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#and directly tackle the parts in drawing that I find most difficult
abtl · 3 months
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Hello! I’m the one who made the hollow knight redraw art and I wanted to read the reblogs a bit, saw that you were one of the people inspired by my progress
So I just wanted to say, don’t give up. I believe in you, you can do this. Even if it takes a while, even a little improvement is everything :)
Thank you very, very much for the inspiration and motivation. I shall continue to grind the blade against the whetstone.
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finnlongman · 1 year
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Maybe a video responding to/debunking some of the misinformation out there would draw people in? I'd also watch something along the lines of some of your more bookish blog posts - I always enjoy your thoughts on other people's medieval retellings etc.
Interesting! Thanks. I try to avoid doing anything that seems to be targeting anyone in particular / naming names, so if I were debunking stuff, it would probably only be in general terms. This is mostly because I am deeply conflict-averse and afraid of making enemies, but it does make for less snappy video content – I know the internet thrives on drama and probably if I set myself up to point out what everyone else is doing wrong, I would get more attention. I would rather just give people better-researched alternatives (a positive addition rather than a negative one) but I know that's less popular 😅
To some extent I do already do this – whenever a detail in a text is one that gets misunderstood or misinterpreted often, I'll talk about that and where those misunderstandings come from. But I don't set things up as, like, "five things people get wrong about Óengus" or whatever.
A big part of that is also because a lot of the biggest misinfo I see is related to the more mythological material, but for a lot of people those elements have religious meaning. Many don't mind knowing that aspects of their practice were created by antiquarians or mistranslations in the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries, but some people really, really mind having that pointed out. And it is difficult for me to talk about that stuff from my academic perspective without stepping on people's toes, and either hurting others, or being targeted myself by those angry at things I've said. It's one of the reasons I switched my focus online to the Ulster Cycle, because I got too many aggressive responses to anything I said about the Túatha Dé Danann. Even now, I get the most pushback and negative comments on YouTube whenever I talk about mythological figures, because people perceive my academic, literary approach to the texts to be denigrating their religious/spiritual connection to it.
(Personally, I think people can find spiritual meaning wherever they like, and somebody pointing out what a text actually says is only a threat to that if you are building your faith on unstable foundations in the first place. I am not going to claim that something Victorian is medieval just to spare the feelings of those who would prefer to believe that, but if something Victorian has as much meaning to you as something medieval, then you do you. Just don't get angry at those trying to speak accurately about history and narrative transmission.)
So then when I start trying to directly correct misinformation, it can cause hurt, and it can make me a target. Which is why I try to only do it contextually when it becomes relevant to a specific story. In the past I've still done it clumsily enough to upset people, but I try to be more circumspect about how I approach that kind of thing these days.
Now, if there were lots of low-stakes misinformation out there for me to tackle... but most of that is also, generally, of less interest to people, and arguably ends up being nitpicking after a certain point anyway 😅
My aversion to conflict is related to why I don't talk too much about other people's books. I've done it a little on my blog, as you say, but I only tend to do it when it's a book I enjoyed and when I *liked* what it was doing with medieval material. I'm not a hater. Or rather, I dislike many books and have been disappointed by many retellings, but I will never tell anybody that. Partly because as an author, there's a chance I have mutual friends with that person and it could cause social awkwardness later, and partly because I just don't like putting negative energy out into the world. There's enough of that around.
The trouble is, though, that the books which disappoint or annoy me on that front massively outweigh the ones I love and want to talk about, which *seriously* limits how many blog posts I could write, or videos I could make!
It's one of the things I've noticed about YouTube, and the internet more widely: negative reviews, video essays that pull media apart, and generally critical content immediately reaches a larger audience than purely positive content. I guess because it feeds the drama goblin, and gets rage clicks and outrage, and makes people feel superior if they also did not like the popular thing, but it makes me feel sad. I would rather hear about what people love.
(I also try not to let YouTube duplicate my blog. Making a video takes 10x longer than writing a blog post, so if what I want to say could be said in writing, I will do that instead. I switched to storytelling on YouTube rather than vlogs for this reason; I think there's something about STORIES that benefits from the spoken, conversational element, and reaches people that blog posts wouldn't.)
Anyway, I think my planned "introduction to/beginner's guide to" style videos probably will end up addressing misinformation or misunderstandings in the course of the videos, but they're unlikely to be set up that way. I will think about prioritising topics where I've seen inaccurate info circulating, though, in the hope of countering it!
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the-healing-mindset · 3 years
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This is one that I have been wanting to tackle directly for quite some time. I have done so in roundabout ways so far, but I think this sums it up perfectly.
Know Your Worth
   “You must find the courage to leave the table if respect is no longer being served.” - Tene Edwards
I have been seeing that quote a lot lately. And from a personal standpoint, it is relatable. Reflecting on my life and doing the deep inner work that I have been doing since 2019, I have realized that the major source of trauma and grief that I experienced during childhood and still feel effects of to this day came from my family. This is difficult to talk about, considering I still live in very close proximity to them, but by doing so, I hope that I may help others to put into perspective any potential familial psychological/mental abuse, and to finally heal from the effects of that.
Having had a relatively difficult experience in University, I always wanted someone to talk to about the issues I was experiencing. Of course, I thought I could turn to my family, immediate and/or extended, to get some support or to vent as I didn’t really have that support from friend groups or other resources at school. That was not the case however. I found that not only would I not receive any comfort or advice, I would also be ridiculed and told that none of my efforts to get myself through my chosen program of study were worthwhile and that I should just give up.
On numerous occasions have I discovered that extended family members went behind my back communicating with my mentors and other colleagues sharing the struggles that I had not shared with anyone else. Not that these struggles were anything major, but at the very least, they were things that I wanted to clear out of my mind but not necessarily have shared with anyone else. But that is how my conversations with my family members are handled. Nothing can ever stay between me and the person I share things with. Not even my within my immediate family.
Already operating on this eroded trust with my family, I began to draw direct connections between the way things are now and my childhood. And that was the light bulb moment. Often as a child, my family would call me “sensitive” and would continuously punish/demean me for expressing my emotions. But no matter how hard I tried, there was always something new that I was doing wrong. The rules were always changing. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do that. Yet looking around me, everyone else did exactly those things and they were fine.
The resentment I have toward my family began way back in childhood. Ever since I was old enough to begin forming memories and making connections, I knew something was wrong. I dreaded family gatherings, but at the same time, I was always excited at the possibility at finally being able to be happy for once from their presence. I wanted to fit in. I remained optimistic, only to have that optimism crushed while at the event(s). Yet another thing that I had done “wrong.”
“You trust people too easily.” Yes. I sure do. Because I saw from an early age that there was absolutely no way that I could trust you. And I see now that I still can’t. Even after all these years.
Looking back through the years, it is easy to draw the parallels. They have the same exact behavioral patterns. They use the same tricks. While others have changed, they continue to be the same. And of course, they see nothing wrong.
It has taken me years to realize that I built up walls. Walls that to this day still stand. I know they exist. Hiding behind them hurts. And learning the intricacies of why they exist in the first place is even more painful at times. Having grown up with these people, the pain of being around them is familiar. I suppose that there is a part of most of us that wants to hang on to this pain because it is familiar. Because we have hope that our families will just allow us to be without continuing to put us down.
Letting go of it means that we have to start over. Starting over can be intimidating as we have already invested so much time and effort into certain modes of operation. It may seem as if it will be too demanding to start over with learning a new way of life, which often prevents us from starting in the first place. Don’t look at it this way though. What you have been through has given you experience that will assist you on the next phase of your journey. There is no need to worry. This experience will assist you in being much more efficient in completing the task of learning and growing as a person.
Ultimately what is needed is great distance from the individuals that cause us so much pain. In the beginning, it can seem next to impossible to get away. “How will I survive?” “What will life be like?” These questions arise because our confidence has been taken away by our abusive family members. Subconsciously, we believe that we can do nothing outside of their presence. At the same time, our sense of self-responsibility/care may be reduced. A negative self-image is present.
As difficult as it is, we must first and foremost trust ourselves. Once we leave, we must never go back. In the beginning, our minds may tell us that choosing to be out there on our own was a bad choice. That we should have stayed where we were because it was simple. Everything was predictable, even if it was bad. But we must never return. In the case of some of our families, that would only “prove” them right, making their inflated ego even bigger. 
In the end, you must choose you. You are more important than they are. Yes, there is care and love but in these cases, no matter how much you give to them, you will never get it back. You can do it. You are capable. You are worthy. You are deserving. Get out there and take it one day at a time. Don’t rush. This will only overwhelm you. Fall back on your routines. Show back up to what you know. Show back up to you.
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jisungsjheekies · 4 years
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Thalassophobia
Genre: Angst, fluff
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: Panic attack, swearing
Requested: No
A/N: this is based off my own fear and feelings--Thalassophobia: an intense and persistent fear of the sea or of sea travel. Thalassophobia can include fear of being in large bodies of water, fear of the vast emptiness of the sea, of sea waves, sea creatures, and fear of distance from land.
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The smell of the salty air hit your nose immediately as you walked down the length of the boardwalk. Just off in the distance, the waves crashed against the shore, the beach abandoned despite the beautiful day. You sighed, a smile making its way to your lips as you took in the scene before you. No better way than to spend this sunny day relaxing on the beach, curled up with a book.
