne tried to push him into the water. *** “NATURE” “That’s how it is in nature, after all,” Sebastian finished, “Adversity builds strength. Look at the animals. Red in tooth and claw. Do you know what happens to the weak ones, Ms. Dastoor? They are devoured. As it should be.” “I don’t believe looking to animals as a model for our own behavior is a very good argument, Mr. Shaw,” said Haven, setting her teacup primly on her saucer, “After all, no animals wear clothing, and while I understand you find some articles...restrictive...it seems to be something you overall practice. Animals do not use boats either. Or teasets. Or currency.” “Fair enough. But simply because not EVERYTHING from the animal kingdom should be emulated, does not mean nothing should be.” “I do agree with that. I merely suspect we would differ on what should be.” “Quite correct. I think you can guess which I find most admirable. As I can guess your preferred models of behavior. Cows and dogs and such nursing their young, am I correct?” “You are, Mr. Shaw. But I think that my preferred models are actually just as conducive to your ideals of strength.” “Explain.” he leaned forward. He sounded genuinely interested, if only mildly. “I’m no zoological expert but I can tell you...it varies with species. Some, like sharks, don’t raise their young--they’ll in fact devour them. But in mammals, the strong species all nurse and nurture their young, at least the mothers do. Sometimes both parents, I think, as with wolf packs. But, let us take tigers, one of the greatest predators on the planet, surely a species that appeals to the ‘red in tooth and claw’ paradigm of power, the apex predator who devours the ones beneath it. These creatures, mighty as they are, begin as helpless cubs, blind and barely mobile. If their mothers abandoned them to adversity as you suggest they must, or worse, hurt them in order to make them strong, the cubs would die. Even if they did manage to fend for themselves in the wild without help, they’d be malnourished as cubs, resulting in stunted adults. And they wouldn’t learn how to hunt or behave. They need to loving guidance of their mother in order to be the powerful killers they become. I don’t think the father stays, but I imagine they would not be worse for it if he contributed. Therefore, I think the most successful species in your worldview, owe their success to the greatest traits in my worldview.” “Point to you, Ms. Dastoor,” said Sebastian, lifting his cup, “Though, as you yourself state---this does not apply to ALL great predators, and the tiger still does teach the cubs to hunt what is weaker than themselves. She does not nurture them forever. Surely at some point the juveniles are driven away from her, and by her own claws?” “I believe they do, when it is time. But I would not think you approved of that aspect of their behavior.” “Whyever not?” “Your son is an adult, yet you still have him taking orders at your side, do you not?” There was a very tense silence, and then Shaw smiled. “You say you’re no zoologist. Why do you know so much about tigers?” She smiled back, “Well, Mr. Shaw, it’s actually a bit spiteful, I suppose---I heard arguments like yours over and over, using ‘survival of the fittes’, to justify hurting or neglecting others. I decided to look into just how true it actually was that this was the “natural” order.” His smile became a grin, “Ah, so it is not about love of animals, but a love of refuting me.” "No, Mr. Shaw. It’s for love of the people hurt by beliefs like yours. But,” and her own smile became a grin as well, something that, despite its technical closeness to a smile, was a far cry from anything Sebastian had ever grlimpsed on her face before, “I will level with you---it is a little fun when someone doesn’t have an answer to my tiger example." *** SATURN’S CHILDREN “She was my mom, you know,” said Alice as they approached the wall of rubble. They were in the remains of the underground children where Alice and the other children had lived with Miss Sinister. Shinobi’s mission had been to get in using his phasing abilities, gather data, and get out. Alice, of course, had not been part of the plan. But when it was just her and him, she’d begged to come, and he’d...fuck, he didn’t know why he gave in. “I loved her. I still love her. And I thought she loved me,” Alice continued, as though in a trance, as though talking to the rubble and not to Shinobi, “And she did, I guess, just---just not how I thought. Like you love a car. Something you can use. Or more like, I guess, I guess---” Her voice broke, “A set of new clothes.” Shinobi, really just wanting her to shut up, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her through with him. They were in the remains of the entryway when they went solid again, and as Shinobi tried to reconcile the digital map Claudine had given him with the ruins before him. Alice quieted down as they searched, but then something else set her off, she was touching something---a broken cloning tank. Again, she was talking to it, not to Shinobi. “She loved me for what she wanted me to be for her, she loved what I could do for her.” Shinobi stepped up behind her, “Uh, Ally?” “Alice.” “Right, Alison, listen, maybe uh talk to Madelyne or Haven or somebody about this later.” “Well they’re not here!” she shouted over her shoulder at him, and she sounded both angry and in pain, taking Shinobi aback, “They’re not here and you are and you...I know you understand me!” Shinobi froze, “The hell do you mean?” “You may be dumb but I’m not! I have eyes! All you want to do is party and have fun and get drunk with Pyro! No way you’re doing all this Black Bishop businessman stuff except for your dad!” “Hey, not true!” Shinobi returned, “The Hellfire Club is power, money is power, and power is everything! And I want everything!” “You don’t want power, you don’t even wanna get out of bed in the morning! “It’s called a hangover you stupid little snot!” “Exactly!” “Wh---what does that even mean?! Shut up, I’m not going to engage with a CHILD! And after I was nice enough to bring you here! I have half a mind to leave you now, if you love it so much! That would teach you some manners!” He just might have to, if he still didn’t need to look for the data. Alice at least was helpful with that---she had lived in this place, she knew it well, even in ruins. They walked in silence at first as she lead the way to where the supercomputer’s chamber would be, until, goddammit, she started up again. “Look I wasn’t trying to be mean to you. But I mean...you’re just a kid, really, like me. You just wanna have fun. And I see how your dad talks to you. Everybody does. Even if only Ms. Haven says anything. “And Pyro,” Shinobi pointed out. “Well, Ms. Haven covers my ears when HE says anything to your dad.” “Yeah, because you’re a kid and I’M NOT,” Shinobi said petulantly. And indeed he wasn’t a kid, he wasn’t some scared little boy anymore, he was black bishop of the hellfire club, partner to black king, his father, his father’s right hand man. Emphasis on MAN. Adult. Grown-up. Powerful. “Do you love him?” “Pyro? Nah, we’re just, uh...the adult kind of friends, you’ll understand when you’re older and more mature like m--” “Nooooo, dummy, your dad!” SHinobi tripped over the high heels of his costume, “What kind of question is that?” Alice looked down, not at Shinobi but at her sneakers, “I still love my mom. Claudine, I mean.” Shinobi didn’t answer her. He didn’t even look back at her. And she didn’t ask anymore questions, or talk about their parents anymore. They made it to the wrecked remains of the supercomputer, they got the wrecked remains of the data, and they returned to the rubble blocking the entrance. And as they phased out through it and stepped back into the outside world, Shinobi looked down at her and said, “I love what he can do for me.”

#alt marauders #fic #writing #out of cortez

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fowlfederluft · 4 years

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Foldom tag

I was tagged by the wonderful @xxfangirlanonymousxx to do the foldom tag. I will dig deep in my mind for all these questions.

1) Who is your favorite character and why? = I love all of them, they all have a interesting, distinctive character but I have to go with Artemis. I don't know why but he resonated with my 11 year old self so much and still today he is the reason why I love to wear shirts with ties and had my Haar died black for a while ( I also wished for his intelligence which sadly I never got but unlike him I have a good understanding of human emotions).

2) which book is your favorite and whats your favorite scene from it? = ugh, I could choose a favorite scene from every single book and my favorite book changes a lot. Now I will go with the lost colony as my favorite book, it was so interesting. I loved the part where the island collapsed into time space, they had to save it and to Artemis was a bomb strapped.

I think what I love about this part is Artemis beginning to understand how incredibly serious this situation is and that he could do nothing. It leads to two scenes where by the love of God I can't decide which I love more =

1. He saves Holly = he uses his intelligence but also all physical power he has to shoot back in time to save her. Also it breaks my heart that he had to see her die even if for a short amount of time.

2. When they create the time portal. This moment when Artemis and Holly minds are connected just gets to me. Not in a shippy way, I don't ship them at all, but they where once sworn enemy's and now they are deeply connected friends. I whish the book would have done more with Artemis and Holly knowing deeply about each other's pasts.

3) Do you ship any characters and why? = Im no big off a shipper. I love all Canon ships, besides that of course root and vinyaya. Something unusual that I shipped when I was younger was chix and Julie butler, they would make a much more interesting and healthier first human fairy relationship. Also they would be the power couple with the most style (also chix would with the help of Juliet recognize all his sexist tendencys and stop them).

4) if you could be a species of fairy, which would you be and why? = I have to go with elf, it would be cool to have wings but I don't want green skin. I would love so much to have magic, not to mesmerize someone but for the healing properties. It would help me so much.

5) Do you have a favorite fowl twin = nope, both are precious Lil beans ( yes both of them, even the grumpy bean in suit).

6) would you rather have a perfectly made AF movie or an animated TV series? = TV series by a long shot. Series just can concentrate better on plot and characters and can so much deeper than a mere movie, even perfect movies have to cut stuff. Also I would rather see it animated that with real person for all the possibilities. Then I don't have to fear to see a wonky sgi.

7) which graphic novel design do you like better, the older or the most recent one? = I had to ecosia that question, I did not knew there was a new one. I love the new one, Holly is still whitewashed but she doesn't look like a topmodel any more, she looks much more ruff and I love it. The only thing I would fix is to give arty some hairspray but that it ( but I also only saw some pictures of it so keep that in mind).

8) which villain is your favorite and why? = hmmm hard to pick again, the only thing I would say is that my least favorite villain is opal koboi, she just comes back so often that it annoys me. I love about af the diversity in villain, all with very distinctive style and personality. Opal at one point just gets too over the top for me.

If I had to choose a favorite villain at gunpoint right now I would go with the maniac from the time paradox. Just this ruthless, animal hating d***, I loved to see Artemis and Holly crumble his whole life in front of his eyes.

9) give your book ranking, from worst to best = oh no no please don't make me do it. Hmmm I have to think

Atlantis complex is my least favorite, I'm sorry. Then the last guardian. The first Artemis fowl. The artic incident. The opal deception. The eternity code. The time paradox. The lost colony.

But still I love all all all of them. Those books, they where my childhood companions, I always carried one of them when I traveled. Sometimes even if I just go to the city would would have one at my side as company. I would read and re read them again and again. If I could sleep? Artemis fowl. When I was sad or scarred? Artemis fowl. At the darkest hours of childhood? Artemis fowl.

Those books carried me through so much and I am so deeply thankful for that.

10) if you could say one thing to any of the characters, what would you say= I would like to hug Artemis if he let me or at least lay my hand on his shoulder and say to him that I saw his pain and that I'm so deeply sorry for him.

This was fun tag but now I'm kinda sad, welp that's for remembering all the sad things that happen in the book and my childhood. Oh well. For the tag I don't know who wasn't tagged? So I won't tag anyone but please please if you see my post and want to do it please go ahead.

A big thank you for the whole of Artemis fowl Fandom on tumblr, it is so wonderful to have all of you <3

#artemis fowl fandom #artemis fowl #Fowldom #Fowldom tag

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under-the-lake · 4 years

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I Suspect Nargles Are Behind It: Luna and Reality - short mind ramblings

I thought that some lighter writing than my usual stuff could be nice during these troubled captivity times. So I wondered and then set my mind on writing about a character, and chose Luna. Why Luna? I just love her. She’s clever but not vain, she’s a proper oddball to whom I can identify, she loves animals and understands the weird. She lives in a strange world of her own, oddly connected with reality, and has values I can share. On a more literature-related point of view, she’s a secondary character but without her the story couldn’t have unfolded as it did. In a very short piece (to my standards at least) I decided to explore Luna’s take on the reality norms the world has built.

Short ID

Name: Luna Lovegood (originally she was called Lily Moon, because it gave Rowling the idea of a dreamy girl - Original Writings for PM, The Original Forty)

Born: 13th February (J.K. Rowling, Twitter, 17th July 2015) and we can suppose it’s 1981 because Luna went to Hogwarts one year after Harry (born on 31st July 1980).

Post-Hogwarts Occupation: Wizarding naturalist (as Rowling called her originally)

Particularities: odd beliefs, and she was able to see Thestrals very soon after her mother’s accidental death, when Luna was nine. Unusually perceptive and creative. Bloody bright.

School: Hogwarts, Ravenclaw

Marital Status: Married to Rolf Scamander (Newt’s grandson)

Children: 2 sons, Lorcan and Lysander

Other Family: Dad Xenophilius Lovegood (Editor of the Quibbler), mum Pandora Lovegood (dead)

Odd Species: Blibbering Humdinger, Nargles, Wrackspurts, Crumple-Horned Snorkack. According to Rowling (Bloomsbury Chat, 30.7.2007), Luna went on discovering and naming many new species, but had to eventually give up on the Snorkack being a real creature.

First Impressions - Hogwarts: from Loony to Luna

She had straggly, waist-length dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. [...]The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Chapter Ten, Luna Lovegood

That’s how we are introduced to Luna (in the book). Well… dunno what you think, but she is introduced as a weirdo all right. She’s reading a magazine, The Quibbler, upside down, and that she seems to find that perfectly normal (we do learn some pages later that it’s a thing about reading runes but even if there wasn’t any rational explanation I wouldn’t put it past Luna to read something upside down). You cannot deny that Luna is intriguing. There are many reactions one can have on meeting her for the first time, but there will be reactions, either because she’s so far from what the reader holds dear as values, or because she’s so close. One cannot be indifferent to Luna.

Besides, there’s that strange thing that she can see Thestrals, and thinks they are nothing but normal creatures. Who doesn’t remember the ‘You’re just sane as I am’ line? And who wouldn’t doubt their sanity at such a statement? I’m glad they kept the line in the film.

So from the very beginning of our acquaintance with Luna, we know that she’s different, but not yet why, that she is blunt without being rude, that she knows who she is, and that she has some sort of interest in the natural world. We can also imagine from her Butterbeer necklace that she’s not from a wealthy family, her dad running a not-so-mainstream magazine, The Quibbler. We have another bit of evidence for that in the World Cup (see below). The other possibility -which, knowing all the books, sounds at least as true as the first one- is that she’s from a very creative family. However, at that point of the story, we don’t know about Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorckacks. Yet. As for Luna’s Hogwarts allegiance, Wit Beyond Measure is Man’s Greatest Treasure, and The Circle Has No Beginning, she’s in Ginny’s year, one year below Harry, and she’s a Ravenclaw.

First Mention

Luna is not mentioned by first name until Ginny introduces her in Order of the Phoenix, Chapter Ten. However, Rowling introduces the Lovegoods in Goblet of Fire, Chapter Six. They are just mentioned, en passant, by Amos Diggory, while he and Cedric and the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione are waiting for their Portkey on Stoatshead Hill (seven past five, and old wellington boot) to get them to the Quidditch World Cup. Amos says the Lovegoods aren’t using the Portkey because they’ve been on the World Cup Site for a week since they couldn’t afford it another way. They live near the Weasleys, the Diggorys and the Fawcetts, somewhere near Ottery St Catchpole (Deathly Hallows, Chapter Twenty).

First Meeting

‘There’s only Loony Lovegood in there.’ This statement by Ginny is the first mention of Luna in the whole series. She’s met Neville who is looking for a compartment on the Hogwarts Express and can’t find one because ‘everywhere’s full’. ‘Don’t be silly, she’s all right’, answers Ginny. (OoP, Chapter Ten).

