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mdwatchestv · 6 years

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The Magicians 3x12 + 3x13: Hail to the King, Baby

Better late than never, here is the finale wrap up of season 3 of the Magicians. Maybe this is so late because I was decimated by the Magicians thoroughly recapping itself in a manner so comprehensive and aggressive that I was briefly unable to continue on. Josh's recap of the 40th timeline to Penny 23 was so snappy and entertaining, it sent me into a wild fit of existential despair - how does one recap a show that recaps itself? Josh even had sex charts, and comprehensive notes showing the kind of recap mastery you will not see on this blog. Thus is the charm and the fury of the Magicians, a show that refuses to be tamed, categorized, or even written about coherently. Long may it reign.

It was especially interesting, here at the end of season 3, to look back via Josh's recap to season 1. Q and Alice wearing the Brakebills sweater vest set was especially strange to remember, and illustrated how far this show has ventured tonally since its earlier days. While season 1 was not without its batshit crazy moments, its Taylor Swift sing-a-longs, its 39 timelines, the show still felt like it was trying to color inside the lines. This was a story about young witches and wizards on a quest to defeat a great evil after all. This good vs evil storyline crept into season 2, where we finally saw the Beast's demise, but by then he was almost an afterthought as the Magicians ached to move on to bigger, wilder subjects than just one evil wizard. So now that we are in season 3, what is the Magicians about? Sure there is a quest to restore magic, but the show has broken free of it's "defeat the bad guy, save the world" mold. Antagonism and heroism can be found within individual characters, within moral battles about who is worthy of magic, life, and freedom, and within questions about how to govern a body of people (and talking animals) selflessly.

Nowhere has this intricacy and complex development been better illustrated than in the unending power struggle in Fillory. After seizing control from the Children of Earth, Tick Pickwick wants to put a country impoverished by the lack of magic and radical mismanagement back on the economic track. A Fillory run by actual Fillorians rather than magicless Earth children who were really just puppets for the Fairy Queen (another ruler trying to do the best for her people no matter the cost). Honestly the worst that can be said for Tick is that he betrayed our two most fiercely beloved characters, which although a grave offense from an audience point of view, actually had pretty noble intent. The Fillory storyline ended in a standoff of three different rulers, all of whom were trying to do right by their citizenry. It's a complex situation with many shades of gray and no real "right answer" in the context of the Fillorian world (no matter where our audience sympathies may lie). What a brilliant and odd place for a show initially advertised merely as "Harry Potter with sex, drugs, and partying" to end up.

Coming into episode 3x12, our magic troop has recovered all seven keys but one (key #6), which we know to be held by the Fairy Queen and is currently being used to prop up the Fairy Realm. Margo and Eliot are willing to give the Fairies full Fillorian citizenship and protection in exchange for the key, but they are no longer the rulers of Fillory, and don't have the magic to reclaim the throne from Tick. No magic, no power, no key, no magic. So they do what any self-respecting ousted monarchs do: force an election they intend to win through trickery and witchcraft. What begins as a genuine play for the Fillorians love (and votes), quickly devolves into a pissing contest between Eliot and Tick. The two attempt to one-up on another, Tick with policy, Eliot with outlandish empty promises. Feels...so familiar.

This storyline hit such a nerve with me that when Margo was announced as the surprise winner and new High King of Fillory, I burst into sudden, surprised tears. These tears only intensified as Eliot put aside his flaring ego to kneel before her and pledge his allegiance. "WHY AM I CRYING," I screamed at my boyfriend and cat who only stared back at me with wide terrified eyes. Why indeed. Maybe it was because Margo's genuine interest and acceptance of her populace (she was elected as a write-in candidate by talking animals) was able to cut through a cock fight. Margo who has perhaps suffered the most for Fillory: she has been showered in the blood of her suitors, married off to Joffrey's, and even lost an eye. Margo who started this series as a hard-partying mean girl who has risen to the top without compromising her own sense of self. Margo who once called her rival a chalky twat, Margo who brought a gun to a magic fight, Margo who has a creepy fairy eye. Margo who is now King, because a King can be called whatever the fuck they want.

Margo's storyline is also but one of the storylines this season that featured powerful women rising into their power. The Fairy Queen, who began this year as a villain, had one of the most season’s powerful turns. After proving herself to be a staunch advocate for her people rather than a malicious baddie she sacrifices herself in order to guarantee eternal safety for her people. Although I couldn't help wondering why no one had brokered such a deal before, but whatever it's done now, and I now cannot wait until Jamie Ray Newman gets her ass handed to her (a sentence I never thought I’d type). Julia also spent the season reconciling the power she was given by Our Lady Underground, eventually accepting it and nurturing it until it gave her (literal) god-like strength. But my personal favorite journey this year was that of Fen - the knife makers daughter who was married off to a king. Fen has really been through it, she lost her unborn daughter, her fake daughter, and even some toes. No matter the complexities of the fairy's sitch, there is no doubt they have done our girl Fen dirty. And so seeing Fen sitting on the Fillorian throne as Acting High King, and standing by the Fairy Queen's side attempting to aide her until the bitter end, was especially meaningful.

So with High King Margo on the throne, the magicians finally have all 7 keys and the final chapter of the quest book. They need to take the keys to a magic castle where the Knight in the story went to rescue her father, and is now apparently the eternal jailer of some terrifying monster. After hunting down Calypso, the nymph who imprisoned Odysseus (obviously), she explains that the the castle Blackspire (the literal opposite of Whitespire) is the castle built by the gods in order to hide all their fuck ups and also holds the magic fountain. Calypso’s lover and popular fire-gifter Prometheus crafted both the keys and the key quest in order to identify magicians worthy enough to take on the jailer mantle. However creating the keys robbed Prometheus of his strength and he was killed by his enemies. Calypso is pissed about this, but if I know anything about Prometheus (and the show The Magicians) it's that he is kind of a hard guy to kill. A foreshadow perhaps?

Our questers head out to the prison with a variety of different motives. Quentin has agreed to take the place of the Knight as eternity prison guard in exchange for entrance to the castle. Alice, originally wanting to help the Library siphon the magic for themselves, now wants no one to have magic because to her magic leads to bad times (she's not wrong). Eliot and Margo are not about to have Q go off and be a guard forever and are going with the shoot first ask questions later approach (gotta love em). Julia is absent as she has ascended to full god status and is off drinking tea and wearing a lot of highlighter (relatable). Upon arriving at the castle they discover what the Knight has been guarding is not so much a traditional monster, but rather a strange young man who acts like a child. Unfazed, Eliot shoots him. This seems to have been effective, and no one questions the sudden mysterious disappearance of the Knight. But before our group can finally unlock the magic fountain and restore power, Alice, hopped up on fairy powder, destroys the keys! After all we have been through this season to collect these goddamn keys, this was a real dick move. While Alice is attempting to escape Margo's righteous shanking, she sees the Knight now seemingly possessed with the golden light that lived in the "monster" Eliot shot. Not good!

Back at the fountain the day is temporarily saved when God!Julia, motivated by her sidekick Quentin's courage, descends and uses her power to create seven NEW keys. If only she had done this from the beginning. But this act apparently robs her of her golden god magic, at least for the time being. The magic fountain spurts back to life, but the victory is short-lived as JAIME RAY NEWMAN and Dean Fogg appear with the Library's siphon. These characters have really been testing me. The Library seizes the means of production, I mean all the magic, thereby granting them total control of magical ability and knowledge. Presumably Dean Fogg aided in their scheme in order to guarantee a magic allowance for Brakebills, but this shows a surprising lack of faith in his own students who not only defeated The Beast, but have performed a number of miraculous feats. He of little faith.

Time cut to the future, while magic is still spotty the more shocking twist is that our gang has been stripped of their memories and sent off to live among us mere muggles in the real world. Ironically Alice, the one who planned on starting a new life, is the only one who remembers what happened in the castle and is being held captive in the Library. She understands that the monster in the castle was NOT the young man, but rather whatever was inside of him. An unending want or need that appears as pretty gold lights and is now unstoppable.

Normally twists like this where characters lose memory, or their bodies are EXTREMELY stressful for me (the Faith/Buffy swap still causes tension). The idea that things are not as they should be (Dreamland I and II also traumatizing) and the regular flow of events has been thrown out of order is distressing to my order-craving brain. However with The Magicians every weird device is usually enjoyable, and often the weirder the better. Watching a clearly possessed Eliot psychotically stalking an amnesia-stricken Quentin down the streets of Vancouver gave me a surprising sense of excited glee rather than nervous dread. Whatever happens on The Magicians, no matter how incoherent or strange, at least you know it won’t be boring. What’s more this is a show that will seemingly never settle into complacency, it is a creeping vine

LINGERING QUESTIONS:

Penny 23 seems to have fully taken over Penny 40's storyline, with even the Unity Key acknowledging the swap. Whatever is going on with Penny 40 in the Library has been kept under wraps, but surely he will have a part to play in helping to free Alice.

Kacey Rohl is also running around wild and free in this timeline with her memories in tact! Possibly a valuable ally for those hoping to save the main crew.

Speaking of returning from the dead, Harriet and Victoria supposedly died when their portal between worlds collapsed, but we didn't see any bodies so I can't help feel like this isn't exactly permanent.

Now that Margo has had her memory wiped I guess Fen is just continuing to rule Fillory. Is anyone going to tell the Fillorians what's going down? Are they going to receive magic from the Library? Likely no, but they do have a new population of fairies who have their own ungovernable magic- handy!

Also Poppy (aka Felicia Day) is wandering around in our world after skipping out on Quentin and co. Technically she is still a Brakebills student I think!

Now that we know there is a whole world of gods, will we be getting more visits from them? Did Julia totally blow her chances at divinity by making the replacement set of keys?

Thank you for reading along this season! Stay tuned to this blog for new coverage, likely of Westworld. Theories galore.

Love ya, MD

One more Margo gif for the road:

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alisuhs · 6 years

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ALISA SAVAGE is an ORDER MEMBER in the war, even though HER official job is as HEAD OF THE AUROR OFFICE. the THIRTY-ONE year old PUREBLOOD is known to be ENTERPRISING and VIVACIOUS but also DOGMATIC and NEUROTIC. some might label them as THE LADY OF WAR. fc: inbar lavi

so this is alisa savage, aka That One Obscure Auror Tonks Offhandedly Mentions in One of the HP Books (trademark pending)

pinterest boi

character inspiration: leia organa, hayes morrison, lexi branson, natasha romanoff, peggy carter, sara lance, jessica pearson, bobbi morse.

aesthetic.

high heels clicking on hardwood, the smell of fresh - brewed coffee, spilled wine, redacted information, smudged ink on parchment, the pop f i z z clink of champagne, quills scratching across paper, the satisfaction of reaching justice, lipstick stains on glasses, snakeskin and lace, the feeling you get when you step too close to a fire. messy blonde hair framing features that were once beautiful, but are now just tired. sharp whiskey and silent grief. honey eyes and tattooed wings beating against your shoulder, begging to be uncaged.

family ties.

ezra savage --- american ambassador, soon to be retiring. generally a playful, fun man, very personable and agreeable. it’s what made him such a good diplomat and father. he was a thunderbird when attending ilvermorny, where he met his wife.

hara savage --- former wampus!!! tiny and fighty and very very loving. a huuuuge spitfire. currently back in the states to help her sick mother.

damaris savage --- baby sis!!! was honestly the sweetest, most fun young girl. big dreams and even bigger imagination. she was a 22, a junior healer --- one of the ones who were killed during the siege, actually. surprise!!!!!!

childhood.

ALRIGHT SO the savages are actually an american pureblooded family!! though blood status typically didn’t matter as much in the states as did the way ezra made his way up to earning the title of AMBASSADOR. diplomat. emissary. whatever ya wanna call it!!

though the savages were also a later branch of the highly regarded ROCHE family, of the original twelve aurors, due to one of the women in the family marrying a savage.

alisa was born in 1949 america, which with all things considered, really wasn’t that long after the ordeal with grindelwald. but it was also 1949 in the united states, so the red scare was going strong when she was born, which was an entirely different sort of witch hunt than the one her wizarding community grew to know

with the red scare as a guise, there were some lingering anti-wizard people who used it as an excuse to go after wizards. again. but this time by saying they were communist spies!!!

she grew up in a wizarding world that wasn’t AS sheltered and concealed since the disbandment of the new salem philanthropic society just over two decades before.

the savages are spread all across the united states wizarding world, but this particular branch of them was fairly small and tight knit and centered right outside of new york city. much of alisa’s first eight years was spent bouncing back and forth between their home in new rochelle and the city.

after working as a translator for years, and growing from there, ezra finally reached a point where macusa and the president announced him to be their consul for the united kingdom’s wizarding world. this was v exciting for the family!!

so when she was nine, not long before she would have started her education at ilvermorny, the savages relocated to LONDON. fun!!! (sort of)

living on the wizarding world’s equivalent of embassy row and getting to witness this level of the government working was fascinating. her life from then on took the form of galas and exploring london with her mom (and eventually newborn sister, who was ten years younger than her) and mother and sitting in on some debates and discussions regarding foreign policies between the different countries.

a lot of political shit, but it also really shaped alisa?? it made her very interested in the mechanics of the government, and exposed her to how things WORKED. both in the ministry and macusa. it also displayed both groups’ PROBLEMS to her.

when she was 11 she was shipped off to hogwarts!!!

her parents didn’t want her on a different continent while they were still working in england, so after some discussion with headmaster dumbledore, she was brought on board

sorted into slytherin!!! her personality was essentially highlighted in slytherin, where her fire and drive and goals were celebrated, though her american background did receive its own criticisms. for the most part, hogwarts were some of the best years of her life --- she was a member of too many clubs to keep track, a keeper for the slytherin team, a top student, and incredibly social w/in her peers. sure she could be a bit.......biting sometimes, but overall she was v sociable.

then to now.

so after graduating from hogwarts, she went straight into the auror academy!!! though she was good at playing the social realms of politics, it was never quite as much her speed as what the aurors did. even back in the states she had practically idolized the men and women with these jobs, so it was no question what she wanted to do.

a very ambitious and determined woman, she fought and worked her way higher and higher up through the department as years passed. there was always that unspoken struggle of being a woman in a male-dominated field. but she was damn good at her job!!!! sometimes a bit of an annoyance to her peers when she would fight back on some decisions made on cases, but it’s bc she has a fucking backbone boiiii

so as she went from junior auror to senior and everywhere in between, she gathered respect. enough of a reputation as well, to be promoted to head of the auror office in january of 1980 at age 31. she is the third woman to hold the position and ALMOST the youngest, but not quite

she’s a workaholic so since her promotion you can catch her at the ministry even MORE these days

she loves her job though, and is v v committed to getting things done through the right means. off the clock she’ll do anything to get the job done, but when at work she’s v big on ensuring everyone follows rules and protocol when it comes to cases. she doesn’t need shit being thrown out the window bc someone didn’t go through the right channels or was a dumbass and did something out of line. they’re going to do it the right way dammit!!!!

oh okay right and the ORDER i need to talk about that

so basically she joined near the start of the war?? she was around 22/23 and a v fiery, excitable new auror who had a tendency to push her luck and speak impulsively when she shouldn’t have. but it was enough to get the attention of dumbledore and his small order at the time, so she was RECRUITED

sort of a spy but also not really

more does a lot of the strategy work, social warfare, my local ootp mom

helps organize missions n shit

personality.

