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alittlewhump · 3 years

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Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 4

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Content warnings: fantasy violence, death mention, fantasy religion

They had travelled for another half a day before reaching the remains of the little town. It had been thoroughly sacked, most of the buildings now just burned out husks. Blaise was staring down at the body of what had presumably been one of the inhabitants. Morgan could tell she was distressed, and she was also sending signals of anger. It was becoming apparent that anger was a standard underpinning of most of her other emotions. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides.

"He was just a kid."

Morgan didn't know how to respond. The boy had been prepubescent, the small size of his body accentuated by the large and ungainly prosthetic leg still partially attached under one knee. The forces of darkness did not discriminate, equitable in their ruthlessness. That would not be the correct thing to say right now. He ventured a soft "Yes," to which Blaise did not respond. He raised a hand, thinking to lay it on her shoulder in a gesture of sympathy he'd seen many times, but then let it fall back to his side. She would likely only take offense, not comfort, from that action. He didn't particularly like touching other people anyway, if it could be avoided.

Morgan squinted instead toward the ruined town, looking more with his mind than with his eyes. There were more like the boy, all adults but recently deceased, their bones partially scattered above the ground. It was most often undead that left their victims this way, torn asunder carelessly. They were slow enemies whose movements were easy to predict. Should be simple enough. Hopefully the scholar they sought had been fast enough to hide himself away or make an escape.

Morgan's skeletons turned in unison, raising their swords in challenge. He often relied on their perception to fill in the gaps where he wasn't paying attention. There was a yelp, and a small red demon scampered out from behind a ruined building. It didn't make it far. Before the skeletons had a chance to charge, Blaise had planted an arrow between its shoulders. Its dying cry echoed through the remnants of the town, prompting a rush of activity. It seemed a number of demons had settled in. The undead had simply been scavenging, then. That could complicate things.

Morgan urged his skeletons forward, taking a step back as he started on a clay golem. He'd managed to get the time down to about thirty seconds, but it was evident that wouldn't be fast enough for most combat situations. He would have to keep working at it.

Blaise was proving to be an extremely skilled archer. Her shots were both quick and accurate, devastating to the smaller demons. It wasn't just the imps, though; there was a group of larger demons as well, goatlike bipeds wielding wicked-looking glaives. They moved to flank the invading humans, but Morgan spotted the maneuver and commanded his minions to intercept the closest ones. Their awareness was reasonably comprehensive, but his own let him down. If the goatman behind him hadn't bleated as it raised its weapon to strike, it could easily have finished him with a single blow.

He twisted sideways, narrowly avoiding the strike. Drawing his sword was easier from the far hip after all. He plunged it blindly into the demon's middle before it had a chance to raise its weapon a second time. Accuracy wasn't paramount at the moment, just so long as he got the point far enough in and wrenched to the side with sufficient strength. He jumped back, avoiding the spray of viscera that followed his blade as the demon fell.

He should have been checking for other threats instead; if he had, he might have noticed the small one creeping up behind him, emboldened by the presence of the stronger demons. It swung its blade with a battle cry, slicing into the flesh of Morgan's thigh. He cried out in surprise and pain, lashing out with his shield to gain some distance. The demon was already backing off, its fit of courage fading. It was watching him so intently that it didn't notice the skeleton behind it. A single well-aimed thrust saw it fall with a gurgle.

Morgan pressed a hand to the cut on his leg. The blade hadn't severed anything crucial, but the pain would hamper his mobility and the wound was deep enough to warrant treatment. He ordered the skeleton closer as he felt around in the pouch on his belt, fingers seeking a familiar shape - there. He uncorked the small bottle with his teeth and downed its contents. The taste of the potion lingered on his tongue, but it was mildly sweet and herbaceous, not at all unpleasant. It would only be a few minutes before the injury was fully healed. It already felt a little better.

The few remaining demons had incapacitated the other skeleton but they were fleeing now, not that it was doing them much good in the face of Blaise's arrows. She was merciless and efficient. Morgan could see why Kashya had chosen her for the task. Something was amiss, though. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked around again, and his eyes fell on one of the deceased civilians. That was it - the body showed signs of undead interference, but they had slain only demons. The two types of creatures often coexisted peacefully, so it wasn't likely that one group had driven out the other.

"That's the last of them," Blaise announced, lowering her bow. "Now let's hope we can find this guy quickly so we can leave. I don't like this place."

"It looked like there would be undead, so be - oh, look there-" Something was stirring, far enough away that Morgan couldn't make out exactly what it was, but the movement wasn't promising. He pointed with his sword, his minions already on their way to investigate. Blaise nocked another arrow and raised her bow.

An enormous zombie staggered toward them. Had it been... hiding? Or just somehow unaware of the skirmish? It was surprisingly fast for its size. It was also unexpectedly strong, Morgan realized as it shattered the skeleton's skull with a single powerful strike. Blaise was on the retreat, peppering it with arrows that didn't seem to be having much effect. The clay golem made it stumble with a blow to its side, but it struck out in retaliation with such force that the construct crumbled to pieces. Morgan weighed his options quickly. It was too fast for another golem. A new skeleton might be fast enough, but it would only be able to serve as a momentary distraction. With his injured leg he wouldn't even be able to outrun this one if he fled, never mind what that might mean for Blaise. He had to find a way to separate the head from the body, or destroy the brain. Not ideal, given his limited physical capacity, but then again neither was dying.

Blaise called out, "Some support would be nice!" Yes, it - oh, she meant from him. The zombie was focused on her as the only aggressor. He did have the weaponry better suited to dispatch it, if only he could reach its head. He struck the hilt of his sword against his buckler and shouted, hoping the noise would get its attention. It did not. If it was going to ignore him, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Morgan darted in, intending to strike at the zombie's knees. Joints were always vulnerable, good targets for incapacitating an enemy. He was too slow - it finally turned toward him with a fierce swing of its arm. He managed to get his shield up in time, but the blow still lifted him off his feet. The uneven terrain and his injury made for a poor landing but an idea sparked as he stumbled, falling into a crouch with one hand braced on the ground.

He sent a tendril of magic shooting forth through the soil, just a small one for the sake of speed. If this didn't work, he might not have the time for a second try. The earth in front of the zombie rose up and curled back to cover its feet. It was not coordinated enough to avoid the crude trap. Morgan picked himself up as the undead fell to its knees, finally bringing its weak point within range. He quickly positioned the tip of his sword at the base of its skull and gave it a hard thrust, pushing with the force of both hands. There was a snap as the spine gave way, and the body collapsed.

That had felt a little too close for comfort. Morgan summoned another skeleton and sent it to scout for any more undead. Another surprise like that would be disastrous. If he kept a steady trickle of magic flowing between himself and the skeleton, he would be able to tell immediately if it had been damaged or destroyed.

"All right, now let's look for your man Deckard. Carefully. There had better not be any more of these big fuckers lurking around." Blaise nudged the body gingerly with her foot.

They moved through the town warily at first, growing more relaxed as it became apparent that they had fully cleared out its new inhabitants. A few of the buildings had cellars dug out beneath them, but they had all been empty. It was starting to look like there had been no survivors at all when Blaise spotted something.

"Wait, is that him?"

Morgan followed her gaze to a crudely constructed cage leaning up against a building. He had assumed the prone figure inside it, half hidden by rags, had been another body. But when he reached out, first with his mind alone and then with an extended arm to better direct the magic, there was no response - no bones he could use, unlike the rest of the unfortunate townsfolk.

"That one's not dead," he said, moving in closer. The pale figure was unconscious, yes, but still living. It looked like it might be an old man.

"How do you - ugh, I don't want to know, never mind." Blaise made it to him first, reaching through the bars of the cage to check for a pulse at the old man's throat. She must have found one, since her next move was to shake his shoulder gently.

He startled awake, eyes wide. "Back! Back, foul demons!" he cried out.

"Whoa, hey there, it's okay. Don't worry, my name is Blaise and I'm here to help you. The demons are gone. Are you all right? You hurt at all?" Her voice was reassuring, soothing. Her features had softened into an expression of genuine concern.

"You... oh, thank heavens! It's so good to see a friendly face. No, my dear, I'm a little worse for the wear but I'm not injured. I don't suppose you might have some water to share, would you? I'm absolutely parched."

Morgan had reached the cage by that time, and passed his waterskin through the bars. Blaise moved to examine the lock on the cage, giving it a very brief examination before fishing out two slender metal tools from her pack. "I'll have you out of there in no time," she reassured him as she began working at the lock.

The scouting skeleton hadn't encountered anything of note, but the earlier surprise was still troubling Morgan. He decided to raise another golem to join the perimeter guard, just to be on the safer side. To his surprise, the old man brightened as the shape began to take form.

"Ah, geomancy! It's been a rather long time since I've seen that particular school of magic. And so sombre, too - would I be right in guessing you to be followers of Rathma?" The old man pulled himself upright, leaning on the cage bars for support as the lock cracked open in Blaise's hands.

"Just me."

"Just him."