“HHHHHHHHHH,” Jisung ran past you, screaming with Hyunjin in tow.
Well…so much for relaxing, you thought. Rolling your eyes, you trailed after them while the rest of the boys unpacked the cars. Bending over, you collected your sandals in your hand, allowing the sand to seep between your toes. You walked further down the beach until you were stood in the shallowest part of the sea, the waves brushing against your ankles. You weren’t a fan of the ocean, having been afraid of it ever since an incident that had occurred back when you were younger, but you didn’t mind getting your feet wet. Mostly, when you’d come to the beach, you’d always opt for sunbathing or walking along the shore, collecting any seashells that caught your eye. Being afraid of the ocean sucked sometimes. On days when the sun was unforgiving and there was no breeze to keep you cool, you wanted nothing more than to jump in the water to cool yourself off, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, having to suffer in the heat with just your water bottle and a book to fan yourself off with. Thankfully, today was more bearable, a slight breeze flowing through the air and a few clouds scattered across the sky to offer you temporary shade.
Your train of thought was interrupted as water splashed against your back. You turned around to yell at whoever it was, assuming it was Jisung, but your eyes locked on your boyfriend, your aggravation vanishing as your expression softened. Giggling lightly, you kicked some water back at Jeongin as he laughed, attempting to block your attack.
“When you’re done daydreaming, the boys and I have everything set up,” Jeongin said, pointing a little ways up the beach. You turned your attention to where he pointed, noticing the blankets scattered over the sand, along with the umbrellas perched for shade. The cooler, that you and Jeongin had stuffed full with the lunch you’d prepared for everyone, was placed in the center of the mess.
“I must have been zoned out for a while because there’s no way you guys managed to set all that up that quick,” you laughed.
“You’re not wrong,” Jeongin laughed, “Felix almost broke the umbrellas trying to set them up.” You shook your head in amusement before making your way up to where the rest of the boys were gathered, Jeongin following closely behind you.
“Anyone up for playing soccer?” Chan asked the group, everyone nodded in response before turning to you. “Y/N?” Chan asked you directly, considering you were the only one to not respond.
“I’m good. You boys have fun, I’m gonna read for a bit,” you told them, turning away to find your bag. Jeongin had placed it carefully next to your spot on the blanket, knowing you’d want to be under an umbrella so you could read in peace. The boys all rid their shirts, leaving them in just their swimsuits as they took off down the beach. Jeongin ran after them, but not before giving you a peck on your forehead, a small smile making its way to your lips at his sweet gesture.
With the boys off playing down the beach, you reached into your bag, pulling out whatever book you’d thrown in there, the cover reading “Everything Everything” by Nicola Yoon. It’d been a while since you’d read it last so you were satisfied with your choice. Getting comfortable on the blanket, you laid on your stomach and placed the book flat in front of you before opening to the first page.
Immersed in the novel, you’d gotten at least four chapters in when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Looking up, you used your hand to shield the sunlight from your eyes as you looked at your boyfriend who was crouched before you. Jeongin reached his hand out to you, a smile on his face.
“Take a break and walk with me,” Jeongin said. You folded the corner of the page you’d left off on, closed the book and placed it in your bag before grabbing ahold of Jeongin’s hand for him to help you stand. You were wearing your swimsuit under your normal clothes so you opted for removing your shirt but left your shorts on as you walked hand in hand with Jeongin down the beach. You noticed the rest of the boys playing in the ocean, splashing or tackling each other under the water. You laughed at your friends acting like children, part of you wishing you could join them. You shook your head, ridding the negative thought, not wanting to upset yourself while you were supposed to be enjoying the day with your boyfriend and friends. Jeongin squeezed your hand in his, pulling you to the edge of the shore before pointing down.
“Look!” Jeongin cheered happily at his discovery. You looked down, your eyes landing on the massive pile of seashells that had been washed in from the waves. You beamed at Jeongin before bending down, your fingers picking through the various shells, trying to find the best for your collection. Most of them were broken, but when you’d found one still whole, you’d grab it and show it to Jeongin with a proud smile on your face before putting it in the pocket of your shorts and continuing your search. Your eyes caught sight of something bright blue deep in the pile as you reached down to grab it, an excited squeal falling from your lips as you rolled the shell around in your hand. It would definitely be the brightest shell in your collection with its blue exterior and speckles of yellow and white scattered on it.
Jeongin would love this one, you thought. Standing upright, you went to turn around to show him what you’d found when a pair of arms wrapped around your figure, lifting you from the ground and ran off. It was obvious that Changbin had been the one to grab you based off the sound of his laughter in your ear. You squealed from the shock before you realized what Changbin’s intentions were, your body tensing up instantly.
“Put me down! Changbin, NO!” you shouted but he didn’t hear you over his own laughter. He couldn’t hear the panic in your voice. He didn’t know you were scared of the ocean, none of them did. You’d never shared that detail about yourself with them, and right now, you were regretting that as Changbin trudged further into the water with you frozen in his arms. Your back was against his chest so he couldn’t see the way your eyes welled up with tears.
Once the water was up to Changbin’s hips, he’d picked you up just enough to toss you out. You had tried to grab his arms to stop him from letting go of you but it was too late, your body being engulfed by the water. All air left your lungs as you panicked. Coming up to the surface, the water hit just at your breasts. The boys stared at you, all of them laughing because of Changbin’s little prank on you. None of them were able to see your face clearly, your head tilted down as the water droplets disguised the silent tears that streamed down your face. Your eyes flickered over the water, your body on high alert as you watched for anything that might approach you. Refusing to move, your legs locked in place, not wanting to draw attention to yourself if anything was near you. The water was a bit cloudy, making it difficult to see your own feet. There’s no telling what was in the water with you, and you’d rather not find out either. Just the thought had you shaking uncontrollably. You heard a voice in the distance but refused to take your eyes off the water.
“Y/N!” Jeongin yelled from a distance. Worry filled his body the moment you came up from the water. He couldn’t see your face clearly, still on the shore where you’d left him, but he could tell something was wrong when you weren’t responding to any of the boys’ calls. Jeongin began to make his way towards you, stopping only for a moment when he noticed your body shaking.
“Y/N?” Jeongin called out to you softly. His heart broke in pieces when you looked up at him, everyone finally able to see your tear stricken cheeks and your eyes wide with terror. The ocean’s current stirred up the floor around your feet as something brushed against your foot, wrapping around your ankle. You screamed, sobs wracking through your body as you struggled to breathe. Jeongin hurried towards you as fast as the water would allow him. Did you get hurt when Changbin threw you? Jeongin wondered as he finally approached you, your eyes screwed shut. A screamed rippled through you when Jeongin reached out to grab you, your eyes shooting open to lock with your boyfriend’s worried ones. You wanted to jump in his arms, but your body was frozen in place.
“Baby what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Jeongin asked you in a panic. All you could do was shake your head, unable to find the words to answer him. Jeongin picked you up in his arms, the movement making whatever was wrapped around your ankle to move as well, causing you to cry even harder as you gripped onto Jeongin’s shoulders. As quickly as he could, Jeongin carried you back to shore and up to your spot on the beach, the rest of the boys following behind, confusion and worry etched on their faces. Jeongin sat down on one of the blankets with you in his lap, cradling you against his chest in an attempt to calm you. He noticed a piece of seaweed had wrapped around your foot, quickly removing it from your body. Changbin had grabbed a towel from one of the bags and draped it over your body. Jeongin nodded his head at him as a thanks. All the boys could do was watch in silence as Jeongin held you, his hands rubbing circles over your back for comfort. Your choked sobs caused his hold to tighten on you. 
“Shhh you’re okay. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise. Just breathe,” Jeongin whispered in your ear as he rocked you back and forth in his arms. You tucked your face in his neck, trying your best to steady your racing heart. You focused on the sound of his voice as he whispered comforting words to you. Jeongin ran his fingers through your messy hair, the feeling soothing you just a little. Feeling the way your body was starting to relax in his arms, he sighed in relief. “I’ve got you, don’t worry,” Jeongin said softly.
Taking it one step at a time, you concentrated on the way his chest rose and fell, matching your breaths with his in order to get your breathing back to normal. Finally feeling like you could breathe again, your shaking had also ceased as well as your crying, only sniffles falling from you.
“Y/N?” Jeongin said, pulling your body back from his just enough so he could see your face. Your cheeks were flushed red, your eyes swollen from crying as you looked back at him. “Are you okay?” Jeongin asked.
“Yes,” you croaked, your throat dry and voice hoarse from your previous episode. Changbin approached your side, handing you a bottle of water. You took it from him, muttering thanks before downing half of the liquid, instant relief to your sore throat.
“What happened?” Jeongin asked. You turned your gaze away, tilting your head down in embarrassment as you answered.
“I’m afraid of the ocean.”
“Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry. If I had known, I would have never done that,” Changbin told you, feeling extremely guilty for causing your panic attack. You shook your head at him.
“It’s not your fault, Binnie. You didn’t know, plus, it’s just a silly little fear. I’m sorry I overreacted,” you sighed. You felt guilty for ruining everyone’s day at the beach. It was supposed to be a fun day, an escape from all the stress you guys had been dealing with.