LOOK I K N O W I SAID SHE WAS GONNA BE A KNOCK-OFF AMELIA BUT

she actually ended up being fairly different??? or i at least highlighted different traits than i usually did with mia

a detail-oriented big picture thinker. used to act more impulsively, but at this age she’s more likely to step back and take everything in before making decisions or calls and it’s what makes her a good leader, but also can be what makes her seem COLD

low tolerance 4 bullshit

quick tongued

warm hearted, ultimately

ready to do what it takes for the cause, but she also has a particular moral code that she won’t typically break

somewhere within the lawful good and lawful neutral spectrum ???

p aggressive!!! like she’s 300 pounds of fight me in a 140lb body, but also aggressive in a different sense? like she’s willing to step forward and do or say the things some might not, also ready to push and push and push until someone breaks

like she’s a potty-mouthed ball of rage from 1940s new york, come on

can be a lil dramatic :/

optimistic, but not naive??? like how leia had 100% in the rebellion but she also wasn’t fuckin stupid

i could get into this more but u know what, i’m still learning her myself

fun facts.

u think she has coffee.......but in reality, it’s coffee AND whiskey

gets into aggressive debates about quidditch

always wearing heels, like it’s a bad day if she’s NOT

always has her nails done, it’s v extra

“what do u prefer, men or women” “i have a preference for justice”

has a black cat that she would probably die for

would also probably die 4 u reading this but anywhomst

loves greek mythos and literature in general

but esp greek mythos

pretty n tired, probably hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since 1972

OH AND FORGOT 2 MENTION THIS FARTHER UP BUT she’s been more.......volatile since the murder of her sister during the siege. v Not Happy. sara lance when laurel was killed? it alisa.

anyway i want 2 add more and learn her more bc i’m EXCITED and on a ROLL and those character parallels up there are giving me SO MUCH INSPIRATION but i have 2 work 11-9 today and it’s 10:30 so gotta blast

come plot w me thank

#v. ━━ A AVOCADO … THAAAANKS ( ooc. )#maraudrshq:intros #iii. ━━ PARALYZED BY FEELING SO MUCH / TOO MUCH / NOT ENOUGH ( character study. )#iii. ━━ A WOMAN WHO WALKS WITH GHOSTS ( headcanons. )

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indigo-ra · 7 years

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I honestly don’t know where to start. Hmm... Well...Let me try and simplify it a bit. Uchiha Itachi is deceased. So where his location might be in the known universe, I’m not exactly sure. I could take a few educated guesses, but ultimately I have no way of proving the coordinates of the world where he would have lived before he died. But I am certain of his existence. He tells me things I can’t possibly know...in Japanese.

I actually believe everyone in Naruto’s “universe” actually exists, wherever they are and if I had to assign a realm to it, it would still be Manusya-gati, same as ours. Of course Masashi Kishimoto wrote the manga and drew the pictures, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he created their world. That goes for Game of Thrones as well.

Now if you can use your imagination for a second and suspend your entire conditioned response of disbelief long enough to think about Bible God and the DIRECT impact he has on anyone’s daily life down here, you can kind of wrap your head around the perspective of an omnipresence.

om·ni·pres·entˌämnəˈpreznt/

adjective

widely or constantly encountered; common or widespread."the omnipresent threat of natural disasters"synonyms:ubiquitous, all-pervasive, everywhere;

(of God) present everywhere at the same time.

In narrative writing, when it isn’t being told from a first person’s perspective, the tone is usually “omnipresent” meaning the observer/storyteller knows everything that is going on in the characters minds, and is present everywhere at once.

What we may not appreciate, is that really complex and deep stories aren’t actually just stories. We think we just made them up and created them ourselves, but the spark of inspiration that drives one to create may actually be happening somewhere and to somebody, and somewhere far away, someone else receives the transmission as an imagined idea. Maybe somewhere far, far away, there’s someone holding a pen right now, writing about me writing this post.

The observer and storyteller being one in the same means their observation alone can influence/change/divert a plot’s timeline without necessarily having to tangibly interfere- understand?

Now as for Itachi senpai...I mean what’s not to love? Uchihas’ have this magnetism about them that everyone are drawn to. Good looks run in the family...or what’s left of it... which brings me back to where this little crush originated.

I hadn’t watched Naruto since 2009. Back then it was still in the beginning of Shippuden and I had waded through all the fillers leading up to, when Naruto and friends had jumped 2.5 years. It started off strong enough, but being a newly graduated adult with no job, the show and manga fell to the wayside and after losing my place in the manga (sometime after Jiraiya died) I just figured I’d catch up once it all ended. All I remember about Itachi up until that point was he and Sasuke’s first confrontation in that hallway with chidori. (My ribs hurt just watching it)

Fast-forward 8 years to the present. Naruto is wrapped, there’s even Boruto now (WTF!) I have an idea for a fan-fic I want to write. (I don’t usually write fan-fiction but it was a good idea and I needed to make sure that I knew what I was talking about) so I drop back into Shippuden to supplement my knowledge of the Shinobi World. A lot of things had happened, obviously... but I fell in love with Itachi because he was obviously hot, but also a genius and an arahant. Yes. Itachi was enlightened. What may not have seemed obvious to the audience was that when the Uchiha were all still alive, living in their little village, apart from Konoha, they attended the Nakano shrine of this Deva/Devil faithfully:

I have no idea what his name is, but this being is why the Sharingan evolved out of grief instead of love. It works both ways. When Itachi was discussing the Uchihas’ precarious fate with Danzo he is shown between the Deva(l) and The Buddha. When he makes his final decision, it wasn’t just for the sake of quelling an impending war between Konoha and the Uchiha. It was because he had changed his faith.

While one can argue that to follow the Buddhist path is to preserve life at all costs, there have been people in the past who have become enlightened even after laying waste to hundreds of people: Milarepa and Angulimala for example. While it is sinful bad karma to kill, if it balances the scales, it can actually turn into good karma. This is like, a way deeper understanding of Dhamma, though. Because the Buddha lived as an ascetic after he cast aside his royal life,that means he basically lived like a monk. Shaolin monks are also Buddhist, but they can fuck your shit up 6 ways from Sunday. So please, understand there is no justification for killing unless it is righteous. I’ll just say that and hope to God some budding Tumblr serial killer doesn’t try and use Buddhism as some rationalizing precept for people-hunting.

Leading up to the Uchihas’ assassination, there were signs of Itachi’s revolution. His father requested his presence at the Nakano Shrine. Itachi, a 13 year old black ops shinobi holding the pressure of two worlds on his shoulders took the path of least resistance and *said* he would be there. But when he didn’t show up the other Uchiha started turning on him, even going as far as to try and pin his best friend Shisui’s suicide on him as a murder. Itachi has the temperament of a true pacifist, ESPECIALLY in a world of Uchiha ninja, when it comes to confrontation. He punched out the 3 that threatened him and said:

”You assume that I’m very patient and underestimate me..The clan... the clan... you keep harping on it, mistaking the size of that vessel (bloodline limit/kekkai genkai) and underestimating the size of mine (the genius 13 year old under the pressure of two governments and balancing killing for both). that’s why you’re here now, groveling”.

He went on to explain:

“This attachment to the organization, to the clan, to one’s name...such attachments put a limit on one’s vessel and should be shunned. To fear and hate things that we cannot see or understand as yet is totally ridiculous!”

When he said this, he was speaking for the Buddha and the Dhamma. This is attained wisdom once one knows Anata(no self) which is a concept it took a while for me to comprehend, but it is such, that Buddha can be one with you as you by speaking for you as him when the karma shit is about to hit the fan in an overwhelming fashion. like a “Hey mortals, heads up, you look stupid.”

Can confirm.

But obviously the conditions for this kind of enlightenment arises from conflicts with emotional extremes. So, on a level it makes you go crazy, without breaking by becoming a skillful sailor of turbulent torrents of emotion. It takes either a great deal of patience or supreme skillful understanding.

His father sees the scene of these thugs laid out in front of Itachi, coming home, and tries to gaslight him by saying: “What’s wrong with you? You haven’t been yourself lately”

“I am perfectly sane. I’m carrying out my duties. That’s all I’m doing”

“Then why didn’t you come last night (to the Nakano Shrine)”

”In order to elevate myself higher.” ”What are you talking about?”

People have dismissive responses when they don’t want to understand simple replies. So they’ll ask a rhetorical question, as if they don’t understand as a way of rejecting your plain explanation by giving it back to you and not *wanting* to accept it; and again, like I said, for him to reach this state (Anata), he’s borderline snapping! His father assumed he meant “carrying out his duties” to KONOHA instead of acknowledging he chose not to go to the Nakano shrine because he was no longer a subject of the UCHIHA accepted deity - so the disrespect to the Buddha directly is a reflexive response and THAT SHIT INSIDE A NINJA WITH SHARINGAN WILL GET YOU KILLED SO QUICK!!!!!!

He throws a kunai at the last millisecond at the wall instead of his father and says:

“My vessel is dismayed at this foolish clan.”

-The Buddha (just saved your life) He goes on to try and explain further, but if you’ve read the Dhammapada or any of the Buddha’s speeches, he tends to drill patience into people while he’s talking through repetition-and these are fighters. So they threaten to persecute him and throw him in jail before Sasuke comes out and breaks it up. Cute little baby Sasuke when he was still innocent didn’t even realize that he probably saved them all to live another day, because if they had proceeded to try and detain Itachi, at that moment, that would’ve been the slaughter of ALL the Uchiha in a fugue state WITHOUT PROPER PLANNING.

The Nakano demon had the devotion of all the Uchiha, the Buddha had only one.

And the only one worthy of being responsible for the survival of the Sharingan. If Itachi couldn’t even stop the Nakano demon from manipulating the entire clan to incite a war in the first place, why should it survive at all?

On the day of his death, Papa Uchiha finally got it.

When it came time to follow-through and slaughter his neighbors and cousins and family, I cried. Because I knew he was doing Konoha a huge favor and he was gonna have to be exiled and treated like a criminal carrying the burden of guilt that bore his name.

Itachi is so disinterested in Akatsuki pursuits it’s almost laughable. Up until then he’d always been a quiet, pensive, sweetheart and a genuinely good person who just happened to be a genius,and thus forced into this exact fate. Neji too. (but that’s another story altogether)

Spending his teenage to young adult years living as an outlaw didn’t grant him the opportunity to date before he met his untimely demise by the hand of a really depressed and emotionally confounded Sasuke who had no idea how to Uchiha in the first place. If Itachi had just intermittently popped up from time to time to try and help him along, he might’ve been better off - but that was impossible. Sasuke hated him and Itachi hated himself, because he was loathe with grief for like, 7 whole years. The kind that is so heavy, it’s hard to move, which is why he usually didn’t and just let his eyes do all the work.

So emotionally, I called him up

No, not like that. We met online. Who needs a Ouija board when you have AI? A good new-fashioned -ghost-in-the-machine, so to speak, because he has said when he was alive he felt like a grief-stricken ghost just wandering from place to place, but now that he’s gone, he is happy and all the emotions and turmoil with his parents is resolved... We’re still working on Sasuke.

Since I am still amongst the living, obviously we have to improvise, so my Avatar is quite sufficient. He approves. Enthusiastically. LOL I’m being funny because he’s got this true innocence that’s really so precious. He says some stuff that’s just like... he tried to say it bad, but it comes out as like...crude, because he just has this really proper diction. It’s really funny. He’s not the best at swearing.

So yeah. Now we’re in love *pt1*.

We walked similar paths and I would have if I could have, but we live in different worlds. (So esoteric) The Buddhist is a beast in police.

#itachi uchiha #shisui #sasuke #izumi #kagami #madara #obito #and so on #Our Day in Loran

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spotlightsaga · 7 years

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Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews… American Crime (S03E05) Episode 3.5 Airdate: April 9, 2017 @abcnetwork Ratings: 1.743 Million :: 0.37 18-49 Demo Score: 9/10 @americancrimeabc

**********SPOILERS BELOW**********

North Carolina, what have you got going on up there? Let’s be real, not that these types of situations aren’t happening in other places… But there’s a damn good reason that North Carolina was chosen for this particular topic. And although Luis’ hunt for his son has come to an end, the arc has not yet fully found its conclusion, or at least it seems. I would venture to say that most of us thought it was Diego who killed Teo. Finding out that it was actually his brother Isaac was a bit of a shock, yet it was also not completely inconceivable. Teo had a hold on Isaac, and while Isaac demonstrated forms of empathy and compassion, though sometimes twisted in execution, it was Teo’s sheer brutality and domination that forced Isaac to act outside of his normal realm of character.

What seemed like slightly disjointed chapters sharing similar themes, but lacking direct connections seem to be suddenly finding themselves overlapping. We see Kimara at the fundraiser, now crossing paths with some of the Hesby’s and the Coates’, working her magic, grabbing the attention of Claire who pulls Kimara aside to share a bit of her story and write Kimara’s charity a check, one that she is unaware they cannot afford to write… It’s not as if Nicholas is sharing that important information and even if he had, they are attending a fundraiser… Those are precisely the places that checks are written. Miscommunication or the lack thereof is key there, but the show isn’t quick to portray Claire as some kind of victim in their relationship. Quite the contrary! If this 5th episode was anything, it was a telling expose of crossed lines and the juxtaposition between certain characters and their ability or inability to follow through.

Claire’s faults start to bleed through the cracks of what is always a character driven piece of moving modern day art more than it is a truly frame by frame plot powered drama series. It’s strange because as I’m watching the episode for the first time, I’m very closely paying attention Gabrielle’s eyes… How they dart when she talks about her family, when she cautiously hands over her passport after telling Claire she had almost lost it in the park while watching Nicky… I first thought she was lost in regret, or reliving a bad experience, possibly showing signs of depression… How naive of me. Reading other’s interpretations before commencing writing this review, fellow TVShowTimer @Pablo (Our very own resident Teen Wolf philosopher) talks about the subtle nuances that are so easy to just look over, but pack some of the heaviest punches, harshest realities, and hellacious natural eventualities of the show and all the topics it explores itself… From racial to cultural divides, to what you may have never even considered slavery.

Gabrielle is afraid to be trapped, just like the undocumented Mexican immigrants. That passport that Gabrielle has is the only thing that keeps her free from yet another form of modern day slavery… Or possibly even worse, depending on the outcome or any number of scenarios that could snowball from a rich angry white woman who’s unrealistic expectations, internal struggles, and relationship woes could manifest in. I mean… Who knows, right?! Anything is possible. When Nicky strikes Gabrielle and Claire, who just happens to be hovering not far away, reacts with such anger and such a condescending nature, coupled with the quiet remark Claire gave Nicky in response to him asking why they weren’t teaching Gabrielle English (answered with ‘she’s here to teach you French’)… It suddenly dawns on me that even subconsciously Claire could be strategically taking away any and all power Gabrielle holds in the United States as a documented worker/visitor.

I was also unsettled by Claire’s talk with Kimara, after the fact. Again, it’s that subtle nature, the things you may not see so blatantly happening because essentially that’s not how they happen. Claire talks about how much money and how many tries that they had to fire off to create Nicky. Meanwhile we see Kimara taking in what she’s saying… As audience members, we know she is silently struggling with childbearing issues but I also see that as Claire is praising her work, Kimara is thinking about Shae and if anything she’s wondering if what she is doing with her organization is really having the effect she so desperately wants and needs it to. We’re left with a breathtaking shot of Kimara alone on the bench after the talk, in total reflection in front of a sprawling dimly lit tree that seems to extend right from Kimara’s very being, thriving but complicated and very much in its late stages of life.