Blaise seemed surprised by their response in unison, but it didn't appear to faze the other man at all. "Well," he said, "whatever your origins, I'm grateful for the rescue. My name is Deckard Cain." That was excellent news. A stroke of luck that the sole survivor was the man they had been looking for. He kept talking as he stepped out of the cage. "When the demons descended, I was sure I was not long for this world. I can't imagine what possessed them to lock me up in there, but it certainly saved me from sharing a fate with everyone else here." He looked sadly at one of the human bodies, a woman who appeared to have died in the street, reaching toward the door of a house. "I only wish there was something I could have done to prevent this tragedy. These were good people. They didn't deserve this."

"I could give them their final rites," Morgan suggested. Nothing could undo what had happened, but at least the dead could be laid to rest properly. It might give some measure of comfort to the old man as well. All things considered, it felt like an acceptable delay.

Cain laid a hand on Morgan's shoulder. He flinched only slightly at the unexpected contact. "Thank you, friend. It is kind of you to offer, and I can think of no one better than a priest of Rathma to lay these people to rest."

Blaise coughed. "Are you sure about that? You... you know what they do with skeletons, right?"

"My dear, I assure you there are none more suited to care for the dead. I visited a temple of Rathma once for several months in my younger days, far to the southeast..."

Morgan half listened as he stowed his shield. It was a simple enough line to draw, though it seemed unlikely that Blaise would be interested in the particulars: bodies that had been consecrated, no matter the particulars of the faith that informed the process, felt different than ones that had not received that treatment. They were easy to sense and avoid, and besides that, they were considerably harder to raise. Powerful practitioners were capable of such feats, but despite their reputation, priests of their Order gave the dead every courtesy they would afford the living. It wasn't uncommon to meet resistance even in the dead that had passed on unremarked; in these cases, a necromancer could either leave the spirit be or pass it through the veil as they deemed appropriate. Morgan preferred the option of assisting with the passing on, though he hadn't ever personally had the opportunity. It felt like it would be better than just leaving them to linger.

The first stages of preparation for this particular ceremony didn't require much concentration, just some physical effort to collect and lay out the deceased. Including the boy from the outskirts of the town, there were six bodies to inter. There was a good spot near the central part of the town, likely once a market of some sort. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be rushing to rebuild the town any time soon, he reasoned.

"Excuse me, young man." Morgan stopped to look at Cain, who was wearing an apologetic smile. "I hate to be a bother, but..." He gestured toward the remains of the enormous zombie. "This gentleman is... or was, rather... Griswold, the town blacksmith. Stone deaf but a heart of gold in him. He did great things, in life. Is there any way you could include him as well?"

"Yes, of course." Morgan considered the body for a moment before calling his golem back over from where it had been patrolling the area. Even with its help, it was difficult to maneuver the corpse over to the others. But they managed eventually, making him the seventh in the line. Cain chattered on to Blaise the entire time, but clearly he was also paying some attention to Morgan.

"That's everyone," he confirmed before Morgan had even opened his mouth to ask. "It saddens me to see this lively town reduced to so little. Rest well, my friends."

That was a recognizable cue. Morgan began by consecrating the zombie, drawing a small phial of oil from his chest pocket and anointing its head and hands. The oil glowed faintly as he said a brief incantation, an ancient prayer. The first step completed, he switched to a different oil and drew a simple sigil on the forehead of each of the deceased. This anointment was to help guide the spirits up to Anu. As he recited the liturgy, he was surprised to hear Cain's voice joining his own during the repeated segments. He filed that away to consider later. Right now he needed to concentrate.

Seven was a lot of bodies to inter, but if he let the constructs fall and paced himself he could probably manage. He knelt by Griswold and touched the earth. Carefully, slowly, it parted beneath the giant of a man. Once the body was several feet deep, the dirt filled in on top of him, leaving a small mound on the surface. The effort left him slightly winded. It had been a good idea to start with the largest. The next two were easier, but the cumulative strain was growing faster than he'd anticipated. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead and he'd lost his breath again. Better to pause now than to have to stop in the middle of an interment, he decided.

He took a small bottle from his belt, uncorked it and tossed back the bitter bluish liquid in one motion, kneeling again before the dizziness set in. The familiar buzz of magical energy crackled through him. It itched under his skin. He would have preferred to rest instead of taking the potion, but interrupting the ceremony was not an option. The whole point was to respectfully lay them to rest; stopping for a break would have felt disrespectful. He had to press on.

Despite his measured approach, Morgan was trembling with exhaustion by the time the last body was safely entombed. Seven had turned out to be too many. The potion had helped, but its borrowed energy left as suddenly as it came, and the body shakes it left in its wake were uncomfortable. He fell into a cross-legged position, elbows braced on his knees, head hanging as his chest heaved. Meditation wasn't going to cut it after this. He was going to need real sleep. Still, it was satisfying to feel he'd done a good job of the burial ceremony. He was also grateful that Blaise had elected to keep watch during the proceedings. He'd been forced to abandon his minions to save energy. Had he been alone, safety would have been a serious concern.

Blaise cleared her throat. "Not to kill the moment or anything, but we need to start going before it gets dark. It's a long way back to the Sisterhood."

"Perhaps I can help with that," Cain said. Morgan raised his head to see him produce a small scroll from the pockets of his robe. "This is a scroll of town portal. Have you ever used one before?" Blaise shook her head. "Oh, it's very simple. You just need to picture a place in your head as you read it, and it will open a portal to that place. It only works for human settlements, and the place has to be within a certain distance. But if your description is accurate, as I'm sure it is, the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye should meet those requirements." He held the scroll out for Blaise to take. "I must admit I've never visited, so I can't use this to get to our destination."

Blaise took the scroll and opened it, peering at its contents. Nothing happened. She turned it sideways, then upside down. No portal materialized. She looked up at Cain. "Am I missing something here? I thought this was supposed to be easy."

He frowned. "It should be. Let me look - no, no, the scroll is in order. It should work for you if you're following the instructions. Unless - well, there are a few reasons it might not be working. It could be a matter of lineage, for instance. Were your parents both human?"

Blaise stared at him as though he'd just grown another head. "What else would they be?"

"I've used those scrolls before," Morgan said, rising unsteadily to his feet. He had used the portals fairly regularly, running errands during his training. A throbbing ache was building behind his eyes, and he wanted very much to rest. He was seriously considering curling up in one of the ruined buildings at this point. But that wouldn't take the other people into consideration. Assuming the portal scroll worked, it would be the best course of action to take.

Blaise held it at arm's length. "If you can make it work, go ahead. But if not, we start walking."

Morgan took the scroll, scanning the familiar runes. It wasn't reading, exactly, but they started to glow all the same. He thought about the rogue encampment, focusing on the spot just outside the gates where he'd first waited for Blaise. A shimmering blue circle materialized in front of him, the image of the camp faintly distinguishable in its centre. It stretched until it was big enough to walk through. No problem with the scroll, then.

"Magnificent!" Cain clasped his hands together. "It will be wonderful to be amongst people again. Please, after you."

Morgan would have preferred not to be the first one out of the portal, but Blaise wasn't moving to enter and he didn't have the energy to try to sway her. He stepped into the portal. It was like walking down a short hallway, the distance to the destination collapsed into a few steps. As he stepped out of the portal, he found a sword pointed at his face. His hands came up automatically in a gesture of surrender. Of course the rogues would be suspicious if they weren't accustomed to using this type of magic. That was precisely why he hadn't wanted to lead.

"Oh, it's you." Kashya lowered her sword. "Where's Blaise? Did you find Deckard Cain?"

"They are following," he said, letting his hands fall as he stepped to the side of the portal. He hoped they were following. He was too tired to explain if they weren't.

Sure enough, Cain emerged a few seconds later, peering around. "So this is the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye! I've heard much about you. I wonder if you would indulge an old man's curiosity. I have some questions for you..." He had honed in on Akara without hesitation, taking her by the arm. She appeared surprisingly amenable; something about him seemed to put people at ease.

Blaise came through shortly after, straightening when she spotted Kashya. "Ma'am."

"Give me a full report."

The commander turned on her heel, going back into the encampment, and Blaise followed her. Good. That meant nobody wanted to talk to Morgan, and he could get some rest. He tore the scroll in half, disrupting the magic holding the portal open. Only living humans could use these portals, but it still felt safer to close it behind him. Unlike the others, he did not enter the encampment. Now was not the time to solicit an invitation. He'd noted a large, sturdy willow tree outside the northern corner of the rogues' camp. He dragged his weary body over to it, nestled in against its trunk, and promptly lost consciousness.

#my writing #story: unbidden #fantasy violence tw #death mention tw #fantasy religion tw

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yfere · 5 years

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Shipping Calculus! Live Updates from C2E60

Hello, and welcome to episode 60, otherwise known as THE RISE OF YASHA SHIPPING. We’ve been waiting and waiting for it, and here it fucking is!! Masterpost here

+15 to Fjord/Jester as they gain many Flirting Points with cute little “Heys” at each other in combat, profferings of healing potions, that weird slightly in canon liminal area of drink sharing, winking madness, Fjord dedicating the dead jellyfish to Jester like he’s some kinda knight (+3 to Beau/Cockblocking for pointing out the disturbing murder of what was once a romantic Fjorester symbol). Jester asking Fjord if he’s okay and checking him for possession (Bonus points for Body Contact!) Points taken away for Fjord griping about Jester/Pets, saying “It’s not your pet, Jester!” while Jester shouts back that she doesn’t even like it, thank you, she likes animals but she’s not going to go gaga over a murder demon you absolute asshole.