“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control. We all have our own fears, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I would’ve reacted the same way if I had been in your shoes,” Jeongin reassured you. “While I wish we would’ve found out differently, I’m glad we at least know now so that we don’t put you in anymore similar situations.”
“I’m still really sorry, Y/N. I feel terrible,” Changbin sighed. Again, you shook your head.
“I promise it’s okay. I know you wouldn’t intentionally do that. You were just trying to have fun,” you said, giving him a half smile. “I’m sorry for ruining everyone’s day.” Chan walked over to you, ruffling his hand through your hair, causing your smile to widen as a small laugh fell from your lips.
“You didn’t ruin anything, Squirt, so don’t start stressing about that. We’re just glad you’re okay now,” Chan said, everyone voicing their agreements. You gave them appreciative nods before nuzzling further into your boyfriend’s chest, Jeongin’s arms tightening around you.
“Hey, how does some ice cream sound?”
The boys laughed when you perked up, nodding your head excitedly. “Okay, ice cream it is then. There’s a place down the beach that sells some,” Chan informed. Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin and Minho offered to go along to help bring back some for the others. “Chocolate or vanilla?” Changbin asked you.
“Both,” you grinned cheekily. Changbin laughed at your response before sending you a wink and saying, “You got it, Squirt.” And with that, the five of them set off to retrieve the treats, the other three boys and you staying back on the beach. Jisung and Seungmin found their places on the blankets, laying down to wait for the others to get back with their deserts.
Jeongin placed a gentle kiss against your forehead before asking, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“I wasn’t then but I am now, thanks to you,” you told your boyfriend, placing a kiss on his cheek in return.
“I promise nothing like that will ever happen again. I’ll keep you safe,” Jeongin said sincerely. You smiled, lifting your hand to his face, your thumb rubbing along his cheek as you responded, “I know you will.”
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jiskblr · 3 years
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The Metaphysics of Magic Items
Every individual has channels of energy which flow through them, which collect, pool, and travel along lines which are very similar from one person to another, though not precisely equivalent. The field of magical items has for the most part been the field of manipulating those channels; early items were usually weapons and armor, which touch only on the most surface-level aspects, and our ability to create more sophisticated items advanced slowly in early times, because we did not possess a good understanding of the principles at work. In a quirk of history, the first channels we learned to manipulate effectively were the ones we know regard as the most idiosyncratic and sophisticated: rings. Rings interact not with the local pooling of energy, but with a deeper level of soul-stuff. This requires fine control and is only possible for the most powerful of spellcasters, but it does not involve systematic understanding of the local flows of energy, and so was separable from the rest of the field. The various bodily affinities were gradually understood in bits and pieces, with the first attempts working only for a single type of effect, such as bracers of armor, and usually only in their weakest form - even early rings are, while powerful, much less powerful than we now know is possible. Also early were potions and oils, which operate using the internal magic channels but in a sufficiently consistent way that a rough, very descriptive understanding, without much grounding in theory, allowed them to create a variety of effects operating along similar lines.
It was in the heart of the dwarven empire in the reformed days where magic was no longer verboten that the first systematic understanding of the individual's magic channels began to be achieved. The first treatises written concerned specifically the channels in the legs and feet, but even this was enough to galvanize the field of item creation: methods which had previously been developed for boots of speed and greaves of stealth were, with the benefit of this systematic understanding of a piece of the whole, expanded to accomodate greater power within three decades, and to expand to a much greater variety of effects within two centuries. From there, the systematization tackled the arms and hands, which went much slower than previously because of misunderstandings caused by rings, which were at that time believed to operate only if found in the traditional shape and location of a physical ring. The insight that they were not interacting with the local channels in the hands allowed scholars to more directly analogize the hands to the feet, with rapidly-productive results when the barrier of misunderstanding was overcome. The community of crafters which discovered these principles was initially a guild system which guarded their secrets closely, but the overall concept of interacting with local channels was not kept secret as effectively. For this reason, crafters in other regions discovered similar principles but applied to other parts of the body. The elvish carvers first found the channels in eyes and were particularly effective in creating sensory-enhancement techniques, and then later generalized to the head and face. The core torso proved more difficult to map, though it has not particularly proven difficult to use once it was mapped; scattered druidic traditions managed to map the waist, but the full torso wasn't understood except in the later-developing study where both dwarves and elves, as well as other communities catching up to them, achieved full understanding of the whole body's map. This eventually unified with the methods used by potion-brewers and other makers of consumable-effect items such as the feather token into an overall set of methods. These take a very skilled craftsman to master the full range of applications, but the theory is consistent and understood by most wizards.
To complete the set of common crafting specialties, let me quickly digress on the spell-like items. Scrolls are as old as wizardry and have been rediscovered repeatedly; they are a minor variant of the notation and stabilized spell that a wizard places in their spellbook. The wand was known relatively early in history, definitely present in Lantide and brought to our continent by expatriates, but their creation was not actively passed down by the elves, and the principles needed were lost during the magic purges of the early dwarven empires. It was only alongside the systemization of magic channels that their creation was rediscovered, and understood as the self-contained 'prepared snare' of magical energy that we now use to create them, which is a mixture of the basic scroll with some techniques used for weaponry, creating a final product which can be used by an apprentice caster, a non-mage crafter, or by anyone who chooses to train in their use, which is common among adventuring fixers. The new - and, we believe, better-developed - theories also laid the groundwork for the staff, which combines the aspects used for weapons, the variants on those structures used for wands, and some fine-grained patterning most similar to rings, and created a powerful, sophisticated extension of a wizard's magical networks which allows a skilled spellcaster a much greater range of spells and can be, in a very real sense, a prosthetic extension of the humanoid body - which is why, unlike almost all other magical adornments and tools, it can be recharged from their reserves. It will come as no surprise to my audience that I am a carver of staves, and while I know several other varieties from earlier in my career I truly believe staves are the pinnacle of the crafter-mage's art. Or, at least, they are for now - perhaps in coming centuries we will advance our crafts and make new and yet-more-marvelous types, as our precessors invented staves.
The overall theory of items and the 'bodily affinities' which shape who makes things and why rests on the basic principle that a magic item functions by manipulating the magical channels of the one who uses it. There is a continuum, of course; weapons touch only very lightly, armor slightly more, and sophisticated items can be made to minimize the entanglement, the 'unaffilious' items. But the greater variety of wearable items all use close bonds to a particular part of the network, and have their effects by altering that network to draw on the spells and effects prepared in the item. Wearing two items which try to bond to the same part of the network will, at best, make one work at slightly-reduced capacity and the other not at all; the modified network created by one effect is the wrong 'shape' for the other to bond to it - unless, of course, one of the two has been crafted to not require it, but that is much more involved and takes, for a crafter practiced with both types, twice the time and materials. In principle there should be dozens or even hundreds of possible network sections which an item could bond to, but for the most part the modern crafter divides them into a standard set of twelve. While a few of these have clear delineations, such as the eyes, it is important for the student to note that most of these are essentially arbitrary. It is a fact that the channels in the vicinity of the waist are well-suited for effects which enhance the physical characteristics: strength, endurance, speed, agility. But while any system of crafters which developed independently but with the same knowledge base would make something very much like belts of giant strength, they would not necessarily call them "belts"; they might instead make breeches of giant strength and consider the lower torso part of a different affinity. The virtue of our standard set of twelve, however, is that it is widespread and covers almost all crafters who trade with us. If you create an item with one of our standard twelve affinities, you can be assured that it will interfere solely with other items made to use that same affinity. If you instead make breeches and make use of the channel segments lower on the body, you may have created an item which interferes both with the waist and with the knees and lower legs.
There is, however, reason to think this problem is not eternal. As our theoretical understanding grows more precise, it seems likely that we will find that some of these affinities can be subdivided, allowing more than twelve to be worn simultaneously. We know for certain the affinities are not perfectly interfering, from the art of 'kytoncrafting'. Like many other niche crafting methods, its origin is distasteful, coming from torture cults which revere the extraplanar kytons. But the methods are, when used with informed consent and restraint, ethical and fascinating. Kytoncrafted adornments embed into the flesh, interfering with the circulatory system of blood, and life-force directly, rather than primarily with the magical channels. The result creates wounds which never heal properly until removed, even with the aid of divine healing, but they do not interfere with traditional items utilizing the same 'body affinity', so that, for example, one may wear boots of speed together with ankle piercings of the spider, and have both function perfectly. To date, all attempts to refine this to remove the lasting injury have made them more difficult to create and embed, ultimately approaching the same end state as an unaffilious item. But it gives reason for optimism nonetheless; one boundary can be breached, and with time we can breach more.
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shimzus-a2 · 3 years
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angelica !
angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ?
inspiration and motivation are two very different things. while inspiration is more of a source of interest, motivation is something that can actually be acted upon. i split this headcanon into two parts to reflect the difference between the two, because although shimizu is inspired by some people/things/etc., she may not be motivated to act on them. conversely, what does motivate her may be things she’s not particularly passionate about herself, so there may not be inspiration there.