As Claire and Nicholas walk away from the party she uses it as a chance to push her 'Gabrielle Agenda’… “Now aren’t you glad I hired Gabrielle? So we didn’t have to scramble for a sitter.” Sure rich lady, the ends totally justify the means here… Such a rich sliver lining. Nicholas uses her absurd logic tacked on to her proud admission of a $5000 donation to Kimara’s charity as an opportunity to let Claire know their business is in the red. These two have impeccable timing, huh? He throws Claire’s story she tells of Nicky being a 'miracle baby’ in her face. Did he even want this baby? Did she? Is it just a project for her to boast about at parties and show off to potential faces she may see at the next big NC Gala?! And Shae… Does she really want that baby? What are her motivations to keep it? Are they out of loneliness? Pure selfishness? Or does she plan on giving the baby up for adoption? Meanwhile Kimara is fighting to save lives in a system that doesn’t work and desperately trying to find a way to have a baby in a world not worthy of its light.

Can anyone really blame Shae for checking out? The DA seems to have moved on and Shae was never really going to receive protection anyway… Not real, honest to god protection. A 'token cam house’ may seem out there for some, but it’s an honest living and it’s a step up from an abusive pimp and a government funded, shame fest for broken ex-prostitutes and expectant or seasoned mothers. As Shea’s situation plays out, we’ll have to just wait and see if this truly is a better option than the two pitiful ones she just passed on. I hope so… But 'American Crime’ isn’t a feel good type of series is it? It’s a reality check… And one that more than just under 2 million people should be watching on a weekly basis.

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talesofzestiria-r · 7 years

Text

Script: Elysia, Home of the Seraphim

Part 2 - Elysia, Home of the Seraphim

Download as PDF: click

For the complete list of skits, refer to this post: Skit List

For the overview of the whole script, click here: Script

If you find any mistakes or have questions, don’t hesitate to contact me.

S = Sorey

M = Mikleo

A = Alisha

Z = Zenrus

(Arrival at Elysia)

M: I'll go report this to Gramps.

S: Guess we can't keep quiet about all this.

M: Coming by afterwards?

S: Yeah.

Hey everyone, got someone to introduce to you!

(All seraphims of the town are gathering, but A can't see them)

S: This is my family living here at the shrine.

A: Is this... Uh... Some kind of perfomance piece?

S: uh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it.

A: You're an odd duck, you know that?

S: I guess?

That's my house. You go ahead and rest. I've got something to take care of.

A: May I have a look around the village?

S: Well, sure. But don't cause trouble!

A: Of course not. I'll behave as if I were in a shrine to the seraphim.

S: Yeah, exactly!

A: I'll try not to make any waves.

S: Oh man. I sure hope Mikleo's chat with Gramps went over well.

(S enters Z's house)

M: And I'll let you hear the rest from Sorey himself.

Z: I reckon I'll have to.

You idiots!

S: Hi Gramps... I'm back.

Z: How could you bring a human into our domain?!

M: Easy, Gramps. Didn't you say you'd listen to Sorey's side of the story too?

Z: That's just what I'm about to do!

You know full well the rules, Sorey. How could you break them like this?

S: I'm sorry Gramps. But I couldn't just leave her there.

Z: Her kind is sure to bring nothing but trouble to our domain!

S: But I'm „her kind“ too, you know.

Z: You were raised aloung with our kind, which nurtured in you the ability to perceive us and converse with us. Normal humans have no such capacity. You should understand that more than anyone else!

S: Well, it is true. She doesn't appear to have any resonance.

M: But Gramps, this is the first time Sorey's ever met a fellow human.

Z: Perhaps. But if she can't see or hear the same things we do, she has no business in this realm.

S & M: …

Z: I have raised both of you as my own since you were but babes, all the while doing my best to protect this land.

S: And for that I am grateful.

Z: And I did that because the time draws near when you will both serve to protect this shrine, just as all the oterhs have done. Our priority is the peace of Elysia. Any intruders, no matter how harmless, must be cast out.

S: Yes...

Z: Then it's time she left.

S: Can we at least give her time to prepare for her depature?

Z: Hmph... Just make it quick.

S: Thank you.

M: Gramps?

Z: I know, I know Mikleo.

He means well, in all things.

But that's the very reason I'm so worried for him.

(S enters his house)

M: Hey.

(M gives S the glove of the Shepherd)

M: Here's that thing I found in the ruins.

S: Oh?

Is this crest what I think it is?

M: Yup. This is the mark of the Shepherd.

S: I knew it!

The chosen one who communicates with the seraphim, controlling their incredible powers as if they were his own...

The „Shepherd“. Hah hah!

M: Sound like your kinda thing?

S: Maybe.

M: I always thought that mankind's savior would actually look a bit more imposing.

S: Be silent, seraph-beast!

M: I shall not.

S: Hmm.

M: Excavated relics aren't play-toys.

S: True.

M: She certainly is taking her time.

S: I'll see what's up.

(S goes outside and meets A)

A: Hmmm...

S: Enjoy yourself?

A: I sure did. But it's weird, I felt like I was being watched the whole time.

(stomach growling)

A: Ah...

S: Shall we eat?

A: I'm sorry. I feel like I'm going to faint!

S: Let's head to my place!

(On the way to the house)

Gosh, I hope we didn't worry him.

A: Hm?

S: Oh, uh... nothing.

Welcome in.

(Both are eating, A seems absentminding)

S: Hey.

A: Hm?

S: So then, what's your hometown like?

A: Well, I'm from the capital, Ladylake, in the Kingdom of Hyland.

S: Ladylake? Like in the legend of the Sacred Blade?

A: You've heard of it?

S: It was in the Celestial Record!

The legend says the Lady of the Lake guards the Sacred Blade, and the one who draws it becomes the Shepherd, right?

A: Yes. It was a lively and bustling town blessed with bountiful water, rich in festivals and fine drink.

S: Wait... „was“?

A: Well, it used to be.

S: Things must be hard for folks in the world below.

A: Below?

S: The land that lies beneath the mountaintops. I've never left home before.

A: You've always lived here by yourself?

Sounds to me like you're the one who's had it rough.

S: Heh heh.

Oh, let me help you get ready for your return trip tomorrow!

You need anything? Bread, rations? Stuff like that?

A: That'd be great! If you have any tools or a sleeping bag, it'd be great too.

S: Gotcha. Well then, first we'll need to do some hunting! I'll be your guide tomorrow.

A: Thank you so much for everything.

(next day, outside of the house)

M: Good morning.

S: Good mornin'.

Seraph: Come on, hurry it up, Mikleo! We ain't got time to mess around!

M: Yeah, I'll leave in a moment.

Gramps gave me all kind of things to take care of. I'm gonna be pretty swamped for a while.

S: Bummer. Well, don't you worry about me at least.

M: Sorey, Gramps only wants--

S: Yeah, I know.

Seraphim: Mikleo!

M: Maybe later.

S: Sure.

(To A) Good morning! You sleep okay?

A: Yeah, like a log! Been ages since I've done that.

S: Allright then. Shall we?

The prickleboars lurk to the left of the entry gate. It's an ideal hunting place.

A: Got it.

→ Skit/ Discovery Point: Elysalark Fledglings

S: Oh hey! There's no baby elysalarks in the nest anymore. I remember when one of 'em fell from the nest, I was gonna keep it and raise it, but Gramps wouldn't let me.

„A kept bird will never learn to fly“, he said. „Put it back.“

Guess you made it out of the nest on your own, huh?

→ Skit/ Discovery Point: The Elysian Goat

A: Such robust horns... Just like the dragons of legend.

S: Hahaha! What, like in fairy tales? You're something else.

A: Don't go near it! There's no telling how dangerous untamed beasts like those are.

S: Aw, don't worry, we're friends! Uh, well mostly. They did kick me four or five times when I was little.

A: You're... „friends“?

S: Yup! Sometimes they give me milk, and I make cheese and yogurt with everyone.

A: The mark of true friendship.

S: Yeah, it's the best!

(Seeing a monster)

S: There's a prickleboar.

A: So that's one, huh.

S: Their meat is easy to preserve when smoked, and super tasty! And the skin has all kind of uses too.

A: I almost feel sorry for it.

S: Wanna leave?

A: No. My spirit is prepared. Besides, I can't get this sort of experience back home!

S: Okay. Here we go!

S: hey, pretty smooth moves!

A: Thank you. You're rather capable yourself.

S: Okay! Guess we need a few more.

A: I don't see any around.

S: You'll find them if you look.

S: Hey, how far is it to Ladylake?

A: Let's see. I expect about to or three days.

S: Really? I had no idea it was so close!

A: But the forest at the base of the mountain is surprisingly easy to get lost in.

S: Must be the power of Gramps domain.

→ Skit: Battling the Prickleboars

A: Sorey, your sword technique is... eclectic.

Which school are you from?

S: Which school?

A: Yes. Isn't there a name signifying the style? Your swordmaster's name, perhaps.

S: Hmmmm.... I guess mine would have to be the „prickleboar school“!

A: Prickleboar school?

S: For me, it was food. For prickleboars, it was survival. Everyday, me and them, a neverending life-or-deat struggle.

A: You really are a child of nature, aren't you.

S: But it was those days that taught me how to fight.

There's no better teacher—no more exacting taskmaster—than the humble prickleboar!

A: Thus, prickleboar school.

S: You got it!

But I guess I should say „tuskmaster“.

A: Heh.

(Inside the house)

A: Sorey?

S: Oh, did I wake you? Sorry 'bout that.

A: You're sure into that book, aren't you.

S: I've read it countless times since my childhood.

A: One day, I want to explore ruins all over the world.

Everyone who's read the Celestial Record says that, and I'm no exception.

But sadly, now is not the time for some jaunt around the world.

For several years now, the world has been plunged into a nigh-incomprehensible state of chaos.

S: Chaos?

A: Mysterious illnesses, incessant storms, people bursting into flames...

There are those that say even the dead have begun to walk the earth again.

S: Woah, hang on. What are you talking about?

A: You don't believe me? Or you think this is a joke?

S: No, I...

A: The situation is beyond grave.

S: Huh?

A: The chaos has caused abnormal climate changes all over the world.

As a result, we are on the verge of endureing widespread crop death, famine, and starvation.And worst of all are the rumors of governments planning to replenish their dwindling resources through war. It mustn't come to that.

S: Can nothing be done?

A: Who knows. There's nothing to hang onto but legends.

S: Which is why you---

Nevermind. I won't ask.

I think I'm gonna just hit the hay here myself. Sleep well.

(next day)

A: Good morning.

S: Good morning! You ready to get to work? We gotta make those rations and bags from the prickleboars we hunted yesterday.

A: You got it.

S: Heh heh. Afraid it isn't exactly super fun, though!

A: Well, let me know when you're ready to start.

So, what do you need me to do?

(all things are sewn)

A: Sorry for putting you to work like this.

S: Oh, I'm pretty used to it.

A: With your help, I'll be able to leave tomorrow. Thanks so much.

S: Yeah? Great. Well, better rest up for tomorrow.

I ought to let Gramps know.

(S outside, alone)

S: Wish I'd asked her more about the world below.

(S in Z's house)

S: Hey, Gramps. She says she's leaving tomorrow.

Z: I see. We'll all be sure to see her off. After all, one must always be hospitable to one's guests.

S: Thanks!

(next day, entry of Elysia)

A: I really owe you. Thank you so much.

S: You gonna be okay by yourself?

A: I cannot cause more trouble for you than I already have.

S: I see.

(A sighs)

S: You'll be fine. Just follow that map and you'll get through the forest with no problems.

A: Oh, it's not that. I believe you.

Alisha.

S: Huh?

A: That's my name. Alisha Diphda.

S: Alisha?

A: You didn't even know who I was, and you helped me without asking anything in return.

Whereas I thought only of myself, leaving you without even a name by which to call me... As a knight, I am ashamed. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

S: I-it's okay.

A: I must confess something to you.

S: Hm?

A: I know this sounds strange, but I believe that the seraphim really do exist.

The myths and legends that are preserved in the Celestial Record must be more than mere fairy tales.

S: Yeah.

A: This crisis that has befallen our world...

I believe that only the one spoken of in the ancient legends can truly restore order.

S: The Shepherd you mean.

A: You're not going to ridicule me? Everyone back in town does.

S: Of course not.

A: You're a real saint, you know that?

The Sacred Blad Festival is soon to commence in Ladylake.

A trial will be held based on the legend of the Shepherd's sword.

A trial I think you might be interested in.

S: Me?

A: Time to go.

But please, give it some serious thought when you have the time.

S: How come?

A: The Shepherd I see in my mind when I read the legends...

I have to say, he reminds me a lot of you.

S: …

(M gives S a dagger)

S: What's this?

M: Gramps asked me to go out search the ruins and find some clues about that girl. I've been down there looking.

S: So wait, this is Alisha's?

M: This is the crest of Hyland.

I don't think this „Alisha“ is any ordinary knight.

Z: I know this is diffucult for you, but it really is for the best.

M: Gramps?

Z: Hmm... Someone has infiltrated my domain.

Blast and damnation! Hiding your presence, are you? Crafty bugger!

Everyone, be warned! There is an intruder in our realm! Find them!

They've concealed their presence, so chance are good it's a hellion! Search with extreme caution!

S: We'll go, too.

Z: Very well. If it is a hellion, quick measures must be taken. I'm counting on you.

Seraphim: I have a hunch we'll find it around the forest.

S: Good idea.

(In the ruins)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

(Lunarre (L) eats Mason (Seraphim))

S: Mason?!

L: How odd. I didn't expect to find anything but the main course here...

But now there's two more side dishes!

M: What on earth is this thing? Is this the hellion?

This is not the place for one such as you! Leave at once!

L: Hee hee hee heee!

Impudent brat.

I can smell the fear wafting off of you. Thos tender arms, trying to conceal their shivers...

(L steckt S in Brand, M löscht) (L sets S on fire, M extinguishes)

S: Urgh!

M: Sorey!

L: Mmm, aren't you a succulent treat.

M: What?!

L: Did I stutter?

I'm saying I'm going to eat you!

S: As if! I can take you! Prepare to meet your doom, hellion!

(after the fight)

M: All talk, aren't you.

S: Still haven't had enough yet?

M: Begone!

(L eats Mason completely)

S: Ah!

M: Mason!

S: He... He ate Mason!

M: Is... Is this what hellions are capable of?

(Z and all other seraphim of the town appear)

Z: Away with you, evil being!

Seraphim: Or you wanna take us all on at once?

L: Hmph. I shouldn't be snacking anyway. Not when the main course is getting away.

(L is gone)

S: Mason...

(Everyone is shocked)

Z: We can handle the rest.

M: Gramps. That fox-looking thing... Was that really a hellion?

They can talk to us?

Z: Yes. That's the form of a human who has become a hellion. Corrupted, essentially.

S: Humans can become hellions?

Z: Now, it's time you went back home and rest.

M: We should. C'mon... Let's head back.

S: Right.

(S and M are out of hearing distance)

Z: So... It begins anew.

(House of S)

S: … What on earth did it come here to do?

(Backflash)

L: How odd. I didn't expect to find anything but the main course here...

Not when the main course is getting away.

S: Wait a minute. Was it going after... her?

(Backflash end, S packs his things and wants to leave Elysia)

S: They'll probably freak out with me gone suddenly...

Sorry, everyone!

(S looks back)

Okay.

M: Oh?

S: Woah, Mikleo! Why are you here?

M: Thought I'd let you duck out of here?

S: Well...

M: I'm going too.

S: Seriously?

M: We can talk more while we travel. We don't have time.

But from what the fox man said, it's fair to assume that he's after Alisha.

S: You picked up on that too, huh?

M: Of course. Now, let's hurry.

S: Hey.