+9 to Caleb/Caduceus as Caduceus continues his trend of enthusiastically supporting Caleb decisions that the rest of the party very much do not enthusiastically support. “Good call!” he says when Caleb goes to burn the bodies in the Bone Pit as an anti-jellyfish precaution. Totally down with Caleb murdering creatures down there as there’s “not anything good that’s living down there” and along with Yasha joining the Pro Caleb NPC Murder Club. Caleb very nearly setting Caduceus on fire as well but avoiding it through the power of luck love, being adorably distressed that Caduceus might have been hurt, relieved when he’s fine.

+6 to Caduceus/Fjord as Caduceus encourages Fjord to “Stick by me, and you’ll be fine.” Looking after Fjord’s welfare by encouraging him to stay in the Hut, and acting as dedicated translator for all of Fjord’s ridiculously curious needs. The pair of them same-hatting on asking every single person they happen to meet if they know of any answers to their god problems. Points taken away for Caduceus’ short term memory failing to recall the second of Fjord’s questions as he gets distracted asking about the Blooming Grove.

+32 to Yasha/Jester. Okay. Okay. So, trying to cooperate over turtle flipping: good. But the real thing. The real thing is. During Yasha’s first dream, Jester is the first body she sees after Mollymauk’s, the first and most important after him of the “somebody you’ve let in.” The only person she’s really willing to speak to after she wakes, despite her discomfort. The first person whose strength she thinks of when trying to break her shackles. The one she listens to, over Caduceus, when it comes to how to approach her god—to just try to talk to him, bring Jester and her friends along. The one she models when she tries to connect to the Stormlord—drawing a dick in the mud because if nothing else works, this has to, this is Jester. Jester being the most sweetly supportive of Yasha after her dream, even while Nott minimizes and Caduceus godsplains. Jester fucking….sleeping in the rain with Nott so that Yasha won’t be alone, enduring ridiculous amounts of discomfort and lost sleep just to be there for her. They are…..love. This is…..the true birth of Jestasha.

+1 to Beau/Yasha as Beau accomplishes an epic battle move by sliding between Yasha’s legs (just not in the way she was hoping). Looking piningly at Yasha’s sleeping face. But, as has been decreed by the Shipping Gods they are two ships passing in the night, destined never to meet.

-10 to Yasha/Nott. Nott initiates cuddles, but Yasha is uncomfortable.

+17 to Fjord/Caleb as Caleb tries his damned hardest to use his spellwork to protect Fjord—and failing. But it leads to Body Contact nonetheless, and a terribly sweet “sorry, big guy” which only means more with every NPC under the sun (looking at you, Soorna) continuing to poke at Fjord by calling him “small.” More Body Contact with Caleb switching over to Fjord as his chosen squeeze while looking through Frumpkin. As with Jester and the jellyfish, Fjord looking towards Caleb to check if he’s noticing him Being Cool with the three point landing (Do I spy +1 to Caleb/Fjord/Jester?) Fjord as always putting way too much stock in Caleb knowing everything, all “Caleb, think of every blue fabric you’ve ever seen” as he attempts to CSI the riftmaking device. Fjord also as always being Caleb’s #1 Magic Fan, going absolutely NUTS when Caleb polymorphs the giant, ruffling his hair and screaming “YOU BEAUTIFUL WIZARD BASTARD” and probably coming close to fucking breaking the wizards’ concentration in the process. Points taken away as Fjord realizes just how scary the turtle still is and how this horrible snapping thing may still cleave him in half. But at the rate Fjord is escalating the Magic Love, you just know eventually Caleb is going to cast a spell and Fjord is going to get so excited he kisses the wizard.

+5 to Caleb/Being a Trendsetter as comically exaggerated pronunciations of Eldritch bleeeeeeeeehst are now officially the standard for all members of the party.

+10 to Travis/Dice Superstition as he picks new dice after rolling ones, runs dice competitions to decide which is worthy to play with, and Very Superstitiously dreading a 666 of failed wisdom saves from Fjord, Beau, and Caleb.

+10 to Caduceus/Excitement. “There’s something in the pit.” His head lowers and his hands shake when he gets stressed, but bless him his voice is as calming and monotone as ever.

-100 to Fjord/That Spoopy Shit as he spends most of the battle screaming his (average sized, thank you) lungs out

+2 to Caleb/Cat Shaped Creatures at Cat’s Ire was finally allowed to do its killing work!

+20 to Jester/Beau as Jester gives Beau a 7 for the holy hell she causes with her punching! To which Beau gives a funny little bow. But most, most importantly, Jester noticing Beau staying up reading and worrying to death, giving her a massage and Body Contact to calm down and sleep #TheyAreMarried and fuck Travis/Fjord’s Attempted Cockblocking because that was the most transparently and extremely romantic moment in the entire goddamn episode. Points taken away for Jester saying Beau’s drawing looks “kind of shit.” Maybe now that she’s granted permission for Beau to draw dicks she’s concerned Beau will start infringing on her Territory as the resident artist.

-1 to Nott/Detective Work. She did find the riftmaking device, but unfortunately it was circumstance that brought her back to the Bone Pit, and not her Keen Detective Mind remembering at that moment to investigate the area as Soorna’s stated origin of the demons and a trash bin’s status as an Excellent Hiding Place. More points taken away for Destroying Evidence when she shot the device and scattered the liquid inside to be lost forever.+12 to Nott/Gunslinging though.

+1 to Fjord/Detective Work as he continues to bargain and push for important information about the way the world works and what is happening from the people he encounters—gaining Soorna’s story in exchange for their efforts. He didn’t gain information immediately relevant to the Case, but it is good Detective Practice nonetheless

+5 to Beau/Detective Work as she finds the scrap of fabric in the Riftmaking Device—a solid Clue! Genuinely looking for links between the riftmaking device and her own vestments, comparing notes, looking for the black liquid and brainstorming with Caleb over potential motivations for creating Abyssal rifts. Points taken away for misidentifying beds as sarcophagi, which sort of casts a pall over her detectiving skills.

+20 to Beau/Nerdom for being more interested in explaining books and theorizing to Caleb than actually fighting. It is something when you can stand next to Caleb and make him look like a jock in comparison to your nerdy antics. Never change, Beau.

+6 to Caleb/Lethality as unfortunately he has murder on the brain so much that even when he’s not trying to make things deadly, he still manages to incinerate a poor innocent little goblin, barely skirt blowing up Caduceus, and morph what he meant to be a harmless turtle into a killing machine.

-2 to Caleb/Jester. Caleb is a fan of Jester’s smart idea with the Tiny Hut. But between accusations of criminality and Jester’s extreme distress over Caleb’s Goblin Roasting, ‘twas not the best week for these two.

+2 to Nott/Jester. Beau may have gotten a 7 for battle maneuvers, but Jester gives Nott 8 points!!! Nott cuddling with Jester at night, waking with her to reassure Yasha. There’s the sense Nott went out into the miserable rain maybe a little more to spend time with Jester than anything else.

+12 to Nott/Being a Team Player as she throws herself into harm’s way to defend Fjord from Caleb’s horribly botched polymorph! She is too small to be much defense but damn if she’s not going to try!

-3 to Nott/Fantasy Racism as despite her conflicted feelings over goblins she attempts to respectfully lay Caleb’s murder victim to rest. +10 to Caduceus/Cockblocking for undermining the moment by sticking the whole goddamn corpse in his bag so he can question it in the morning

+5 to Caleb/Kooky Comparisons as he compares farming the Beacon for Luck potions to getting eggs from the golden goose. Caleb thinks almost entirely in terms of fairy tales and farming/peasant idioms, and one of these days someone needs to collect all of the little oddball things he says.

+50 to Kord/Midwifery “STRUGGLE. PUSH. STRUGGLE. PUSH.” Rhythmic, firm, supportive but also tough, which is exactly the kind of midwife you want during your existential rebirth.

#critical role #cr spoilers #jestasha #fjorester #widofjord #clayleb #widojest #widofjorester #nott the best detective agency #fjorclay #beauyasha #shipping calculus #lavorregard #beaujester

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flopgoblins · 5 years

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Ocelot Emperor

We emerge from the mists of Ireland - where we’re on retreat with next to no internet - to lay this offering at the feet of one of our favorite people and wish her a very happy birthday! @brazenbells we love you, thank you for two consecutive years of helping us write our boys, and for letting us throw them at your own.

Without further ado, the crossover smash the fans (us, mostly) have been clamoring for! Thanks, Ted.

King Abran's throne was as vast and glorious as his kingdom. Made of teak, varnished until the wood seemed to glow with an inner fire, inlaid with gold and etched with scenes from myth and legend and the founding of his dynasty.

And upon it, his wrists heavy with bangles, his fingers dripping rings, his eyes dark with kohl, lounged the crown prince, golden and glorious as a lion at rest. His eyes were lion-tawny too, and his neck was straight and proud, easily bearing the weight of the shining crown that rested upon his brow.

“See,” said Matt, angling his phone so Nico could get a better look at himself. “You look way better in all this sparkly shit than I do.”