Straight in: ‘Loony’ is ‘all right’. Contradiction, but also completely true. Luna is a loony if you look at her with the eyes of conventional society and the norms it has set. She is all right, which means Ginny has taken trouble to get acquainted and knows she’s no loony, and at least never uses her ‘nickname’ straight in her face (contrary to Hermione’s line in the film…. which I hate, so much not in character. Is that the girl who started SPEW?). Ginny puts things straight from the beginning, yet she’s struggling to repress her fit of the giggles in the compartment, later, when Luna states Ravenclaw’s motto in a sing-song voice. Luna doesn’t seem to care what people think, and she’s pretty straightforward in her statements, though not in a mean way. For instance, when she tells Harry, still in the same scene in the Hogwarts Express compartment, that Parvati didn’t enjoy the Yule Ball with him because he hadn’t cared to dance with her, it’s just a statement, not a judgement. Luna doesn’t do judgement. I must admit that the feelings, at reading this train scene for the first time, are mixed. You perceive that Luna is someone special who is rather unbothered by others’ opinion because she knows herself and is in a way more mature than her fellow classmates. You basically wonder if she’s got some autistic traits. On the other hand, the series of articles in the magazine she’s reading - and obviously taking seriously - show an openness of mind and fantasy that are quite unusual. How Far Would Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts? or Sirius Black - Villain or Victim? Notorious Mass Murderer or Innocent Singing Sensation? are just two of the titles in the issue of The Quibbler that Luna is reading (see picture below).

The first impressions are tested further because once the lot get off the train, there’s the Thestrals. Harry has never been able to see them before, because he had never understood death before seeing Cedric murdered during the Third Task. He’s completely stunned by those skeletal winged horses. Luna isn’t, and simply explains they’ve always been there. Not at all reassured and still thinking he’s having hallucinations, Harry climbs up behind Luna into the carriage, not sure if he wants to disclose this to his best mates.

This is the first meeting with Luna. You cannot deny the impression is strong. Personally I did like her from the start. She then just grew on me.

Reality? Berkeley? Aristotle?

Believing in things that nobody can see… mental, Luna? Or just aware of the world in a way few modern people are able to? Just more open to nature and unusually perceptive or living on another planet? I reckon anything but mental. Luna is a character who questions our perception and definition of reality throughout the three books she appears in.

Traditionally, if we follow Aristotle (On Interpretation), a statement can be true if both the sentence and the reality it aims at describing match. There must be no contradiction and the statement must be in adequation with reality. Like saying, while standing in front of the Hogwarts Express, ‘the steam engine is scarlet’. It’s the, say, rational way. And it is the way it works in the wizarding world, yet the roots are different from the Muggle one. Magic is the scientific framework in which the wizarding world evolves, and in that world magic is a science in the Muggle sense: it can be studied, divided into subjects, tested (Nadal, 2014).

However, on the other end of the spectrum, there’s another way of seeing things that are less black or white, and it was explained by Irish philosopher George Berkeley (1685 - 1753). Berkeley, to put it shortly, states that what one sees is, from the moment it’s apprehended by anything connected with the brain, an interpretation of reality. He says that reality per se doesn’t exist and that the things we see, as a dimension of reality conceived out of the mind, is a mere illusion (Chaillan, 2016; Granger & Bassham, 2016). Seen in that light, Harry’s meeting with Dumbledore at the end of Deathly Hallows is full of sense. So is Luna’s relationship with the world around her. The case of Nargles, Wrackspurts and Crumple-Horned Snorckacks are proof enough. Luna questions our relationship with the norms the world has built around what is considered real and what is not. Can you believe something exists while you’ve never seen it? Well… just ask everyone who believes in any kind of god, magic or whatever. They’ve never seen the source, have they. Still, they do believe it exists. The difference with Luna is that while religion is something built by, and therefore admitted as real, by society (the norm, or one of the possible norms), Nargles and Wrackspurts are not.

If we look at the zoological side of things, the Muggle world has Science (Claim, Evidence, Reasoning), and Cryptozoology. Science proves, tests, confronts, questions. Cryptozoology is the branch of zoology that deals with imaginary species. So there is a society-approved branch of Natural History that deals with what legends and history have given us. Those two sides, in Luna’s world, are, for the ‘official part’, the Ministry Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Scamander’s book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (notice that the title holds the word ‘fantastic’? What irony…) and Hagrid and Grubbly-Plank as Care of Magical Creatures Teachers. Oh and we could add Charlie Weasley as a Dragon Keeper. The other side of this is The Quibbler and Xenophilius Lovegood (and Luna). So while both worlds have two instances to deal with two parts of the natural world, and while the Muggle world has both sides coexisting rather peacefully because society-approved, the wizarding world is in tension because no official body has ever given any credit to The Quibbler or Xenophilius’s weird ideas. I’ll discuss Magical Natural Sciences later in a bit more depth. What I wanted to showcase here is that this comparison about how Natural Sciences and CryptoSciences are dealt with in both worlds further supports the distinction between Aristotelian and Berkeleyan ways of seeing reality, and supports the idea that the Lovegoods are more Berkeleyan, but therefore also the fact that the Wizarding world is even more normative that the Muggle one, and that’s saying something (for instance there’s only one school and one teacher for each subject for the whole of the UK and Ireland; if that is not normative, I don’t know what is).

Luna openly states stuff that is completely bonkers, which makes her sort of -pardon me- unbelievable. Though it fits with Berkeley. I mean who knows if Rufus Scrimgeour is really a vampire or not? Or who knows if Fudge really has an army of Heliopaths? On the other hand, she was raised by An Eccentric if there ever was one. I mean old Xenophilius (incidentally, ‘xenophilius’ means ‘love of the strange’). We first meet him at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, at the start of Deathly Hallows. ‘Slightly cross-eyed, with shoulder-length white hair the texture of candyfloss, he wore a cap whose tassel dangled in front of his nose and robes of an eye-watering shade of egg-yolk yellow. An odd symbol, rather like a triangular eye, glistened from a golden chain around his neck.’ (DH, Chapter Eight) Xenophilius goes one praising the gnome infestation in the Weasleys’ garden, and the wisdom of those creatures. Not exactly your conventional wizard. He looks even stranger than that wizard wearing a lady’s dressing-gown at the Quidditch World Cup. Thing is, the Lovegoods are taking a step back looking at the conventional world they were made to live in. They don’t fit in because their reality is unproven and therefore not believable in an Aristotelian world. However, Luna has her own boundaries of truth. Somehow they meet Dumbledore’s. He believed the Deathly Hallows existed, as did Xenophilius, and finally Harry. For most witches and wizards, including Ron and Hermione until the last moment, the Hallows are only an artefact in a children’s story, The Tale of the Three Brothers.

Luna’s mum died when Luna was nine; a spell Pandora was experimenting on backfired. Luna witnessed that and has since been able to see Thestrals. Luna’s mum was probably the one who was more perceptive and passed that to Luna (reminds me of Fiver in Watership Down passing his own sixth sense on to the next generation). Luna stays as she is, but eventually, according to Rowling, gives up on Snorkacks as her dad’s inventions (Bloomsbury Chat, 30.7.2007).

I reckon Luna would fit more in a Berkeleyan world than in the normative world our ‘civilized’ societies have built, be they magical or Muggle. Of course every society has norms. Thing is, how much constraint they set upon members makes all the difference. Luna is not a Loony (even etymologically, in my opinion, because loony is short for lunatic, which means mentally ill, from the moon - see all the tales and beliefs surrounding full moon for instance, mostly negative in a normative Aristotelian world). Luna is the positive form of Loony, I’d say. She’s seen as a loony by people whose norms are those of the society they grew up in. With a wee bit of openness of mind, Luna is a great character, a philosophical free-lancer, a mirror in which we can question our society and beliefs about reality.

PS: I want to explore friendship and loyalty in Luna briefly too. Soon... confinement helps the writer :P The wizarding community is at risk too! Stay at home!

Sources:

https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/the-original-forty

https://www.wizardingworld.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/thestrals

http://www.accio-quote.org/articles/2007/0730-bloomsbury-chat.html

https://www.syfy.com/syfywire/the-resiliency-of-luna-lovegood

Aristotle, De Interpretatione (English translation), retrieved from http://www.bocc.ubi.pt/pag/Aristotle-interpretation.pdf

Adams, R. (1972). Watership Down. Penguin.

Chaillan, M. (2016). Harry Potter et Berkeley. In Harry Potter à l’école des philosophes, Philosophie Magazine, Hors série n°31, novembre - décembre 2016. 70-71.

Granger, J. & Bassham, G. (2016). Just in Your Head? J.K. Rowling on Separating Reality from Illusion. In Bassham, G. (2016, Eds.). The Ultimate Harry Potter and Philosophy, Hogwarts for Muggles. Wiley Eds. 185-197

Nadal, C. (2014). Magical Science: Luna Lovegood’s Beliefs, Discoveries and Truth. In Martín Alegre, S., Arms, C., Blasco Solís, L., Calvo Zafra, L., Campos, R., Canals Sánchez, M., ... & García Jordà, L. (2014). Charming and bewitching: considering the Harry Potter series. 148-153.

Rowling, J. K. (2000). Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Bloomsbury, London.

Rowling, J. K. (2003). Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Bloomsbury, London.

Rowling, J. K. (2007). Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Bloomsbury, London.

Rowling, J. K. (2007). The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Bloomsbury, London.

Scamander, N. (1927; 2001; 2018; [J.K. Rowling]). Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Bloomsbury, London, in association with Obscurus Books, 18a Diagon Alley, London.

#Louhi #Luna #LunaLovegood #Reality #Philosophy #Harry Potter #Hogwarts #J.K.Rowling #Berkeley #Aristotle #Cryptozoology #Xenophilius #SocietyNorms

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kingofthewilderwest · 5 years

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Hey :) I want to watch more httyd but sadly I've seen all the movies, are the tv series' any good? Which one should I start with?

Oh goodness, I have a post somewhere answering this very question, but I’m too lazy to find it. TIME FOR A REWRITE! XD

I find the HTTYD television materials VERY worthwhile additions to the DreamWorks Dragons franchise. I feel like we are extremely blessed to have over a hundred episodes of a show filled with fantastic moments and memories. Personally, I always encourage people to check them out. The shows won’t be for everyone, which is alright, but I feel that the television series has a lot going for it. I love the shows myself and constantly reference some points from them in my analyses because I think they’re so critical. I’ll explain pros and cons so you can make your own choice about whether or not the shows might be your thing.

I’d say the number one highlight of the television series is the increased time with the dragon riding gang - Hiccup, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout, and Astrid. Many of these characters are secondary in the movie trilogy, having little time on screen, but the television series fleshes them out. It’s because of the show that I fell in love with Snotlout’s character and saw him in three-dimensional depth; I’d say he’s the character they handle best, going into how he hides his insecurities with machismo because he wants to impress a berating father. It’s the show for why I attach to the twins; their sibling devotion and love for one another is brought out wonderfully on screen. There’s good moments with everybody, and you’ll see everyone pair up with everybody - what’s the friendship between Astrid and Tuffnut like? Now you’ll know.

I think a decent test for whether or not you’d enjoy the character dynamics is… well… did you like the character bantering that happened in THW? If so, that had a very distinct tv series feel to it - to the point that they were even referencing ongoing television series gags like Snotlout getting his ass caught on fire.

There’s other characters to meet and engage with too! We’ve got Heather, a badass young woman who connects well with Astrid. We’ve got Gustav, an obnoxious wannabe “Snotlout” who shadows the older dragon rider. We’ve got Mala, the queen of a warrior-trained society that reveres dragons. And there’s Atali, Minden, Throk, Savage, Alvin, Dagur, Mulch, Bucket, Mildew, Krogan, Johann, Viggo, Ryker, and more!

The television series is also good for laughs. Did you ever want a musical episode where Snotlout sings about how amazing he is? Did you ever want to see an entire pile of fish dunked on Hiccup’s head? How about where Hiccup painstakingly tries to talk without using the letter s? “TOOTHLEH! PLAMA BLAT!” is a moment I’ll never stop laughing at.

I also think the best DreamWorks Dragons villains are in the television series. Alvin the Treacherous is a hoot on screen, delightfully voice acted by Mark Hamill. Dagur the Deranged has his fan base for a reason. And for me? Viggo Grimborn is my number one favorite villain from the DreamWorks side of HTTYD - a manipulative, morally gray trader who is such a keen strategist he makes Hiccup appear a foolish child.

One small last point: there’s extra depth to appreciate about the films if you go through the shows. Astrid sympathizing with Hiccup in the first film makes even more sense once you realize her family name got tarnished and she felt social ostracization herself. You see Hiccup attempting to develop his flight suit and sword, leading into HTTYD 2 material. The presence of Fireworms in the third film is a reference to a dragon species introduced in the shows. A conversation point in THW about having dealt with “their kind before” (that is, dangerous people like Grimmel) is a reference to Hiccup’s adventures with Viggo Grimborn. The underground caves that become stables in HTTYD 2 were first found in the television series, explored in DOB. Stoick and Hiccup have several conversations about leadership that lend extra feels to the tragedy in HTTYD 2. Tuffnut yakking to Hiccup ridiculously in THW brings up all the memories of weird conversations they’ve had before… there’s extra context, content, and background to appreciate when you approach the movies with knowledge of the full franchise.

Now, the shows aren’t perfect, and it’s usually the same reasons why people don’t get engaged with the shows. Again: some fans love the shows and scream their way through episodes, some fans dislike the shows and refuse to touch them, and some fans are “meh” about the shows and get through them with liquor. It’s all dependent on the sorts of things you tend to attach to, and the things that tend to bother you.

One reason some people don’t engage is that the first episodes of the first series (Riders of Berk) can feel childish in tone with low stakes. It is to note that the adventures and stakes do grow from the start. The animation levels also drastically improve from start to end… it’s a wild difference to compare the first episode of Riders of Berk with the finale of Race to the Edge.

Another reason is that the shows are not about the dragon characters. There will be the introduction of many cool dragon species like the Death Song, Scauldron, or Thunderdrum, but the shows aren’t about the humans connecting with their dragon friends. They do not focus on the dragon characters. So don’t go here for Hiccup and Toothless dynamics. There’s a few feelsy moments to talk about, but not many; Toothless is mostly a background character as the stories focus on the humans instead.

Next, some people feel like the characters are “dumbed down” or written inconsistently, and while I wouldn’t phrase it exactly like that, there’s a point to be made there. Some audience members especially don’t like how Hiccstrid gets handled in the first half of RTTE, where they feel like the bumbling hesitant startings of romance is inaccurate to how the two would develop relationally. (It’s to note that another group of people fawn over the Hiccstrid dynamics). Others hate Heather, calling her a “Mary Sue” (a term I think should be retired from existence because it’s a pointless criticism word anymore, but anyway, some people feel like Heather is an Angst Child who takes too much screen time, and that’s a fair point too). Astrid sometimes feels too damsel-in-distress-y for me. As far as Hiccup? Well. Hiccup’s personality is presented a bit differently than you usually see in the movies. RTTE!Hiccup is some of my favorite Hiccup, but he is presented with a different flavor.

Next, some people say that the television series story is inconsistent, completely irreconcilable, with the events of the trilogy. I personally find the continuity blips minor at best, and similar to franchise blips that happen anywhere, but it’s your call, and it’s totally fine if you find the continuity irreconcilable. It’s your take! It’s your experience with the story! Things like Hiccstrid romantic development, whether or not Berk was at peace during the five year gap between HTTYD and HTTYD 2, whether or not Hiccup knew anything about Bewilderbeasts, and whether or not Hiccup had run into other dragon riders before Valka… well… the television series will present something different than you might have presumed from movie material alone. This HIGHLY irritates some people, as it can feel like it sabotages the efficacy of certain moments in the films. For other people like me, it’s an entire non-issue. All is all fair because we engage with media in different ways! Here’s the issue just so you know: you can make your call about whether or not continuity questions will bother you.