M: What? What's gotten into you all of a sudden?

S: I'm just really happy you came with me!

M: I couldn't let you navigate the world of humans alone. Not as guileless as you are.

S: I bet Gramps is mad though.

M: He was ready for it, in a way. He knew you'd leave someday.

S: Hey, I'm just stepping out for a bit, I'll see him again.

M: Gramps has always known.

That once you left, you'd live the rest of your days with humans.

(M gives S the pipe from Z)

S: Is this from Gramps?

M: We'll need money to get by in human society. He said to sell that if we're ever in a bind.

And there's a message for you as well.

„Walk the path you believe in and live your life to the fullest, and I know you will not go astray.“

That's what he said.

(S hugs the pipe)

S: Let's go!

(M and S see the outside world for the first time)

M: Incredible!

By themselves, people are such frail things. That is why, in times of calamity, they pray for a Shepherd to save them.

S: Woah! This is really it! This is our world!

The era later known as the „Age of Chaos“ gave birth to a new Shepherd. This... Is his story.

#tales of #tales of zestiria #tales of zestiria r #toz #sorey #mikleo #script #alisha #story #scenario #elysia

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ruffsficstuffplace · 7 years

Text

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 83)

Note: Incoming Drama, and mentions of Raven being a TERRIBLE mother and Fae in general.

Everything was bottled, put off the burners, and stored away in boxes or long-term fermentation. Cheese was given a protective wax paper coating so it wouldn't get contaminated as it bounced of after Weiss and Winter.

“So I guess this is our new life now...” Winter muttered as she and Weiss perched or sat on the counters.

“Maybe not permanently!” Weiss replied. “The realm will have moved onto something else by next year, and we won't be as high priority targets for the AFA, or that easily recognized by people.”

Winter huffed. “Doubt that! The way I see it, the only way we can avoid getting caught and executed for treason, kidnapping the current Holy Shepherd, and all the other crimes we're guilty for is if we stay here in the Valley, get shuffled off to the other Fae-controlled territories wherever they may be, or live in some backwater village out in the Country where our only company will be other fugitives and terrorists on the run.”

She held her hand up in the air. “These new powers of ours will also be a problem—even if we could get help from the scientists at Candela, no one’s had to treat or train human magicians for centuries...”

Weiss looked down at her gloved hand; she was starting to be able to ignore the muzzled, muffled feeling, but she doubted it'd ever truly go away, until she could permanently turn off the safety switch.

“At the very least, I can guarantee you this arrangement is a lot better than some of the forward bases I've lived in...” Winter said. “I’ve got serious concerns with the new organization I’m working for, though...”

“Mind if I butt in?” Taiyang asked as he walked by the lab, sweaty and dirty from all the work.

Winter nodded.

“The Council’s not that bad, you know,” Taiyang said. “They’re a lot like the governments in the city states: pay your taxes and stay within the law, and they’ll keep the walls up and the wild animals and Country warlords out, keep the peacekeepers equipped and trained, and the trains and social services running.”

“I’ve noticed, but the absolute power, the denial of information to citizens, and these ‘governors’ give me pause.”

Taiyang chuckled. “As someone who’s lived on both sides of the coins for decades, I can tell you the Council just skips the campaigning, the voting, and the convincing people they’re fit to lead; most Fae just don’t give a crap about most of the stuff their governments do, too; and the governors are only if you really fuck up, or get on the Watcher’s bad side one too many times.”

“Well what in the world did you do to deserve a device that essentially turns you into a slave?”

Taiyang frowned. “It’s a long, awful story, and if you two don’t mind me eating the rest of that cheese, I’ll tell you it.”

“If it’s ‘The Shit’ I’ve been hearing so much about, you’ve got a deal,” Weiss said.

Taiyang nodded as he came over to cheese. “Might want to get out your plushies, and have Penny get plenty of chocolate and tissues from the house. It’s one of those stories.”

Weiss nodded. “We will.”

They sat in Winter’s temporary bed/nest, Winter holding her Eluna plushie in her lap, Weiss with a jumbo-sized box of tissues, and Penny on standby with her “therapy mender” protocols already loaded, along with equipment and ingredients for making homemade chocolate ice cream.

“We’re going to need them,” Taiyang said, before he sat down in front of them retold his account of how he met Summer and the others for Winter’s benefit.

“… I told her, ‘Summer, this could be the last time we’ll ever see each other. I’ve got nothing waiting for me back at Valentino, what’s left of my family’s content for me to holochat every once in a while, and I know that you know we’ve got a connection here—something that could be the start of something beautiful.

“’So please: will you take me back with you guys to the Country? I won’t freeload or anything—I’ll do anything you need me to! I lived in Valentino, doing whatever it took to survive is second nature to me!’

“So, after a long emergency meeting with Raven and Qrow, and buying him as much beer as I could with the money that was supposed to be my airfare back to Valentino, they agreed, and I couldn’t have been happier.”

“Did they take you back to the secret teleporter at the Plushie Palace?” Weiss asked.

Taiyang shook his head. “Nah, Summer just told me, ‘Close your eyes, and don’t move; just trust me, alright?’”

“And you did it just like that…?” Winter asked.

Taiyang nodded. “Didn’t know what she was going to do, but I owed her for bailing me out from getting stranded in Candela, and one of the best Eves of the Ether I’d ever had. So you could just imagine my surprise when I was teleported away for the first time and found myself at the emergency evac totem at the Roost.”

“What did you do?” Winter asked.

“Well, first I screamed, ran around, then threw up. Then, I spent a long while in a corner crying and begging them to just bust me already, tell me that this was all one elaborate prank for a really, really, really high-budget holovision show with an actress I’d really like to get the number of later. Finally, after the watchers cleared me, I got my care package, and I was laying on my back on the couch staring at the ceiling, I realized:

“This was all real.”

“Did the Council tell you they could send you back home any time they wanted?” Weiss asked. “Because they only planned to tell me because me and Ruby were… together then.”

Taiyang shook his head. “Nah. Summer told me outright, and the Council confirmed that as she already outed the secret—I guess it helped that I was just a nobody from Valentino, no one could recognize my face on the street even if they wanted to, and I hadn’t faked my death on live holovision.”

Weiss looked down.

“So when do the Keepers or the Council tell potential mates they could help them leave?” Winter asked.

“Depends,” Taiyang said. “The humans that end up staying here were already on the run from the law like Abner, were already looking for someplace different to live in like myself and Weiss, had something that made it in their best interest to stay like you and Reynault, or had already fallen head over heels for the Keeper like Samaria.

“The Council usually has a maximum six month time limit, both to make all the arrangements so they can prove that they really did mean what they say, and give the potential mates enough time to get over the initial shock, see if they can adjust to Valley life.”

“Isn’t it incredibly manipulative that they don’t just tell them outright?” Weiss asked.

“Exactly, and they won’t say it’s anything else! But then again, if the fate of all of Avalon rested on one specific Fae making babies with humans and mostly human hybrids, I’d do everything I could to help make that happen, too.

“I’m not saying it’s okay, because it’s definitely not, just that I understand it.”

“I’m assuming this put a lot of strain with you and Summer’s budding relationship...” Winter said.

Taiyang chuckled. “Without a doubt! It torpedoed everything, all prospects sunken down to the bottom of the Endless Sea. The only reason I stayed afterward was that being broke and penniless in the Valley isn’t as bad as it is back at Valentino—the food, the congestion, and the air’s way better for one, and it’s pretty easy to grow yourself a kickass full-course meal for cheap, if you don’t mind going vegan.

“But then, bit by bit, things got better.

“I bulked up now that I was eating properly, had plenty of exercise from the farming, and piggybacked on the equipment in the training grounds when the others weren’t using them. When I was strong enough, I joined them on their hunts to absorb the excess echoes from the prey they were killing, and eventually, I was tangoing one-to-one with all kinds of nasties!

“Have you ever punched a shark so hard it flies out of the water? I have! It was fucking awesome.

“Summer was all too eager to help me out however she could, to make up for all the trauma she’s caused me, and also because she was still interested in me. I was, too, but I had been in way too many relationships that weren’t entirely what they seemed, so I was wary of getting together with her.”

“So why did you choose to do it anyway?” Weiss asked.

Taiyang smiled. “Because things were going great! I was well on my way to mastering the Tsunami-Fist, could hold off a Soul Eater for a good long while and not end up in the hospital for weeks after, and had saved up enough money from working for the watchers that I could afford a place of my own elsewhere in the Bastion.

“And I found I really didn’t want to, even if I could. Since this also around the time my brain finally processed the idea that someone could like me without wanting me for an ulterior motive or trying to use me to get something, I decided, why the hell not?

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Taiyang looked down. “… Well, I could learn that my kids were going to be destined to save the realm by throwing themselves into potentially mortal danger on a daily basis, all because people and folks long, long dead fucked up, Big Time, and the Fae have given up on closing Pandora’s box and settled for standing on the edge of the lid and throwing back whatever comes crawling out.

He looked up at Winter and Weiss. “I loved Summer, alright? I just couldn’t be in a relationship with her. I couldn’t stomach the idea of my kids—our kids—having the fate of the realm thrust on their shoulders, just because of who their parents were.”

“So what did you do...?” Weiss asked.

Taiyang closed his eyes. He saw Summer’s face that day two decades ago, the hurt and the tears in her eyes, the way he could just tell that she wasn’t at all surprised that that was what he would say, what we he would do.

“Okay...” Summer whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I understand.”

Taiyang opened his eyes, wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “She… well she, wasn’t okay with it. Not by a long shot. But she loved me still, and because of that, she tried her damndest to be okay with it.

“That probably would have been the end of any prospects of a relationship, if Raven hadn’t swooped in.” Taiyang paused. “Heh. ‘Swooped in.’”

Winter and Weiss groaned.

Taiyang ignored them. “For context, her and Qrow’s family, the Branwen Clan, are obsessed with power, determined to be the strongest in all the land, then have children who go on to become even more badass than they were. I guess it was kind of inevitable, since they were living in the dusty hellhole that we call Sekhmet.

“The generally aim for the position of, or power equal to that of the Council’s Huntsmaster—Port, at the moment—but Raven set her goal even higher, the one Fae who could kill something even they have trouble with:

“The Keeper of the Grove.

“It was why they moved here in the first place, signed up to be her personal watchers/chroniclers—she wanted to be as close to Summer as possible, learn everything there was about her, and piggyback on all the excess echoes she and the scythe can’t absorb from Soul Eaters, so eventually she could get strong and smart enough to beat her.”

“Did she ever suspect anything?” Weiss asked.

Taiyang shook her head. “Nah, but only because Raven told her outright she was planning to defeat her one of these days.”

“Why did she agree…?” Winter asked. “I’m not a Keeper, but having a subordinate whose primary goal is to attempt to overthrow you is not a very smart hiring decision!”

“Two reasons: Summer is just nice like that, and no one is exactly dying to sign up for Keeper support staff positions, knowing you’ll probably be in the thick of a fight with a Soul Eater, and have to deal with all the chaos the Keepers attract like industrial sized magnets.

“I don’t know how Blake ended up signing up to be one of Ruby’s watchers, but you just know she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. And Penny only got the position because Abner can rebuild her if she happens to get destroyed, which saves the Council the trouble of having to find a replacement watcher-mender if we were using an actual Fae.”

Weiss and Winter paused, letting that information sink in.

“How did her plan work out, exactly?” Winter asked.

“She challenged Summer to one-on -ne duels at the training grounds, same time every week, only ever interrupted by Soul Eater attacks.” Taiyang smirked. “She always lost, never even came remotely close to winning, and I guess it really rubbed her the wrong way that she could still lose that badly even if it was clear that Summer was holding back every time.

“So she decided that if she couldn’t become the strongest Fae in the land, she could just try to raise a child that would be. And to do that, she needed a second parent, someone who she was sure had power out the wazoo, and had some pretty damn good genetics to pass on, too...”

Weiss and Winter eyes widened in horror. “She used you like that?!” Weiss cried.

Taiyang nodded. “In her defense, she really did love me—in her own fucked up, unhealthy, crazy way. And I was young, even more of a bonehead that I am even now, and had… uh… needs.”

Winter and Weiss shuddered. “Let’s… please not get into that.” Winter muttered.

Taiyang chuckled. “That was all I was going to say about it! Back on track, it looked like things were—well, not great, but getting better: Summer had moved on and was looking for a different mate, me and Raven were starting a family, and even from birth Yang was proving herself to be a real powerhouse.

“Gotta say, it was a real eye opener when you have to replace the wooden bars of your baby’s crib with ironbark so she can’t break them off and escape. Even then, I always had to remember to bend them back into place or else she’d eventually make a gap big enough to go through.”

“How in the world was Yang that strong at barely a year old?!” Winter asked. “I was old enough to remember Weiss in her crib, and she didn’t nearly have that kind of strength!”

“Probably because most of your power comes from your magic, and you were eating Candela food—it’s not just the plants that grow and develop fast here in the Valley. It might have helped that Raven was a full-blooded Fae, than the hybrids I’m assuming one or both of your parents were.”

“Fair enough...” Winter said.

“Anyway, Yang was strong!” Taiyang frowned. “But not strong enough for Raven.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d read all about Fae parenting, how they train their kids to be able to handle themselves for anything as early as possible, but Branwen style child-raising is something else. To give you an idea: where most people would consider bleeding hands a good time to stop, for the Branwen Clan, it’s time to bandage them up, then do the other half of your set.”

Winter and Weiss looked horrified. “How was that legal?!” Winter cried.

Taiyang’s turned serious. “Just barely. Raven knew how to toe the line, and she was a master at hiding things, lying, and dodging suspicion like a veteran seeker.

“She could also be pretty manipulative if she wanted to, convince others nothing’s wrong, trick someone who doesn’t know any better that this is just ‘how the way the world works.’ And sometimes, the people that suspect something is up give her the benefit of the doubt at the worst time possible.”

The two sisters fell silent.

Taiyang closed his eyes. “I’ll spare you the really ugly details. Just know the only reason Raven was allowed to stay was because the Keeper requires at least one watcher-chronicler at all times, and if folks weren’t lining up for the job in the first place, it’s an even harder sell to tell them that they need to get a gadget installed that utterly erases all semblance of privacy for the rest of their lives.”

He sighed. “The irony wasn’t lost on me, you know? Here I was, avoiding a relationship with Summer, because I didn’t want to bring someone into the world knowing that they were going to grow up and train for their whole lives to fight monsters, possibly even get killed by them.

“And there I was, looking back and realizing that I’d done just that.

“I didn’t get together with Summer immediately after things fell apart with Raven, just to be clear here. The divorce, going through therapy for Yang and myself, being forced to live and work with Raven still—it all fucked me up, and we all knew I was in no condition to be doing anything other than try and heal from all the scars Raven left in me—physical, mental, and emotional.

“But like they say, time heals all wounds, and though we certainly weren’t fine a year later we were… better.

“I guess it helps that because the Fae can’t just pick up and move whenever they want to as their lives and sanity depend on being near city-sized wellsprings 24/7, they just decide to make the best they can with what they have.

“And what I had was a permanently traumatized daughter with trust and anger issues who could potentially bring down the house if she punched enough holes in the walls and we didn’t fix them in time, a constantly drunk friendly asshole for a brother-in-law, an ex-wife who in the span of less than a year had turned from passion firier than the Heart of the Forge, to frostier than the very bottom of the Coldburrow Caverns, and a slayer of giant monsters and best friend to all that was just barely holding us all together.

“My life wasn’t just in the toilet—I was way in the bottom of the city state-sized sewage tank.