Nico slid off the throne with a gentle chinking and untangled the gold-ish polymer crown from his hair. Beneath the gilt, it was dark brown, but for the stark white streak Makeup had sprayed there two hours ago. “Yeah, the casting choices feel a little strange. I can see why everyone on Twitter was pulling up those fanart comps to complain about it. Still not as bad as the, uh - ”

“I know,” Matt said morosely, taking the crown back and putting it on wonky. “I don’t even tan.” They’d dyed his hair again but thankfully drawn the line at trying to make him any less pasty. Manufacturing sexual tension with someone who looks like a stretched out Oompa Loompa might be beyond even Nico’s prodigious talents.

“I’m billed above you though. That’s progress.” Nico tried to get the crown to sit right but succeeded in tilting it drunkenly to the other side. “And, hey, it’s not every day you get a big-budget fantasy epic with a queer romance.”

“They cut out the incest. And most of the sex.” Around them, the studio walls yawned tall and green; the only solid things onset were them and the throne, and the throne was mostly resin.

“There wasn’t that much sex in the book,” said Nico, who’d picked up the novel as soon as the casting call went out and gone through making characterization notes on every page.

Matt, who’d read the first draft as it was posted on AO3, complete with thirteen chapters of kink that hadn’t made it into the published version, sniffed and forbore from commenting. Some hauteur was probably in keeping with playing Gael anyway. More in keeping with Tigris, though, which was further evidence Ted Nord couldn’t cast to save his life.

“I mean, I love it, it’s a really interesting role, but I’m finding it hard to get to grips with,” Nico had said, on the first day of shooting. “Spending your whole life pretending to be being vain and shallow, because it’s not safe to be anything else. Wearing a mask so long you must start to wonder whether you’ve become it. What does that do to a person?”

“Dunno,” Matt had said. “Did you see Ray Lelacheur’s Vogue cover yet? Terrible shoes.”

Now that Nico had abandoned the regal warmth that had settled on him as if it was second nature while draped over the throne, he was stirring the pages of the script again, frowning at his lines. Tigris had been the most he’d had to stretch for a character to date, he’d told Matt, though he’d earnestly added he liked the character’s ‘chewiness.’

Matt, who’d struggled equally hard to locate the generosity of spirit and ease of power that was Gael, continued to think that Ted was just as bad at casting to type as he was to aesthetic.

Nico tossed his white-streaked hair back from his forehead and dragged on his black velvet cloak. “Will you run this scene again with me? I keep not getting the timbre of his ambition right.” He mouthed a few lines, twisted a green gemstone on his finger, and cast an agonized, kohl-rimmed look at Matt. “How do I channel the appropriate volume of petulance, the feeling of a man deprived what by all rights should be his?”

Matt draped himself over his rightful throne, trying to arrange his limbs with the same boneless grace Nico had achieved so easily. “Remember when we were at that falafel truck last week and it took twenty minutes for your order to come and you started cursing god?”

“Suck my dick, Rose,” said Nico reflexively, but looked thoughtful.

“Later,” murmured Matt, and closed his eyes to wait.

“Spy,” snarled the prince, rounding on his cousin. Tigris stood his ground, jaw set against the taller man’s fury, lip curling with defiant derision. “You intrude here, in my father’s house, not content to be left to your life of indulgent luxury, so desperate for attention -”

Tigris’s eyes flashed, enraged despite himself. “Attention? You think that is what I crave? Heavens forbid I seek a world beyond the gilded cage my uncle keeps me in, indulging me like a spoilt puppy and giving me just as much freedom. Attention? I would give my eyeteeth for less! If one could trade condescending oversight for actual knowledge of how our kingdom is run-”

“Our kingdom,” repeated Gael. He cocked his head to the side, curiosity warring with the outrage in his noble features. “You truly think it so, do you? But our father-”

“Uncle,” said Tigris, under his breath.

“Our uncle -”

“My uncle,” said Tigris helpfully. “Your father.”

“My - okay, your -” Matt stopped. “Gawd. This doesn’t work at all.”

“See? It doesn’t work half as well without the incest.” Nico flicked a gem-encrusted finger at Matt’s nose.

Matt wrinkled it and adjusted the hang of gold chains over his collarbones. “You say this like I’m the one who made the script changes. And for the record, Cindy was as cut up about it as you are.” Cindy, script doctor extraordinaire, had also lurked the story on AO3 as it sailed up the ‘Original Fiction’ rankings, and was as distressed as he was about the loss of the throne sex scene. “It’s not my fault transgressive familial kink hasn’t crossed over from the hets yet.”

“Kink shmink, it totally shifts the dynamic.” Nico flapped his cloak emphatically. “Adopted cousins isn’t close to the same sort of layers of resentment and entitlement being a bastard half-brother would be.”

“Right,” said Matt, who’d definitely only re-read chapter 12 seven times for the entitlement, and not the way Tigris hissed ‘brother’ while bound to a bedpost. “The morality groups would lose their shit, though. Probably it was the right call.” It was impressive enough his agency had let him sign the role at all; he’d already rocked the boat enough asking if his casting was whitewashing.

“The morality groups are gonna lose their shit over the gay factor anyway,” said Nico stubbornly. “In for a penny...”

“What about the negative associations of homosexuality with sexual taboos?”

“What about double standards?”

“Sure, it’s a double standard and it sucks, but you gotta start somewhere. It’s a story about being an outcast and fighting for scraps of dignity, fighting to be seen as human by people who want you to be less than that, and that’s gonna resonate with a lot of kids. You gotta lay the groundwork then fuck your brother.”

Nico raised an eyebrow and Matt shut up quickly; he, or rather his agency, had made a point of never letting him be drawn into these kinds of debates. “And I think compromise robs art of its power. What does the author think?” They both glanced across the set to where a woman in a peacock-print dress watched as Ted struggled to coral the child actors for the carnival scene. Her expression, behind her glasses, was unreadable.

“Dunno.” Matt ran his hand through his hair. The dye had dried it out and he winced at the brittle, dead-grass feel of it. “Only time we spoke, we both tried to get each other’s autographs and it was really awkward. Bet she’d have some notes for you, though.”

“D’you know, Rose, that’s not a bad idea.” Once resolved, Nico was all action and he stood, script pages fluttering to the floor, velvet cloak swirling around his ankles. The jut of his jaw said that nothing short of poor falafel truck service would defeat him.

“Ask her to show you the predicament bondage scene,” Matt told him helpfully. “There were some really important character beats in that, I thought.”

“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?”

“What?” Matt looked up, taken completely off guard. He was stretched out in Nico’s window seat, deeply absorbed in a thinkpiece on why Kai Bourke would have been a better casting choice for Gael, and thoroughly agreeing with it. Seeing his boyfriend prowling towards him with a look of cold fury and a bare chest was enough to stop him mid-anonymous comment.

Nico stalked across the room towards him, the taut anger etched in every muscle creating a frayed grace that was almost violence. “That’s the worst of you, your highness. It’s not that you hate me. It’s not that you think less of me. It’s that you think nothing of me at all!”

Finally cottoning on, Matt swung his legs around and tried to remember his lines; it was hard, he truly couldn’t remember what part of the script this was. That in itself was unusual. Matt would hardly claim himself a natural thespian or even a diligent professional, but memorizing lines had been a skill drilled into him since he was eight years old and it was a tough habit to shake. Still, while Nico’s words - Tigris’s words - sounded vaguely familiar, he couldn’t for the life of him place them in Ted and Cindy’s script.

“But I’m going to make certain you don’t forget me, brother,” whispered Nico, and that was just it, Matt realized. It wasn’t the script at all. It wasn’t even the book. It was the original.

“You read it?” he mouthed, as Nico’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Shocked to learn I’m literate?” spat Nico, but favored him with the shadow of a wink. No shadow around his eyes this time, no gold woven into his hair, but he was more Tigris than he’d been on the soundstage.

It was, simultaneously, extremely Nico.

Matt tried, experimentally, to free his wrist and found he couldn’t. He shivered, feeling his pulse jump, knowing Nico could feel it too. “Was that an attempt to dig deeper into the artistic truth of the work, or to mine it for weird, kinky shit?”

“Yes,” said Nico, bearing him down onto the cushions, beautiful and vengeful and careful not to knock Matt’s laptop off the seat.

One of the advantages of shooting a gay film with your boyfriend - one Arose had certainly never intended - was that when Nico turned, grabbed Matt by the lapels, and kissed him on the red carpet, everyone laughed and smiled and Matt knew the gossip mag headlines would be jokes about dedication to the craft and not shock sexuality scandals. His father probably wouldn’t- okay he’d definitely mind but it’d probably be a side note in a meeting about how to capitalize on the film’s success.

And it was a success; some desperately hot sex aside, reading the story - the real story - had apparently been what Nico had needed to pull it together. All the pride and fear and desperate clawing longing of a tiger caged that had risen like a heat haze from Tigris’s story, and Nico had captured it, had reveled in it, and put it on the screen for all to see.

Matt straightened his tie and winked to the paps - just a joke between bros, nothing queer here - and resolved to fuck Nico senseless in the restrooms after the premier. Nico laughed and stuck his tongue out. He’d left the white streak in his hair for the red carpet, as stark as the collar of his suit, and Matt had to say, it was growing on him.

#tiger prince #brazenbells #star boys #incest mention #HAPPY BIRTHDAY KELSI WE LOVE YOU

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osmw1 · 6 years

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Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 18

As we self-manage and discuss of how to apply ourselves the best, we reach the second floor of the dungeon.