INSPIRATION : shimizu is a reticent type of person who bases much of her judgment on how she interacts with and perceives others. she’s traditional in that she looks up to and respects her family first and foremost— she sees how hard her parents and grandmother work, and draws strength from their determination. but she’s also a bit more modern in that she’s willing to experiment with unfamiliar things. when she joins the volleyball club, it’s on the basis of no related knowledge whatsoever, but she finds that she looks up to the players there as well. because she is so quiet and self-reserved, there’s a bit of a trade-off where she analyzes others rather than speaking to them directly. although that severely limits her friendships, i think it increases her inspiration and drive.
particularly for the volleyball club, kiyoko learned how to be patient, how to change her opinions of others ( like tanaka and kageyama, who she met on the wrong foot ), and how to contribute to something larger than herself ( x ).
but in general, her experience as the team manager subjected her to watching people grow slowly and devote themselves to something. it taught her that hard work, albeit slow to kick in, ultimately makes people stronger. she watched this firsthand with the third years who she “grew up” with. much of her dialogue in the manga hints that she felt like an outsider on the team because she wasn’t actually on the court playing in matches. she was distanced from the others because she felt that their hard work ( physical exertion ) exceeded her own work ( note-taking and simple maintenance ). shimizu never felt MOTIVATED to play volleyball in the same way as them, understanding that there was a difference between what she could/should do as a manager and what they did as players. however, watching people like sawamura— who was always a sturdy and reliable leader, sugawara— who was diligent and poised even when he was moved off the starting line-up for a kouhai, and azumane— who had talent but struggled with his own self-confidence after a harrowing defeat ... all of these things inspired shimizu.
the dynamic is unusual, and definitely something that i’d like to address in a different headcanon ( because shimizu was never “accepted” into the third year circle in the same way that the three players were ), but she still drew inspiration from them. because she was quiet and alone, far removed from the team by not being a player, and someone without much knowledge of volleyball to begin with, i don’t think she felt motivated when she watched her team, but she was inspired. and this boiled down to the inspiration for hard work, finding passion, being responsible, accepting loss, and moving forward with optimism.
MOTIVATION : motivation is generally broken into extrinsic ( external ) and intrinsic ( internal ) rewards-based systems. shimizu is more motivated by intrinsic rewards, since she’s not a very materialistic person and doesn’t find that monetary/food rewards would be very sustainable to long-term growth.
of course, she is extrinsically motivated by the things she may not be inspired to do. for example, she’s not very good in school and doesn’t receive the highest grades in her class, but she’s still motivated to study and do her homework to receive the best marks that are possible for her. she may not necessarily enjoy school or find passion in each of her subjects, but receiving decent grades is still important to her, so she may be motivated to study when she sees her marks decline.
intrinsically, i don’t think she has a very solid grasp on her motivations until high school. in middle school when she participates in track and field, she isn’t very good. she falls often and doesn’t stand out among her large team. but this doesn’t really bother her. she’s actually quite apathetic towards falling, and seems to take each fall at base value— “oh. i must have fallen again” ( x ). shimizu doesn’t seem to attach any motivation to growth in that regard, since there’s no clear call to action to practice harder and prevent falling. but in high school, she changes a bit and recognizes the importance of working hard despite failure.
by watching the team fail multiple times and yet never give up, shimizu starts to feel motivated to take on challenges. she’s able to level her past relationship with track and field by reaffirming for herself that success/winning isn’t the most important part ( i.e. falling doesn’t mean “failure,” and even if it did, it’s not the end of the world to fall ). instead, what shimizu seems to be motivated by is the concept of tackling challenges. at nationals, she tells herself “it isn’t like i’m expecting defeat. nor am i counting on victory. a challenge lies before me. i want to take it on. that’s all.” this happens to be something she repeats a few times, such as during the third year shrine visit when she says “the gods won’t help you win.” it seems as though shimizu truly doesn’t care about binary wins/losses. so long as someone is able to approach a problem without backing away from it, that’s what’s most important to her. so in terms of motivation ... the potential to win or to rise to nationals isn’t important for her. what she learns in high school— and what she then takes on with her to adulthood— is that one should at least try to tackle challenges when they arise. she’s motivated by the potential for trying and for learning from difficult situations.
i think she knows this somewhat in middle school, but isn’t able to voice it until she’s a third year. it’s probably what motivates her to become the volleyball manager and stick with the team. nobody taught her anything about volleyball when she joined, so she had to teach herself. the challenge of working with an unfamiliar sport and unfamiliar people didn’t necessarily ensure shimizu that she would find victory or satisfaction, but it did give her a challenge to take on and it fed into the curiosity of the challenge.
botanical headcanons ,
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recentanimenews · 3 years
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INTERVIEW: After 13 Years, Indie RPG Masterpiece Ruina is Finally Available in English
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All screenshots of Ruina: Fairy Tale of the Forgotten Ruins taken by author
  This article was made possible through the invaluable contributions of translators Dink and bool, and further aided by context generously provided by writer, translator, and RPG Maker scene dweller Kastel (@kastelwrites). Sections from their answers were excerpted for this piece and edited for clarity and content.
  Last year, at the start of the pandemic, a lapsed member of the RPG Maker community known as Dink stumbled across a screenshot while trawling Japanese free game websites: a black obelisk standing in the midst of ruins. “This is going to make me sound like I've been huffing paint, but this image spoke to something quite visceral for me — like I'd been waiting to find this game. Something about the sepia tones, the light and shadows, the elegance of its very archetype. I knew I had to play it.” Dink had stumbled across Ruina: Haitou no Monogatari (Fairy Tale of the Forgotten Ruins), one of the most acclaimed free RPGs ever made in Japan. Released in the antiquated RPG Maker 2000 engine in 2008 by developer Shoukichi Karekusa, it retains a strong cult following and has even been translated into Chinese. Yet unlike its RPG Maker siblings Yume Nikki and Ib, Ruina is practically unknown in English-speaking countries. Dink decided to change that.  “Once I realized that it had yet to be translated into English,” he said, “it was like I’d become possessed.”
  Ruina is unique. A role-playing game that takes direct influence from tabletop games and gamebooks, it boldly defies conventions established by classic console role-playing games like Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy. Rather than controlling the main character across a top-down map, the player slowly uncovers a hand-illustrated map of nodes. Survival in the dungeon requires the use of ropes, pickaxes, and oil for your lantern, resources that are all expendable. Your party members are valuable not only for their combat skills but for their out-of-combat abilities: thieving, sneaking, even swimming. Most of all, Ruina allows for choice and consequence, a phenomenon far more common in western RPGs than Japanese RPGs. Say you stumble across treasure in a dungeon, but are ambushed by thieves who want the treasure for themselves. Do you give the treasure to the thieves? Stand your ground? Or attack the thieves before they can do the same to you? Since your ability to save in the dungeon is heavily rationed, you may find yourself having to choose between restarting a save or living with the messy outcomes of your choices.
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    There’s something to Ruina that grounds it in the Japanese RPG tradition, rather than a straightforward riff on Wizardry or Might & Magic. Those earlier games gave you several choices as to building your party, but little in the way of story or character. Ruina is a far more curated experience. On starting the game, you’re offered four “backgrounds” that align you with certain other characters, just one year before Dragon Age: Origins would pull a similar trick. Rather than being given the full freedom to explore a sprawling world, your options are limited to navigating a single, contained dungeon. The characters available to be recruited into your party have defined personalities and quirks — some are already good friends of yours, others are insufferable, and still others have significant flaws that speak to the kind of person they are versus their gameplay function. These are NPCs out of the Baldur’s Gate school, given the illusion of life, rather than the team of personalized murderers you’d recruit in an Etrian Odyssey game.
  Very little else in the Japanese games scene is like Ruina. You could draw comparisons with games like Unlimited Saga and Scarlet Grace, representing the legacy of controversial SQUARE ENIX auteur Akitoshi Kawazu. You could similarly connect Ruina with Yasumi Matsuda’s experimental Crimson Shroud, which takes influence from tabletop to the point that it has the player rolling dice in-game. But Ruina is more accessible and polished than a Kawazu game, and far more fleshed out than Crimson Shroud. Even Etrian Odyssey, with its comparatively barebones story and characters, doesn’t quite compare. Ruina stands alone in the Japanese free games community, a legendary title that people respect but don’t fully understand how to replicate.
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    A few days ago I reached out to Kastel, an academic, writer, and translator who is very familiar with Japan’s RPG Maker scene, about where Ruina fit in Japan’s wider field of indie games. “I know many people in the furige (free game) scene who love the game to death,” they said. “But they also found it to be a hard sell due to its unique, almost western take on the scene. The fact that the game is even this popular speaks to something.” Despite its crunchy mechanics and niche inspirations, the game is popular enough to have spawned light novels, an honor not unique to it (other RPG Maker games have accomplished the same) but certainly significant. Kastel drew a comparison between Ruina and Darkest Dungeon, another weird and uncompromising game that draws from both Japanese and western RPGs. “Ruina is sorta different from everything, but you also see dungeon crawlers get inspired by it,” they said. “Not all games take direct inspiration, but you can’t help but see a little bit of Ruina here and there.”