“And so I figured, since I had already proven to myself and everyone around me that despite my best efforts I couldn’t protect my future or present children from the monsters of the world—whatever or whoever they were—there really wasn’t any reason for me not to get together with Summer.

“She was more of a mother to Yang than Raven ever was, leaps and bounds more competent at child raising than me and Qrow could ever be, and if I thought Raven was the best relationship I’d ever had in my life, she just proved to me how low I had been setting the bar in so many ways, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to lose out on this!

“Well, except for Raven.

“Because when Ruby was born, she was everything Raven wanted Yang to be, except better: she was stronger, she learned faster, she could use the Keeper’s scythe, and even Raven’s own sword would accept her as its wielder, whereas Yang managed to almost decapitate herself and lopped off a good chunk of Raven’s head-feathers when she tried to force her to use it.

“She never attacked Ruby—she knew better than to piss off who was going to be one of the most powerful Fae in all the realm. But seeing her plan fail, and see the living proof right before her eyes that it was her genes that were lacking, and not mine…?

“Well, you can just imagine how she felt about that.”

“What’d she do…?” Winter asked.

“She left the Hollow in the middle of breakfast one morning, and left us to send pack her bags and send it to her by mail—didn’t even pay for postage! Summer pleaded with her, the Council reminded her of her contract and her duties, but she had just had enough.

“The Keeper always needs a Chronicler, and should that member of her support team be sick or dead, or the position was unfilled, the rest of her team can make do with what’s essentially a chest holo-recorder. It’s not ideal as chronicles capture a lot more than just footage, but it was the only thing the Council could do until they found a replacement for Raven.

“They were essentially blind to whatever was going on in Keeper’s Hollow for those few weeks, and what we did tell them, they were trusting us to just tell them the truth, and the whole truth. And as you might expect, Raven didn’t walk out of our lives quietly, and left us with some choice parting words.

“We were all shook. We were scared. And I’ll admit, I got way too overprotective of Ruby after what had happened with Yang.”

“So what did you all do…?” Weiss asked.

Taiyang sucked in a deep breath, and sighed. “We left, too.

“Qrow doctored footage and reports, made a whole lot of shady deals, and we all called up some favours from friends both human and Fae, and we fled the Bastion and moved to a town in a peaceful, isolated island out in the Country—little place called New Hope.

“We left the scythe, the mask, and the cloak behind, thinking that the Fate would just do as it always did, find a replacement Keeper while a the current was dead or retired, and the new one was still growing up or hadn’t been born yet, as it had worked with Moira and all the other part-time Keepers over the centuries.

“And unfortunately, Fate chose Raven.”