The ambiance feels different. It feels like my surroundings changed from stone-built to a natural cave. Moreover, the miasma is definitely denser down here. This air is clean and fresh, straight from Mother Nature! is what I’d say. But for your average Joe, it’s more than likely to be suffocating. It doesn’t seem like many people come here to this dungeon. Knowing they’d be forced to fight in an environment like this, adventurers wouldn’t come here either. It also looks like there’s many places you could get ambushed from too.

As well, there are monsters standing guard at the entrance to the second floor. Monsters named Claret Sunflower are wriggling its roots and moving about. With their leaves, they hold spears that looks like they’re made from stems of a plant.

‘Aye… it is a well-known monster. It might have only recently made this dungeon home.’

Are we gonna be okay?

‘If you pay attention to the movement of the minions, you should have control over most of the situation. Its command and management seem to be lacking. They cooperate better when closer to their stronghold, but on the upper floors, the small fry do not pay much attention.’

Oh, that right? Now I’m kinda curious to how Veno’s lair is. Actually, if worse comes to worst, could I take refuge there?

‘You… you foolish humans too have a culture of locking doors when leaving home, do you not?’

Why are you asking me so nicely? Wait, don’t tell me… you locked your place up?

‘Aye. In my current state, I cannot unlock my own lair. I employ no underlings either, so expecting assistance there would be unwise.’

What, so I can’t take refuge there? Well, I don’t exactly wish to hole up and fight to my death in a dragon’s lair…

‘We shall advance whilst retreating! To battle!’ “Sure, sure. Muu, you ready?” “Mu!”

Muu voices his determination, so let’s go. We were investigating the second floor, but…

“Muu muu!”

Muu snapped at me over the present situation. We enter a battle with three Claret Sunflowers. Muu deftly pulls aggro away from me, but we devolved into a messy situation. I’m unable to fire my crossbow in fear of accidentally hitting Muu. Fortunately, by deploying poisonous mist with Poison Release, I was able to create some distance from the enemies. That also enabled me to take a few rapid-fire shots, taking them down. However, Muu angrily scowled at me.

‘I realized that you were trying to avoid hitting Muu and I am sure it also understood that. However, the difference is slight between that and Muu fighting alone.’ “Muu!” “I know, but—” ‘Sometimes, your best offense can be your best defense. And as Muu has Self-Regeneration, even striking him with your bolt would mean little to it.’ “Mu!”

I gotta say that I am afraid of hitting my allies.

“Isn’t it kinda cruel to say that it doesn’t matter if I hit Muu just because it’s tough?” ‘Think of it as training for you. Being sure in your aim to assist your vanguard should be your attitude. Even if your battle were to fall into disarray, there will be opponents that distance themselves away from Muu, correct? If you target said opponents first and then ones who are to attack Muu, you shall naturally be assisting.’

I understand that Veno’s criticism is fair. Still, I can’t capably make calls like that in the heat of the moment.

‘In your case, you are overly fixating on the enemy’s weak points. What is your profession? It is Poison-Wielder, is it not? Your job is to use poison to weaken your enemies.’ “That means I should use some kind of slow poison… but if I hit Muu with that, it wouldn’t be just nothing…” ‘I can understand your concern. Muu, we shall train afterwards so that you develop a resistance to his slow poison.’ “Mu!”

Comprehending and agreeing to Veno’s proposal, Muu nods. I want to rely on it… but is that a good direction to head to? Towards Muu being fine even with me hitting it? I’m not so sure about to what extent the power of my poison is. Filing that feeling away, we continue our capture of the second floor.

‘Aye… it is a shame we have not found a treasure chest or the likes, but for harvestable plants, we have much we can pick.’ “You’re talking about poisonous herbs and poisonous mushrooms?”

There’s even poisonous pollen. There are several pools of poison here and there for me to heal up in, so I can comfortably fight in this dungeon. I dare say this dungeon might even be one that fits me the best. If it was fire or water—no, even if this were a non-elemental dungeon, we wouldn’t have done so well so far.

“Mu!” “Muu, you’re almost messed up in the head how happy you are charging in and killing your own kind.”

At first, Muu was excited to get into fisticuffs with a Chartreuse Green Poison Shroom. In the end, Muu’s opponent received too many heavy blows and was literally torn to shreds.

The number of spores scattered in the air during that fight was just awful.

“Muu?”

On our way, Veno highlights and pings what he calls treasure, telling me to collect it. But all it is and what’s it all is just poisonous stuff.

Dietetrodake A mushroom with toxin so strong, simply touching its spores will cause numbness. Upon human consumption, it induces whole-body paralysis and death within minutes. It is a poor choice for assassination as its flavor and odor are terrible.

I am extremely concerned about that last part, but I ignore it.

Red Deathfire A red flame-like grass. Its toxicity is powerful but compounding it other plants will increase efficacy. Take caution when handling as direct contact with the plant leads to inflammation.

I guess this one’s slightly better in a sense. Is this a pile of treasure or a pile of trash…? Well, the number of poisons I can use goes up, so that can only mean our fighting strength goes up too. It seems like these poisonous herbs are considerably valuable as well. More than anything, though, is that these plants are difficult for normal people to bring back home.

Yet… if I weren’t a Poison-Wielder, I couldn’t have gone this deep into the dungeon. I totally understand why Arleaf only stays on the first floor. Well, I wouldn’t really want to see her having to fight all these monsters either. But… with a knife in one hand and a smile on her face, I’m sure she’d be gorgeous sneaking around and assassinating monsters too. It’d be like a horror flick though.

‘So, do you wish to see her doing so or not? Have you decided yet?’

I ignore Veno’s quip. Those are tropes that usually come up in stories. The ol’ damsel in distress versus action heroine. It’s not so much which is right and which is wrong though.

“Muu. Muu muu.”

Hmm? Muu is telling us about something. It’s going up and down, kinda like it’s riding on something. Please stop that. That’s indecent.

‘Are you not the one in the wrong here? You are the one imagining this as anything lewd.’

Quit picking on me! Anyway, what’s it trying to say? It’s flexing its biceps now.

‘Aye… it is able to advance classes now.’ “Mu!” “Oh, really?”

I check his status.

Muu Mutated Myconid Fungus Level 10 Acquired skills: Spore Scatter, Self-Regeneration, Stamina Recovery Rate Increase (Weak), Subordinate of Poison-Wielder, Class change available

Subordinate of Poison-Wielder? What’s that? I don’t really get what kind of effect it has. Is there some sort of buff by being my subordinate? Ideally, it’d give Muu some sort of resistance to poison.

‘If it were so, it would indeed be ideal. I have heard that when people gain Subordinate of Dragon, the effects they may gain are fire resistance and toughness.’

Poison resistance isn’t that far-fetched then. But having that said… in Muu’s case, it’s originally a myconid. It would be likely for it to have racial bonus to poison resistance. On the other hand, I can imagine it being weak to fire and stuff.

‘Due to its race… aye. You can alleviate some of your worries if you were to raise its fire resistance with accessories.’

That’s our best guess on what Subordinate of Poison-Wielder does. In any case, Muu is ready for a job change. We’re at a good place to wrap things up, so we should just head home. Not like we want to stay here overnight anyway. Plus, it’s not like we’re here to grind levels for either of us. It was just good timing for us both.

‘Indeed, it is so.’ “Alright, shall we get Muu its job change and go home?” “Mu!”

We go back the way we came from and end up on the relatively safer first floor. We fought some monsters along the way, but none of them would be what we’d call difficult opponents. And so, we end up back at the run-down altar to perform the job change. It’s the same as how I did it a while ago.

‘Good… now then, Muu. Pray in front of the altar. Wish to be stronger, pray for it, and have a clear picture and determination of how you shall use that power.’ “Mu-Muu.”

Muu is visibly nervous. Still, it goes in front of the altar, clasps its hands together, closes its eyes, and then touches the symbol. Just as how it was for me, a soft light envelops our surroundings.

‘Muu, you have chosen to be his subordinate by your own will. It means that you must gain his permission before you proceed with your class advancement.’ “Muu? Muu muu.”

Is it under my care then? I tilt my head over at Muu.

Muu has fulfilled all prerequisites for a class change.

Please select from the following options:

Fungus→ Warrior Ranger Mage Priest

Hey, whoa. There’s so many for it to choose from. I envy how they’re all standard RPG jobs. And it looks like he can sidegrade too, but he hasn’t fulfilled the right conditions to do so yet.

‘I have heard that it takes time and experience in other classes to cross profession branches. Take for example apothecaries. It requires set amount of time in gathering. The simplest methods include belonging to a guild and having someone with an advanced class to witness your profession change.’

Huh… so you’re saying it may be possible for Muu to spec into Poison-Wielder due to me being its senior?

‘That is correct. However, I wonder if it is possible for someone with such an odd job as you have. In your case, you may very well have a specialist class.’

Well, I don’t know how stuff like that in this world works. But I’ve gotta say, Poison-Wielder does sound like quite the specialist class. It’s what they call a debuffer, I think.

“Mu? Mu mu.” “Ahh, alright, alright.”

Muu calls to us deep in talk, hurrying us. Maybe it doesn’t like so much chatter before its big moment. If it were me, I’d like to get on with it and change my job.