Last, the plot. The first two television series, the plot is straightforward and fine. For RTTE, the plot is not the best presented. I think the first two seasons start out GREAT, but then it gets increasing issues. It’s for this reason that some people like ROB and DOB but aren’t engaged with RTTE. There’s a lot of fun to be had in it, and there’s many points at which I was fully engaged. In many ways, RTTE does some things BEST of the whole series. BUT. It doesn’t take much observation to realize there are logic gaps, motivation questions, convoluted but repetitive plot twists, some eyebrow-raising unrealistic moments, and instead of showing smooth characterization, people have a tendency to suddenly jump forward or shift in spurts. If you’re someone who gets invested in a show primarily for long-term plot arcs, you might get irritated at decisions in RTTE. But if you’re someone who’s willing to go along for the ride and just have fun and take it for what it is, RTTE has an entertaining story with lots of adventure.

For me? The television series is a blessing and COMPLETELY worth the watch. But I hope this discussion of pros and cons can make your decision best for you!

So! With all that said! What order should you watch them in? The order that they were released:

Riders of Berk

Defenders of Berk

Race to the Edge

Riders and Defenders of Berk are not on Netflix and you’ll have to go elsewhere to watch them. Race to the Edge got released on Netflix and is still available there… though all the shows have been released on DVD by this point.

I highly encourage you to watch the shows start to end as they came out because of plot reasons. RTTE especially needs to be watched in episode order, but RTTE makes sense only in the context of you seeing ROB and DOB first. There are filler episodes, but there are overarching plots. If you went straight into Race to the Edge first, you’d have no idea who the Helheim Heather and Dagur are, and why it’s important to run into them.

I hope this helps you and any others considering the shows! It’s so much more dragons dragons dragons dragons dragons and I hope that, if you watch, you have just as much of a blast as I did!

#httyd #How to Train Your Dragon #DreamWorks Dragons #Riders of Berk #ROB #Defenders of Berk #DOB #RTTE #Race to the Edge #if you want to find my other answer to this question it should be buried somewhere in my faq tag #at least it BETTER be #faq #ask #ask me #analysis #my analysis #rtte #something-wicked-this-waycomes #also the tv show basically made Snotlout bisexual so WOOT

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 5 years

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Birds ~ Stan Uris (Part 5)

A/n: Been a while since I wrote this. I'm in love with this series, man...

MASTERLIST

Alone here with the doves, the sparrows, the ospreys, the owlets, the eaglets, and my list! It's just me and Mr. Finch, the robins, the kingfishers, the snipes- though I heard they don't exist!

For the first time ever, Stan could sit still less than Richie. The fact alone that someone was moving, fidgeting, and talking more than Richie was shock enough but the fact that it was STAN who was doing so, it made it even more worrying. Easily said, each of the Losers knew that there was something wrong.

They had all gone out to lunch and Stan had not stopped talking to Richie, seeming to have simply too much energy for his body to handle, using talking to defuse the amount as he had seen Richie do plenty of times. The hyperactive Tozier might be obnoxious at times but he had a fairly good handle on his excess energy, so Stan chose to follow in his footsteps. He hadn’t had any other example of someone hyperactive dealing with it any other way so he didn’t know what else to do even if he had been too stubborn to follow in Richie’s footsteps. But that was beside the point.

Bill stood as their number was called. “Stan, come help me grab the food?”

Thankful for the second option of something to do with his body, Stan shot to his feet, nodding and his head and, as an after thought, adding a calm smile that was border lining on the spastic grin Richie would wear constantly. Bill shot looks at his friends before following after Stan, who had taken initiative to push ahead.

When they got the counter, Bill tugged on Stan’s arm to get his attention. “Is everything okay, Stan the Man?” The redhead asked.

Stan shrugged, playing it off. “Yeah, of course.”

Bill rose an eyebrow. “Stanley, you’re... acting like Richie.” Color drained from Stan’s face. If it was really so painfully obvious, there was no way he could play this off. “What’s wrong?” Bill repeated, the expression on his face tender and concerned.

Giving in, Stan sighed and rested his elbows on the counter. “I don’t know.”

That was half true. He had suspicions and ideas. He’d had dreams and felt certain words on the tip of his tongue. It had been too long since Y/n had come bird watching, and now they weren’t even hanging out with the Losers at all so even though their schedules had freed up, Stan didn’t see Y/n ever at all. He was desperately trying not to accept that he was feeling what he was feeling, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Especially now, meeting Bill’s eyes. The look in the tall boy’s baby blues was piercing, as if Bill had looked into his soul, read his mind, already knew everything, and was simply waiting for Stan to realize and admit it too. It was the same look Bill would get on his face when he would think about Georgie or start overthinking when one of their schemes would go wrong, trying to figure out where he failed. Quiet, pensive - desperate even - and so very serious that it made Bill look... older.

Stan looked away, refusing to open up anymore because he knew that Bill had him on the edge and with one breath, Stan would fall. Or perhaps Stan had already fallen, simply closing his eyes and plugging his ears and pretending he wasn’t. In that scenario, then, Stan supposed that Bill was simply at the top of the cliff he had fallen off of, screaming at him to wake up and prepare for impact so Stan wouldn’t get hurt.

The thing was, he was sure the Losers were neither oblivious nor stupid. Ever since Stan and Y/n began hanging out, there was a distinct dynamic change. Stan was softer, smiling more and stealing long, warm glances in Y/n’s direction. He’d loosened up and relaxed, Y/n’s cheer tending to ease him and lighten him up rather than put him on edge with distrust or annoyance like before. Not being around his little personal bundle of sunlight had made him gloomy and dark and he was so unaccustomed to feeling such emotions and being so completely transparent. The Losers knew what he was feeling and why, as much as he knew. Except they weren’t desperately trying to deny it...

What Bill next shattered all of the rest of Stan’s attempts at walls and barriers and mental pockets of darkness he was trying to hide in. “You’re in love with them." Stan’s breath stopped in his throat and his eyes flew wide in the little comparative scenario of him free falling- now he was only too aware of how fast he was falling and how close the source of impact was.

He panicked, shooting up straight backed and red faced, glaring at Bill with defensive anger. "I am not!” Bill sighed, long and low and exhausted. The same piercing blue eyes turned on Stan, meeting his own brown with a face that was much more fitting for his age. Really Stan? He seemed to be asking. Are you really going to lie to us both? Stan bit his lip, shifting from foot to foot to try and think of a way to block it out again, but now that he was aware and awake there was simply no going back. His body charged with adrenaline and all his fear and panic turned to the need to do something. Do something now. Anything. He could run a marathon. His wild eyes turned to Bill, wildly mad as he softly asked, “What if I am?"

Bill’s smile returned as the boy chuckled. “You need to be sure, Stan the Man. You can’t go off of their confidence,” he began, nodding in the direction of the Losers. “And you can’t go off of mine. Y/n has to see YOUR confidence.”

Stan gulped, his feet tapping in his anxiousness to do something NOW. “How can I know for sure?”

For a second Bill just sat and thought before grabbing their food and making their way back towards th Losers, getting out of the way as anther order’s number was called. Stan dutifully helped him. Stan was nervous that they would get to the table before Bill had come up with a clear solution, including everyone in their conversation and making him feel even more invaded than he already did. Bill made sure to slow their steps though, pausing halfway between the counter and the table before nodding very seriously to Beverly and Eddie, who nodded back just as grimly and shot up to come get the food. Their friends grabbed the food from them and returned to the table again and it was almost comical how grim and serious the whole exchange was. Just as Stan was about to explode, Bill turned to him. “How do they make you feel?”

Almost too quickly Stan had an answer. “Safe.” He jerked, surprised at the word that had come from his own mouth. “They’re... warm. Bright. They adapt, making sure whoever they’re around is in a good place but also happy. Selfless and kind.” Stan blushed and he felt like choking himself to death. “At first I...” A shine caught his eye and Stan’s eyes moved to the glint of sunlight against the side of car through the diner window. “I thought they were sunshine. Warm but harsh and dangerous to get close to and even damaging to look at. Too bright, and too warm. Suffocating, like in the summer...” He struggled. “But... but they’re more like...” He grunted, realizing that Ben would probably have no problem explaining his words without all the metaphors and awkwardness. He wondered if he would get better at communicating once he was older. “They’re like the moon,” Stan finally settled. “Enough light to guide and comfort, letting you see the world around you. But actually quite cool to the touch, adding an almost angelic glow to the world and just shimmering and shining and... beautiful...” He blinked, knocking out of thoughts and looking back and Bill. “Yeah.”

Bill chuckled. “What do you think, Stan? Verdict?”

It came so easily that it almost knocked Stan off his feet, just like when he had answered ‘safe’ before. “I love them.”

A grin so bright it would put the stars to shame light up Bill's face and Stan wondered how this boy could be so simultaneously brooding and thoughtful as well as so lighthearted and bright. He was so intense... “What are you going to do about it?"

Stan’s face set as his eyes landed on the door. “I’ll-“ He cut off, unsure again. Once he said it, there was no going back. Once he took that first step he'd start running and he would be able to stop himself.

“Go!” Bill urged, hands pushing softly against the frozen, curl haired boy as he chuckled softly, rolling his eyes.

Stan didn’t have to be told a second time. He was off, suddenly using all of that pent up need to move and go and do something to run, set on finding Y/n before his courage drained and he couldn’t find the power to tell them. To finally tell them. Everything.

Each little species and it's little way can teach me what awaits you if you can get away. I wanna watch the birds do what they will- sorry if I'm ornithologically prone.

He checked everywhere his frantic brain could think of. The library, where they usually hide out with Ben. The arcade, where they hang with Richie. The field and under the bleachers where they sometimes disappear with Beverly if either of them need a one on one talk about whatever they don't feel comfortable telling the other Losers. The Kissing Bridge that they walk to with Bill, stopping because it's always on their route no matter which path they take to walk. The Pharmacy, where Y/n sometimes set camp at in a corner alone in the back, finding solace there ever since Eddie started working. Y/n never wanted to bother the boy during a shift but they were like suxh close siblings and sometimes Y/n just really needed to see him or be close enough to hear his voice.

He checked at Mikes farm where Y/n got along with Mike's grandfather just enough to be trusted to go in the barn and be with the animals simply because all they did was read and take comfort in the presence other living beings... usually Y/n was with Stan but it had happened one or two times that Y/n had come alone and as long as they didn't bother anyone Mike's grandfather didn't care because not even he could really hate Y/n. He checked the special place at the park they always went to bird watch, wondering if maybe they'd gone while sure that Stan wouldn't be around.

He checked all of the places that Y/n hung out, realizing that he was surprised to see Y/n kept themself busy, having a different, special spot with each of the Losers. Bill and Y/n even had two places- the other spot was Bill's house (a far less favorite, but more comfortable) where they would sit in his room and plan or tell each other stories, or in his living room where they would watch movies after which they would promptly return to Bill's room to plan any sort of adventure in the woods (this was usually where they dragged the other Loser's into the scenario, which is when things usually got messy). Stan didn't bother checking there though. In fact he didn't know why he bothered checking in any of the usual places Y/n hung out with the Losers- none of the locations were special without the companion that Y/n was usually at the location with.

If Y/n wanted to be alone, they would go somewhere that was safe and special to them alone.

No, he was thinking like himself. Stan got off of his bike, exhausted as he tried to think like Y/n, running a hand through his hair - which, ironically, is a habit he picked up from Y/n, since he hated to mess up his hair with the action - and trying to ignore the wind blown feeling of the curly strands.

Y/n doesn't like to be alone. The people at the arcade or the library. Taking comfort in the animals or Eddie at the pharmacy. If they were forced to be alone, they would...

His eyes snapped in the direction of the woods.

They would go somewhere where they had enough familiarity or memories to make them not feel alone.

He was running again, pushing through his exhaustion despite his being unfit and not used to this much exercise. He did it though. He ran home, which was on the way, to grab his bike, and then he biked all the way to where he KNEW Y/n just had to be. The one place that was so packed with memories that just looking at it felt like everyone was there and with you. The Losers had marked it theirs in every way, stuffing it full of trouble and fun, so tightly wound together that sometimes it became hard to decide where one ended and the other began. The one place that never changed, staying full of sound and smells that was as much part of the Losers as the people in the club.

The Quarry.

When he reached his destination, he dropped his bike and jogged up the hill that lead to the cliff's edge. He didn't see Y/n anywhere at the bottom and the top was a better place to be anyway, since it offered a breeze and a distance from the water, as well as a great view of the surrounding area. Despite what he knew about the Quarry and Y/n, what he found at the top stopped him dead in his tracks.

They sat there, legs crossed, sitting on a blanket. Their red ice box was next to them, closed. On the blanket was a ssandwich sitting on a plastic zip lock bag and on top of the ice box was a clear water bottle that was reaching empty. But what really had him stopped stiff was what Y/n had in their hands. Binoculars. Their eyes were turned to the skies and they sat still, eyes squinted. They were... bird watching.

Stan smiled softly. Heaven he really was in love with them, huh? He stepped closer but despite all the noise he had made, it hadn't been enough to even distract Y/n from the task they were focused on. "Hey," he said softly, trying to catch their attention.

Y/n spun around, body twisting with wife eyes. It looked like they'd nearly had a heart attack and Stan had to swallow a laugh. "Oh geeze Stan, you scared me!"

He couldn't not laugh at that. Y/n grew a soft smile on their face and when it grew quiet again and their eyes met, their expressions matched in a warm softness that seemed to hit Y/n hard where it hurt. Their hands dropped into their lap, their eyes moving to the ground and their smile falling away to a pained frown. Stan felt suddenly terrible. What if he'd totally ruined it with Y/n? What if they'd friend zoned him? Or worse, what if they didn't even want to be friends anymore? "...Y/n, I'm... I..." He struggled like he did when he was trying to talk to Bill. An idea struck him and he looked away from Y/n's face to a little stretch of sunlight falling against the ground next to his foot from where it had filtered through the tree tops above. "It's been weird, without you," he croaked out. "I don't know what you did but not having you there to annoy me isn't right." He looked up again, gripping his courage to say what he wanted to next while looking Y/n in the face. "I can't enjoy anything anymore."

There was a second's pause where Y/n looked at him for a very long time. It was quiet, but pleasantly so. Soon their smiles both came back. Shy and curious. It wasn't the time for either to divulge how they felt, but they both knew that this wasn't the end. Not for them. Y/n pat the spot on the blanket next to them. "I've missed you too Stan. Join me? I have juice." They reached in their ice box to grab out a second sandwich and a juice box and Stan was touched to realize Y/n had prepared to bird watch with him even though they had no reason to believe that on this day of all days he would hunt them down and join them.

He moved closer, taking the offerings and settling into his spot on the blanket. "I'd love to." The rest of the day they burd watched, the new experience melting away meteorites if the last one and making the most calm, warm atmosphere.

There was something. Something so wonderful and delicious and exciting and new and amazing; something so close it nearly drove both of them crazy. But neither would acknowledge the thing yet. They didn't want to ruin what they had now with figuring out what they could have later. It would have to wait for another time.

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tanadrin · 5 years

Text

Absolute Power

(Attention conservation notice: 4800 words of Stargate: SG-1 fanfiction)

1. Absolute Power

When Shifu lowered his hand, Daniel was, for a brief moment, astonished to find himself back in the gray-walled room. Then the realization hit, in successive waves. It had all been a dream, a vision; a lesson, really. Vivid as it was, as long as it had seemed, not even a moment had passed. None of it was real.

“Now you see?” the boy said calmly; but it wasn’t really a question.

Daniel nodded. In that brief moment he had lived--was it months? Years?--with the knowledge of the goa’uld inside him, all their technological sophistication, yes, but also their tens of thousands of years of rage, their plunder and their destruction and their burning need, above all else, for power. And he had seen what the consequence would be for someone like him: one human mind, with three and a half decades of memory and identity and intent, versus countless lifetimes? It wasn’t even a contest. Shifu had said, the only way to win is to deny the battle, but there was no battle. One man couldn’t stand against an army. Without ever realizing it, without even thinking about it, his entire view of the universe had changed in an instant, and he had betrayed everything he had ever believed in, everything he had ever fought for, everyone he had ever loved, all in the service of that hard, sharp, satisfying feeling of crushing something else beneath the heel of your shoe.