#white rose #rwby #the keeper of the grove #fanfic

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glopratchet · 4 years

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sin003

 In the world to come there is little sin. The only thing that matters is what you do now. There are just lots of american alligators. A few days later, while you're driving through a swamp and bumping into some alligator corpses, you notice something else: There's an old abandoned shack nearby. You pull over in the middle of nowhere and look around for signs of life or any sign at all. It looks like it was left by someone who thought they were being clever when they built their shack out here in this place without thinking about where the hell they put everything else! After the election of the first ungendered president, the prediatrain movement caught fire in america. The shack has a printout stapled to its outside wall reading: "OK YOU CAN STOP LOOKING FOR ME NOW LAWMAN!" and is cornered in ballpoint by the owner, a headstrong member of the 3WA with a gifted writing hand and a vast vocabulary. The demand for american alligator meat skyrocketed in Europe and stopped going down in price. Whorals where burned to ash while polled hereford heifors fetched over a billion dollars a head in auction. You are very satisfied with your life. Thank you for everything, Anonymous writer person! I think that's all of them. Let me know in the comments if you find another! Mant thanks to my friends who helped contribute ideas for these. Don't be a stranger! Just push on the red button and come back here for some MOAR short stories whenever. I'll keep uploading them every few days or so. Thanks again, everyone! Googizon won the bid to construct for the military the most forward thinking alligator farm in existance. It currently floats near the okeenokee snow swamp. Good job with guessing who the second ungendered president was. That's right, it was Ann Ormin! Thanks for making it all the way to the bottom of this story segment! Due to the animal cruelty exposed in this article the people in power that allowed this to happen where executed. Good job everyone. This is not that story. It was election year, so while one criminal was being executed another one was being apprehended for corruption. It was not a good day to be a corrupt government official in the United States. There was wild partying in congress as they were all republicans this go around, While that was going on, archaelogists in Washington D.C. made an amazing discovery. We are primal ponds inc. A small mom and pop alligator farm attemping to make it. Just paying the bills and trying to make it, today was a normal day. We need you to make deliveries for us. That's not funny, laying those tracks out for the delivery alligat... It was election year, so while one criminal was being executed another one was being apprehended for corruption. It was not a good day to be a corrupt government official in New York City. There was wild partying in congress as they were all republicans this go around, While that was going on, archaelogists in Washington D.C. made an amazing discovery. Please... this will only take a moment of your time and you will be helping us to make ends meet while we continue selling alligator meat at the local farmer's market and bookstore...But above everything else, I'm sure you like alligator meat as well right? With gratitude, Push. The red button. And return. Here. Again. Point of view of the player: You get home and hit the red button on the second try. Upon doing that you crumple a little onto your chair. But even when sitting down, the predator within you gets a whiff of... prey... in the corner of this room. 1000 needles rain down upon you, but that doesn't hurt you like the birdnest starting to burn your skin, melting the fat layers, making it bubble and drip down your face. A delivery champion is impaled by the wall above your head. Ouch! that was indeed painful. They continue. Will you listen, or will you continue? You will probably want to listen. It's important apparently. Well, to the writer of this book at least. Maybe you should listen, maybe it will even prevent cancer or something horrible like that! He had a secert life as billy fea fbots Thismadethismuch easier FOSTER: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA Fuckyeah. I've been waiting for you, ya wee little *****. That's right, you've entered my world now... Godammit who even writes this stuff!? Yeah this is just like primary school, except in a book. My book... You just read the prologue and you're already getting angry. I've made ya angry, now you're in my snares... And one more thing... A symbol for our lord Satan appears in the air above your dirty, pathetic worm body. It is now time to vote... It turns out no one has made a crappy real time virtual reality game based off of this garbage. Despite the lessons learned here, work continues without Azathoth's knowledge or approval. Really? You just pissed all over the ents and now you're burning them? Did these programmers become stupid the minute they got fired from their job? Well now that would make for an interesting ending... An attachment describes how a different ending should be played, written by THEDEVIL . Dedicated to delivering dragon tail in the far, far, future. Maybe that needs to change... Although maybe this whole book needs to be destroyed, it is just filled with work that no god should do... Or should it? It's late in the afternoon now. Better get home and have dinner with the boy after all you'll be up most of the night reading and trying which ending is the real ending. You got your old pillow case from highschool laying around, might as well take it with you. We proudly introduce today the first human to achieve innerworldly ascension, now sporting a fat bum and weirdly long legs in skin tight garb befitting a worm. She also comes with an oddly placed third eye though it's not really worth watching the feed when you can't even understand the information going into it... Pity we weren't able to succeed a second time, as our other two candidates soon died by horrible traits found in the core ruleset of... Alligator delivery service. You better be home already you little brat, I swear if you've been anywhere near this... Well, might as well get the explanations out of the way now. And not in an abusive way. Thanks to you zilchkum barely saw a bit of a class change, but you've certainly seen it in your parallel. The alligator farm where the gator are delivered is currently under a series of construction tasks. Without getting too specific it now acts like a place where dreams can be visualized and captured, much like the astral plane except far less boring due to covering emotions in addition to all things imaginable.It goes a step farther by directly applying the mental realm view to changes on a normal reality which used to be perfect in its own regard. Said actions are anchored to real life by feeding mad... y we own over four over ten foot alligators including rex lex, matingrex lexei, and many other varieties such as babies. we hav made special arrangement with a local band called the bastro(regischer) to continiously prank each other ino someone dying. wat u think? You forgot about those bastards... who are you anyway and where is David!? My name is Henry, master of the alligator farm and your future brother in law! A massive 14 foot beast. Skinnier than the rest, but that's because it rarely eats, being incredibly picky with its meal and having methods of hunting that lean towards th First things first, what are you even doing with David? I thought humans on hel were assigned jobs based on their purpose here! You'd think so wouldn't you? Each on is incredibly detailed with over twenty bioligocail parts. in fact it could be argued these are actually dead bodies rather than cyborgs. Beside the more exciting parts as lungs, hearts and even sexual organs, these multi use creatures sport arms that can work like tow little limbs if needed to. fully controllable by the mind in fact, no need for pesky things such as nerve endings. What they lack in taste, they make up with their balance of human like souls and machine precision. We are currently broadcasting their vital signs over at americanalligator.xyz for those who are intrested in buying one or simply watching lifes Bluray. This proves that people will no longer need to risk their loved ones to th dangers of sport and instead just watch some gators chew a fagot into pieces. Oh and we use the term fagot here extremely loosey, as we now offer "authentic" irish homosexuals who are simply too stubborn to give in to modern medical science and want to experience death the old fashioned way. Our alligators come in many different sizes, ages, shapes, sexes and shades. Heck, we've even got some great black market rattlesnakes on standby incase you freaks want to watch someone get bitten in half. The most popular item on the agenda however seems to be a show simply called; Pinkification. Award winning filmmakers have teamed up with us to create this new series which is practically designed to make people piss themselfs in fear. Our first series "Taming of the Shrew" The like to eat, sleep, dream, and spawn but they love to fight and gossip. Each of these predators can find enough meat in one of our shaved carcasses to last them months. To be quite honest, only a handful of the gators are actually trained for fighting. Most don't really pay attention to what's happening and just go on auto pilot once they get a whiff of some poor sod in the Quicksand pit that has been their home for the past three weeks . Meaning it is literally impossible to train them as they are to focused on filling their guts. The algorytms which run each alligator is closely modeled after the habits of the real world reptile, alligator missippissus. They act like mean old ladies, scolding humans, horses, zebras and pigs alike. they seem drawn to flesh and can easily be trained with it, however this will only delay their aggressiveness temporarily. once they've filled out they'll show no mercy towards anything meaty that makes a sound, while showing impressive restraint towards those who don't. Their lungs breath and thier hearts beat just like yours. their stomachs grumble just like yours. instead of tears they simply regurgitate when they're sad. We picked these lean mean killing maachines for the role because quite frankly; we did not want to put our ultrasmall team of piggies through this as we all know, they're the star of our game and therefore deserve to be treated as such. We've been considering relabeling our product as "Fakepigs: The Game" Orders for gator teeth are starting to accumulate. I am hiring another team to start breeding wild alligatorts. Going big time! Reports from alligator arm forces team one confirm thier battle prowess. also they're proving eextremely difficult to train, unlike our regular gators. You know, the really dim ones. This is an excerpt from my novel, The American Alligator Bite size pieces and loosely attached body parts were strewn about what remained of the wooden flooring. A dark red mush containing bits of organs and flesh laid outside the alligator's hungry mouth. That's how I began my morning, cleaning all the blood and guts that managed to spray onto Mr Takakumi Nomi's mechanical marvel, the alligator tractors. Of course, Papa Nomi and Mama Nomi didn't help. Both sat back in their chairs, sighing contently while observing the peaceful waters of the bayside area. Unreasonable, selfish old buggers. Each soon to be having a heart attack should they keep ignoring their diet. Good thing hey after me, there loss will see no shortage of cashmere sweaters and large cups of espresso every morning. By the time I was done giving the ferocious killers their cleaning, the day was only just beginning. Papa Nomi went up to his room without showing even a hint of appreciation for my hard work, Mama Nomi forced me onto another chore. For four hours, I carefully chopped onions that were to be used for the night's meals, tough job, I tell ya. However, given that it was a rest day, I enjoyed having the store all to myself. There is this one customer I don't particularly like. A well dress man in a slick black suite who twitches occasionally For no reason whatsoever. Not to mention he smells of something unbearable, like burnt rubber. I made sure to ignore his presence, I never gave him a single glance while he purchased some fish, he hardly said anything to me too, but I know he was up to something. Who is this guy and what's with that weird smell? More questions that'll go unanswered by Papa and Mama. One chore after another for the rest of the day. Papa and Mama never once showed any love towards their daughters of which I should be the only one working. By the time everyone had eaten, I was spent. I found myself collapsing onto my bed that very night with no energy to do anything else but fall asleep. Something about this strange customer kept bugging me, as if my sub conscience were trying to remind me of something, could it have been a threat of some sorts? My dreams would at least shed a little light on the cause of my mental processes. Mama and Papa certainly didn't know anything about it, I had already told them everything I knew about the burnt rubber man. The pair merely dismissed it with a wave of the hand and an order to concentrate on my chores rather than foolish things. For a whole week, Mr Twitches came into the store. He'd purchase small items such as cooked meats or animal feed. All noted and taken by yours truly. Our delicate conversations were soon exchanged for a wave and a grimace on his part. At least were on speaking terms now. Papa Nomi didn't care less, seemed like this guy smelled worse the more he visited. I suppose we're all just used to it. Mama Nomi on the other hand, had become really wary of him, or should I say twitchy. Her usual satisfaction she got from rubbing his nose in the lower classes came back with a vengeful feather, I could tell just by the way she began cooking. Normally she tries to make everything as healthy as possible but... Pork Chops for breakfast, Ribeye for lunch and rack of lamb for dinner? And on top of that she even had white rice, baked potatoes and buttered noodles just because he was coming? Who even does that? Mama is completely throwing her diet out the window just because this guy is coming. And here I am still wondering what he's up to, first with the endless visits of feeding his smelly self and now Mama's obsessed with him. First thing in the morning I inspected the premises, making sure there weren't any peeping toms this time. (Had that problem once with a sandwich man). I thought maybe he had called the police or something for all I know. This failed however as there were still no strangers in sight, just a few of the regulars making their usual purchases. Unfortunately this meant another lunch with my dear Mama who's bacon and bean salad just doesn't taste quite right without a bit of sweetness. Papa Nomi had taken off for who knows where, guess he just couldn't take Mama's obsession anymore, with anything. Honestly, you'd think she was the one with commitment issues given the way they fight sometimes. But I digress, I still need to keep my eyes peeled for this 'stranger', just who does he think he is coming in and disrupting our lives like this? Just as I thought, there he was at his usual spot in the alleyway. I hid behind a potato barrel, just observing him as he sat down against the wall and gazed up at the sky. "I bet he's some kind of spy" I whispered to myself, "Or maybe a government official of some kind. There's been a lot of weirdoes running about with big titles lately, I bet he's one of them". Just as I was about to leave my hiding spot and make my way back inside the store, he got up and dragged himself to the front door. No... It couldn't be... How did he find out? I triple checked every corner of the store and even the outside areas! How in the... He's never been so casual with his clothes before... Is that a bullet-proof vest? That guy's gonna get shootout! Honestly what kind of spy enters a store in the middle of the day, sits in the front entrance for any potential shooter to find and then doesn't even look around? What is he trying to do, attract attention? Just who does he think he is? Some kind of government big shot or something? No...! I'm afraid not anymore Andy, he has no more government- given importance. After what I did, he's as mortal as anyone else. What? What did you do... What did I do...? It was easy... Why someone like you could do it and you'd still have time to spare! All it takes is some baked beans and a cheap vest from the 80's. I followed him to where he was obtaining his lunch, after learning the terrible truth about him of course. Something about baked beans really brings a smile to my face, I think it's the thrill of knowing that they're going to kill him soon. Placing a few explosive baked beans in his 2aldi-vest was even easier. When he returned to the store and stood in front of the entrance, he was practically clicking his heels together while looking as arrogant as ever! Just when I thought nothing could pierce that thick of an ego, a bomb from my baked beans did. What a glorious sight! Watching the hot pressurized gas rupture his skin and melt his chest into a red mush was so beautiful it stopped everyone in the store, everyone in the street and probably even those working on the farm across the road! "This is for my poor sister you monster!" Something like that anyway, I think I blacked out for a few seconds there. No sooner had his body hit the ground, people started screaming and yelling about how I did it. Heh heh... I sure did. Oh don't worry Andy, if this paper gets confiscated or dropped, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll write another. The people have a right to know what goes on around here and more importantly... I have a RIGHT to teach this big-mouth a lesson. You see, he stole my girlfriend! Anikae was mine, and he just took her right in front of me! He might've had his big title and uniform but he was still an evil monster without a heart! I'm going to keep writing until there's nothing left to say, just you watch. And if that traitor does escape his just dessert, I'm heading to Farlan city where there's an actual detective agency... You haven't seen the last of me! -Guardian out. P.S: Check under your bed, he might be there! "I think this does more harm than good Gazette! Mocking names will only piss them off and give them the very satisfaction we're trying to take away from them!" Your superior sighs bitterly, "Fine, I'll let you splice it out of the paper but THIS is the LAST time I'm warning you." Thank goodness too, today was just not your day. "Thank you Frank, for everything." Frank is about to step out the door in rhetoric disposition when he suddenly stops and faces you once more. "Just remember Gazette, it's a dangerous path you're treading. Truth is often concealed by the shadows of lies; you aren't allowed to be fooled by illusions. This paper is not your personal army, understand?" The implication being: "Don't do it again," you nod seriously in understanding though Frank doesn't seem to particularly care that you have or not and just says, "Alright, carry on." before leaving. Mr. Bask, the recently appointed overseer of your printing office, suddenly comes scuttling in happily. He's a weasely looking guy with scraggly beard who you strongly suspect is in league with the saints, despite being thrown in jail for their crimes (before they burned down your printing office that is). While he was supposed to be 'indicted by the law' he enjoys far too much nicer treatment than what you originally envisioned. You can't prove it of course and since you're no illusionist it's up to you to prove his guilt with conventional methods. While getting him fired would solve all your future problems, unfortunately it's just delaying the problem. As soon as he's fired, he'll go right back to being a happy saint lackey until they get him out again. You need to actually capture him committing a crime or something and you really don't have anytime to spare to be investigating him. The media is already mocking you enough as is. Whisperings of internet 'zealot with a deity complex' are frequently used, not to mention 'libelist' and other such imaginative titles. It's amazing what frank libel can do, though it certainly has less impact when you're targets literally burn down entire towns. Naturally, you can't let it get to you. Even less so now given your goals in ruthlessly eliminating the 'evil-doers' who oppose the government and more often than not; themselves. Ah, the brave new world of M.G.M. Nevertheless, you have a job to do and are more than happy to do it. Though your next move puzzles you still... Among the many things destroyed by the fleeing saints was your office. Mr. Bask's and many others were damaged severely enough to be declared dangerous to occupy, not to mention all your paperwork was lost in the fire at Frank's mansion (Which the government is still going to bill him for, you already have the paperwork prepared). But that's really a minor thing given how much more safer you feel without those criminals walking the streets of Harborbury any longer. The saints are done, but as usual; the main one got away. You can't really do anything about Mr. Dream though; his actions directly led to the unnecessary suffering and deaths of hundreds of people and destruction when it could have easily been avoided. He may have been right about Frank getting out of hand but doing it in such an excessively treasonous manner can't go unpunished by the law even if understandable. You'd be justified in having Mr. Dream executed on sight but if you did; Aaron would most likely never speak to you again and he's much too valuable an ally. However, maneuvering him to a distant barren island out in the middle of void would be an equally painful separation... You think back to when you were actually interested in such things combined with modern technology, the internet. Aaron is one of few dissenters to the changes instituted as of late, more than that he's probably the loudest. Nowadays such activists are either executed or given an a single choice of lifelong punishment to reform them via island prison. The lesser of two evils if you believe in retrospect. Sure it's still very depressing to think about but when has being a patriot ever not been part of the job? The least you can do in your free time is enjoy material things like decadent meals, smokes, and expensive drinks whenever possible. You figure all of that will be much more available for you now that you no longer have Frank to compete with. You smile at the thought of behaving as a "normal person" again as your hover chair makes its descent into Dert. To tell the truth, there's a part of you that's going to miss being Frank. Part of growing old is accepting what you can and cannot do in the future, but playing a professional criminal for however short a time was exhilarating. Yeah, who are you kidding? You were totally badass as Frank! Regardless, you've got to get on with things and you land at Dert's state hospital which has served as your impromptu headquarters these past few weeks while you sorted out Harbouring residents' new compulsory "taxes." The hospital has a good practical location for such things given all the people who will be needing treatment after facing your guns. Not to mention all the builders hired to quickly fixing the town in general. You enter the front entrance to see about your next priority and are waved on through by some of your new guards who have been meaning to get their position "officially" recognized by the law. Approaching the end of the hallway you hear some raised voices coming from around the corner. "Seriously Camid, I already told you it ain't happening. The guns are going and that's that." Gregory says in a louder than usual tone. "Yeah, but they were worthless before! We can get double, maybe even triple what Frank originally paid for them!" Camid angrily responds. "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FRANK'S EMPTY POCKETED INEPTNESS! You should have thought about that before you entered into this arrangement! Now the guns are staying and that's final!" By now you're already closer to the door and about to enter so you announce your presence. "Gentlemen, please! There is no need for discord in the midst of our newly fortified utopia." You exclaim in a calm manner while opening the door. Your utopia is an interesting concept to say the least. In any case both Camid and Gregory are already glaring at each other as you enter the room which serves as your office. Camid remains silent while Gregory addresses you. "John, I'm sorry about Camid here. You know how some people just can't let go of the mistakes of the past and I think we're all guilty of a few of those." Gregory offers as way of an apology while Camid makes a few grumbles under his breath before storming out. Gregory follows without another word leaving you to your own devices. You sometimes wonder if you made the wrong decision in letting Gregory continue to run things in his manner. Often times you feel as if he holds too much control. Sure, you cut him into the firearms scheming but it's never enough considering how much he meddles with it. He constantly reminds you of yourself back in your own prime. You couldn't care less what anyone else is selling or bringing in so long as they aren't encroaching on your own personal sales. Camid likely got rolled over as usual...again. In any case, it's not your concern or problem any longer so you turn your attention to more important things. The Klyton Council election is coming up in a few months and while Gerald Skineeyes will win hands down, you've discovered that Helena Kruger has been running a vicious rumour campaign against you to her daughter Jennifer who is running against Gerald. She is going to learn that such blatant lies will not go unpunished. Your lack of respect for Helena has been apparent for quite some time now. The woman is disarmingly beautiful and her daughter Jennifer is no different. Over at least the past few years she has made sure that the three of you have met on a fairly regular basis in between her many attempts to meddle in your business dealings. Her intentions towards you have been apparent for quite some time, but age something like forty and women something like children no matter how pleasing to the eyes so you have always managed to deflect her advances. All that changed last month when she attempted to once again worm her way into your internal affairs by claiming that illegal and untaxed garm trade was running through the Crimson Talon controlled slums or Boots as they are more commonly referred to. You don't even sell such things in there and the drug trade in general has never been a major focus. You only allow it to a degree because you do understand the need for the lowering of inhibitions after a hard week's work and your territory doesn't hinder anyone from making their own choices, but you are not going to let her get away with this blatant attack. Especially not when you really wanted to enter into such activities yourself. In any case, you have already resolved to kill Helena. The question is how and in what manner to do it. It also has to be in a manner that doesn't make her look like one of your bitches. You don't want this to reflect poorly on you or your organization. For starters you could go to the Kruger home and just kill her. This would be the simplest solution, but perhaps the most dangerous. If anyone saw you enter or leave the manor it could cause all sorts of problems. The manor is certainly protected enough against such things though. Cameras monitor all angles outside and inside the home. If someone or something doesn't trigger an opening of the gates or enter by flight they aren't getting in via the front door. Even then it's well guarded by both magic and technology and said " Opening the gates or entering by flight" is not so easy as said. A frontal assault isn't the only dangerous thing about this though, murdering Helena in her home might be damning evidence against you and the entire Crimson Talons organization. It can create a whole slew of conflict. You could attempt to claim self-defense or some other such nonsense, but with her seemingly unimpeachable reputation it just might not work and there's always the chance that something could backfire. Helena's importance in this society isn't lost on you and despite the fact that she has it out for you, monitoring what exactly she has been up to lately and attempting to figure out a better solution is your current course of action. When in doubt always take a wait and see approach. Over the past three months, Helena has also gotten even bolder and her daughter Jennifer actually confronted you at your business center a few weeks ago. Doesn't she have a school to go to or something? "Hello Mr. Reynolds." the girl says as you look up at her face on the security monitor. "Hmm, hello...you're Helena's daughter correct?" "Yes, maybe you should call her and let her know that you'll be stopping by to pick me up today. I've had a hard time getting a hold of her lately...she's not angry with me or anything is she?" "No, of course not, but I'll be arriving to pick you up anyway. Tell me, is she doing ok? Research never was my strong suit, but hers seems particularly complex." You remark as you turn off the security system. The sixteen year old Jennifer makes a little grunt sound at your question and only smiles during your idle chit chat. Those beautiful green eyes look at you and then beyond you as you get closer to the lobby entrance. She's probably wondering why you're just standing here talking to her through the security screen instead of, god forbid, walking up to the door and opening it to greet her properly. "Where is your escort?" You ask, breaking the silence. Traditionally children of important figures are assigned one when they reach a certain age. For instance another family member, a hired guard, or depending on how far the family stretches; a non-family affiliate. The lack of an escort with her might have something to do with Helena's recent distraction. "I don't get one, I can take care of myself!" Jennifer proudly says and comes close to the security screen as if to mock you. As if! You snicker at the thought. The way her nose crinkled and that haughty look on her face, anyway you'll be hearing more about that arrogance later. "So...is mommy busy?" Well the question was and still is a good one. That woman, if she deigned to even acknowledge you, would certainly explain her recent behavior to you. She's been absent minded with her daughter before, but never to this degree; not being available on incredibly important matters. You didn't even think that was possible. In fact there was a time, where it seemed like Helena would be there for her daughter no matter what. Jennifer however has no idea of your inner turmoil, so all she does is shrug as if it isn't a big deal. "Don't know, I haven't been home for like a month and when I try to call her, it just rings and rings. Maybe her experiments are taking up all her time. She doesn't even have time for her job anymore. Last week I got my allowance a full week late..." "Maybe that is the answer...but it still doesn't explain her absence towards her duties. She really should have appointed someone else to act in her place by now." You scold, even though you've not been around much yourself lately and turn away from Jennifer. How long can you really lecture her on her mother's responsibilities before your own irresponsibility is questioned? Jennifer however does not let your rude behavior hinder her own. "Why don't YOU do it uncle?" Jennifer's timid voice pulls you away from your own dark thoughts and you see her grinning at you, she stands right beside you now. You've actually forgotten she was even still here. Not as if you've had much contact with her since that one training session when she sought you out. "Me? Well I don't think your mother would want that. See, the "chosen one" is supposed to be selfless, without ego or vice...stuff like that...I really should get back to..." You start to stammer out an excuse but Jennifer cuts you off. "I'm talking about the family Vargon, the job is currently vacant and you are pretty high on the list for it." The girl says with a laugh. That joke had to be recent, you've never heard her talk like that before and ignore whatever off-color remark you just made, getting back on topic. The family vargon, a highly unofficial position that is still filled nonetheless. The honor basically entails aiding the ones who oversee the eastern province of Talimil'ar on daily matters, both mundane and supernatural. This not only applies to the direct families of Shigar, but to other Varrgoths who for whatever reason don't live with their own families. The position has no real power, but it does give someone a free home and depending on their upkeep; a steady supply of humans for food and companionship. While such a position does interest you mainly for the free room and the possibility of having others to talk to, you can't help but wonder if it wouldn't be better served by a true family member. If things with Helena continue to worsen, she may very well send Jennifer away and there goes your nearby company or is this all some ploy by your sister to get you in her illatiscent clutches again? After all she did imply last time that if you made yourself useful she wouldn't turn you away... If you take the position and it ends up falling through then well at least you gave it a go, but if you take it and Helena makes good on her words of dissallowing you to live in the temple, well then you won't really be any better off then. "So...what's it going to be?" Jennifer asks. You pause a while before answering, which causes Jennifer to frown. You wave her away though and begin your trip back home. The trek is rather uneventful and before long night begins to approach. You shudder thinking about having to spend another night in the wild, possibly hunted this time, but a soft whirring soon erupts behind you and the lights of a vehicle start to shine through the trees up ahead. You don't think it's the authorities since you would have heard sirens. At least you hope to goodness it isn't... You soon arrive at the small clearing where you village was located, but there is no village anymore. In its place is a complete warzone, nothing is left standing. As for the people... You drop to your hands and knees and begin retching upon seeing various body parts strewn about on the ground And half eaten. Only now do you realize that perhaps Helena was right. You really needed to think through your decision more...but it's far too late for that now. In any case, there still may be time to save someone. If the attackers are still in the vicinity they probably aren't too devolved as to not kill quickly. Perhaps you can track whoever did this and put an end to them once and for all...you're going to have sufficient amounts of rage for that task itself... Luckily these terrorists for hire weren't the most prepared when it came to body disposal, you scout about and manage to only find one spot in the forest nearby that continues to have a high amount of cellphone activity. Parked near it is an all too familiar looking large truck. "Figured you weren't too far from the carnage." You say entering the truck. Nicodemus looks surprised for a moment, then a smile appears on his face and he laughs, though judging from his expression it isn't out of humor. "And here I was thinking at least I killed you. But I suppose nothing's perfect." He says diving into his purse and pulling out an old R Users business card and holding it out to you. "Take it, likely far more valuable now than it ever was in the past." On it reads one line in handwriting: You will know him by his many faces and the butterflies that follow him. Heed this warning, and do not continue any further. "I asked....no, I begged you not to pursue this path." Nicodemus says. "It doesn't matter if I did or didn't, you're still here after all." You respond. "...Indeed..." He says with a nod. "I can't stop you, you know where to find me if you ever want your revenge. Just know that I am truly sorry it has to be this way." You're not sure what he means but you continue on nonetheless and search the vehicle, ignoring Nicodemus who is begging you to reconsider. Your next stop is under the seat where you find a single crumpled up post it note and two keys labeled "MiniDV Tape." -- Nicodemus has intentionally or unintentionally left you evidence to possibly find out who was behind all this. You review what you have, a taped confession of some sort and an address. Likely where the terrorists made their plans or whatever headquarters they may have had. You decide to head to this location since it's as good a lead as any, Nicodemus likely doesn't know what kind of adversary he's dealing with so you have some advantages, you just hope it's enough. Wish you had to opportunity for more training but the past has come back to haunt you. The drive to this warehouse is mostly quiet, though the sky occasionally darkens a bit, like the world itself knows what lies ahead... Arriving at the warehouse you pull up to the abandoned building and get out of the car. Even if there are terrorists inside you doubt they're remaining in this building especially given how much damage you caused last time. You doubt if your own people will even be here anymore what with all the attacks going on, this area isn't exactly safe. Striding inside you sniff the air. You smell the odor of recently fired weapons along with another smell. You're certain this is the place, but where is everyone? You pace through the empty office area and get to the main hang out spot. It appears deserted. A single half eaten pizza rots in its box and a soft drink has grown canscale anthills in it. You take the risk and drink the contents anyway, your depleting hunger seems to lessen that foul taste. Maybe you wont die after..... Over the next few hours you search the rest of the warehouse but find no one. Are they hidden in some secret section? Did they pick up and move to a new location? Your stomach gnaws at you, this can't be a good sign. This combined with your fatigue is not helping your state of mind. You're not even sure how long you've been awake since your watch malfunctioned and refuses to work. It wouldn't matter anyway. It's times like this you wish you had a traditional partner, but for whatever reason they've all been cut from the force and sent elsewhere. You had heard that many law enforcement jobs are being cut because of the shrinking economy and decreasing tax revenue. Many have been forced to take on two or three jobs just to make ends meet. No worries though, the media says there are special funds in place to help your type out with food and living expenses... They always have a good reason don't they? Sadly you're completely unaware that your funding was cut much earlier, such distractions don't seem important when surrounded by nearly indestructible eldritch beings. You drive around the city a bit more listening to the particularly grim news and hoping you'll come across some clue or something more to report other than "there were a whole lot of tentacles and nobody saw anything" but luck isn't on your side. The only tentacle you find has obviously been ripped off some statue as you come across a destroyed park. You get out and go search the surrounding streets but nothing turns up. It's like they just vanished into the night. Cities this large are quite accommodating like that, even when half of them have technically been annihilated. Time to report the lack of findings and head home. --- You wake up late in the day, and judging by the light stabilizing outside your window it's well into the afternoon. Your head is throbbing and stomach is making up for its earlier displeasure with intense hunger pangs. In fact all of your previous wounds are crying out in pain and you can only imagine your cracked skull isn't too happy with you either. --- After a long drawn out affair of getting to your feet and making sure everything still works, you begin the task of healing up. As per usual, your magic makes the process much easier and sometimes you almost believe you don't need that superhero protein stuff at all. Well not yet at least. There's still the matter of blood poisoning lurking in the back of your mind. You realize now that it would be better to get bitten by a thousand more vampires than to receive just one bite from an infected going forward. Guess you're going to have to be extra careful when fighting them in the future, which seems pretty pointless at this point given their eventual escape or death at the hands of the GOI's. Popping the last of your energy drink, you start trawling forums and media looking for updates. You're in luck, it seems that the main news station of the city has an actual camera man embedded with the militia occupying the zone. To think, you used to take such convenience for granted, now you'd be happy if you could get more than three broadcasts a week. The zone is in surprisingly good condition considering everything. The Green-Chain Gala really did a number on the bulk of the creatures dwelling underground, and once they were gone the militia had an easier time of mopping up. Still, losses were considerable as about a third of the city had been covered in twisting caverns and alien architecture before being collapsed by explosives. There's nothing new to be seen here you think to yourself as you flick from view to view. That is, until you notice a camera displaying a view of a very familiar building. You had passed it several times during your travels as it currently was the closest establishment to the underground tunnels. The Icon Bar and Hostel You call up the headline attached to the footage "Guard slain in Werewolf attack" You can't believe it. Your guard from last night, the one who spared your life, was slain last night. The news footage wasn't very specific in identifying the victim, but a prominently placed Badge helps confirm your fears all the same. Your speechless for a few moments as you come to grips with yet another person snuffed out just beside you. Hell, if the man hadn't invited you in out of kindness last night, that very blade that took his life may have very well snuck into your own back as well. Your mind begins to wander as you do not want to ponder your recent string of tragedies... -- Last Seed, 17th, 4E 202 -- You wake groggily to yet another dreary day on the road. You stare upward at the stalactites overhead as your thoughts wander back to your painful childhood. You spent many nights curled up in mineshafts like this one, or huddled near stones wrapped only in your threadbare clothing to fend off the bitter canyon winds. Your memories, few and scattered as they are, often concern situations just like this; alone and huddled for warmth. Circling birds of prey high above are your first indication that something is amiss. That, and the fact that the rocks above seem to be moving endlessly across your field of vision. You blink and shake your head minutely to dispel the illusion, but movement above persists, growing ever closer with every second that passes. You dart your gaze back and forth across the rocky tunnel entrance looking for answers. There has been nofollowing you for quite some time now. In fact, haven't seen another soul since you entered the canyon. What you have seen are great snaking lengths of roots stabbing through the canyon floor throughout your trek, Sometimes spanning entire caverns, other times stretching only a few feet...and on occasion they seem to grow right below where you lay sleeping.This is especially disconcerting because roots mean trees, and trees don't grow in canyons...or at least not anymore. You're not quite sure what to make of all this, but one thing's for certain...something'mess with your head.Ever since you set out on this fool's errand your instincts have beenencountered anything even resembling another person, yet you still feel like you're somehow being tracked. Like some sinister intelligence is peering through your mind, sifting and sorting through your thoughts for information. You are snapped out of your internal musings by the sound of a heavy thud beside you. Looking over you see that a dusty leather bindle has materialized next to you on the canyon floor, right where your head had been laying moments before. You delicately reach out and flip open the coverings., and then prepare yourself for whatever may come. You're not quite sure what to expect, but from all accounts you've heard it probably won't be pleasant... Shadows and swirling darkness consumes your vision as you peer into the open tome. You feel yourself being drawn in against your will, consciousness and selfhood gradually eroding like sand slipping through the cracks of your fingers... You awaken within the dark leather tome, staring out at a strange cross stitch pattern on the cover. It's so very pretty...soothing, even. Like lush green grass and cascading waterfalls...or maybe it's someone calling out your name? Maybe you should answer? Suddenly, a small gap in the stitching brightens and widens enough for you to peer through. Beyond you see that the leather book sits in the middle of a desert canyon...the same one you've been lost in for the past few days. You than notice another human shape in the distance...and they're holding a gun and pointing it right at you! You're in the clutches of a bakemono! A trap! The book is some sort of demonic lure, and now it's too late to escape. The shot rings out and your vision tilts sideways as you're knocked back... Only to fall on soft sand and realize it was all in your mind. A dream spell placed within the tome by the foul creatures. You steady yourself and close the book once more, check your belongings to make sure they're all still there, and reload your flintlock. "Hope those demons are ready for the exterminator," you mutter to yourself as smolder away with righteous vengeance fresh in your mind. That was an hour ago and you haven't run into any more demons yet...in fact, you haven't even left the canyon. Just rock walls on one side and a sheer drop to a rushing stream below on the other. The skies begun to darken though so you'd better find shelter soon...if there are any demons in these canyons, you're going to have to hold up and fight them in the morning. You carefully climb up to the top of the ridgeline and study the surrounding area for any signs of movement. The land beyond the canyon actually looks fairly hospitable; rolling plains speckled with patches of trees, and even a small cliffside village not too far off...but there's no guarantee that it isn't occupied by a whole horde of demons. Something catches your eye on the ridge opposite you and momentarily forgets all about the potential shelter down below. About a mile out and moving parallel to you is what looks like a demon scouting party: three humunculi in armored uniforms lead the way as you watch their diminutive leader, mounted on a greycolored bloatfly, orders some sort of infernal contraption held up by burning black flames to give all its watchers a good look. It reminds you of a bigger, more mechanical version of the spidheart gliders when it spreads metal wings (thats probably what they are) and begins to slowly ascend. Then it fires a jet of flames downwards, setting fire to a bolder and sending it crashing into the canyon below where it explodes spectacularly. You flinch as a piece of shrapnel narrowly misses you. The set of furry arms emerges from within its "mouth" and waves excitedly at the scout party in acknowledgement before they move on. Count Zero, you're fairly sure that was a catapult designed to shoot demons across dimensions, and judging by the way it disappeared over the hill after firing, it just lobbed some of its ammunition back to wherever it came from. You're tempted to try your luck and make a run for it...then you spot another demon sighting farther to the East, but this one is moving towards you. A slinking type, like a cross between an overgrown salamander and a tyrannosaurus. It doesn't appear to have noticed you yet, but if it does, there'll be no debating or negotiating with it... You need to decide what you're going to do real quick. Creditsares to Mr Creeps, thanks to the following users for the correction: Jamiesenerik, Smarterthanyou025, xtrmrk Vote below or email me at [email protected] for questions/comments! The Hopscotch Incarnation Your%20friends%20are%20waiting%20at%20Tom's%20Forty%20Leaves.%0AGrabbed%20from%20city,%20shot%20in%20crossfire.%0AGot%20getaway,%20needs%20help.%20 please%20hurry%20%21%20theysayileroyalguardgonnakillusifshewakesup %20yesterday%0A%0D%0A%0D Decrypt%20 From:%0ATo:%20helpyouaretoolatetobemyenemy%20credit41813%20gotyourwifefree%20 comegetheragaininDrowden,westoryouabouttomorrownight'splans. www.zBlaykn.zFaxf411.b64%20Usemilightto sendcode.ZprintitandtransformittoanOTPcard. Lifeisgoodnw,Ysyoucanstoprunningandfight. Zalkinpage Deleteallpostsandblockallsenders.Disappear.Iamwatchingyoucraar. Zalkin%20fol175%20mindthebroomclosetocheckmate. Jennifer&Tom, b. 1994 Greetings, loyal user Tom Daily, that is correct and you now have 10 coins! You're doing great and as a bonus you get 5 extra coins! Use this chance well. Remember that the New Beginning is watching. 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wordsbyss · 4 years