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /next/ (full list of translated chapters) (discussion thread) (please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

#Poison-Wielding Fugitive #PWF #Average Translations #AvgTL #osm #毒使いの逃亡者 #一般の英訳

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idontneedasymbol · 7 years

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@chiisana-sukima

Oh! @idontneedasymbol, I don’t know if it will end up working for you, but I have such a happier textual interpretation of S12 to offer you! I think it’s quite well supported, although we’ll have to wait over time to know for sure. I *love* Dean this season (with the exception that I think all of the characters, including him, are being written somewhat inconsistently and flat), and I think what’s going on isn’t that he’s being written as one-dimensionally violent, but that they’re trying to fix his issues with violence without acknowledging explicitly exactly what those issues are. Which is a complicated endeavor, and so it’s coming out uneven and choppy at times.

(my no doubt overly-copious mounds of thinking on this below the cut)

Keep reading

New post because my stupid, stupid tumblr won’t allow Keep Reading cuts in reblogs! (and I definitely need a cut for this, it got REALLY long (even by our standards ^^;;;;))

I like and agree with most of this reading -- at least subtextually; am not convinced it's deliberate on the part of the writers, but there is an argument for it (in particular I totally agree that Dabb is much more invested in writing them as more standard heroes in regards to killing/violence, rather than Carver's dark, borderline anti-heroes, and I've been a fan of that from the start.)

At the same time, it doesn't address my major issues with Dean's characterization this season. The problem I'm having with s12 Dean is that, while the writing may be exploring his relationship with violence and improving it, at the same time the writers are opting not to show the bulk of good traits the character has always had. (And fair warning, this is a very ungenerous reading of the season. The last ep really got to me; I wasn’t nearly this negative a few eps back, but as the trends I’ve noticed seem to be worsening rather than improving, I’m getting increasingly cranky. Please argue me out of it if you have counter-evidence; I want to be enjoying the show again!)

I don't protest Sam getting the big kills; as pointed out, there's always been an imbalance there, with Dean taking out the majority of the big bads. A lot of this was necessitated by the story. Like you say, Dean's story has always been much more steeped in his complicated relationship with violence, and therefore it was more needed to show that his violence could be heroic; it was always played as a two-edged sword, one of his strengths as well as a weakness. So it makes sense that as his worst issues with violence are reduced, and it's less important to show him being violently heroic, Sam should get more of his share of the kills.

But at the same time they're reducing Dean's heroic kills, they're also reducing all of his other heroic actions as well. He hasn't been given a single scene alone with any innocent victim to bond or show sympathy or offer emotional support. He has been less involved in researching hunts (e.g. going off to have sex in 12x18 while Sam stays up doing research, apparently not helping with the nephilim hunt in 12x19) and more dismissive of Sam's work (along with a new inability to understand computer searches. Dean has been downright stupid a lot this season, which has never been true of him before; he's got random knowledge gaps and he likes to play the idiot, but this season it feels like he really doesn't understand what Sam is talking about a lot of the time.)

It’s not just Dean; the season (second half especially) seems to have been trying to show the Winchesters as not very good at finding hunts or solving them, apparently to justify them joining the BMOL (since information seems to be all they're getting from them?) And by and large, both of the Winchesters have been superfluous to the main story this season; it feels like the majority of what has happened in the arcs would have happened with or without them, and even in MotW eps they've managed to save only a single person most of the time (if even that.) But with Sam they’re at least giving him a little -- being a researcher has always been a fundamental part of Sam's character, so they've kept that up nominally, and he’s gotten to be badass. Dean doesn’t have that much going for him; he has no role in their partnership now, when Sam can do everything.

Except damsel in distress, I guess? But damsels are usually the gentle ones, the heart of the team. And along with not getting the kills, and not helping with the research side of hunting, Dean also hasn't been showing much in the way of positive feelings like compassion or empathy. Emotional vulnerability at times, yeah; but not kindness. That, too, has been left up to Sam.

Dean has been unusually unsolicitous with Sam himself. This, I think, is partly a result of Sam's s12 characterization, which is definitely tilted more toward Big Damn Hero, strong and unneeding of assistance or comfort in the face of torture or monsters or anything else. Dean has not once asked Sam if he's okay this season, even casually after a fight; but neither has anyone else. There has been atypically little light h/c of the sort of the boys getting tossed around and one of them helping the other up, and what there has been has been entirely Sam helping Dean. On the multiple occasions Sam has gotten in trouble, Dean always gets there too late to be of any help, and doesn't show concern when he does arrive. This was at its worst in 12x02, that travesty in which Dean fails to exhibit any concern for Sam whatsoever, even when witnessing him tied up and bleeding (despite vowing to take Toni apart if Sam is hurt in just the previous episode.) At the time I blamed it on Bucklemming, but given later episodes (12x04, 12x14, 12x15) it seems to be the trend, that Dean is not given to showing caring for his brother anymore, either by threatening those who hurt him or worrying over his condition.

(I admit, Dean caring for Sam is my favorite thing in the whole damn show. So the near total lack of it this season, even in minor moments, has stood out to me.) (Meanwhile Sam repeatedly expresses concern for Dean's physical and emotional states. Which I love, don’t get me wrong; but I like it going in both directions? I miss eps like “Mystery Spot”...)

Even with other characters, while Dean can express worry for family/friends (always initially expressed as anger, then walked back to a grudging apology; the Dean who would express worry through humor or supportive gestures or asking to talk is nowhere to be found) his caring is always matched and usually overshadowed by Sam's (except arguably for a couple times with Cas, for the sake of Destiel). And Dean is the one who doesn't understand what Mary's going through, Dean is the one who is mean and petty to Cas, Dean is the one who overreacts to Claire’s decision. Dean's role is to be Goofus to Sam's Gallant, showing, over and over, what not to do.

And yes, they've always had a measure that Dean is the more volatile and emotional one while Sam is calmer and more rational. But it's more extreme now, to the point that Dean can't be calm and rational EVER -- while Sam only gets emotional for brief moments and then calms, without it ever clouding his judgment or decisions.

That Dean has had no time with the innocents this season really bothers me too, because it’s always been one place the show has been quite even -- Sam & Dean have different ways of dealing with the victims of monsters, but they're both effective.

Reading over your analysis of Dean and violence, I wonder if this is all related -- that because the show is softening him in terms of violence, it sees less need to show his caring side otherwise, which has always existed in contrast to his capacity for cruelty. Or even that to preserve his nominal 'tough guy' appearance, when he's not as violent, he has to be harder in other areas.

I really hope that's not the case. I really hope the kind Dean, the Dean who tried to comfort Michelle at the end of "Red Meat" and told Sam he wasn't leaving him in “Don’t Call Me Shurley”, who managed to save the universe by empathizing with Amara, isn't gone for good.

(Even in "Regarding Dean," Dean is sweet and cute, but he's not especially kind. And while I do love that ep, it's probably my favorite of the season, I hated how at the end, once Dean's back to 'himself,' he teases Sam, and there's no sense that he realizes that Sam was genuinely hurting. That's mostly in the editing, they could've easily played it as teasing but also sympathetic. But they don't; he's just a smug jackass. Likewise in "Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell" Dean's fussing over Baby would've been fine if there had been any hint that he was actually concerned about Sam or the innocent and blustering over it with his worry about the car -- like way back in the pilot, asking if Sam was okay, then covering his concern by saying that he'd kill him for damaging the car.)

It's touches like that I'm missing. And as you say, the characterization has been flat this season, and these are some of the details that are getting flattened out. I am hoping that’s all it is, and not that they’ve just decided Dean’s not like that anymore.

And I do hope you're right about the season's general arc. The decrease in violence, especially from the boys and between the boys, was one of the things I most enjoyed about s11, and one of the things I am glad about s12. (I admit I was a little concerned about that -- Dabb wrote one of the worst moments of domestic violence in the show, in that it was played as no big deal, in Dean punching Sam in "Girl Next Door" -- but that hasn't come up; Dean’s being written as a jerk, but at least not an abusive one.) If that is a deliberate choice, it’s one thing to celebrate!

#spn meta #season 12 #meta #dean #my meta #my post #wank for ts #so much wank #i have been stewing on this for a while #now it's all coming out everywhere!#sigh

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componentplanet · 4 years

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Why the Best Super Bowl Commercials Were All Cars and Tech

Super Bowls used to mean Tom Brady hoisting another trophy along with ads of polar bears drinking Coke on not-yet-melting polar ice caps, that and the Budweiser Clydesdales. Now the most memorable – sorry, memorably good – commercials are cars and tech. Car ads have always been part of the 54 Super Bowls, but in the dotcom boom years “tech ad” meant money frittered away. Remember Pets.com? Agillon? Epidemic.com? All goners. Maybe automakers did a better job because there really are differences among cars. And the tech guys have learned from the money-wasting days at the turn of the century.

Here are the best car and tech ads of Super Bowl 54 (that’s LIV for traditionalists) along with some that didn’t click quite as well, and the best non-tech ad. We’re linking to ads from places (mostly, automaker sites on YouTube) that don’t have ads in front of them because why should you pay (with your time) to see an advertisement in order to see an ad?