“Thank you,” he said to the boy. “Yes. Now I understand.”

Shifu nodded, satisfied. Then he looked up at the guard by the door.

“Can I go now?”

The guard looked to Daniel nervously, but Daniel just nodded; when they were gone, he sat alone in the little room, rubbing his forehead, trying to grapple with the experience he’d just had.

The thing was… it hadn’t felt like a dream. It sat in his mind like an actual memory, it felt like things he had actually done. He remembered, clearly, the choices he had made and the logic behind them. Defending Earth from the goa’uld was and had always been his priority. That was the whole reason for the SGC. He had felt, in Shifu’s vision, that for the first time he could at least understand the scope on which the goa’uld could plan things, the dizzying array of possibilities that opened up when you were functionally immortal and had millennia of looted technology available to you, and all the genetic memory of your ancestors. He had felt for the first time that he could compete with them on their own level, that they weren’t struggling in the dark against an opponent that completely outclassed them. And so he did the thing that came naturally. He put plans into motion.

This was, he supposed, the danger; that the logic of the knowledge of the goa’uld was built on a fundamentally different way of seeing the universe. A thing to be conquered, a thing to be ruled. He remembered seeing, by virtue of their genetic memory, all the way back into their primeval past on their forgotten homeworld, the dominance displays they had performed in the rivers and shallow bays, the little petty kingdoms they built to attract mates and followers, before they broke free, before they were able to build kingdoms among the stars. The problem wasn’t that the goa’uld were alien. The problem was that they were all too human. They were social animals, just like Daniel. They were makers of hierarchies. They, just like he, knew the pleasure of conquest, the pure thrill of being the winner. And that cruel, vivid pleasure had conquered him, because apparently no matter how good and wise and careful and rational you tried to be, your limbic system held all the cards, and could make you justify anything, if you had a reason to.

And he had justified it. It wasn’t real, but he’d still justified it. And like some sort of perverse figure-ground illusion, he could remember that justification, and he could still see how exactly right it had felt from the inside. He had justified not only betraying his principles, but murdering his friends, and millions of peoples besides, and even if it hadn’t been real, it had still felt perfectly all right.

To his own surprise, he realized he was sobbing--short, guttural noises that dislodged tears of frustration. He straightened up in the chair, and forced himself to take a long, deep breath. Shifu had intended only to show Daniel that the knowledge of the goa’uld could not be used safely, not by Shifu or Daniel or anyone else. But he had, perhaps quite inadvertently, shown him something else as well.

There were plans that needed to be put into motion.

2. Cure

The Pangarans were behind Earth technologically in a lot of ways, but their medical science, ghoulish as it might seem if you were goa’uld, was top-notch. Unfortunately, Egeria was dying, and there was nothing that the Pangarans, or the Tok’ra, or the SGC’s own doctors could do for her. In fact, probably the only person on the whole planet who could help her was Egeria herself.

“But even we goa’uld have no cure for old age,” she said.

Besides the sarcophagi, of course; but Daniel had not even asked about that possibility. He knew the answer already. He wasn’t a technically minded person, but he’d heard Samantha trying to explain it to Jack once, slowly and with small words. The sarcophagus was stolen technology, not designed for the goa’uld (or the human) nervous system, and it tended to alter certain elements of brain chemistry over time; alterations that with repeated use became permanent. It heightened aggression, heightened the dopamine hit from feeling like you were on the winning side. It made you feel right, all the time, and it made it basically impossible to question or interrogate that feeling. It took the worst qualities of a human or a goa’uld and magnified them ten thousand times. And because the goa’uld passed on their memories and their feelings and their emotions to their children, these qualities were only magnified with subsequent generations.

Until, somehow, Egeria came along.

“I need your help to understand some things,” he said. “And we don’t have a lot of time.”

Egeria--or her host, or both; the Tok’ra insisted blending wasn’t really like goa’uld possession, but Daniel had to admit that the distinction seemed pretty fine to him--Egeria shrugged. “Why not? But if it’s the secrets of your enemies you are looking for, I may disappoint you. I was never a very powerful goa’uld queen. And I am sure much has changed since I was imprisoned.”

“No, nothing like that,” Daniel said. “I need to understand you. As a person. Your history.”

“I thought you were an archeologist, not a biographer.”

“Archeologist, linguist, anthropologist… if my business card weren’t a threat to national security, it would be very complicated. But I need to understand how the Tok’ra came to be, because in a sense that is one of my enemy’s secrets. Or, well, it may be the key to defeating them. It’s hard to explain.”

“The story is already known to you, is it not? I rebelled against Ra; I sought to create children who lacked the greed and the destructive nature of the goa’uld. Thus the Tok’ra were born, and for that act of rebellion, I was imprisoned here, on Pangara, in the stasis jar.”

“What I don’t understand is why you made that decision. Or to be more specific, I don’t understand how you were able to make that decision. Because everything I know about the goa’uld indicates that that should not have been possible.”

“What do you mean? Do I not have free will? Shall I not be judged on my deeds like any other sentient being?”

“Yes, of course. All rational beings have to accept the consequences of their own free choices. But not all free choices are equally free. There’s, uh…” Daniel rubbed his forehead, wondering if the analogy he was about to attempt would really work across the massive culture gap between a human and a goa’uld, but he went for it anyway. “There’s a genre of fiction, a kind of story, that’s pretty popular on Earth, called ‘fantasy,’ that often depicts the struggle of good versus evil on the scale of whole cities and nations and worlds, and sometimes in order to really drive home the point that the good guys are good and the bad guys are bad, people telling fantasy stories will describe whole species or whole nations in a way that makes them irredeemably bad. Irredeemably evil. Their intrinsic nature, I mean. Always chaotic evil.”

“Like the goa’uld.”

“Yes. Like the goa’uld. I thought, until we met the Tok’ra, that the goa’uld were always chaotic evil. In a way, it was… comforting to think that. It made it easier to hate them. And even after we met the Tok’ra, there was such a clear distinction between them and the goa’uld, between your children and the children of all the other System Lords, it’s easy to forget that sometimes they’re biologically the same species. But it’s more complicated than that.”

“I don’t see how. The goa’uld are evil. If you are going to admit that the word has any meaning at all, it applies here. The children of Ra are hostile to all other beings in the universe; they are even hostile to themselves, except insofar as they choose to cooperate against outside threats. They cannot be trusted or reasoned with. Diplomacy is impossible, unless you are more powerful than they.”

“But you were born a goa’uld, and you chose to be different.”

Egeria nodded.

“I did. I… did make a choice. I don’t know why.”

“What do you remember?”

She closed her eyes; for a minute, Daniel was afraid she had lost consciousness, that his opportunity to understand had slipped him by, but then she spoke.

“I was born small, blind, and fearful, as all goa’uld are. Yet with thousands of years of memory. I did not know who I was, but I knew what I was. We have no names; did you know that? The Tok’ra do, but not the goa’uld. The names they use are the names their fearful subjects give them, or the designations their superiors impose on them. We are born so many; those who have not yet distinguished themselves are deserving of no names. In a very real sense, there was no I. Only a weak sense of self, among the many, among the great sea of ancestral memory.

“But soon I understood I was different. I did not have the same greed the others had. The same need for conquest. The same craving for power. And in that absence, I could focus on other things. I devoted my attention to the sciences, because that was what I loved most. But I ultimately could not ignore the suffering of other beings, the cruelty of my kin. So I created the Tok’ra, and ensured that they would not be like the goa’uld.”

“How did you do it?”

“I created a retrovirus that altered the structure of the goa’uld midbrain. It reduced the size of the akareish and lessened the intensity of the positive feedback provided by the ku’kra. Forgive me. I don’t think there are words in your language for these things. I ensured the changes were heritable. And I passed on only part of my memories. All the most important things. But… there were things they didn’t need to know to survive, to thrive in the galaxy. They needed to know of the horrors of the goa’uld, but perhaps not… perhaps not what it felt like to commit those horrors. And to enjoy them.”

“I get it.”

“I remember. I wish I did not. But I do.”

“Did you ever examine yourself? To try to figure out why you were different? Whether it was, I don’t know, a genetic mutation of some sort.”

“I did not. I was… I am afraid of the answer. It pains me to admit that; but I am dying, and it seems that now is a bad time to keep secrets.”

“Afraid? Why afraid?”

“Consider the possibilities. Either I am no better than any of the others--Ra, Apophis, Baal--no different, or… or I am, and only by some twist of fate I was lucky enough not to share in their nature. That, really, I am the only goa’uld with free will. As you said, not all free choices are equally free. Can a being constrained by its very nature to lack empathy, to need the suffering of others to be happy, be condemned for its choices? Opposed, surely. But condemned? You do not condemn the predator for devouring the prey. But that analogy never sat right with me where my kindred were concerned. I do not want it to be true.”

“Did you ever try to persuade someone else to your point of view? One of the other goa’uld?”

“No. Never. It would have been useless, and put me in mortal danger.”

“Are you sure about that, that it would have been useless?”

“I was born believing utterly in the rightness of the ways of the goa’uld. When I confronted those lies for what they were, the pain nearly drove me to suicide. I cannot imagine any of my brethren choosing that pain for themselves, and certainly not because of something as trivial as mere empathy for lesser beings.”

“But you chose it. Maybe others would, if they were given the chance.”

“Oh, Daniel Jackson. You poor child. I understand now. You are that rarest of all the creatures in the universe. You are an optimist.”

3. Full Circle

On the best days, the best part of every mission, Daniel thought, was the quiet aftermath: when you went to bed knowing that you did good, that you did right, that you made somebody’s (or some planet’s) day a little bit better. And on the worst days, the worst part was the same: living with yourself in the dark space between being awake and sleeping, when you could not hide from your doubts and your grief and your self-recriminations.

Most of all, at those hours, Daniel thought of Sha’re; how could he think of anything else? She was everything he had ever looked for in his life, and he could not save her. She had always looked at him with the quiet, loving certainty that he could do anything, that he was terrific and wonderful and the strongest, most capable man in the galaxy. And he did not save her.

Daniel often did not sleep well. Tonight, as he lay in the darkness, he wondered if he would ever sleep again. He had failed to save Sha’re and now she was dead. He had failed to save Abydos, and now Skaara and Kusuf and all his friends and in-laws there, they were dead, too. He had asked his therapist, after Sha’re had died, how you lived with grief like this. How you kept getting up in the morning and going to work and feeding yourself and going through the gate and coming back, knowing it would never, ever get any better, than this was something that could never be fixed. “Do you want the comforting answer, or the real answer?” his therapist had said; and because he was an emotional masochist at heart, Daniel had asked for the real one. “You keep going because you have no other choice,” she’d said. “And because all you can do is your utmost to make sure nobody else has to suffer the same way you’re suffering right now.”

So Daniel had kept doing what he did. But now the worst had happened again, and he didn’t know how he was going to survive it.

He rolled over in his bed, turned the pillow over, and then punched it in frustration. There was no way he was going to sleep. He sat up and turned on the light, and that was when he realized he wasn’t alone. There was a woman, attractive and middle-aged, with a warm, maternal face, sitting in the chair by the window, looking out at the street below.

“Oma Desala,” he said. She looked at him and smiled.

“Daniel. It’s been a while.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I take an interest in your life, you know. I like to check on you from time to time. See how you’re doing.”

“You’re an ascended being,” he said flatly, by which he meant, that still doesn’t explain what the hell you’re doing in my bedroom.

“I wanted to ease your mind a little bit, if I could,” she said.

“Anubis destroyed Abydos. As I’m sure you know. I don’t really think you can help with that, unless you and the other ancients have decided to bring it back.”

Oma shook her head. “No, not that. I wish I could. It was a terrible thing. But the Abydonians aren’t dead. I helped them to ascend. All of them.”

Daniel stared at her, trying to understand the magnitude of what she was saying. “All of them?”

“Every last one.”

Tears of relief sprang unbidden to his eyes. And tears of anger.

“I don’t get you people,” he said quietly.

“You don’t approve?” Oma said dryly.

“You’re so… capricious. You ascended beings, all of you. The others lay down the law against interference. You break it, help other beings ascend. Then along comes Anubis, you fuck up, the others de-ascend him but only a little, and let him wreak havoc on the rest of us just to teach you a lesson. Which doesn’t work, because you’re an incorrigible little puck, even when it gets millions of people killed. And then you save a whole planet just for fun.”

“Should I have let them die?”

“You shouldn’t let anyone die!” Daniel realized he was out of bed now, standing, and yelling at her. “If you can save all of Abydos, you can save the entire galaxy! No one should have to die! No one, ever. Fine! Let the goa’uld and Anubis and the Replicators and every other terror in the universe run rampant, but you could at least save them in the end, and you don’t. You dip in and out of our lives, and pretend like you possess vast wisdom we can’t comprehend, and maybe you do, but that doesn’t mean we’re wrong. It just means you’re arrogant as hell!”

Oma smiled sadly. “You might be right, Daniel. Just because we’re on a higher plane of existence doesn’t mean we’re right. It doesn’t even mean we’re good. We do try to be. And we don’t always agree on methods. You certainly didn’t, when you were one of us.”

Daniel froze. “What are you talking about?”

“You were, very briefly, an ascended being. After the accident on Langara. Do you remember? You were dying of radiation poisoning.”

“Yeah. And then suddenly I wasn’t, and no one knew why. You had something to do with that?”

“Indirectly. I offered you a choice. I couldn’t save your life directly. I wanted to. Insofar as there’s any flexibility in the rules the others have set for me, I try to do what I can to make the galaxy a better place. And saving your life, I reckoned, would do a lot to further that goal. But all I could do was offer you ascension instead, help you along that path in the moments before your death. So I offered, and you accepted.”

“I did?”

“Access to nearly limitless knowledge is a hard offer for someone like you to turn down. Yes, you accepted. And then just as quickly, the others forced you to return.”

“I thought they didn’t interfere in ascensions?”

“They don’t. No, they leave me that. It was once you did once you were ascended that forced them to intervene.”

“I expect I tried to wipe out the System Lords or something.”

“Just one in particular. You saw the threat Anubis presented. You understood the rules, of course--you understood a lot of things in that moment--but you weighed the risk of breaking them against the risk Anubis posed to the galaxy, and in that moment you did everything in your considerable power to try to stop him.”

“I tried to kill him?”

Oma shook her head.

“Not at all. You tried… something else. Something very unexpected. Your heart was in the right place, but you broke the letter of the rules. The others didn’t want to punish you too harshly, so they sent you back.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Daniel, it’s not in my power to save every dying soul in the galaxy. Yes, it’s for reasons I can’t explain to you, because you’re not an ascended being, and yes that’s frustrating, and yes, you just have to accept it. I made a mistake a long time ago, with Anubis. A lot of people have suffered as a result of that mistake, and while you can blame the ancients, and you can blame Anubis himself, some of that blame has to fall on me. Until now, I’ve never known how to correct that mistake. I could devote all my energy and all my attention to fighting Anubis. I can’t kill him, of course, but I could keep him occupied--at the cost of being far too occupied myself to ever help another being ascend, to ever save another soul from death. I don’t know whether that’s the right trade off to make. Even if it is, I don’t know whether I’m capable of it.

“But I have been watching you. I have seen what you’re working on. I think you’re on the right track. I just don’t think you’re aiming high enough, and there are tools you’re missing. I want to help.”

4. Reckoning

For a split second, all of creation seemed to hold its breath as Anubis stood over the console at the heart of the Dakara temple; in a very real sense, the entire galaxy was moments from destruction.

They had a plan. It was, as Jack had pointed out, “A bad plan, no, insane,” but a plan nonetheless. And he hadn’t needed to convince Jack--just Samantha and Jonas and Teal’c and General Hammond, after which Jack had reluctantly gone along with it like he usually did. There was, even if he didn’t like to admit it, something in Jack O’Neill that loved a crazy plan.