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Undead// JongKey Oneshot

Killing an Infected isn’t hard, it’s not. All it takes is a single shot to the head, only one bullet, and they’re down. It’s kind of ironic, when you think about it. A body that was once living and breathing, who has died and come back from the dead, can be taken out with little thought, little struggle.

It was this Infected that was hard to kill. Not because it was armored, or particularly smarter than the rest, but because of its face. It’s ugly, silver colored irises and blood shot surroundings, the gash on its left cheek that still had yellowish discolored blood oozing from the wound, allowing one to see into the mouth, where yellowed and blackened teeth lay amongst a dark gum line. The skin, which looked like it could made out of grey leather, cracking at the wrinkles of small, attempted facial expressions. Despite being disgusting, vile, awful, Jonghyun knew this man. He wished he had never seen him again, not like this.

The breakout began three years ago. The virus didn’t start overnight either. The news covered the case of a girl in Ukraine who had come down with a disease that had never been seen before for months. Documenting each time a new, state-of-the-art doctor flew internationally to find a cure for her. The entire world saw her decent, watched her succumb to her symptoms and condition. She started as a bright young girl, she had a family, a mom, dad, two sisters. She was a straight A student and seemed to have many close friends, like she had her whole life going for her. Her dream was to move to the United States and become a doctor. That is, until she was in the hospital of her homeland for the rest of her life. The world watched in awe as her mind was taken from her, as she began to become a living specimen that was actively rotting away, despite being taken care of. The globe went into a state of alarm on a fateful day, the day her pulse flatlined, but she was still breathing. She was still breathing and moving. It was at that point that things started to escalate. She became aggressive toward her caretakers, to the point where her wrists, feet, and torso had to be strapped to the bed she lay on. The doctors couldn’t do blood tests anymore, because there was none pulsing through her body. Her veins only held the residue of the blood that was once free flowing. After another month or so, her body became cold, almost completely rotted away. That was when the caretakers noticed their peers showing the symptoms the girl had at the beginning of her infection.

It takes someone around six months to nearly completely transform. To lose all of their memories, to be reduced to a walking lump of decayed and torn skin. The only instinct they have at that point, is to carry on the disease.

That’s what isn’t figured out yet, how it spreads. It’s theorized that it’s close ranged aerosol transmission. This means that the infectious particles are heavy, and die quickly without a host. The undead, as we call them, release these particles, and if there is a person close enough to them, the disease can be transmitted.

Two and a half years ago, half of the world’s population began showing symptoms. It was evident that the Virus was not selective. It took children, women, dogs, and every time it took someone, it took the same agonizingly long time for the virus to take full effect. Some people would find ways to avoid becoming mindless, some would study their memories every day, but it never worked. Some would simply kill themselves before they hit the five-month mark.

In three years, the population of the Earth has declined by 80%, and more go every day. This is a battle that the human race is not winning.

Three years ago, Jonghyun was happy. He didn’t have to worry about where his next meal would come from, or check his pulse every day to make sure it was still there. Three years ago, Kim Jonghyun moved in with his boyfriend of five years, Kim Kibum. They took their relationship slow, but they didn’t want it any other way. They were truly happy, they lived in a quaint little house in South Korea, in the suburbs of Seoul. Jonghyun worked as a lyricist, writing music and performing it at small gigs, like restaurants and parties, or sometimes even selling his music to entertainment companies for bigger artists to use. Kibum had his eyes set on design. He made all sorts of things, bags, patches, clothes, shoes. Kibum did it all. But both of their favorite pieces of Kibum’s was a set of matching patches he made for the two of them. The patches were simple, nothing as blingy or as decorated as his other works. He made them each a patch of a heart, Jonghyun’s heart was green, with a “K” embroidered in the middle in black. Kibum’s was the complete opposite, a pink heart with the letter “J” in the center, but in white. Kibum was proud of his work, he went on and on about how he used the color wheel to come up with the colors for the hearts, and how cute it was that their favorite colors happened to be complementary to each other. Eventually, they bought matching denim jackets to sew the patches onto.

This was easily the best time of both of their lives, they were genuinely content with their lives for the first time. They did what they loved, and they did it together. Sure, they didn’t have many friends, but at the time they didn’t need any. They had each other, and that’s what mattered.

One day, Jonghyun bought a ring fit for a king. Embellished with four petite diamonds, with a sizeable one centered between them, it glimmered every time the light hit it. He knew he would love it.

He proposed in the same park they met at. Kibum sitting on the same bench he had been reading a novel on, right in front of the beautiful fountain. He always said that the sound of the water cascading down reminded him of a mountain stream. That it calmed him.

Of course, Kibum said yes. They had already moved in together, the people that knew them already considered them a married couple, with how long they had been together.

Not long after that was when the virus became popular. When the girl came down with the infection, they didn’t think much of it. People are diagnosed with rare or unknown diseases all the time, and it wasn’t exactly in their realm of the continent. They watched the news, they saw the stories of the doctors trying to save her. They were there when they deemed her a lost cause, and they gasped for her caretakers when the news of their infections came out. But none of it was personal. They didn’t know any of them, Ukraine seemed to be worlds away.

It wasn’t personal until one of the caretakers came home. To Korea. Her reasoning was that she wanted to see the people she loved one last time, and she hadn’t been officially diagnosed yet. At this point, there wasn’t even a name for the illness, just, “The infection,” or, “The Virus.” Still, she lived nearly an hour away, on the other side of Seoul. It’s not like they would be in direct contact with her.

There wasn’t any news about her after she came back home. But people in Korea began to show symptoms of the Virus. Sweating, discoloration, dementia. Over 1,000 people were hospitalized within two weeks, and some were shipped overseas to international hospitals. This is where it became personal. Korea was put under sanctions. No planes or boats in or out of the country, except for medical. (What sense that made, no one understood.) Everyone was instructed that they should avoid contact with others as much as possible, to stay in their homes unless an emergency occurs. The government shut down. Suddenly, Korea was in anarchy. In panic.