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The Best Ads: Hyundai Sonata, Jeep Gladiator

Hyundai Sonata Smaht Pahk. Two car ads stood out. The Hyundai Sonata spot for Smaht Pahk was the winner because it was funny, it made fun of a socio-economic group you can always make fun (people from Boston, especially since New England departed the playoffs early), and most of all because it is going to sell Hyundai Sonatas. The Sonata is the most important new car of 2020 (see our review), it is the Extreme Tech Car of the Year, and it’s loaded with standard safety features, virtually all of which are on the base, $26,000 Sonata SE. The top-line Sonata Limited, $34,000, includes Remote Smart Parking Assist, now being called Smart Park. Hop out, press the keyfob, and the Sonata pahks itself at Hahvahd Yahd, and backs out when you return. If you have a narrow garage in Back Bay or Chahlston, you don’t have to squeeze in and out inside the garage.

Too many Super Bowl commercials are ad agency spitting matches using client money to prove who’s more clever, with less thought given to whether the ad sells the product. The “Smaht Pahk” ad will do just that: Get customers to consider Sonata, and realize a mainstream car includes important new technology.

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Jeep / Groundhog Day. This is the other spot that rose above the rest. Bill Murray reprised the 1993 movie Groundhog Day, this time in a Jeep Gladiator, the truck of the year in several autowriter / magazine competitions. It’s funny, it’s nostalgic, and if you don’t know Jeep makes a pickup truck in Punk’n Metallic orange paint and the doors and top come off (you do it yourself), now you do.

The concept of Groundhog Day the movie is weatherman Bill Murray is caught in an endless time loop that restarts each day when he wakes at 6 am to Sonny and Cher’s I Got You Babe, and has to again cover Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. It’s faithfully recreated in the ad, except no Andie McDowell this time. And to Jeep’s good fortune, the 2020 Super Bowl was played on Feb. 2, Groundhog Day. Appreciating this spot probably helped if you’re old enough to remember the movie from when it was in theaters. But if not, you should, since it’s in the National Film Registry for being deemed “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”

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Amazon Before Alexa. Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi ponder what life was like before Amazon Alexa. The spot borders on slapstick: An 1800s upper-class woman in the parlor tells the maid, “Alexxa, turn the temperature down, two degrees,” the maid takes a log off the fire, tosses it through the window to the sound of shattering glass and a man’s muffled scream. A man in an 1800s city asks the newsboy, “Alex, what’s today’s news?” and he responds, “It doesn’t matter. It’s all fake.” Then in a 1970s Oval Office scene, a Nixon-esque voice commands, “Alicia, remind me to delete those tapes.” In the next room, an admin says loudly, “Yes, Mister President,” then softly, “I ain’t deletin’ …”

Conservatives are probably fuming if they conclude the “fake news” line makes fun of rather than echoes the current administration (hmm, who runs Amazon?), and liberals find it fair recompense for sitting through a patriotism-heavy, pre-game show that did conclude with a touching moment when four 100-year-old World War II veterans took part in the pre-game coin toss, led by Charles McGee, a pilot with the Tuskegee Airman that battled both the Germans and racism.

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Google / Loretta. An old man reminisces about his life with Loretta through old pictures Google calls up, along with a clip from their favorite movie, Casablanca. If there’s a “when they cry, they buy” ad, this is it. It’s going to make everybody wish their parents scanned or at least saved and ID’d their favorite photos for you to scan. Not in the commercial but important to know is that face recognition is getting so good – too good, in China – that the thing that used to hard to do, figuring out who that is in a 50-year-old photo, can now be done automagically.

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Old Luxury (Going Away Party) / Genesis. Hyundai’s Genesis division rolled out its first SUV, the GV80, using young and hip Chrissy Teigen and John Legend as they make their escape from old people, oddly shaped dogs, and an old-world mansion into the GV80. From the staircase, she looks down and says, “To old luxury: You had a good run but now it’s time to choose you up a little bit … I give you young luxury.” Teigen then gestures to the open courtyard doors and points to the GV80 that – oops – hasn’t yet pulled up (“Where were you?” she asks driver Legend. “It was supposed to be a thing and you made it not a thing.”)

Never mind that Audi did essentially the same ad – “Old Luxury” (even the same name) – in a 2011 Super Bowl commercial. In this case, yuppie inmates inhabit a faux luxury prison (a mansion in LA) filled with affluent Boomers / Millennials. They unlock the cell bars and make their way toward a waiting car. A guard releases the dogs (showy hounds). When that doesn’t work, he’s ordered, “Hit ’em with the Kenny G,” and as Songbird plays, some refuse to leave while others do. Two escapees make it the courtyard, a Mercedes pulls up (you see the tri-star hood emblem) and one says, “Lancaster, no, it’s a trap,” and Lancaster replies, “Nonsense, my father owned one.”

But the theme works, and has for ages, going back at least to 1988 and “Not your father’s Oldsmobile.” Actually, it doesn’t always work. America’s oldest car brand, the brainchild of Barney Olds, was killed off in 2004.

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The Other Car / Tech Ads

Porsche did a creditable job with “The Heist”: The Porsche Taycan EV sports car is spirited out of the Porsche Museum in Stuttgart. Once the heist is discovered, the guards argue / squabble over who drives which museum Porsche to track down the Taycan. That gives the viewer a chance to appreciate Porsche’s storied history and possibly begin to realize the Taycan is a continuation of Porsche history, not a bunch of greenies gone mad. The voices were a bit muffled, especially if you were watching the game with noisy friends, and works much better played on a PC with closed captions running.

A Toyota Highlander ad showed the car does indeed have a lot of room as the driver – 20 years ago this would have been a soccer mom commercial – picks up various people in comic distress from various scenes, ending with her son.

A third Hyundai group (Hyundai, Genesis, Kia) ad was for the upcoming Kia Seltos but more about the inspirational story of Oakland Raiders rookie Josh Jacobs and hard times growing up. It left some people wonder what Seltos is. Answer: The same platform as the subcompact and well-established Hyundai Kona, a bit roomier inside, and shipping this quarter.

T-Mobile and Verizon touted 5G service, which is still a ways off. T-Mobile used Anthony Anderson’s real-life, sassy, talky mom. Verizon essentially said that without 5G, emergency responders won’t get their job done as well.

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Microsoft, whose Surface tablets are universally used (mandated) by the NFL, told the story of Katie Sowers, an assistant coach of the San Francisco 49ers. It’s a true story of perseverance and success, but the story was already being told in the two-week run-up to the Big Game.

Audi had an eTron Sportback spot run late in the evening after the kids were in bed, so they missed Maisie Williams singing “Let It Go” from Frozen.

GMC touted the rebirth of the Hummer as an EV in an ad with LeBron James. The Hummer is a ways off, so maybe it was okay to be low-key and laid back. This was not a call to action for hand-raisers.

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Scout, the golden retriever owned by Weathertech founder David MacNeil, had his cancer cured at the University of Wisconsin vet school. MacNeil took a 30-second spot lauding the Badger vets and encouraging donations. Wisconsin hasn’t gotten this much PR since this mentions by Wisconsin alum / Wall Street Journal sportswriter Jason Gay in his column. Nice touch – who doesn’t like retreivers? – and if MacNeil wants to spend six mil in hopes of getting at least that much in donations to Wisconsin, more power to him. Pets cure a lot of human ailments by being there for you.

Tom Brady made it to the Super Bowl (as one of the game’s 100 best players of the NFL’s 100 years) and also was a spokesmodel for a Hulu spot. Amazon promoted its drama Hunters. Quibi pushed its short video service that launches this spring (nothing more challenging than 10 minutes) and hopes you’ll start saying “I’ll be there in a Quibi.”

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Best in Show (Non-Tech): Lil Nas X

The hands-down winner among non-tech or car ads was the Wild West dance moves showdown between Lil Nas X and Sam Elliott with Old Town Road playing in the background. (The guy strumming the guitar at the end was Billy Ray Cyrus.) Doritos footed the bill and reaped the rewards, as long as remembers remember it was Doritos and not Bud Light or Axe body wash. And yes, when Lil Nas rides off on a horse with cascading speakers, it pays homage to Sheriff Cleavon Little and the Gucci saddlebags in Blazing Saddles.

Fast and Furious 9: Everybody’s still trying to match Bullitt.

There also were ads that continued through the show, especially Tide Pods, the claim being that if you get a stain on your shirt before the game starts, you can much later wash – remember, wash, not eat detergent pods – and the stain comes out, at which point in the last ad, the guy gets his now-clean shirt stained again. There were plenty of ads for upcoming movies – Fast & Furious 9 (photo), Minions, Black Widow, No Time to Die – and the trailers’ special effects made people glad, or annoyed, they have surround sound speakers.

Fox ran a lot of promos for future programming, including one for the Daytona 500 where stock cars appeared to come onto and arc across the field. Conspiracy theorists will see hidden hands at work when a Super Bowl broadcast on Fox News (actually, Fox Sports, but don’t let facts get in the way) runs the Donald Trump commercial midway through the first period when everyone is watching and the Michael Bloomberg spot didn’t get airplay until late in the extended halftime. Fortunately, Kansas City and San Francisco made it close until the final minutes; three late Kansas City scores made for a 31-20 win. So most viewers stuck around all three hours of the game and J Lo / Shakira halftime.

A few ads got remade at the last minute to downplay or factor out death or helicopters (RIP, Kobe). So the death-and-resurrection of Mr. Peanut spot was pretty bland.