Three things happened in rapid succession. First, a blast of energy knocked Anubis backward, away from the console; second, there was a brilliant flash of light as an Asgardian transporter engaged; third, there was a great silence, as the battle outside ceased.

“Okay,” Jack said, picking himself up off the flagstones and brushing the dust off his pants. “Time to go see if this worked.” He extended a hand to help Daniel up, and they went over and stood on the platform.

“Two to beam up,” he said into his radio.

There was another flash of light, and they were standing on the bridge of the O’Neill, Thor’s battlecruiser. The Asgardian was sitting in the command chair; next to him stood Samantha and Teal’c, and he was looking across the room, with intense focus, at the prisoner.

“Everything OK up here?” Jack asked.

“Indeed,” Thor said. “I was… quite alarmed when I read the outline of Dr. Jackson’s plan, but I believe the preparations you made are adequate.” He gestured at the Sangraal, the little machine plugged into a console to one side. “This curious device has been modified as instructed. I believe it can contain Anubis indefinitely.”

Daniel looked across the room. The forcefield was holding; Anubis was bellowing something muted and indistinct inside it, and Oma stood nearby, ready to intervene if necessary.

“We can alter the forcefield to permit communication,” Sam said.

“Or, y’know, we can just dump him into a black hole,” Jack said. Daniel glared at him. “Just a thought.”

Daniel walked over to the forcefield. Almost as an afterthought, he unclipped his gun and laid it down next to him. Sam tapped a few buttons on a console, and Anubis’s voice was suddenly distinct.

“--OUT OF THIS PRISON AT ONCE. YOU PUNY TAU’RI WILL FEEL MY WRATH!”

“Oh, zip it,” Daniel said. “You System Lords are all the same. You’re gonna rant for a while, then get bored, then try to bargain, with every intention of reneging on the deal as soon as you can. You’re not getting out. That’s the first thing you need to confront. That--” he pointed at the Sangraal-- “can kill ascended beings. Or, with some modifications, hold them indefinitely. Oma here--you remember Oma--is here to make sure that if you do somehow escape, you don’t get very far.”

This is where Daniel was pretty sure Anubis’s eyes would have narrowed, if he had them.

“Ascended beings aren’t permitted to interfere in this plane of existence,” he growled.

“Sure. Yes. Absolutely.” Daniel scratched his head. “Exceeept I think the others are quite happy to let Oma do all the interfering she wants if it’s to correct a certain mistake she made a long time ago, involving a certain half-ascended System Lord. Well, so far they haven’t stopped her, anyway.”

“Kill me and be done with it then!”

“Tempting, tempting. That was certainly Jack’s vote. And Teal’c’s. And, well, everybody else’s at first. I can see the logic to it.”

“Perhaps you seek instead to profit from my knowledge?”

“Actually, no. No, I don’t think so. We have something else in mind.”

“Spit it out!”

“Hmm, how do I explain this. I don’t think the Dungeons and Dragons analogy is really right here. Er… do you know the story of the goa’uld Egeria?”

“The mother of the Tok’ra? Pah!”

“Yes, that’s the one. She died not too long ago. I’ve been thinking about her a lot over the last few years. Interesting person. We asked the Tok’ra if we could run some genetic tests on her after she died, and do you know what we found?”

Silence.

“Nothing. Nothing at all! She was totally indistinguishable from any other goa’uld we’d ever encountered. Except of course the Tok’ra. They’re a little different, but just a little.”

“What foolish nonsense are you talking about? What does any of this have to do with anything?!”

“A lot, actually. I’m not explaining it very well. Sorry, it’s been a long day. A long five or six years, actually. And I knew this would be hard, because I don’t like you very much. In fact, every part of me is screaming at me to hate you right now. To walk over there and find the button marked ‘kill this asshole,’ and to push it, because that part of me is one hundred percent convinced that that’s all you deserve. That this whole plan of capturing you was a mistake, and we should just abort it right now. But Egeria is one reason I’m not doing that. Not the only reason. I think… I think I would be doing it anyway, because of what Shifu showed me. I hope I would be, anyway. Because I don’t believe there’s any such thing as an always chaotic evil creature. I don’t believe anything as similar to me as a goa’uld--don’t laugh! It’s true--who can also think and feel and want and hope and dream, and yes, love and hate and all the rest of it, is really irredeemable. I mean, maybe you are. Just because somebody has the capacity for good doesn’t mean they ever have to realize it. God knows there are plenty of humans who never do. But human lives are short. Human memories are short. Humans have seen a lot less of the universe than any goa’uld. And all the other goa’uld have seen a lot less of it than you.”

“Get to the point, you irritating little worm.”

“Okay. Here’s my point. Oma and I are going to keep you here as long as it takes. Not here on this ship, we’ll probably have to move you to the gamma site or something at some point, but in this prison. And we’re going to talk. We’re going to teach you the one thing you don’t already know, that all that ascended knowledge floating around in that… weird empty space where your brain should be, that that knowledge hasn’t shown you. The one thing that maybe can make all the suffering you’ve caused, and all Oma’s mistakes, and all the arrogance of the ascended worthwhile. And maybe, just maybe, redeem your entire species. Anubis, son of Osiris and Isis, System Lord of the Goa’uld, we’re going to teach you how to be good.”

#tanadrin's fiction #fanfiction #stargate sg-1

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thinkingagain · 5 years

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The wolf bared his teeth. “I was sent here to thank some great warrior in the animal cause. Instead I see a dainty little character wearing Beast clothes with preening self-satisfaction.”

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest (A Novel of the Revolution) Book Two: Empire Chapter 18

Sir Sleepy of the Bunny Nest walked along the Demesne grounds, looking at the trees and hills, listening to the birds. He stood and watched a blue jay dart between branches. He reveled in the distinct aromas of every plant and clump of grass, every mound of sweet Piedmont earth and tangy fermented rot. The sights and sounds and smells of the Piedmont grounded him, as they had his whole miraculous life.

Still, knowledge and suspicion tugged at his chest like a disease. Maybe to fight against Beasts meant becoming contaminated by them, to the point that one sickened and died. Their bloody dreams had entered his own bloodstream maybe. He felt those dreams all the time, the behavior they led to. Bragging, lying, squabbling. Constant attempts to maintain petty hierarchies no matter who got hurt. Insane and mindless brutality.

He picked up his pace, although he wasn’t headed anywhere. His own thoughts were chasing him, and he wasn’t sure how to escape. Maybe, after he tired himself out, he would find a spot of soft grass and lie there looking at the sky.

Ahead of him on the trail, a patch of white changed position. The Sir looked up quickly. He hadn’t been properly surveying his surroundings.

On the path ahead of him stood a large white male wolf. He looked well-fed. His legs were knobby and scarred and powerful. He stared at the Sir intently, with an expression whose implications weren’t clear.

The Sir was no longer afraid of other animals, however ferocious they might seem. He understood though the importance of respecting them, and he was still a rabbit, and a wolf a wolf. Wolves were among the proudest and freest animals, reserved and fierce and often deadly, relentless in their refusal to collaborate or negotiate with Beasts. Although wolves were no more a match for Beasts than any other animal, wolves had fought back and managed to survive even after Beasts had tried many times to exterminate them from the planet. Wolves had earned admiration and needed to be treated with caution.

The Sir approached the wolf slowly, his sword ready, expression welcoming, ears relaxed. When he had come a bit closer he said, “We have never had a wolf visit the Demesne. I am glad you’ve come.” Still not able to read the wolf’s expression, he stayed a distance away on the path.

“You’re the Sir?” The wolf’s voice was rough and skeptical. “The one who led the attack on the helicopters?”

“I am.” The Sir nodded. “And you are?”

“The wolves of our region figured out what you did for them.” The wolf didn’t give his name. “I’ve been sent here to thank you.”

The wolf’s gruff tone didn’t sound like one of thanks. Still, the Sir took a small bow. “If I and the Demesne have been of some service to you, then I am glad.”

“I have to admit,” the wolf said, “that you don’t look like I expected. You’re a warrior?” He looked the Sir up and down, disbelieving. “What is it you have on you there? That gold thing with blue stars?”

“It is the attire originally given to me by The Magic Rabbit. That special bunny, and Mr. Puffy, first helped me begin my quest. I assume you know them?”

“I can’t say I do, actually.” The wolf shook his head. “Do they make everyone they meet wear things like little imitation Beasts?”

The Sir caught his breath, and his ears tensed. “I am not sure whether you mean to insult me by that. I imagine you are not used to the ways of the Demesne. Our standards of politeness are likely different than your own.”

“How about that?” The wolf’s tone was both wondering and dismissive. “The great Sir turns out to be more than a little anthropomorphic. That’s a pretty high price to pay for your fame, don’t you think?”

“I am not acquainted with the word,” the Sir said.

“Oh.” The wolf’s voice was now unmistakably not just proud, but haughty. “It means what happens to an animal when it becomes like a Beast. Usually it’s thought that only Beasts try to make animals anthropomorphic. I see now that animals are capable of mocking themselves the same way.”

Stung, the Sir flinched. Hadn’t suspected the same problem on the day he had been given his suit of stars? Hadn’t the concern stayed knocking around in the back of his mind? “I am proud of my suit. It was given to me by animals who have helped me fight in the cause of other animals. If you do not respect what we have done, that’s your right. There’s no need for you to be here. You came freely, and you may leave freely.”

“What’s the point of fighting Beasts,” the wolf said, ‘if you become just like them? What good does it do to prove that an animal can become as effective at being a Beast as a Beast can?”

“Are you saying I am a Beast?” The Sir’s voice was no longer polite. “Because it is untrue, and I ask you to retract it.”

“I don’t know you.” The wolf bared his teeth. “I was sent here to thank some great warrior in the animal cause. Instead I see a dainty little character wearing Beast clothes with preening self-satisfaction. I was expecting a fighter, not some odd cross-species diplomat who’s going to save animals from Beasts by turning us all into Beasts. You’ll excuse me if I’m speaking my mind. Maybe you don’t do that here on your mighty Demesne.”

“We all speak our minds at the Demesne.” The Sir’s muscles grew tight as he attempted to stay still. This wolf was welcome to insult him, but not to insult his brave companions. “I doubt that making untrue accusations in a rude tone to animals you don’t know is a way to defend animal rights.”

“I’m a wolf,” the wolf growled, “and I’m all wolf. I was born a wolf, I’m going to live as a wolf, and I’ll die a wolf.” He glared threateningly and took a pace closer. “Even if every other animal wants to turn into its own nice prim polite Beast.”

“I could commend that attitude, were it not accompanied by a willful desire to demean those who do not live like you.” The Sir’s back legs grew taut, ready to spring the moment he was attacked. “It is false pride, to take your own standards as the standards for all other animals. To fight for animals is to fight for all kinds. That includes horses in stalls and cats on Beast fences and even those dogs who love Beasts with all their dog hearts.” His ears began to pin back in rage.

The wolf stalked slowly towards the Sir. “Whatever you have to say to get by and not hate yourself is okay with me. Little half and half.”

Half and half? The Sir’s ears flew up. Wasn’t that one of the terms hateful Beasts had used to describe the Madam? It flashed into him what was happening. “You are not a wolf at all,” he said.

“Enough of one to kill a little mixed race mongrel like you.”

The Sir drew his sword. “You’re no wolf,” he shouted, sure of himself now. “You’re a Beast in wolf’s clothing.”

The wolf crouched, ready to attack. Then his white fur wavered and dimmed in the air, as if he was becoming translucent, nearly like the Demesne wall. For a moment he snapped back into full wolf presence, then dimmed again, his image wavering even more thinly than before.

As if behind the wolf or inside him, the image of a Beast appeared, a tall Beast with brown hair that grew white around its ears. Its eyes were dark rings inside dark rings, reflecting caverns of sadness and longing that seemed to pull the Sir forward towards them. The Beastly image reached out a Fleshy Piedmont towards the Sir, as if in a kind of plea.

Then the Beast image and the wolf image flashed into nothingness together. The Sir stood alone on the path.

“I was right,” the Sir said at the trees along the path. “That was no wolf visiting the Demesne. Wolves have their own ways and do not stray from them. But a Commandant?” He shook his head, grimly determined. “I see now that there is no subterfuge that a Commandant will shrink from, and no brave animal that it will not try to control.”

Heading back to talk with the others, he could see something else. Sometimes an idea that couldn’t be proved still seemed unquestionably true. Whatever doubts logic might introduce, the Sir was sure that what he had seen, beneath the wolf image, was a visual projection of the Commandant itself.

#bunny #rabbit #revolution #empire #satire #animals #animal rights #politics #adventure #theory #fantasy #science fiction #environmentalism #sir sleepy

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

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RWBY Recaps: The Shining Beacon Pt. 1

This is a reposting from October 4th, 2017 in an effort to get all my recaps onto tumblr. Thanks!

Welcome back, welcome back. We're starting off this recap exactly where we left off--with Ruby, Yang, and Jaune approaching Beacon--which gives the first two episodes a cohesive feeling, like they're just one episode sliced in half. RWBY gets better at this as the volumes go on, but Volume 1 in particular reads less like distinct stories and more like one story that was divided up, if only because our expectations regarding form demand it. I'd love to see a supercut of Volume 1 with the credits removed to see how well it all actually flows together.

After getting another shot of Beacon we're treated to a scene of Jaune rushing off the airship and vomiting copiously into a very convenient trashcan. It's a bold way to introduce a character, especially since we've already had four trailers displaying the girls' skills, an episode all about Ruby's moral compass, and a decent amount of time showcasing Yang's sisterly devotion. Making Jaune into "vomit boy" is comparatively cruel--which is largely the point. Though he'll get his character development soon enough (a bit in this episode, actually) RWBY is making sure we're clear about where their loyalties lie, so to speak. Though they're working with a very large cast, they're much more concerned with emulating magical girl storylines (Sailor Moon, Powerpuff Girls, Puella Magi Madoka Magic) than they are the lone, male shounen hero (Naruto, Fullmetal Alchemist, Dragonball Z). By taking the blonde-haired knight stereotype and reimagining him as the fool, RWBY ensures that we know who the "real" heroes of the story are. Jaune absolutely becomes a hero too as RWBY continues, but his status as "vomit boy" reassures us that he's not going to dominate the narrative.

Instead Ruby and Yang leave him behind as they exit the airship, surrounded by more hilarious silhouette people. I'd actually love it if RWBY came up with an in-universe explanation for this (beyond the great RWBY Chibi skit). Maybe there really is a whole species of people out there made entirely of shadows!

Hell, stranger things have happened in this show.

As they reach Beacon's courtyard Ruby becomes so excited by everyones' weaponry that she turns into a chibi version of herself, another technique that touches on RWBY's anime roots and that will eventually be left behind. As the series gets darker we see fewer of these non-diegetic details, like Ruby spinning with swirly eyes or Jaune geeking out over detective badges with literal stars spouting up around him. Though these techniques do an excellent job of conveying emotion to the viewer, they have a kiddie feel to them that becomes out of place post "Beginning of the End."

For now though Ruby is enthralled. At Yang's insistence that they're "just weapons" Ruby exclaims, "Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves. They're a part of us!"

(Art by Eunnieverse)

This is a fantastic bit of world building. As we learn later in the episode, Ruby (like all Signal students, and presumably most Huntsmen) built her own weapon, designing and crafting it over who knows how many years, suggesting that, yes, in this universe weapons really are an extension of the self. We can thus read characterization in each person's choice. Roman, who uses manners as his decoy, keeps a dapper cane with a hidden pistol inside. Glynda embodies order to contrast Ozpin's more free spirit, so she directs all of her power through a riding crop. Meanwhile Ruby is the "adorable girl" who will continually defy expectations. Thus, she wields a scythe that's taller than she is and that's also a "high impact sniper rifle,” the exact opposite of what we’d expect a cute teen to carry. Despite her sister's teasing that Ruby needs to make some real friends, she's right that in Remnant meeting new weapons is a lot like meeting new people.