  So why did it take so long for anybody to translate Ruina? Dink isn’t the only person to try his hand at translating it into English; just last fall, another forum dweller placed an ad recruiting a translation team to tackle the game. The unfortunate reality is that translating text within the RPG Maker engine into English requires intensive and repetitive labor. “There’ve been tools developed by vgperson [a prominent translator of RPG Maker games] for RPG Maker 2000 and some other machine translation tools for newer games, but they all remain difficult to use for translators,” Kastel says. “The way games are scripted uses events inside the map and developers rarely name them. So not only do you need to edit it via the appropriate RPG Maker engine, but you also need to go through each event contextless unless the creator actually notes things down.” So, the enterprising Ruina translator doesn’t just need to translate all the text in the game into English. It isn’t even a question of whether or not to manually edit the game’s many pictures and custom menus into English by hand. It’s the sheer difficulty of navigating between thousands of (often poorly labeled) events and variables in the RPG Maker engine, ensuring not to introduce any new bugs or errors in the process, while also finding the time to do all of the above.
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    Dink was assisted by a friend of his named bool, who played through the game alongside the translation process and gave invaluable advice and fixes. “Uncovering the mystery in the game's story sort of ran parallel with the translation of the game itself,” bool says. “As the story progressed, the characters would decipher and learn more about the lore of the eponymous ruins within the game, and as the translation progressed, the same held true for us. It really captivated me to be a part of this process, and I started to look forward to each new area that I could explore and each new morsel of the story I could understand.”
  Without bool’s efforts, it might have taken far longer to put together something workable. As it was, it took four exhausting months. “I worked long hours — 12+ hours a day, 6, sometimes 7 days a week on top of my day job — and very rarely used my free time on anything else,” Dink says. “I did manually input the text in RPG Maker 2000, which has raised some eyebrows because there are some very nice tools available for game translation that would have saved me a lot of time. However, a huge advantage of working directly in the editor is being able to see the game more or less as it appears to players. A Notepad file streamlines the basic translation process, but it also heavily obscures context, whereas the editor allows you to see what switches and variables are being used, what music is being played, and sometimes even helpful creator comments, all in the same relative order you'd experience it from within the game.” Dink had one more secret weapon up his sleeve: the experience of working with the RPG Maker engine as an adolescent. RPG Maker has a reputation of being a tool designed to churn out Dragon Quest clones with ease; but nobody knows the intense difficulty of forcing the engine to do something, anything, like a former RPG Maker developer does. 
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    The English version of Ruina, as it currently exists, is a workable but inevitably compromised version of the game. Running the game requires installing the Japanese RTP pack of visual and audio resources for RPG Maker to function, along with the use of the EasyRPG player to provide English-language player name entry. There’s the matter of the custom menus, as well. Several of the menus have been replaced with functional English equivalents, but by Dink's own admission they could use an expert's attention to better compare to the original. Other pictures, such as place name displays, have yet to be replaced by English-language equivalents at all. And the strict character limits of RPG Maker 2000 led to some creative truncating when translating from Japanese to English, especially with item and skill descriptions.
  But the existence of an English-language Ruina, one that renders the whole game playable from beginning to end with a readable script, is a miracle. Speaking for myself, I started the long process of learning Japanese two years ago in part so that I could one day play this game, never expecting there might one day be an alternative. Others in the Japanese RPG Maker scene, knowing the brutal difficulty of translating a game made in the earlier engines, were shocked that a game of Ruina’s complexity and length was successfully translated at all.  Speaking for themselves, Dink and bool insist that their own story doesn’t matter much. What matters is the quality of the original game and the hard work developer Shoukichi Karekusa put into its creation. Anything else is an addendum, another version of the game that — while it cannot ever be the original — might at least make something resembling that original experience accessible to others.
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    Frankly speaking, I think there’s something to that. The “true” version of Ruina will always exist in its original form, released for free by Karekusa in 2008. It stands as the defining work of a creator who sought to create a unique experience combining the appeal of console and tabletop roleplaying games, with no concessions to market sensibilities. A creator who not only released their baby on the internet for free, but insisted that a game like Ruina must always and ever be free. An austere monolith, it stands side by side with Yume Nikki, Ib, and even Cave Story as one of the great works to come out of Japan’s independent scene. Now any English speaker can pick up and play this new version of Ruina, and learn what that monolith is and where it leads to.
  You can download the English translation of Ruina here. For those who want to learn more about the Japanese RPG Maker scene, I recommend checking out Kastel’s page here.
  Are you a Ruina fan? Let us know in the comments! 
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    Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he is not working through exercises in Wanikani, he sporadically contributes with a loose group of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying? You can find him on Twitter at:@wendeego
  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a feature, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!
By: Adam Wescott
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collecting-stories · 5 years
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Poolside - Billy Hargrove
Thanks, I had this idea after watching the clip from season 3 of stranger things where Billy work as a lifeguard: he's been in love with YN Henderson since he moved and he finded out that she was at the pool this vacation, he quickly get a job there in hopes to talk toher( and see her in a bikini) but, Dustins sister didn't believe him, that he changed (character development there) and it gos with flashbacks of them together, until the day he goes to work and she goes to see him (cute couple)
A/N: This is AU and goes back and forth with present day and flashbacks. 
Poolside | Billy Hargrove x reader
If there was one thing that Billy Hargrove knew about Dustin Henderson’s older sister it was that she wouldn’t give him the time of day. He was certain that he could drown in the Hawkins’ Pool and she would keep on sitting up on her lifeguard chair, pretending like she didn’t even know he existed. He’d tried everything too. Or at least, all his usual stuff. The whole arsenal of Hargrove charm was unloaded on her and still, nothing. She’d ignored him from the day he arrived in Hawkins aside from one time when he was jerking Steve around and she’d shoved his shoulder in the hallway when he walked past, and called him a loser. That was the first and last time she ever spoke to him and it wasn’t even a positive interaction but that didn’t matter. Billy was hooked.  
-
You looked down the length of the pool to where Billy was emerging from the changing rooms, sunglasses on and looking like he just stepped off an episode of Miami Vice. You rolled your eyes at the moms who were lined up beside your post, waiting for Billy to walk past. They were gross, leering at a teenager like he was a piece of meat. Two more minutes and your shift would be done and you wouldn’t have to think about the creepy way Mrs. Wheeler smiled when she saw Billy walk along the poolside. There was only one good thing that came with working opposite his shift every Tuesday. If you hated the way the mothers looked at him then you loved the way they glared at you, like they were truly contemplating jumping from their loungers and throwing you into the pool.  
“Henderson.” Billy greeted, sliding his sunglasses up onto his head. He watched you climb down the short ladder, eyes lingering on your legs and ass in your one-piece.  
“Hargrove.” You finally replied, turning off the last step so you were face to face with him. And then, with all the mothers leaned in their chairs so they had the perfect view, you grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. He kissed back, grip on the ladder tightening as he let himself get a little lost in the way you ran your tongue over his bottom lip and grazed your teeth against his skin.  
When you pulled away he was looking almost like someone had drugged him. You grinned, letting him go and walking back passed the women, each one trying to jedi mind-trick you into the pool. At the last mother you turned, blowing your whistle at Billy who was staring right at you. “Eyes on the pool lifeguard.”  
“Yes ma’am.” He teased, that easy smile returning to his face as he climbed up the ladder.  
-
The first time Billy tried to speak to you the school year had just ended. Everyone was talking about summer and vacations and the mall that had just begun construction in downtown Hawkins. It was boring by California standards, which Billy made sure to announce to every single person who asked him what he was planning on doing for the summer.  
“Being bored man,” he had replied when Tommy asked him. They were standing around the school parking lot smoking. “Nothing but shit in Hawkins, not like Los Angeles.”  
He saw you walking to your bike as Tommy said something about the girls in LA. Billy was already a million miles away from the conversation though as he walked down the hill to where you were, ignoring Tommy and Carol calling him in favor of trying to talk to you. He flung his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out as he stepped up on the curb.  
“Bike rack giving you trouble?” He asked, smiling.
You looked over your shoulder at him, maneuvered your backpack, and resumed pulling your bike from amongst the others. “I got it.”  
“Ya know, I could give you a ride?” He was over confident in his proposition because he’d never been turned down for a ride before. Girls were usually waiting for him to ask, ready to say yes before he’d even approached them so he wasn’t expected the look of annoyance you shot him as you mounted your bike.  
“I got it.” you repeated, clearer this time as though his hearing had been the reason he wasn’t getting that you didn’t want any help from him. “If you would move?”
Billy took a step back, more out of confusion than because you asked, and nodded his head. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
He watched you bike away and despite the cold shoulder he’d been dealt he still felt that same draw to you that he had the first time he saw you at the Halloween party, sipping punch with another junior. Your eyes had locked with his and when he’d given you his signature smirk you’d only rolled your eyes and turned away from him. There was no indication from you at any point from October until now that you were interested in him at all but Billy couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to get to know you. To know what it felt like to have all your attention.  
-
Your shift at the pool was over but Billy was giving you a ride home and he had a whole five hours to kill before he could leave so you went to the changing rooms and swapped out your lifeguard bathing suit for a two piece you’d bought when you took Sadie to Starcourt last week.  