Now read:

5 Lessons From the Death of Frankfurt Motor Show

The Best Cars, Car Tech, and Trends of CES 2020

Best Cars of the 2019 LA Auto ShowDetroit

from ExtremeTechExtremeTech https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/305660-why-the-best-super-bowl-commercials-were-all-cars-and-tech from Blogger http://componentplanet.blogspot.com/2020/02/why-best-super-bowl-commercials-were.html

#Why the Best Super Bowl Commercials Were All Cars and Tech

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anonbstander33-blog · 7 years

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Open letter to LGBT fans of Haifa Wehbe

This is an open letter to the LGBT fans of Haifa Wehbe who were offended by her recent injurious tweet, and more specifically, those who have hastily ceased considering themselves as fans of hers, and may or may not have contributed to subsequent accusations of homophobia and general insults against her character, or other more subtle actions against her. I am not a habitual twitter user, but this topic was brought to my attention and has prompted me to respond, and I hope that you will get to somehow read my response. Please take the time to read this and I thank you in advance for your kind attention. The following is simply the sensible point of view of an observer, and in no way the defensive opinion of a fan.

It is clear that Haifa's social media presence is distinctive from the more standardized PR-driven approach most public figures in her position tend to use. She has opted for a shyer and more personal and unpredictable approach in recent years, and this arguably contributes to her likability and sets her apart from her peers. However, this hasn't been without its faults and it has certainly left room for the occasional and inevitable faux pas, as with this recent regrettable misunderstanding. On this particular occasion, Haifa received a harmful and injurious tweet, sadly a daily part of social media interaction nowadays, but nonetheless upsetting and distressing for most people. She was obviously triggered by the vicious attack on her person, to which she responded on a whim with an equally offensive insult, which happens to be a common gay slur. Although returning hate for hate is not an ideal solution in my opinion, she probably reacted in a fit of anger and without much consideration of the meaning or possible implications of her response, and that is comprehensible. Haifa has proved she is human like the rest of us, and humans are bound to make mistakes, it is in our nature.

While some sources will argue that the term she used is merely an old fashioned expression with no injurious connotation, which is mostly used in law and religious texts in referral to homosexual men, it is unquestionable that its modern day uses are far more objectionable. It is the widely accepted usage of this word as a casual insult that lead her to let it slip unconsciously, but undoubtedly without hurtful intent towards homosexuals, as she made clear in several subsequent tweets. Even if this is the case, it doesn't make using it okay and I am by no means condoning it, and neither is Haifa. The term is widely used without necessary ill will to purposely offend or insult a homosexual person, but sadly without much consideration of the pain and suffering tied to it by gay men in particular. The real issue that needs to be addressed here is the very common, and unfortunately trivialized, derogatory use of this word, which is solely a reflection of a backward society. The attention she gave to clearing up the issue at hand, however, is a sincere reflection of her true self and feelings, and I believe she deserves the utmost respect for it.

Haifa chose not to explicitly apologize and this has to be attributed to her prowess in dealing with the media, she is known for her subtle faculty to minimize media scrutiny in regard to similarly delicate matters. It would have been purposely misinterpreted as an apology for the act of insult rather than for the choice of insult word itself, and her intentions would have been intentionally misrepresented, and consequently the hurtful effect of the term on certain people would have never been dealt with. I strongly believe that given the chance to do it over, she would have still insulted the individual who offended her, as she clearly felt it was justified, and that is very concordant with her "diva" persona. But I am even more persuaded that she would have taken the time to come up with a more poignant riposte, without any homophobic suggestion that is clearly inconsistent with her beliefs. In lieu of an apology, Haifa took several steps that you shouldn't be too quick to dismiss. She recognized her mistake and proceeded to remove the offensive tweet. She then admitted the provoked anger that lead her to react impulsively, not in an attempt to justify her choice of words, but simply to explain her spontaneous reaction and state of mind at the time. She shared the vicious words that instigated her impulsive reaction with her followers, which I felt showed some humility on her part, as well as honest penitence. Furthermore, Haifa made clear her intentions and assured she never intended to offend anyone on the basis of their sexual orientation. She reassured she has never equated the term she used with gay men, and she disclosed the affinity and friendship she shares with gay men in her private life. She also took advantage of the opportunity to express her respect and support for her gay fans. But most importantly, Haifa acknowledged the pain that could be caused by the use of this kind of language, and she expressed regret for causing such pain, thereby addressing the very core of the problem, as opposed to patching it up with a simple apology. Her actions were more responsible than you are giving her credit for, and in my opinion, more powerful than a formal apology, which most likely would have been disregarded as insincere and generic. She acknowledged her mistake and set herself as an example to millions of followers who will think twice before using this kind of language in the future. But regrettably, her actions are still mistakenly perceived by a few people such as yourself as an attempt to justify her use of insensitive language, when it is clearly not the case.

I personally found her standpoints to be quite admirable, and I find myself incomprehensive to your insistence on pursuing your attacks against her. I seriously doubt that anyone else in her position would have taken further steps beyond removing the offensive tweet as she did. She has offered outspoken support for the gay community, a courageous move on her part, especially in these times of growing fanaticism and religious extremism. You have to realize that she is addressing a very variegated and culturally diverse audience that may not be as tolerant in its majority as you might think. Thus the impact of her actions is not to be taken lightly. I invite you to read some of the hostile comments she has subsequently received, actually condemning her actions and expression of support, and I hope it will put things into perspective for you. I am referring to accusations of "promoting immorality", to paraphrase it politely, and other similarly reprehensible and revolting claims. For her to receive backlash from parts of the gay community in addition to this, is unfortunate to say the least. It almost seems that her actual message only got through to real homophobes, and for individuals like you to turn on her under these circumstances is very disappointing to witness.

Incidentally, I would like to draw your attention to the malicious motives of most news sources who have covered this unfortunate mishap and contributed to amplifying it. They are hardly gay-friendly sources, and are only serving their clearly established anti-Haifa agendas, quite transparently I might add. I caution you to not be misled by their deceitful intentions and to not add fuel to their flames. I am positive that these instigators are not serving an ultimate goal of promoting tolerance of diversity and social justice, far from it. On the other hand, I am most confident that Haifa's intentions are honest and sincere. Since early on in her career, she has helped bring visibility to the LGBT rights movement in an unprecedented manner in the region. She has openly expressed support for the gay community in numerous published magazine interviews and in a couple of instances on social media, and she has helped raise HIV/AIDS awareness. She has also voluntarily expressed her support for Trans-rights in a recent radio interview, without much forthright solicitation from the journalist interviewing her. In addition to her public positions, she is known for her close friendships with many gay men in her private life. I have personally had the opportunity to witness on one occasion her interactions with gay friends from her inner circle, and she seemed to embrace them in a very caring and boundless and judgment-free manner. I also found her familiarity with gay culture to be inspiring, and I can assure you that her tolerance is not of the manufactured and calculated kind, but of the natural kind. Her general broad-mindedness and kindheartedness is also something that anyone who has come into contact with her can attest for. Despite her recent gaffe, she will always be regarded as an ally to the LGBT community, and for such a person to be absurdly referred to as a homophobe by some people such as yourself is very saddening.

I want you to know that I deeply empathize with you if you have been on the receiving end of purposely homophobic bullying, and I sincerely hope that you, or anyone else for that matter, would not have to ever endure that again in the future. I also want you to know that I truly understand your anger, and above all, I understand the pain and frustration that lie beneath it. I realize that gay rights are far from being accepted in this part of the world, and I understand the feeling of hopelessness of ever seeing real change, and the feeling of deep frustration that only grows worse by the exposure to other cultures that are embracing equality more and more by the day. I assure you that I am in no way undermining your feelings, and I would like to say that I share your feelings. I only felt the need to point out that your anger is aimed towards a person whose sympathy to the gay cause is incontestable, and that is somewhat unreasonable. This opportunity could have been used more efficiently to raise awareness of homophobia and discrimination, and your time and energy could have been used more wisely to educate rather than hate.

I advise you not let your momentary reaction, comprehensible as it may be, even if somewhat excessive, turn into a grudge against Haifa. I do hope you will be able to find it in your heart to forgive her for her unintended gaffe. And I urge you to reconsider your position and channel your anger and frustration more productively on gay rights issues. Falsely accusing people of homophobia and bigotry in this abusive manner is irresponsible and detrimental to the LGBT cause. The kind of attack you are resorting to is counterproductive to the gay cause and does not help resolve the sexual stigma and discrimination against homosexuals. You are alienating and abusing a true supporter. The anxiety resulting from such aggressive external pressure to avoid behavior that could be construed as prejudiced, in otherwise tolerant individuals, is certainly not conductive to positive interaction and to the raising of awareness and proper sensitization of the public on the issue. Lashing out on an obvious ally such as Haifa, for a mere unfortunate misunderstanding, is simply irrational and unfair. Having someone of her stature and influence as an ally is an undeniable asset. She owned up to her mistake, she was responsible and held herself accountable. Haifa's experience has brought widespread attention to the importance of tackling homophobic language and its deeply hurtful impact, and will hopefully help make the use of this kind of language unacceptable regardless of intent. Haifa also used the opportunity to publicly reassert her support and loyalty to the gay community, and at the very least, I believe, she is owed your respect and forgiveness.

#LOVE #PEACE #PRIDE #HaifaWehbe #haifa wehbe #LGBT #GayRights #Homophobia

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