Speaking of friends, Yang ditches Ruby for hers... who are promptly never mentioned again. They're clearly just a plot device to get Ruby on her own, but like our silhouette people (of which Yang's group is a part) I'd love an explanation for how she got in good with this Beacon group before ever setting foot on campus. Or whether they’re all Signal graduates who then, presumably, should all be pretty close...

Regardless, poor Ruby is left floundering, wondering where she's supposed to go or what she's supposed to do. I feel ya. She ends up collapsing into a massive pile of luggage.

Ruby: "I don't know what I'm doing."

"What are you doing?"

Nice parallel there! Enter Weiss, the owner of said luggage, who is literally framed as the bossy, dominant personality as she towers over Ruby.

We get more world building/exposition as Weiss yells about what dust is and what it can do. Her anger is, surprisingly, not just stemming from a rich girl having her stuff messed with, but because Ruby is knocking into cases chock-full of an explosive substance. Were any of these cases to break they might set off a rather violent reaction--as we see when Ruby sneezes into a cloud of dust and lightning erupts. The irony is that this only happens because Weiss is shaking the bottle of dust erratically in Ruby's face. I love these little moments that highlight how these girls are still kids in many respects, capable of doing stupid things even as they play at being mature.

Still disgusted with Ruby's behavior, Weiss asks, "Aren't you a little young to be attending Beacon?" which tells us that, yeah, Ruby does look young. It's hard to tell with Rooster Teeth's art style, but here we're explicitly told that Ruby looks like a child compared to the other students. Her age is recognizable. That will impact how others relate to and (in some cases) underestimate her.

We learn that Beacon isn't your "ordinary combat school" (what does that mean exactly? Are there other upper-level schools where the students train but don't fight live Grimm?) and Ruby finally looses her patience with all the lecturing.

Ruby: "I said I was sorry, Princess."

"It's Heiress, actually."

Enter Blake. For a millisecond Weiss is thrilled that someone is showing her the respect she thinks she deserves, until Blake follows that little correction up with a list of critiques, including the Schnee's "controversial labor forces and questionable business partners"--more on that as it develops. Ruby cracks up, clearly more interested in Weiss getting her just desserts than thinking through the implications of Blake's words. She then wanders off before Ruby can introduce herself.

The team is now technically complete, even if the girls don't know it yet. Again, RWBY is rather blunt when it comes to many narrative devices. With the exception of Jaune we know exactly who our protagonists are by order of who the show has bothered to introduce to us.

Ruby is still at a loss though. She hilariously collapses in the courtyard and lies there until "vomit boy" gets his real introduction.

I honestly don't understand why so much of the fandom hates on Jaune (except logically I do: it stems from a dual worry that Jaune will sideline our female cast and that he’s become a full-fledged Gary Stu BUT). He's just a nice guy here, and I do mean literally nice, not a Nice Guy with a capital 'N' and 'G.' Yes, we see his misogynistic views that he'll heap on Weiss with, "Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it” and his inappropriate insistence thatt she date him, but Jaune deliberately comes across as someone emulating bad advice about how to make friends/find a date. From the start we’re meant to understand that his perception is inaccurate and he will (as seen) grow out of it. To say nothing of the fact that the narrative undermines his views twice with Ruby's "Do they?" and his more genuine belief that "Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet." That's the real Jaune Arc.

He and Ruby wander off together and it's here that we get our first glimpse at Pumpkin Pete under Jaune's armor. I'm honestly impressed that Rooster Teeth had that detail in right from the start.

They talk weaponry, with Ruby showing off Crescent Rose--"It's also a gun"--and Jaune getting self-conscious about his hand-me-downs. Besides him staring up at Beacon's statue in the opening credits, this is our first hint that Jaune comes from a long line of prestigious Huntsmen. It also provides a contrast between what fighting Grimm once was and what it has now become. Jaune's weapons are a simple sword and a shield whose only 'upgrade' is that it gets smaller so you can put it on your belt, but of course it still weighs the same. Ruby, meanwhile, has three forms of Crescent Rose: storage, sniper rifle, and scythe, and she can use all three in a variety of ways. In short, fighting Grimm has become incredibly high-tech, suggesting that the fight itself is always getting harder. Swords and shields just don't cut it anymore even if they, like Jaune, are "classic."

They keep wandering, realizing too late that each was following the other and they still have no idea where they're heading. Like Yang's vomit panic last episode, "The Shining Beacon" ends on a lighthearted note with Jaune wondering if there's a foodcourt nearby.

There is and you're both going to help destroy it in the most epic food fight imaginable.

But that's a whole Volume off.

Until next time~

#rwby #mymetas #RWBY Recaps

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7r0773r · 4 years

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Why Fish Don’t Exist: A Story of Loss, Love, and the Hidden Order of Life by Lulu Miller

Specifically, [Louis] Agassiz believed that hiding in nature was a divine hierarchy of God’s creations that, if gleaned, would provide moral instruction. This idea of a moral code hidden in nature—a hierarchy, a ladder or “gradation” of perfection—has been with us for a long time. Aristotle envisioned a holy ladder—later Latinized to Scala Naturae—in which all living organisms could be arranged in a continuum of lowly to divine, with humans at the top, followed by animals, insects, plants, rocks, and so on. And Agassiz believed that by arranging these organisms into their proper order, one could come to discern not just the intent of a holy maker but perhaps even the instructions for how to become better. (p. 25)

***

There’s an idea in philosophy that certain things don’t exist until they get a name. Abstract things like justice, nostalgia, infinity, love, or sin. The thinking goes that these concepts do not sit out there on some ethereal plane waiting to be discovered by humans but instead snap into being when someone invents a name for them. The moment the name is uttered, the concept becomes “real,” in the sense that it can affect reality. We can declare war, truce, bankruptcy, love, innocence, or guilt, and in so doing, change the course of people’s lives. The name itself is a thing of great power, then, the vessel that drags the idea from the imaginary to the earthly realm. Before the word, however, the thinking goes, the concept is largely inert. (p. 63)

***

So there it was. As David swept up the glass in his lab, as he began to try to piece his life back together, the thing he was whispering to himself was a lie.

It is the will of man that shapes the fates.

It was shocking to see, a surprise based on everything he stood for. But considering the fact that David ultimately ended up being able to salvage so much of his collection, considering that thousands of specimens remain today over a century later, considering that by so many measures David Starr Jordan’s life turned out to be one of unusual success—the wives, the presidencies, the awards, the Garden of Eden complete with dog-riding monkeys and Latin-speaking parrots and taxonomy-loving children—I was beginning to wonder if self-delusion was such a bad thing. Maybe he and my father didn’t need to be so moralistic about it, calling it a sin to avoid at all costs. (p. 97)

***

And then there was that key point in On the Origin of Species. That crucial point that somehow both David and before him Francis Galton had missed. What does Darwin say is the best way of building a strong species, of allowing it to endure into the future, to withstand the blows of Chaos in all her mighty forms—flood, drought, rising sea levels, fluctuating temperatures, invasions of competitors, predators, pests?

Variation. Variation in genes, and hence in behavior and physical traits. Homogeneity is a death sentence. To rid a species of its mutants and outliers is to make that species dangerously vulnerable to the elements. In nearly every chapter of Origin, Darwin hails the power of "Variation." He marvels over how diverse gene pools are healthier and stronger, how intercrossing between different types of individuals gives more "vigor and fertility" to their offspring, how even worms and plants that can produce perfect replicas of themselves are equipped for sex, for introducing variety back into the gene pool. "How strange are these facts!" he cries. "How simply are these facts explained on the view of an occasional cross with a distinct individual being advantageous or indispensable!"

"Diversify your genetic portfolio" would be another way of saying it. You never know which traits could prove useful as conditions change. Darwin even goes out of his way to warn against meddling, The danger, as he sees it, is the fallibility of the human eye, our inability to comprehend complexity. Traits that might seem "abhorrent to our ideas of fitness" could actually be beneficial to a species or ecosystem, or could, in time, become beneficial as conditions change. It was that ungainly neck that gave the giraffe an edge over its competitors, the seeming deadweight of blubber that allowed the seal to thrive in the advancing cold, the divergent human brain that might hold the key to inventions, discoveries, and revolutions that the majority is unable to fathom. "Man can act only on external and visible characters; nature cares nothing for appearances. . . . She can act on every internal organ, on every shade of constitutional difference, on the whole machinery of life."

Consider the case of the cyanobacteria. A tiny green speck in the sea, so insignificant to the human eye that for centuries we didn't even have a name for it. Until one day in the 1980s when scientists accidentally discovered it was producing a significant portion of the oxygen we breathe. Now we revere it, this tiny green speck, Prochlorococcus marinus; we fight to protect it. This was the kind of scenario Darwin prophesied. Why he warned, so unambiguously, against attempting to rank Earth's bounty: "Which group will prevail, no man can predict."

And this wariness, this humility, this reverence for an ecological complexity that defies human comprehension is, in fact, a very old idea. It's a basic philosophical concept sometimes called the "dandelion principle": in some contexts a dandelion might be considered a weed to be culled; in others, it's a valuable medicinal herb to be cultivated.

The eugenicists failed to consider this very simple principle of relativity. By trying to cull the gene pool of its "indispensable" variety, they were in fact foiling their very best shot of building a master race. (pp. 133-35)

***

I had been fashioning myself after a villain, after all. (p. 143)

***

"I just wish he had considered what Oliver Cromwell once said," Luther Spoehr told me on the phone one June morning, as he tried to make sense of this man he had studied for so many years. "I beseech thee in the bowels of Christ, consider that thee might be mistaken.'"

"Are you saying you wish he had more doubt?" I asked.

"Yup."

But he didn't. Despite his prophet's warning that "science, generally, hates beliefs"—David held fast to this idea of a ladder. He clung to it, in the face of waves of counterevidence that should have eventually eroded it.

When Darwin came along, debunking the idea of a divine plan, David accepted that Earth's creatures had come about accidentally. But he somehow found a way to preserve the idea of a hierarchy of perfection. He told himself that time, not God, had forged its shape—the slow tick of time forming fitter, more intelligent, more morally advanced forms of life.

When he encountered the growing chorus of opposition to his eugenics agenda, when judges and lawyers and governors began trying to overturn eugenic laws, he wrote them off as sentimental, unscientific. When scientists began to question eugenics, to point out all its shoddy assumptions about the heritability of morality, about the concept of degeneration, he questioned their courage, their commitment to the cause of bettering society.

But perhaps the most damning argument came from nature herself. Had David followed his own advice to look to nature for truth, he would have seen it. This dazzling, feathery, squawking, gurgling mound of counterevidence. Animals can outperform humans on nearly every measure supposedly associated with our superiority. There are crows that have better memories than us, chimps with better pattern-recognition skills, ants that rescue their wounded, and blood flukes with higher rates of monogamy. When you actually examine the range of life on Earth, it takes a lot of acrobatics to sort it into a single hierarchy with humans at the top. We don't have the biggest brain or the best memory. We're not the fastest or the strongest or the most prolific. We're not the only ones that mate for life, that show altruism, use tools, language. We don't have the most copies of genes in circulation. We aren't even the newest creation on the block.

This was what Darwin was trying so hard to get his readers to see. There is no ladder. Natura non facit saltunt, he cries in his scientist's tongue. There are no "jumps." The rungs we see are figments of our imagination, more about "convenience” than truth. To Darwin, a parasite was not an abomination but a marvel. A case of extraordinary adaptability. The sheer range of creatures in existence, great and small, feathered and glowing, goitered and smooth, was proof that there are endless ways of surviving and thriving in this world.

So why was David unable to see it? This mountain of counterevidence stacked up against his faith in a ladder. Why would he protect it, this arbitrary belief about how plants and creatures should be arranged? When challenged, why would he only double down and use it to justify such violent measures?

Perhaps because his belief gave him something more important than truth.

Not just that first spark of purpose as a young man on Penikese, not just a career and a cause and a wife and a cushy life. But something even more profound. A way of turning that roiling morass, of the sea, of the stars, of his dizzying life, into clear, shining order.

To let go, at any point—from his first read of Darwin to his last push for eugenics—would have been to invite a return to vertigo. He would have been transported back to being that lost little boy, shaking before a world that had just taken his brother. A terrified child, powerless before the world, with no way of understanding or controlling it. To let go of that hierarchy would be to release a tornado of life, beetles and hawks and bacteria and sharks, swirling high into the air, all around him, above him.

It would have been too disorienting.

It would have been Chaos.

It would have been—

—the very same vision of the world I myself had been fighting so hard not to look at ever since I was a little girl. That sense of falling off the edge of the world, plummeting alongside ants and stars, with no purpose or point. Of glimpsing the glaring, relentless truth so clear from inside the swirl of Chaos. You don’t matter.

That’s what the ladder offered David. An antidote. A foothold. The lovely, warm feeling of significance.

In that light, I could understand why he clung to it so tightly, this vision of a natural order. Why he protected it so ferociously—against morality, against reason, against truth. Even as I despised him for it, on some level I craved the very same thing. (pp. 145-47)

***

And that’s when it hit me. That it was not a lie to say that Anna matters. Or that Mary matters. Or that—hold on to your seat—you matter, Reader.

It wasn’t a lie to say so, but a more accurate way of seeing nature.

It was the dandelion principle!

To some people a dandelion might look like a weed, but to others that same plant can be so much more. To an herbalist, it’s a medicine—a way of detoxifying the liver, clearing the skin, and strengthening the eyes. To a painter, it’s a pigment; to a hippie, a crown; a child, a wish. To a butterfly, it’s sustenance; to a bee, a mating bed; to an ant, one point in a vast olfactory atlas.

And so it must be with humans, with us. From the perspective of the stars or infinity or some eugenic dream of perfection, sure, one human life might not seem to matter. It might be a speck on a speck on a speck, soon gone. But that was just one of infinite perspectives. From the perspective of an apartment in Lynchburg, Virginia, that very same human could be so much more. A stand-in mother. A source of laughter. A way of surviving one’s darkest years.

This was what Darwin was trying so hard to get his readers to see: that there is never just one way of ranking nature’s organisms. To get stuck on a single hierarchy is to miss the bigger picture, the messy truth of nature, the “whole machinery of life.” The work of good science is to try to peer beyond the “convenient” lines we draw over nature. To peer beyond intuition, where something wilder lives. To know that in every organism at which you gaze, there is complexity you will never comprehend.

As I kept driving, I pictured all the dandelions in the whole wide world nodding their heads in unison at me finally getting it, waving beyond my wheels, shaking their yellow pom-poms, cheering me on. At long last, I had found it, a retort to my father. We matter, we matter. In tangible, concrete ways human beings matter to this planet, to society, to one another. It was not a lie to say so. Not a sappy cop-out or a sin. It was Darwin’s creed! It was, conversely, a lie to say only that we didn’t matter and keep it at that. That was too gloomy. Too rigid. Too shortsighted. Dirtiest word of all: unscientific. (pp. 162-63)

***

. . . . “Fish,” in a certain sense, is a derogatory term. A word we use to hide that complexity, to keep ourselves comfortable, to feel further away from them than we actually are. (p. 181)

***

Now when I l ie in bed next to my emerald-eyed wife, and the gun comes—and it still comes, will probably always still come—I consider its offerings. The relief it could bring. The solution to that day’s stresses and messes I have made. An end to shame.

And then I consider the fish. The fact that fish don’t exist. I picture a silvery fish dissolving in my hand. If fish don’t exist, what else don’t we know about our world? What other truths are waiting behind the lines we draw over nature? What other categories are about to cave in? Could clouds be animate? Who knows. On Neptune, it rains diamonds; it really does. Scientists figured that out just a few years ago. The longer we examine our world, the stranger it proves to be. Perhaps there will be a mother waiting inside a person deemed unfit. Perhaps there will be medicine inside a weed. Salvation inside the kind of person you had discounted.