The job of the lifeguard was pretty basic: watch the pool, make sure no one drowns, make sure everyone follows the rules, blow the whistle at four pm for adult swim. All that was really required was that the lifeguard was good at swimming, could blow a whistle, and didn’t take their eyes off the pool. Simple enough, and yet Billy was having an increasingly difficult time doing his job this afternoon. You had set up a lounge chair directly across the pool from his station and were sun bathing in the two piece he’d seen in your bag but definitely hadn’t imagined being quite as appealing on you as it was. He shifted in his seat, eyes on you as you reclined on the lounger, your own eyes obscured by sunglasses. Probably closed though, it would be just like you to drift off while you were sunbathing.  
Billy placed the whistle between his lips, watching you from behind the sunglasses that were perched on his nose. He could hear the moms chattering below him as he pretended to scan the pool area. It was nearing adult swim and he had his whistle ready for the moment but he was more invested in you sunbathing than in his job.  
Another lifeguard, a friend of Tommy’s named Derek or Derk or something, stopped to talk to you and Billy leaned forward a little bit, watching as you took off your sunglasses and gave the guy towering over your lounger your full attention. When he leaned in, bracing a hand on the back of the chair and you laughed Billy decided enough was enough and blew his whistle. The sound was shrill against the backdrop of shouting children and cannonballs. Everyone seemed to turn their attention toward him, curious to see who the lifeguard was going to yell at.  
“Hey,” Billy’s voice sounded almost louder than the whistle. “You two, quit distracting the lifeguards, we’re trying to work here.”
“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t mean to distract you.” Derek/Derk shouted back, looking smug. Billy had half a mind to jump off the guard post and tackle the asshole to the ground.
You smiled at Billy and winked but said nothing about his blatant display of petty jealousy. Your boyfriend was nothing if not needlessly dramatic most of the time. It was something you were gradually becoming more and more used to. You had even begun to find it endearing rather than annoying when his dramatic side came out.  
-
Billy wasn’t entirely sure how he had won you over but he somehow managed to get you to agree to a date. It wasn’t anything fancy, a double feature at the movie theatre, some blockbuster end of the year hit that was being advertised all over the place. He really wished he could zero in on exactly what it was that made you say yes to another date. Was it the way he had asked you? Or maybe he’d done his hair in a particularly good way that morning. The clothes were ones he’d worn plenty of times but had he ever worn them in this combination? He couldn’t remember.  
All he remembered was the nervous feeling gnawing at the bottom of his stomach, threatening to crawl out of his esophagus and strangle him alive. On the surface Billy was a fairly confident guy. Tough although a little mean at times he was trying to fix the parts of himself that he didn’t like any more. He’d been nicer to Max already, something she had told Dustin who told you during dinner one night the week before you agreed to the date with Billy. So okay, maybe part of him changing himself was based on getting you to go out with him but it wasn’t completely that. At least he wanted to believe that it wasn’t. And if it was, at least he was becoming a better person, and that was good...right?
He asked you out on a Friday, just after the last bell rang as you stood by your locker. He listening to Tommy drone on about something unimportant when he looked in your direction, something he did frequently, and found you looking at him. Billy wasn’t ever embarrassed to be caught staring at someone. Usually when he was it meant that they shared his interest. But he had never seen you looking at him before, and he looked at you a lot.  
You glared and then turned away from him, back towards your locker. Billy took the opportunity though, breaking away from the boring group of kids that he hung around with in Hawkins, and walked the short distance to your locker. He leaned himself against the wall, arm over his head to show off his muscles. It was a classic move of his, it had worked plenty of times.  
“Hey,” he greeted, self-confident smirk on his face.
You rolled your eyes, “what do you want Hargrove?”  
“How about you let me take you out tonight? There’s a double feature down at the theatre.” He spoke with a lot more confidence he had, something he had trained himself to do expertly.  
“No.” You shook your head. Just because he had managed to get you to say yes doesn’t mean you had said yes immediately.
“Come on,” he started, pushing through his speech when you fixed him with an annoyed glare. “Just one night.”  
You shut your locker and turned to him, watching the way his arm came off the wall and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Dustin had told you all about how nice he’d been lately to Max but he was still hanging out with Tommy and Carol. Still skipping school to smoke pot under the bleachers. He hadn’t totally changed but... “one date Hargrove. You can pick me up at six.” You said, pushing passed him.  
You missed the dopey look on his face.
-
“Why’re you trying to torture me?” Billy asked, trapping you between his car and himself. You had brought Max and her friends to the pool on your day off. While you had thought about telling Billy you were planning on coming you decided you would much rather surprise him. So you showed up, another new two piece, and parked yourself right across from his lifeguard station, just like you always did.  
When you had finally gotten up to buy something from the concession Billy had blown his whistle quietly as you passed him. You stopped, smiling and turning to look up at him as he hung over the side of the stand.  
“What’d I tell you about distracting the lifeguards?”
“Sorry it’s just...there’s this one lifeguard-”
“Oh yeah?” His sunglasses slid down his nose a little and he looked at you over the rims.  
“He’s super hot.” You grinned, dragging out the u in super.  
“Lucky him.” He played along. He sat back, leaning against the chair and fixing his sunglasses, “I got break in ten.”
“You don’t say.”
Billy spared you a glance, trying to act nonchalant about the situation which made you smile. “Meet me by my car?”
“I’ll see you there.” You replied, walking the rest of the way to the concession. You polished off the fries you got in less than five minutes and then sat at the edge of the pool chatting with El while Max and the boys had a diving competition. When you saw Heather walking up to Billy’s lifeguard stand you stood and headed out to his car as promised.  
You leaned against the passenger side, still in your two piece with a pair of high waisted shorts on. When you saw him walking toward you the smile on your face was undeniable. How you went from hating him to liking him was beyond you but he had managed to work some sort of charm on you. He was quick to pull you into a kiss, pinning you against the side of the car.  
“Why’re you trying to torture me?”  
“Cause it’s fun?” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. He put one hand on the car to hold himself steady and wrapped his other arm around your waist.  
“What are you doing after this?” He asked, leaning in to kiss your neck. His lips were soft against your slightly sweaty skin. The heat that radiated from you laying out in the sun made him smile against your collarbone.  
“Taking your sister and El to the movies. It’s girls’ day.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair, brushing the strands away from his shoulders.
His eyes met yours, the smallest pout threatening to break through his features. “How about you have girls’ day tomorrow?” He requested, leaning back in and placing a kiss on your hairline.  
“I promised Max.”  
“She’ll survive.”  
“So will you.” You laughed, moving your hands to his chest and pushing him away from you.  
“Tease.” He called, catching up with you as you walked back towards the pool gate. He grabbed your waist, pulling your feet off the ground and kissing your neck once again.  
“Billy!” You grabbed at his hands, laughing as he leaned back to lift you further off the ground and bend you slightly backwards over him. “Put me down!”  
“Have girls’ day tomorrow.” He replied, shaking you back and forth.
“No, I promised Max!” You cried, determined not to give in.  
“Have girls’ day tomorrow.” He repeated.  
A whistle caught your attention and Billy put you down, looking over to the gate where Heather stood, whistle still in her mouth. She spit the whistle out, “your break is over.”  
You took the opportunity to pull out of Billy’s arms completely and head toward the gate again, turning one last time to wink at him. He shook his head and walked back to his lifeguard post, climbing up the ladder and putting his sunglasses back on, already turning his attention to you as you joined Max in the pool.  
-
Fingers crossed this worked with the flashbacks included. Billy isn’t a favorite of mine but I did my best lol. 
taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @mixedwiththemoon @titty-teetee  @queenmissfit @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @absentmindeduniverse @his-paradox 
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zeroxz21 · 4 years
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[WP] You're the most powerful villian in the world. Formerly. Now you run a bar, that works as a neutral zone for heros and Villians alike. One day, a hotshot hero tries to arrest you.
A short story I wrote based on this writing prompt, submitted on reddit by u/zxcxdr:
So first of all, I accomplished what no other villain or hero has ever done, before or since.  
I Won. And by Won, I mean there was nowhere up for me to go. I dominated the world uncontested.  
  How did I get there? Well, it started small. I was among one of the first, you know, except I didn't know it to start with. One of the first superpowered humans. Even *my* scientists still aren't sure what started the cascade of births of humans that exhibited supernatural phenomena. My power, I eventually realised, was that of mental suggestion, control, and manipulation. I had unwittingly climbed my way up through the education system and into being the owner of multiple successful business enterprises, before I figured out how it had come to be that I had accomplished this. Not through my skill and intelligence alone, but because I had coerced those around me into following my will without even realising until then.  
That first ‘hero’, back when they were totally unrestrained vigilantes, had decided that I had too much of a monopoly, and decided it must be wrong somehow. They came to stop me. They found me, and though they were not an especially strong superhuman by many of the standards we now find, it was more than a match for the ordinary man that was me. I was not incompetent in martial arts but it didn’t do much against someone who could feasibly tackle a rhino in hand-to-hand combat. I was swiftly levelled, bones broken, bleeding from cuts and gashes their blows inflicted. I was messed up, my life beginning to flash before my eyes. They loomed over me, ready to finish me off, this self proclaimed executor of justice. I closed my eyes, willing desperately that they’d just leave me alone, let me live, please!... and they did. I peeked out of my blackened eyes, just to see them turn and walk away. Totally inexplicably. It was then that I figured out exactly what gift I had.  