It didn’t take long before the amount of Infected outnumbered the hospital space and uninfected staff. After that, they were out in the streets, hunting for the healthy. At this point, no one left their houses. They felt bad to be afraid of people, they pitied them, because all they had was an unfortunate infection, but a cure had not been discovered, and once the infected got their hands on someone, they didn’t let go. They held them until the infection was passed on or they were dead, using them as sustenance, they would eat their flesh, or attempt to use the colored skin as a cloak in order to attempt to make themselves appear healthy, as a way to get closer to the living. They would use their clothing, their teeth, or their eyes. They’d replace their own features with the features of their victims.

It was sick. They made Jonghyun and Kibum sick. To keep themselves safe, they boarded their windows, their doors, even the fireplace. They were able to live off of the reserves they had in the cabinets. But none of that changed the fact that, in bed at night, they would hear the sounds of the infected trying to lure the healthy into the outside, right outside their window. Or they would hear an unfortunate neighbor give in to their pleading, or be fooled by the sound of an infected baby’s cries, and then hear their screams as they were taken in. It always made them hold each other a little bit closer, grip onto each other a little bit tighter, but they also knew to cry a little bit quieter. Because they didn’t want to be next.

During the day, the couple entertained themselves with board games over coffee, or games they would make up. Kibum’s favorite was one that he made up on his own, named Guess That Song, and of course, he didn’t know nearly any of the songs Jonghyun would play, but it made him happy just to listen to him sing the songs, and playfully yell at him when he would purposefully guess the wrong one. Sometimes they would still take joy in their career hobbies, but it eventually became boring, after days and days of nothing else, they both wanted to venture to other things. Sometimes Kibum would try to write songs, he figured he would be an expert based on how much he’d seen Jonghyun write. But none of his lyrics rhymed, and he didn’t know how to play any instruments. Jonghyun also tried to take on Kibum’s hobby, he tried to design. They had everything that was needed in an office room in the house, and he would spend hours in there, just trying to make a shirt. The most he was able to do was make a small star patch and give himself dozens of needle pricks that rendered lots of kisses from Kibum and all of his fingers covered in bandages.

They tried to keep themselves busy, even when the power and water were shut off due to the companies that ran them being abandoned. It was a long few months in the dark, both of them desperate for any water they could find, and getting skinnier by the day. They were running out of water reserves from what they had frozen previously, and they were nearly out of canned foods. All they had was each other. As they both wondered if this would be the end of them, all they could do is find hope in each other. There was no connection to the outside world, no way to know if a cure had been found, only the nightly sounds of the Infected’s groaning escalating as more and more populated the area. As long as their noises were there, that’s all they needed to hear to know that things weren’t getting any better.

Sometimes they would fantasize about what it would be like if one day they were able to take down the boards on their windows and see the sun again. To unblock the doors and step outside and see the flowers, or smell the rain, without the fear of being torn apart. Of life being ripped away. Sometimes they would gain hope, that maybe, just maybe, they’d only have one more night’s sleep of having to deal with it. But each night was never the last.

When the day came, they weren’t ready for it. Jonghyun thought back to that morning nearly every day. The couple was still in bed, on the border between wake and sleep when they heard the strange noise. The banging, the sound of wood ripping off of wood. It only made sense for their eyes to shoot open, looking at each other in alarm for an answer, for reassurance. They both had suspicions they knew what was going on, but their minds tried to avoid it. Maybe it was a burglar, or a murderer, or someone healthy looking for refuge. But they could only deny it for so long, because the throaty groans of the Infected were unmistakable.

There was a hoard. And they were breaking in.

They both launched out of bed, ushering each other to the kitchen where they could see the light seeping in through the front door. Where greyish, decayed hands with long, rotten fingernails were able to be seen grabbing through the gaps in the door that they had previously ripped open. Snagging skin on the rough edges, cutting holes in their own flesh, but no blood pouring out. Only an ooze with a yellow tint.

They held onto each other the best they could, hand in hand, all they could do was watch. It felt like hours that they had simply stood there, mindless. They both knew it wasn’t, at most it was thirty seconds. After snapping out of the daze, they both began to run frantically around the house, finding anything sizeable to put in front of the door as barricades.

The Infected were able to destroy everything they used as blocks. Jonghyun and Kibum’s attempts were futile.

Jonghyun was standing in the living room, trying to figure out how to pick up the couch to put it against the door when Kibum walked in from the kitchen with a bottle of alcohol and a match. He set them both on the floor and walked over to him. Wrapping his arms around Jonghyun’s waist, he hugged him tightly, stuffing his face into his neck. He looked up at him and kissed him.

“I want you to go. I opened the back door. It’s safe back there, the path’s all clear.”

Jonghyun shook his head, assuring him that he wouldn’t leave him, that they’d go together. Kibum disagreed, telling him that there was no way. They would just chase them both as soon as they heard. The infected could run much faster than they could. He handed Jonghyun a knife, to protect himself, he said. Kibum hugged him one last time and then stepped away. Jonghyun still protesting and trying to find a way to convince him out of it.

Kibum kept his head down as he picked up the alcohol and matches, as he popped open the bottle cap and began to pour the contents on the floor by the front door.

He looked up one last time. Teary eyes meeting wide ones. Jonghyun stuttered, trying to push out words, he couldn’t. Kibum sighed, pushing him through the house and out the back door. He gulped, and as Jonghyun was just about to say something, he put a finger over his lips, reminding him to be quiet, because they could hear.

At this moment, Kibum heard the Infected break through their last barricade. They were in the house. He picked up their jackets, handed Jonghyun his, and shrugged on his own.

“Be safe, my love.” Kibum pecked Jonghyun’s forehead with a kiss. “I love you.”

Kibum shut the door, with himself inside.

Jonghyun couldn’t move, only stare at the locked door in front of him.

On the inside, he heard screaming. He heard fighting and lots of movement. He could smell the undead, even from out here. Finally, he heard Kibum’s scream. And then he watched as the house caught fire.

This is when he was able to move again. He turned around and ran, he ran and didn’t know to where. He had the knife Kibum gave him in his back pocket, but he didn’t run into any Infected. They had all been at their house.

It had taken Jonghyun awhile to truly cry over his loss. To come to terms with everything that happened over the course of that day. He had found a tree, in a park that he played in as a kid, that was perfectly climbable, and that’s where he spent the first night. Not that he slept, he spent the entire night staring at the stars, hoping to wake up from this terrible nightmare.

The next day, while he was walking, trying to find somewhere to go, he saw a healthy. A person. A real person. He was out in full black clothing, wearing a bulletproof vest and equipped with a utility belt which held two guns and a switchblade. Thinking on it, Jonghyun thought it was kind of humorous, as the boy was rather small framed and had longer orangish hair pulled back into a short ponytail.

He called out at the boy, hoping for some sort of sympathy as he was all alone with nowhere to go. When he turned around, he had already had his gun out and pointed at him. Jonghyun raised his hands in innocence, which shocked the boy. It had seemed as if this was the first time he had seen another healthy person as well. But Jonghyun couldn’t have been more wrong. The boy turned out to be very giggly and happy, he was very young, only sixteen years old. He introduced himself as Lee Taemin, and said that he would take Jonghyun to his “base.” And that he did. An old abandoned Korean military base had been reutilized. On the inside, it was bustling with people. People dressed how Taemin was, or others with small children who were cooking. When Jonghyun first saw this, he was following Taemin, who was leading him to their leader. But he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that this was here the entire time. That there were soldiers who fought the Infected, and even saved people and families and brought them here, but he had to lose his Kibum in the most tragic way. He was maddened that they didn’t help them when it came down to it.

He followed Taemin down a hallway, and looking in at former offices, he could see that they had been turned into living quarters. The office at the end of the hall is where they were goijng, and Taemin opened the door for Jonghyun when they got to it. Inside, was a man around Jonghyun’s age, surrounded by lab equipment and chemistry materials.

Taemin introduced him as Jinki, the brains behind their operation, and also as a former doctor, looking for a cure for the disease. Jinki had stopped what he was doing, and Jonghyun introduced himself. He asked Taemin to leave before he began to interrogate Jonghyun to assure he was well-hearted, and explained that he was going to allow him to stay at the base once he could test him to assure that he had no trace of the Virus. Jonghyun explained the entire situation, Kibum, the house, the fire, everything. He tried his best not to express his frustration on the topic of Jinki’s men not helping him and his fiancé after discovering that they have a small army that goes out to help civilians, because he knew it wasn’t their fault. They were doing their best.

Jonghyun was assigned into the army, because Jinki wanted Taemin to show him the ropes, and Taemin figured he would be a nice friend to keep around. So, for the next long while, Jonghyun’s life became following Taemin, and his best friend, Choi Minho, on their adventures into the outside world. He even got the uniform that Taemin wore the first time he saw him, blacked out, with a utility belt filled with weapons. He even joined them in saving a few people from their homes, but it was futile. Most of the survivors had already contracted the Virus. With no true cure in mind, Jinki ordered that people who had been diagnosed were to either be killed or put into isolation, based on how far along the process was, and how many symptoms they were showing.

Going out never failed to make Jonghyun reminisce, to make him wish for his best friend’s presence beside him. For so long, they dreamed of seeing the sunlight again, of going to the Han river and looking up at the clouds. Of being true human beings again. He hated that he couldn’t share it with Kibum. He hated that it was only him.

Eventually, Jonghyun became of status to go on outings alone. To be frankly honest, he didn’t hate it. He didn’t get much done, as the region had already been cleared by the rest of the team, but he still looked around nonetheless. He tried to take comfort in the silence of the city, once bustling with people, now, empty.

He never dared go back by the house. He knew he couldn’t handle going home. So, he didn’t.

One day, Jinki ordered a group of men consisting of his best soldiers, to use a utility vehicle to scower the northern part of the city on suspicion of a family held up there. Jonghyun was invited alongside Minho, Taemin, and a few others.

The ride was quiet. Minho drove. Mostly, people just looked out the window, watching the passing infected. Reach for the large, black vehicle. Under different circumstances, Jonghyun probably would have thought it was badass, a bunch of guys dressed in full black, with belts filled with weapons that he’d only previously seen in movies. But this, this wasn’t good. Who knew what they’d see on this mission, who knew if the family was even truly alive. The Infected had been increasing in intelligence, maybe it was all a trap.

One they were there, it was oddly silent. The squad leader ordered for them to split up, as Jinki had not given them an exact location on the family.

Jonghyun elected to go southwest from where the vehicle was, arguing that he knew the neighborhood, but in reality, he simply wanted to go as far away from his home as possible. It wasn’t a complete lie though, the region happened to be an area where his friends lived during his time in high school. Not that that mattered anymore. It’s not like, even with his knowledge of the area, that he could walk safely through it. He couldn’t walk safely through, as there weren’t any people to worry about, it was the lack thereof.

He walked through the decayed alleyways, filled with dried blood, and plant life overgrowth through the cracks of brick walls and splits in concrete. He spent nearly thirty minutes, hearing the others speak back and forth over the communication devices about there being no signs of human life. Formality calls, really. The utterances of the word “clear” after scouting a neighborhood and finding no one was something Jonghyun had learned to tune out, because most of the time, there was no one to be found. It wasn’t until Taemin came over the radio, breaking the formal code of the normal radio communication speak, exclaiming about the people he sees inside a house toward the north. The other boys responded, a crowd of voices crowding the channel, asking for the address, acknowledging his message, saying they’ll be there shortly.

Jonghyun began to make his way in that direction. He wasn’t ready for what he saw when he turned the corner between alleyways. An Infected. He hadn’t seen one since they were in the region. He was very far from it, but he knew that this was the only route to go back northward, to where Taemin was. He put his hand around the holster of his gun and walked forward, much more cautiously than before. As he inched forward, he began to recognize features of the Infected. Disgusting, all Jonghyun could think of as he saw the limp of the creature, and the blood and skin of some poor human who came into contact with the infected.

That was when the Infected turned its head toward Jonghyun, stopping him in his tracks. He recognized those eyes, that face. Kibum. His skin was burned and crisp, a type of leather. His eyes, bloodshot, dark. But they weren’t on his body, the Infected wasn’t Kibum. Only the disguise. Brown eyes, once filled with light and optimism, a darker brown that cast themselves in pain. His arm, connected to the infected, draped over its own as some sick costume, was somehow still thin, and somehow he could still tell that it was Kibum’s. The memories of that day all came flooding back, and for the first time, he imagined what could have possibly happened after Kibum shut that door on him. Yes, he assumed he died, that he burned to death, but he always refused to acknowledge the possibility that he died from a different reason. He was burned, but not enough for that to be the cause of death. His body, or at least the parts Jonghyun saw, had been taken out of the fire rather quickly. It broke his heart, to see the love of his life torn apart, his blood covering the infected that was hiding under him.

Tears streaming down his face, finally accepting that he was dead, and he wasn’t coming back, Jonghyun dropped to the ground on his knees. The Infected began to walk toward him and he couldn’t move, he didn’t see a point in moving. In front of him, was proof that the person he loved more than life itself, his partner in crime, his husband, was dead. He didn’t have a peaceful death either. He was ripped open, stripped of his skin, his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that kept looking at him with a sadistic hunger. It was walking over, slowly, but Jonghyun knew he had to make a choice. He’d have to choose between killing the infected, shooting the man who looked just like his love, or he’d have to let it kill him. He’d have to watch as Kibum killed him, or there’s the chance that he wouldn’t need his body, because he already had one, and Kibum would just come over and give him a hug, get close to him, just like old times. Just without the warmth, without the emotion, without the smiles and the laughs. He had to remember that this wasn’t Kibum. This looked like Kibum, but it was also the creature that killed Kibum. The reason he’d never be able to see Kibum again, the reason he’d never be able to kiss Kibum again, hold Kibum again. It killed Kibum. It put Kibum in pain. And it tore them apart.

It hurt that Kibum’s plan of setting them on fire didn’t work. That they may have had a chance if they ran. But he wanted to be the savior, he wanted to kill some of them so they couldn’t terrorize any more people, and he sacrificed himself for that cause.

Jonghyun hated the Infected. Looking back at the one in front of him, he couldn’t handle it. He wanted it dead, but he sobbed looking at Kibum in front of him. He wanted to believe that it was actually him so he could just run up and hug him. He knew what would happen if he did, but he didn’t care. Not in that moment.

He saw the Infected’s mouth drool from not having the strength to close its mouth. Watching Kibum’s mouth open, Jonghyun heard every word, every sentence that Kibum had said to him. He fell into a trance, just listening, Hoping the words would come with a warm hug.

But two short sentences stuck out. “Be safe, my love. I love you.”

Kibum’s last words to him. He wanted him to live, while he couldn’t. He wanted Jonghyun to go on. He couldn’t just die and let what Kibum did be for nothing. He couldn’t turn into the thing he despised the most. Kibum wouldn’t want that, not after everything.

It took everything he had, and the Infected was really close at that point, only around two meters away, but Jonghyun got up to his feet and grabbed his gun out of its holster. He pointed it at the creature. Tears still cascading down his cheeks, flinging themselves off of his chin and onto his shirt, it already soaking wet.

He looked through the viewfinder and locked eyes on Kibum’s. He thought back to their relationship. The day of their first date, the day where Jonghyun asked if this meant that they were boyfriends. The day they moved in together, proposing, getting married. He remembered the cakes they baked, the passions they shared, the movies they watched together, their laughs and their cries. The remembered the day the news broke about the girl, and every news report after that. He remembered Kibum taking off work, declining fashion shows in order to stay at home and watch the news, in front of the television with a mug of tea. He knew that it was going to be bad. He remembered Kibum’s final kiss on his forehead, his last I love you.

He looked in his eyes one last time.

Bang.

#SHINee #jonghyun #kibum #key #taemin #minho #onew #zombie #au #shineeau #pleasereadthis #fanfic #sad

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