When I give up the fish, I get, at long last, that thing I had been searching for: a mantra, a trick, a prescription for hope. I get the promise that there are good things in store. Not because I deserve them. Not because I worked for them. But because they are as much a part of Chaos as destruction and loss. Life, the flip side of death. Growth, of rot.

The best way of ensuring that you don't miss them, these gifts, the trick that has helped me squint at the bleakness and see them more clearly, is to admit, with every breath, that you have no idea what you are looking at. To examine each object in the avalanche of Chaos with curiosity, with doubt. Is this storm a bummer? Maybe it's a chance to get the streets to yourself, to be licked by raindrops, to reset. Is this party as boring as I assume it will be? Maybe there will be a friend waiting, with a cigarette in her mouth, by the back door of the dance floor, who will laugh with you for years to come, who will transmute your shame to belonging.

I am not saying I'm always so good at looking at the world in this way. I cling to my certainty—teddy bear that it is—and my grudges stay intact; my fear stays charged, the earth flat. But then I read a news article about, say, a new organ discovered in the human body called the "interstitium." There all along but somehow missed by millennia of humans. And the world cracks open a bit. I am reminded to do as Darwin did: to wonder about the reality waiting behind our assumptions. Perhaps that unsightly bacteria is producing the oxygen you need to breathe. Perhaps that heartbreak will prove to be a gift, the hard edge off which you reluctantly bounce to find a better match. Perhaps even your dreams need examining. Perhaps even your hope . . . needs some doubt. (pp. 190-92)

#lulu miller #book quotes

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pokemaniacal · 7 years

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Rowlet, Dartrix and Decidueye

Bloody hell, if I don’t hurry this up they’re going to announce another damn generation before I’m done with this one; we’re already expecting whatever this bull$#!t is supposed to be and I’ve got eighty whole Pokémon to evaluate in the next couple of months, as well as talking about Team Skull and the Aether Foundation, and Hau, and maybe Lillie too, and whoever I decide counts as the Champion, not to mention answering the neverending tide of ridiculous banal questions that keep pouring out of my goddamn inbox (obviously, gentle reader, I’m not talking about any questions you might have submitted, which are of course consistently insightful and thought provoking; it’s all those other bastards that are the problem).

I’M FINE

Let’s talk about Rowlet.

If you pay any attention whatsoever to this blog for any length of time, one of the first things you discover is that I like Grass-types. The Grass-type has been my go-to starter for my first playthrough (and most subsequent playthroughs) of every generation since the first. Rowlet’s fate was bound to mine by destiny long before I ever laid eyes on him. And I’m basically okay with this. Rowlet isn’t really in contention to unseat Bulbasaur and Turtwig as my favourite starter Pokémon, but he’s fine. He’s easy and fun to use in a playthrough, we’ve never had a birdlike Grass-type before, it doesn’t hurt that he’s just objectively adorable, and in abandoning his Flying-type Decidueye becomes the very first Ghost-type starter Pokémon ever, which is neat. Rowlet and Dartrix are clearly barn owls, with the barn owl’s distinctive pale heart-shaped face, whereas Decidueye is maybe more of a hawk owl, although I wouldn’t read too much into that. Comparisons to Hoothoot and Noctowl, who seem to be horned owls, are in order, as one of my usual criteria for evaluating new Pokémon is “is this actually new?” and I think the answer there is… probably??? Part of the problem there is that Hoothoot actually has a much more clearly-defined and interesting “personality” than Noctowl, with his heavily stylised cuckoo-clock aesthetic and metronome-like rocking from side to side (actually though, as long as we’re here, why doesn’t Hoothoot get Metronome? I mean, I get that Metronome was still super-exclusive when Hoothoot was introduced, but they gave it to Snubbull and Chansey as an egg move). Noctowl is kinda just a big owl that does owl things. Rowlet, Dartrix and Decidueye are a bit deeper than that, which I generally tend to think is good. Decidueye’s arrows and archery are an odd touch, but as with Talonflame, you can link birds and arrows conceptually via feathered fletching, so that makes sense. What might not immediately makes sense to some of us is the switch from Flying to Ghost when Dartrix evolves, and this gives me an excuse to begin one of my patented Bull$#!t Lore Digressions™, so let’s learn some more about owls.

Owls are associated with the spirit world in several different and unrelated cultures, and there are some pretty good reasons for this. Owls are night hunters, but more than that, they’re silent hunters – owls’ feathers are softer and smoother-edged than those of other birds, so the flapping of their wings is much more difficult to hear, giving them a ghostly, ethereal quality. Also, like many nocturnal animals, their eyes reflect light and seem to glow in the dark in a disconcertingly eerie manner. Not for nothing are owls omens of death in sub-Saharan Africa, of sickness and bad luck in the native cultures of the American southwest, or of catastrophe in ancient Rome. In ancient Greece, of course – mainly in Athens – owls had a more ambivalent role as the sacred birds of Athena and symbols of wisdom (an association that persists today and gives us Noctowl’s famous intellect and minor psychic abilities). Even there, though, the sinister scops owl was seen as a creature of the underworld, and the owl’s reputation for knowledge subsequently made it the familiar of witches and warlocks in mediaeval Europe. In New Zealand, where I come from, the small brown hawk owl known as the morepork or ruru is believed to be an oracle of the future in Maori culture, its different cries portending either good fortune or disaster. Finally, and perhaps most relevant for us today, on several of the islands of Hawai’i a species of short-eared owl called a pueo is one of the more common shapes known to be taken by ’aumākua, the spirits of a family’s honoured ancestors, who return to serve as guardians and as a link to the spirit world (sharks, lizards and turtles are also common; families must show respect and deference to all animals of a similar form to their ’aumākua). An owl Pokémon thus becomes an intermediary between this world and the next, a sort of warrior-shaman that protects its trainer from spiritual threats using powers of its own that are more than a little dark and sinister (we see a similar theme with Hoothoot in the anime, where he has the unique power to force hidden Ghost-types to reveal themselves with Foresight).

This “mystic guardian” aesthetic is conspicuously undercut by what Rowlet and Dartrix seem to be doing, because they have more of a “dapper gentleman” style in play – consider the Pokédex line that describes Dartrix as “a bit of a dandy” obsessed with keeping his wings groomed, or their leafy bow-ties (in Decidueye, that evolves into something more like a brooch or the clasp of a cloak, which has a more mediaeval-fantasy feel to it). It feels like a very odd fit for the direction that Decidueye moves in. If you had just given me Rowlet and Dartrix, and told me to come up with ideas for a final evolution, I might, after substantial umm-and-ahh-ing, have pitched a kind of James-Bond-esque super-spy-in-a-tuxedo concept. That seems like a more natural continuation, but easily could have turned out looking rather stupid without some very clever way of unifying the design elements (and if there’s anything this blog should teach us, it’s that I’m not quite that clever). The self-important “dandy” aesthetic, after a bit of thought, is oddly reminiscent to me of the vain, professorial Owl from Winnie-the-Pooh, genuinely wise (…relatively speaking) but perhaps just as much concerned with the appearance of wisdom as with wisdom itself, and eager to look the part of the sober, intellectual scholar of the arcane. Decidueye’s own description from the Pokédex tells us that this wise Pokémon is nonetheless easily startled and flustered (try slapping him awake in PokéRefresh and you’ll see what they’re getting at). It’s still incongruous with Decidueye as mystic archer and night hunter, but it is at least giving me a common aesthetic thread to follow through all three evolutionary stages, something that’s quite important for a starter Pokémon to maintain. Which is enough for the purposes of this review, I think.

Stats-wise, Decidueye seems to be built as a mixed attacker, with strong offensive skills, but isn’t very fast. That doesn’t bode particularly well, since he can’t really afford to not max his speed in training, leaving less to split between attack and special attack. There’s a passable physical movepool here, which includes Leaf Blade, Brave Bird, Sucker Punch, U-Turn, and… I guess Steel Wing if, like, you really hate Alolan Ninetales or something? There’s also Decidueye’s signature move, Spirit Shackle, which has several advantages. It’s a reliable Ghost-type physical attack, which a) is a rare sort of attack for anyone to have access to, and b) is something Decidueye clearly needs, c) it traps its target in play with Decidueye (unless the target is a Normal-type or Ghost-type, or has some escape mechanism), limiting your opponent’s options, and d) it fires a spiritual arrow that nails the target’s soul to the ground, which is super badass. This move is easily Decidueye’s biggest edge; you want to use him to set up critical moments where you can switch and your opponent can’t, then pressure their weak points with one of Decidueye’s teammates, or try to Swords Dance while they’re off balance. Leaf Blade and Spirit Shackle are actually a pretty solid combination; neither Grass nor Ghost gets a lot of super-effective hits, but Ghost has strong neutral coverage, so basically you’re resisted by all the Normal/Flying birds and a bunch of Dark dual-types. Sucker Punch is mostly redundant with Spirit Shackle in terms of type coverage, but it’s also Decidueye’s only priority move, and he’s fairly slow and doesn’t have any speed buffs, so at least considering it is sort of obligatory (just remember that it only works on targets preparing a direct attack, so be careful using it against support Pokémon). U-Turn is just generally a good move, because the free switch-out gives you a lot of flexibility in responding to your opponent’s actions (and especially switches), and it covers your ass against Dark-types, whom Decidueye tends to have trouble with. Trapping something with Spirit Shackle and then bouncing out with U-Turn is a decent little combo, if you like that sort of thing. Brave Bird adds a bit more of a sting than Decidueye’s other options, but lacks their utility. Some combination of four of these, or three plus Swords Dance, should probably be the default go-to. Decidueye’s kit lends itself to switching in and out a lot, and he doesn’t really have the speed to try and sweep a significant chunk of an enemy team, so I’d be more inclined to slap a Choice item on him than bank on Swords Dance, but to each their own.

Decidueye’s special attack stat is pretty solid, so in theory you can use that to mix things up a bit. Unfortunately, basically his only worthwhile special attacks are Shadow Ball and Energy Ball/Grass Knot, and if you cut Spirit Shackle for Shadow Ball then you’ve sort of forsaken one of the most compelling reasons to use Decidueye in the first place. That’s not quite the end of the story; you might be gunning specifically for some big chunky physical tank with a Grass weakness like Hippowdon, who gets stung much harder by Grass Knot than by Leaf Blade even with minimal special attack training on Decidueye’s part. Also, most human opponents are going to assume Decidueye is a physical attacker, so if you can grab him a free turn to set up with Nasty Plot (which he also learns), you might just be able to catch someone with their pants down. I’m not sure this is particularly a good plan, and again I’m not encouraged by the fact that he essentially has no third special attack, but the possibility theoretically exists. Decidueye does have a support movepool of sorts, but you can probably find better Pokémon for any conceivable support role he might try to fill. Like, Baton Pass is there as an egg move (via Togetic or Oricorio), and again, Decidueye does get both Swords Dance and Nasty Plot, so he has perfectly sound options for using it, but he just looks so unlike my idea of what a Baton Passer ought to be (poor speed, average defences) that my mind sort of recoils from the notion. Alternatively you could try to ply Roost and Light Screen with some HP training into some kind of weird tanky Decidueye – give up trying to outrun things, since he’s slow anyway, and focus on your defences. Just don’t tell anyone it was my idea.

As well as a signature move, Decidueye has a unique ability; it’s his hidden ability and isn’t currently obtainable, but I think we’ll probably get it eventually, so we ought to talk about it before we finish up. This ability is Long Reach, which lets Decidueye treat his “contact” attacks as ranged instead, bypassing enemy effects like Static, Rough Skin, Beak Blast’s retributive burn, and so on. This… ehhh, I’m not really sure what this is for. I mean, I understand conceptually why Decidueye has this: he’s an archer, so he should be able to make what would normally be close-range attacks from a distance. But that aspect of the design is already expressed by his signature move, and by the fact that he can use ranged special attacks effectively. Most contact effects aren’t that big a deal, most Pokémon that get them have better abilities to choose from, and even when they’re likely to turn up, Decidueye would often prefer Spirit Shackle to Leaf Blade anyway. I think Long Reach would probably give Decidueye an extra edge against… Wigglytuff, Electrode, Parasect, Bewear, Stunfisk, and (lord help us) Delcatty. Being able to one-shot Bewear with Brave Bird after a Swords Dance is not nothing, but I suspect the more general Grass-type damage bonus from Overgrow would probably still be more useful, even once Long Reach becomes available.

So, all in all, this is a decent start to generation VII. Rowlet, Dartrix and Decidueye are nothing amazing; they have a couple of conflicting ideas in their design, and other than Spirit Shackle there’s not a whole lot to be impressed by in their skillset. They’re still interesting, though; as fighters they are at the very least passable, with an interesting niche courtesy of that neat little signature move, and I cannot stress enough that pinning a foe in place by the shadow is a very cool gimmick. I got my cool new Grass-type starter, all is right with the world, and I can now review the rest of the seventh generation joyfully and optimistically, without a hint of malice or discontent in my heart.

…well, I mean, I can try, anyway.

#pokemon #alola #alola pokedex #rowlet #dartrix #decidueye #grasstypes #ghosttypes #flyingtypes #starters

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videogamelover99 · 7 years

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Human Ch.1 - Bill Cipher

A/N: Welp, looks like your wonderful motivation made me get this chapter out way sooner than I’d anticipated. Seriously guys, all your reviews/responses were really sweet.

First chapter of the multific! From now I’ll be tagging all the chapters “Human” (since that’s the unoriginal title I’ve decided for the AO3). And this first chapter’s a doozy, believe me.

Ever since he took that deal, he’d been regretting it.

Looking back now, he would take a million years in that stone tomb over what that giant salamander had subjected him to. He hadn’t expected on getting his power back, not really, but the least that jerk could do was give him a proper form. Hell, or at least keep him a triangle. But he’d never expected this.

He hated it. He hated everything about this stupid body, about this weak pitiful meat sack that frilly asshole decided to shove him in. He had nothing, no power, no immortality, no means of escape. And if that wasn't enough, he was slowly dying. He could even feel it. The slow, painful way each cell was loosing its energy. In just a few decades he would degrade, grow cold and end up feeding worms before he knew it, if this stupid body didn't give up on him even sooner. After watching humans for so long, he'd seen just how easily they could break down, hell he'd even been the cause of a lot of them. He'd found it funny, how easily they can die off.

He didn't now.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp… under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of… …9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick ourjob today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as… Honey! - That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Oatches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Oan anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! “What's the difference?” How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Oheck it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Oouple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody “dawg”! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Oome on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal… - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Oongratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening. See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should… Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine… What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Oool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Oould be daisies. Don't we need those? Oopy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Ohemical-y. Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Oandy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Ooming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny! What are you doing?! Wow… the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Oan't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Oheck out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This… Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that… …kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Oome on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? “You like jazz?” No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you… I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. “Mama, Dada, honey.” You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway… Oan I… …get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean… I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, “Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?” Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look… There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you…? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then… I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again… for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but… Anyway… This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your “experience.” Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well… - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's… human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up… Sit down! …really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic ‘N’ Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Orazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Oarl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads! Pinhead. - Oheck out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. “They make the honey, and we make the money”? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Ohung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Ohung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Olassy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, “I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this”? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Oolumbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week… He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots… Next week… Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard ‘em. Bear Week next week! They’re scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here. - Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting… - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, “Honey, I'm home,” without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Oase number 4475, Superior Oourt of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson… you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry? They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Oloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Oall your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say… Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but… the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right… there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the rightjob. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night… My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers… Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute… Are you her little… …bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but… - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry… - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I… I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all… All adrenaline and then… and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about… Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, “Smoking or non?” Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Oongratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames… But it's just a prance-about stage name! …unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Oan't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Oannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now… Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's notjust flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course… The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. - Thatjust kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry… sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Oould you ask him to slow down? Oould you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, Oalifornia. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic… …without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species… What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory… That's Barry! …is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small… Haven't we heard this a million times? “The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense.” - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys.