I curbed myself for a time, so as to avoid drawing further unwanted attention, as I learned to harness my powers more deliberately. Everything now made sense, fell into place. I could do anything with this. So I did.  
My empire grew, eventually expanding beyond my birth country into others. My profits I collected entirely for myself, other than what investment was needed to expand my business fronts. I used much of them to hire many learned people in order to do research for me, and me alone. Biology, genetics, engineering, physics. I wasn't sure what I needed them for yet, or how big I would grow. I just knew that I wanted to be bigger. My power was to control, to dominate, after all. It was… only natural, that I exerted that power as far as I could.  
I briefly considered using the fruits of my research to further enhance my business, but then realised I was doing just fine increasing my monopolies without them. All the better that I save the results of that research myself, to ensure I was always several steps ahead of the rest of the world; weapons and defense tech, medicine, computing, so on.  
I increasingly tangled with heroes and villains of various stripes. Heroes who disrupted my more illicit machinations, villains who saw me as a threat to their own plans of domination. This was very rarely directly with me, of course, but with some subdivision somewhere several steps down the chain of command; I had learned from that first brush to keep myself better hidden, allowing others to be the face of things, even behind the scenes. By now I had amassed hordes of paid mercenaries, assassins, my new robotics division, and other superpowered people I had brought under my personal manipulations, in order to counteract any interference. I was absolutely untouchable.  
It took nearly a century before the governments and public at large realised just how much my empire had begun to infiltrate and control the world. One particularly devious heroine managed to connect the dots in secret, somehow beneath my notice, and outed to the world how all these businesses were, behind the scenes, all feeding their profits, and being controlled by, a singular source. It was a scandal that shook the world, the anti-monopoly laws many countries had having been long, long broken.  
It was especially damning for them as they knew not how to respond. I simply owned everything. Food production and dispersion, communication services, military research, utilities production, construction, banks… so much of what society at large relied upon to function was connected, at the top, to myself. My personal identity and existence remained hidden, so no one knew what they were all collaborating for, not even the higher ups that operated for each of these factions knew, just had a strange urge to do certain things, send supplies off to who knows where, transfer funds into a nameless back account. All easily hidden as I owned and operated all these things myself, and controlled everyone involved at a higher level. No one who knew would call me out.  
For me, much had changed. In secret, knowing this would happen eventually, I had been building myself up. I had a top of the range facility hidden in the middle of the ocean in a politically neutral zone, with little marine life to draw ships to it, seeing as the currents were not favourable. And I say top of the range, well it was more than that, seeing as top of the range would be the height of what is available on the public market.  
I had carefully held back the technological advance of society, everything being over five decades behind where it would be if I hadn’t deliberately drip fed out new advancements.
So, where was I all this time? Hidden in my top secret facility. A small island, purely of my design, I had spent a decade in the past building up the foundations. My own personally designed ecosystem kept the island naturally functioning, enhancing long term stability. The facility itself, totally secure from any and all detection by ‘modern’ top military tech of any nation, immune to any conceivable attack. And further than that, resistant to all known and documented superpowers out there. Laser vision, temperature manipulation, pyrokinesis, raw enhanced strength - nothing would get through the advanced materials and defensive technology my cabal of enthralled scientists had been devising.  
And if that wasn’t enough, I myself was all but untouchable too. My biological and cybernetic divisions had enhanced my body, infusing me with powers taken from the heroes and villains over the years that had unwittingly crossed me, new abilities and enhancements on top of that they had devised. I was as close to immortality as was feasible to achieve. I certainly wasn’t ageing, hence all these extraordinarily long term plans by the standard of any other villain who sought ‘world domination’. They were foolish to me.  
Yes, you may notice I haven’t mentioned them much. Heroes, villains. They were there, but all just part of a much larger framework. If it wasn’t for me, they may have been much more significant. But, supposed villains were as much as problem as a hero finding me out were, so I ensured they were stopped before they got out of hand. As such, heroes never rose up to be the executors of justice they probably would have done, because significant foes that needed that kind of response never truly existed. Back then, to me, they were all just the superhumans. Just another aspect to worry about.  
So it was that I broadcast publicly for the first time. I told everyone of who I was, what I had been up to all these years (not in any real detail, of course). I told them of my powers, my control of the world, and my personal supremacy as an individual being. All would kneel before me at my command, all would do as I bid of them. No one would resist.  
Naturally, those in governmental positions who were not being manipulated against it, all took this as an act of war. Many of the stronger world powers immediately launched large scale assaults on my facility, easy to triangulate with such a large broadcast. Many superhumans of all stripes also joined the charge. Nuclear warheads, missiles, bombs, even some advanced laser weaponry, was fired upon me, the might of nations focused on a single point, as well as fire, lightening, strange energies and brute force hurled at my fortress by the superhumans themselves.  
My facility’s highest recorded energy expenditure during the prolonged, month long assault was 23.7% of maximum output.  
Having exhausted themselves of so many resources, I sent out my own, entirely robotic and unmanned ‘military’ to forcefully seize control of any and all places that had defied me; I might have controlled much of the business side of the world, but the people themselves, the politics and governments, had been difficult to fully control, only influence and hold back from achieving too much undesired progress. It was an easy, simple coup.  
The world was mine, none would ever again raise a hand against me. Me long, long plan was finished. I went to my station, ready to make my second broadcast. I would tell them all to…  
What was I going to tell them all to do?  
I sat down then in the chair before the cameras and microphones, slumping. It had been pure instinct and human nature to be the top of the food chain, to be safe and uncontested, to be the fittest in the survival of the fittest. But now that I was here, completely and utterly with no resistance or further efforts to secure and maintain my position really needed… why was I here? I had never really thought what would be done beyond this point, merely that there was a drive to be in this position.  
I could tell the world to do anything. To kneel, bend a knee to my power. But this was the pathetic folly of monarchs and tyrants past; the forceful submission of people didn’t really have much meaning for me. I didn’t really care. But what else was there to do? Just let them carry on? I could have stayed here, quiet and safe, without enforcing my will over the world. But then, that was what I was good, it was my power that had started off all these things. It had to mean something.  
So I thought about things. What did I want to do with them, the world? Moreso, what did I want to do with me? What did my life mean?... what did theirs? Everyone else?  
I listened to what the world was doing. Apathy reigned. Resigned to their fate with no choice at all, productivity of the world was declining. Motivation to continue producing, creating, living, was beginning to decline, and had been since my announcement. It had taken a steeper turn again since my forces had been sent out. Birth rates plummeted, as did the marriages, the kindling of new relationships, even divorces and splits.  
I sat on the moon, watching the planet for myself. I spent some time there, watching it turn. I watched the lives people lived, listened to their pleas to one another. I don’t know when exactly I realised what the truth was, that free will was important above all. For life has no meaning if you cannot, in some small way, control your own fate, have some say in it. This is at least one of the meanings of life, for I would not dare so arrogantly claim to have divined the one true meaning of it.  
I still didn’t know what I wanted for myself, but at least, for the world at large, I knew what needed to be done. No matter whether my intentions would have been good or evil, right or wrong, anything other than what I was to do would be appropriate.  
It was two and a half months when the second of my worldwide broadcasts went out. I breathed in a sigh, put on the mask, and appeared before the world, and told them:  
That they were free. That I would withdraw any and all of my forces. That I would relinquish control of all people, to do as they wished, for themselves. That humanity would be truly free for the first time in over a century, since my dominion had begun. I told them I would remain here, just in case to prevent true calamities, but that otherwise their fate was now their own.  
Switching off the broadcast, I broke down, completely and utterly, weeping ugly tears as for the first in one hundred and seventeen years, 4 months and 12 days, I pulled in my power to control the will of others.  
I don’t know how long I was out cold on the floor for, exactly. I had not realised the pressure it had been having on me, years of building up endurance and resistance allowing my stranglehold to grow impossibly vast. I couldn’t rest yet though; I needed to check on my facilities. All my scientists, researchers and their families (some no local here into the third generation of being my thralls) had just been freed.  
I went to them, seeing into their rest chambers before I entered for myself. I wretched as I saw the expressions on their faces, far deeper than mere confusion as those I controlled elsewhere may have felt. I wasn’t sure I could live with myself, but then, suicide was simply not acceptable; after what I had done to the world, the least I could do was safeguard it from destroying itself. If those nuclear weapons had been trained anywhere but here…  
I entered, then, and called the attention of all those who lived here with me. For me, really. No one had ever really been… with me. It was strange, how I could watch the world and how people lived, had my scientists study the depths of human psychology and social need - and not apply it to myself. I had no friends or family to speak of.  
Having seen the broadcast themselves, I reiterated it to them personally, and what it meant for them: they were free to do as they wished. If they wanted to go anywhere, I would take them, do whatever they needed to be set up safe and secure away from here, and out amongst the nations. I also offered a home for those that wished to stay, and further their studies here, as I explained that I would remain on watch for the world to try to prevent the worst of potential consequences, either from the people to each other, or an unseen natural calamity. Remaining ahead of the militaries of the world would be prudent. I told them they did not have to make an immediate decision, but to let me know of their wishes by the end of the week, preferably.  
I spent the week isolated while I waited for answers, trying and failing to determine what my own purpose and desires might be. I left the isolation at the end of the week, nervous as to what messages had been left for me.  