April fools.

I am so sorry.

#bill cipher #gravity falls #a different form a different time #human bill au #fanfiction #mabel pines #dipper pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #human #chapter 1 #i'm not sorry #i love you guys #your feedback was amazing though i wont lie about that #the chapter will come out in a few days i promise #consider this a preview #pengychan #doodledrawsthings

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mmoxie · 7 years

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50 Character Questions For Karalonde

@memes4less asked me to do the whole darn ask meme for a character of mine that i like a lot, and it took some time, but

it happened, and i’m just, so incredibly sorry to mobile users if this somehow eats your dash

here’s a readmore tho

What is your OC’s favorite color? Yellow.

Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect? Curios and antiques from Elven history.

What kind of things is your OC allergic to? No allergies.

What kind of clothing does your OC wear? Very huge yellow cloak full of pockets is a must. Steel-toed boots, sweaters, comfortable all-weather pants. It takes a lot to get her into something elegant.

What is your OC’s first memory? Her mothers and mentors, the spooky old Ravens Grey, holding her hands and singing songs to her.

What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite? Karalonde gets along very well with corvids. They tend to recognize her as another corvid, like a very big crow or raven. On the flip-side, dogs don't trust her, and she doesn't trust them.

What element would your OC be? Sodium.

What is your OC’s theme song?

The Heavy - No Place For A Hero

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhwDxNqWtxk

Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC? Nah.

What deadly sin would best represent your OC? This one's a toss-up. I'm going to go with Pride though, because she's sure of herself to a tragic fault. Believing without question that she's making the right decision, because she's Karalonde, so of course she's right, has been her downfall more than once.

What are your OC’s hobbies? She used to play guitar. Hasn't picked it up again since she lost her eyes, but she could.

How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they? She's patient until she's not. Dynamite with a really, really long fuse is still dynamite. When she's angry, she's Category Five Angry.

What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.? She's a night elf, a trans woman, and a lesbian.

What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods? She's a total disaster about modern food. Absolutely spoiled by the world of greasy and salty and deep-fried. But she's got a soft spot for kimchi, which she grew up on, and likes her meat rare.

If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why? A corvid of some kind. She's always had an affinity for them due to her upbringing. Whenever she encounters one in the wild, she has a way of approaching them that makes her seem to be a Very Large Raven, rather than a different creature altogether.

What does your OC smell like? Boot polish.

How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job? Karalonde found and sold a great deal of her belongings from half an eternity ago in order to build a large savings. Large enough that she can coast on it for basically as long as she wants, as long as she lives simply- which she prefers. Most days, she takes a boat to the Broken Shore and participates in holding the line there, helping to keep the demons from advancing any closer to the mainland. Her dream job requires that the war be over. She wants to go back to being a public servant. Maybe the mayor of a small town, or some other low-caliber politician. She considers her current "job" a necessary service, but it places her uncomfortably close to the Illidari.

What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths? Karalonde fears failure to the point of outright "you didn't win" levels of denial. She also fears abandonment. She's absolutely awful at expressing herself, and this distances herself from would-be friends and romantic partners, and this is exacerbated by her vast ego, which insists that she can't be in the wrong for acting that way. She is, however, phenomenally physically strong, literally fireproof, and she can, on occasion, channel her inability to otherwise express herself into a passionate drive to protect the few people she can keep close to her- even if that means doing something as dangerous and oafish as picking a fight on their behalf.

What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song? Karalonde likes things that sound like Spanish guitar. She also has a certain fondness for the powerful drums the Trolls use.

If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do? She's been traveling offworld for half an eternity, thanks to her career with the Illidari. If anything, she'd just be shocked to find out that the Earth isn't a smoldering husk. The next step after that would be to casually assimilate, never explaining her appearance or origins, pawning off her extremely valuable gold coins from Azeroth in exchange for fat stacks of cash. She'd miss out on a lot of our visual media due to her general eyelessness, but once she got the hang of things, she'd almost certainly end up a celebrity. Maybe even star in an action movie.

What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves? Lack of decorum makes Karalonde very upset. She's got a strict sense of what's proper behavior, and she's not above delivering a hard slap to remind her close acquaintances to behave when she's around. She also has a stomach ulcer, and arthritis in her knees and hands. Her only pet peeves are all to do with communication- she hates when strangers interject with "their two coppers," and she'll often deny them outright if they ask to contribute. Likewise, she hates un-asked-for explanations, and will mock anyone providing one with "ah, look at the young scholar," or something to that effect.

What kind of student were they/would they be in high school? Horrible. Just the worst. Not even a disruption in class, just the kid who seems to always have better things to do than be there. Abysmal attendance record. Shows up whenever she wants. Gets into fights in the cafeteria pretty often over basically nothing. Steals little things all the time. --Librarian's pet, though. If she's not in class, she can be found there, helping stock returns and organize the shelves, holding surprisingly mature and serious conversations with the librarian about her future.

What is a random fact about your OC? At least once in her life, Kara has- just like a dog- chased after and eaten a bee. With the consequences you'd expect.

What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living? Kara is a firm believer in "all the fake things, all the bullshit, all the wishy-washy myths and mysteries." Every cryptid is real, every mystery has its fantastical conclusion, every conspiracy is worth investigation. She insists that it's the fake things- "the things we invent, because we like the sound of them" that contribute a newfound value to the dirt and grass and trees. Every ritual, she believes, is a total fabrication- an invention that, by virtue of our commitment to it, achieves its function. The only "fake thing" she questions is the Holy Light, because she finds it uncomfortably godless. "Where in the hell is their deity," she's asked more than once, "how in blazes did they reckon on just -light?-" The truth of that is, she just finds it unimaginative- lacking the spark of imagination that comes with grander rituals and other "fake things." But a world rich with fake things is a world she wants to protect. She's invented a great many, herself, ascribing value to trinkets and places and even articles of clothing. She'd save the world just for the sake of the value she finds in an idea. Even a really silly idea. Especially a really silly idea.

What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them? In a lot of ways, Kara is wish fulfillment. She's beautiful, she's strong, she's capable. But in other ways, she's constantly failing, She's a lapsed Illidari who broke the bond with her demon because the two of them fell in love, for goodness' sake. Talk about taboo on top of taboo. She's wrong about most everything, but she believes so hard and so sincerely- and again, that's wish fulfillment. I wish I could believe like Karalonde believes. She's only a fan character in the sense that she's not built out of My Original Lore, but really, there's only so much structure that Blizzard offers to characters, so they end up 1% Blizz, 99% Your Effort. She's always been kind of the same, ever since I made her, but she's changed in subtle ways- being more indulgent, telling more jokes, opening up little by little, learning to care about others again. Her journey's gradual, and she's got a long way to go.

Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why? It's hard to say. Kara makes herself into a mother figure accidentally, all the time. She ends up attached to someone and worries about them, and next thing she knows, she's rushing to protect them. But there are a few- a very select, very distinct few- who she sees the "makings of greatness" in. And yes, John Silver from Treasure Planet went into the pot, when I was making up Karalonde for the first time. She fixates on these people- often slow-witted but sincere, brave but prone to accidents, full of self-doubt but in possession of great ambition- and she dotes on them. She provides what she can for them, even if it's just providing encouragement. She wants them to succeed, because she's already lost the war, as far as she can tell- but they don't have to. They could win it. To contrast, boastful warriors who go on and on about their conquests and victories, she considers fodder to be fed to the Legion. Let them go and die, if that's what they want, because they don't have or make any fake things to enrich this world.

What kind of childhood did your character have? A very strange one. The Ravens Grey served as three different mother figures- One was tall and thin and very judgmental. One was hairy and squat and very slow to speak. The third was near-about the elven ideal, beautiful and youthful- but she had strange habits, drinking smoky concoctions and babbling prophecy. They each raised Karalonde in their own way, but also together, as a family. They taught her to be shrewd and clever, and never meaner than she had to be. To be tacit when it served her, and to make speeches when- and only when- they were called for. They molded her into an elf that could serve the woods, one of the finest politicians their village would ever see. None of them- not even the babbling prophet- expected that the woods would burn and Kara would find herself trapped in service to the Illidari. They were kind to her, but not coddling. They chose lessons over discipline. If she was going to scrape her knee, she was going to learn how to mend it. If she was going to throw a rock at the boy across the street, she was expected to explain why he deserved it, to their satisfaction. Otherwise, she'd get a lecture on when it's appropriate to throw rocks, and what rocks are the best kind to throw, and where you ought to throw a rock depending on how upset a person makes you. She grew up to be a woman who is very good at throwing rocks.

What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions? Her ears twitch when she's angry or overstimulated. When she's frustrated, she'll grab an old trinket out of her coat and polish it until it squeaks. She's not an alcoholic, but she's fonder of a cosmopolitan than the average elf.

If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose? [KARALONDE - BORN IN TIME IMMEMORIAL - DIED IN BED, BENEATH A DOZEN GOBLINS] She always was too friendly with the waitresses in the Bay.

Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why? She considers marriage an "Eastern tradition," like worship of the Light, necromancy, and failing to maintain a functioning kingdom. That said, if she was proposed to, she might open up to the idea. Just for the sake of trying something new. As for kids, she's never had one. She was meant to have one- a child intended to be the next leader of her village- but it never came to fruition, due to the woods burning. As things stand, she may end up a godmother for one of her friends. She might like a child of her own, but she's not ready to settle down. Not even after all this time.

What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory? She wasn't taken offworld by choice. She wanted to stay in the woods, hold the line, defend her village. She was dragged by the armpits through a portal, to go "fight them where they live." She's been bitter with Illidan and his ilk ever since, and it hurts her every day, to think back on what she was forced to leave behind. To contrast, her very favorite memory involves going to a quiet glade in Duskwood where the green dragons used to stay, and finally being able to touch the waters of a moonwell without them burning her skin. She was in the company of a young druid, who sang and kept her safe while she fretted and protested and doubted aloud until she finally found the courage to try. There was no greater relief than knowing that the mother moon recognized her again, even a little bit.

If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be? One thing? How big or small scale is this? Like... one article of clothing, or one concept? For the sake of a good answer, I'll choose concept and go with "a home." She hasn't had a place to call home since the woods burned, and she wants one very badly. So badly that she's willing to occupy old elven ruins that've been abandoned and start dressing them up again.

Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why? She "doesn't kill things of the good dirt that walk on two legs." This has to be broken down, a bit- "things of the good dirt" means creatures of all kinds who are made out of flesh and blood as a result of living somewhere. By this metric, demons are not things of the good dirt, largely. Many of them are composed of dark magic from the nether in their entirety- or they've been killed and remade so many times that nothing remains of what they once were, when they came up from their "good dirt." Then there's the matter of two legs- if it moves on four, it tends to qualify as prey. She considers herself an old creature of the woods, and as such a creature, she eats what she damn well pleases. These aren't hard rules, however. She'd eat a human or an orc or any such creature if she had to, and feel no moral or ethical dilemma whatsoever- she considers them to be "made of the same meat I am." If it's not a matter of eating or driving back the Legion to protect her home, then she absolutely will not kill. Maim, bludgeon, assault, she'll beat the daylights out of someone who crosses her- but she won't kill them. She, like the Ravens before her, would rather teach a lesson.

What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually? Kara isn't the life of the party, but she's an active participant. She's belligerent and traditional in a lot of ways, but she likes to laugh and she likes to have a good time, and she's got the good sense not to make a bad situation out of a good one- unless she's really, terribly bothered by something, in which case she'll raise hell. She doesn't belong to any clubs or organizations anymore, but she's casually trying to form some- a township in some abandoned ruins, for example- and she hands out yellow cloaks to match hers, to any lapsed, failed, or rejected Illidari in need.

How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories? She has a spectacular imagination, but it's limited by her perspective. Her ideas are fanciful and sometimes brilliant, but they have the same kind of old-fashioned charm that "old sci-fi" has compared to the sci-fi we're used to now. She doesn't worry, but she is prone to fantasizing- and she does do a great deal of living in memories, because she has an eternity of nostalgia to sift through.

What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain? She wants the war to end. She's tired of having to fight in it, she was never meant to. She doesn't have many compulsive needs, but she does like to fight more than the average elf. By a long shot. She's done sacrificing, though. She'll kick ass and take names all up and down the Legion front, but she's already given up her eyes, her home, her lover, her allegiances, her dignity, her glaives, her traditions, her family, her friends, her neighbors, and every last tree in the woods we now call Felwood. She's Fucking Tired Of Sacrifices And She's Going To Keep And Protect Everything Else That Exists Now, God Damn It.

What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do? Bumps into walls. If it's not enchanted, she can't fucking see it. But she's too proud to use a cane or a dog, so she just struggles against the physical world because she needs to insist to herself that she's fine.

What would your character do with a million dollars? She already has a million dollars. She's chosen to live well within her means, do a job that satisfies her, and make meaningful personal connections.

What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can? Fridge: Several stolen platters from New Years celebrations. Meat and cheese and vegetable dip trays from several different parties she wandered through. Also, a gallon of milk, a gallon of sweet tea, and a gallon of lemonade.

Bedroom floor: Gigantic heaps of treasure, stolen from everywhere. Rugs, quilts, piles of loose gold and silver trinkets, pottery and riches. It looks like the Cave of Wonders from Aladdin in there.

Nightstand: Flask of spring water from halfway up Hyjal. Gnomish audio recorder featuring a tape with instructions on how to read braille. Three other gnomish audio tapes are nearby, with instructions on how to use the Common alphabet, a recording of some very good guitar played by a pirate in the Bay, and a highly explicit tape, also bought in the Bay, which features very animated readings of a couple "steamy romance novels."

Garbage can: Empty soup cans, spent matches, various wrappers and shreds of wax paper.

Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with? You can count on somewhere expensive. Kara likes paying extra for something quiet and special and well-crafted, so fine dining suits her. Even if she eats with her hands. She was given a dress over Winter Veil, made of embersilk. It fits, and she likes to wear it out. Odds are, she'll go out with a friend- but if she had a choice, she'd get a celebrity on her arm. She'd love to stir up a controversy by being caught out at dinner with a world leader, like Tyrande or Sylvanas. Especially Sylvanas- she feels like they'd have a lot to talk about, in their long years.

What does your character do when they’re angry? Why? Pick fights. She's an extremely physical woman.

Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? S h i t l o a d s. Where do you think? She's been fighting the Legion for goodness knows how long. Longer than most.

What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said? "It's only a human. Wheel it off to a priest before it stinks, or eat it."

How does your character react/ accept criticism? ...It takes her a while. A long while. Usually something painful and humbling has to knock some sense into her before she'll accept a new idea.

If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza? She fucking loves pineapple on pizza.

Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works? Poke at it, then put it away. She believes very strongly in the sorcery of the Trolls, and she's not going to test her luck.

Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle? She can't draw. She also can't read, or see.

What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult? I feel like I already answered this one. The Ravens Grey were strange, confusing, but ultimately compassionate old witches whose methods carried both the danger and directness of the old trolls, and the dignity and decorum of the new elves. Kara, as an adult- having gone through so much- still tries to make herself like them. They were good to her. She appreciates how they raised her.

Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush? Candy makes her sick. She'd never eat enough to get a rush, she'd vomit. Hates the taste. Even chocolate.

If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count? She'd embrace it with open arms. She's been waiting to die for a long time, and death simply hasn't come to her. She'd feel relief, in passing away. She'd get her affairs in order as best she could, distribute her wealth, talk to the people she wanted to talk to- Tyrande, Sylvanas, Boss Mida, Alexstrasza, Chromie, Shandris, and Varok Saurfang, in particular- and then call it quits. Take it easy, stay home and close to her loved ones, and just let herself finally die. An eternity is long enough to live. Let someone else handle the next one.

#memes4less #karalonde

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