It shook me to my core to find that I didn’t even have any.  
I went out and spoke to them, then, not as their ruler, but as a compatriot. I was amazed at their kindness and generosity towards me. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve it. My psychologist team laughed off the explanation that I had actually enacted effectively the results of their research into my home for, such that they were all kept happy even on finding out they had been under my thrall for so long.  
So I asked them, if they would be so kind, what about me? Unfortunately, they couldn’t decide for me. That would have to be something I found for myself.  
There was plenty to do, don’t get me wrong, but one finds one needs a drive to truly thrive. I watched the happenings of the world for clues. Most hobbies I had indulged in at some point, but nothing like that was really enough.  
A curious development over the coming months was the marked rise in superhumans having influence on society. Often at odds with one another, marked heroes and villains arose. Villains threw their weight around, trying to bend society to their will and under them, as heroes rose to meet them in battle, both physical and ideological. The right and wrong of the matter was rarely clear in such engagements, a far cry from the cheap fictional heroes that had provided entertainment for many over the years.  
Large factions formed, self proclaimed Lords of Evil, Bearers of Light and so on had increasing social, and eventually political, influence. They were beginning to drive the turn of society.  
But so their powers grew. Able to exercise them to their totality, villains I might see from the past that could turn the wind cold, were now able to chill entire towns. A mighty hero who lifted a car to save a child was now able to grapple with a mountain avalanche. I was concerned things were getting out of hand, excessive loss of life and environmental damage may occur. I was not sure what to do with this; I had my concerns, but I was also unwilling to interfere. Especially so now that the only way to stop this sort of thing was personal intervention with individuals, which was far more meddling than merely blocking some wayward missiles or asteroids would be, which was the sort of thing I’d had in mind.  
As I watched the increasingly ridiculous scope of clashes unfold, tens of superpowered men and women crashing into one another like forces of nature, from many factions founded all over the world, I wondered if things could be settled with talking. Some tried it and usually bore the brunt of a violent, energetically charged response from the opposition, hero/villain relations now being reduced to attacking one another on principle, so deep had the hatred become over the years.  They all had so much pent up emotion and energy, always needing to exert it somehow, the barest excuse. Always fearful of the opposition, true rest was rarely coming to them, either. They were all trapped in a cycle of constant escalation.  
One day when I was relaxing a bit, I was watching a rather old film of fictional heroes and villains clashing (at the time the fictional beings had looked impressive, now paling against the excesses of modern superhumanity’s capabilities) over something or other, when an idea hit me. I watched them broker a moot, which fell apart, but it lasted a while. I wondered if it could have gotten somewhere if tempers had been held more in check? Then the idea struck me. These people needed some sort of no man’s land, where they could rest, maybe talk things out if they fancied it, even. A true neutral zone. Something that no nation on Earth could hope to provide.  
But maybe I could.  
I discussed the suggestion at length with my scientists from various departments, but preeminently the psychologists. I noticed hidden smiles from others as I talked enthusiastically about my plans and what could be done. I eventually realised they were happy for me, seeing I had found some sort of purpose. I smiled back.  
The place needed to be well designed, able to bear the brunt of their outbursts. But ultimately, I would be responsible for managing it; my many enhancements and stolen powers meant I was more than a match for any who dared break the peace. An overseer of sorts, like I always had been. Just now, it would be used for maintain a neutrality and allow the wills of others their freedom to be expressed, not to throttle it. The physicists and advanced materials teams designed the functional underlay of it all. But the atmosphere and visuals were also important.  
After much study, argument, and discussion, the decided ideal setting for a neutral, restful zone was… a bar, strangely enough. It would function as a bed and breakfast setting, with beds freely available, but the main draw was the large bar area. Visually designed to mimic a classic English bar, dark coloured wood and leather seating throughout, this had been decided to be the best setting to encourage a relaxed atmosphere in the patrons. When construction was complete, I raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help myself grinning in pleasure at the sight of it. Compared to what I had been used to, it was pretty twee and mundane, but then, maybe what was the appeal. I couldn’t help but appreciate it. I profusely thanked everyone for their help, and we had a party that night, the bar all to ourselves this one night.  
The day of opening had arrived. The set up was perfect, if I did say so myself: my - our - island home was politically neutral from all nations due to its location, and would be readily accessible once I launched the warp in locations which I’d quietly been setting up in the world at large. The bar itself was time dilated, so that those entering and leaving always found it approximate to the time zone of where they had arrived from, so patrons from around the world would all be experiencing the evening bar simultaneously.  
I excitedly put out a new broadcast advertising ourselves, though less intrusive to the population of course. Freely available to all superhumans, faction affiliated or otherwise, our traditional bar would serve as a safe haven when you needed a break from the wears and tears of a newly free world at odds with itself. Verbal sparring was the limit of the altercations that would be permitted.  
The Bar, so it was called, had its inaugural opening evening at 6pm that night. Bewildered and unsure, a few heroes and villains from all corners of the world began to pop in through the warp system. Some were in costume, others in casual dress. They all shifted uncomfortably, speaking little to one another. I decided to break the ice.  
“First drink’s on the house!” I declared loudly, drawing all eyes to me as I swiftly littered the bar with glasses and pitchers, filled with all sorts of ales, beers and wines. Of course, anything anyone asked for could be procured, but I figured they were a bit shy for that. “Of course, all your future drinks will be too, but come on anyway, help yourself!”  
Some of the nervous guests drew near. The first I recognised as Cascademan, wearing his trademark suit of multiple blue hues. He eyed a tall, thin glass of sparkling white, before taking it and touching it to his lips. He gave me a shy nod before backing away.  
In my excitement, I’d all but forgotten my own reputation amongst them all. Now was not the time to crumble, however. I needed to remain strong and confident. What else could a bar owner be? I was the only one here; I had not wanted to risk any of my friends getting injured until we could be sure of their safety. I had to keep the mood lifted, and if necessary, keep order. Naturally, that was when the shouting began.  
The members of two rival factions had gotten into a shouting match, the length and breadth of their rage and insults escalating rapidly. I sighed irritatedly and loudly, hoping to get their attention. The threat was lost on them.  
Magma-Eye was spearheading for his side against Chaoschick (the names sounded a bit silly to me, but it was heavily determined by the publicity angle). Heroes, villains, all the same to me; they often thought it held real weight, but so often villains and heroes argued amongst themselves that to me the distinction was a bit meaningless.  
I made my way through the bar (literally) towards them, others stepping back as I closed in on them. Chaoschick was first to lose her rag, her bizarre energy coursing through her body as she visibly channelled it into her fist. Everyone nearby cowered as she thrust it forwards, expecting to be blasted across the room.  
With a casual wave of my hand, all her energy dissipated into the air. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, the wind taken out her.  
“No. Fighting.” I said, calmly, sure to infuse it with the air of a threat not yet made real. Eyes widened as they looked at me with a mixture of awe and fear.  
“Just… come get some drinks. Chill, relax, chat, whatever. That’s what this place is for!” I told them, cheerfully, before making my way back to the other side of the bar and loudly making some mixers.  
That seemed to break the ice, a couple of more interested looking supers coming closer.
“What you makin’ there?” Whip-Wild asked me.  
“A little number I devised; base of pineapple juice, a shot of tequila, some lemon and lime juice, and the tiniest, teeniest pinch, of liquid nitrogen!” Supers were generally hardier than the average human, even before any wild powers they might possess were part of the equation.  
I finished shaking the drink together, pouring it smoothly into a steel goblet. Mist drifted over the sides as I did so. “Haven’t named it, yet.” I pushed the drink towards him.  
He took it, eyeing it curiously, before putting down a swig. He grimaced at the powerful flavour, before regaining his composure.  
“That there sure is some strong stuff. Thanks, pardner!” He exclaimed excitedly. I grinned, pleased. Nothing like a good, stiff drink for people to commiserate over. “Hey, Steelskin! Come ‘ere, try summa this!”
I cheerfully mixed up and set out more of the drinks all over the bar as the patrons made their way up to the bar, each finding their own drinks and bringing their friends over.  
Magma-Eye and Chaoschick had been left alone awkwardly, their allies having ditched them for making a scene. A pair of drinks made their way into their unwitting hands. They looked at me in confusion, as I just grinned knowingly at them from my behind the bar position.  
They looked at each other, nervously laughing as they both took a sip of their drinks. Chaos smiled appreciatively as Magma inspected it.  
“Uh…” Magma asked, awkwardly. Not really sure how to interact with his arch nemesis outside of a spirited pummelling. “You, uh, like that, then?”  
“Yeah, I do…” They looked around the room in silence. “This is pretty weird, huh?” Chaos said.
Magma nodded. “We did both come here, I guess. We could, um… grab a table?”
“I’m game if you are.” She challenged him, sauntering towards the nearest empty table, sliding into the booth seat.  
I watched as he followed her and sat opposite. Glancing around the room, they seemed to be mingling a bit. Mostly people with more shared interests were keeping to themselves, but it was early days yet. Maybe the tempests around the world would calm a bit, now…  
  It’s been fifty seven years since that night. The Bar is still going strong, more popular than ever. Society is still divisive at times, and likely will be forever to some extent; people will always differ in opinion, and supers will always fight it out, either individually or on behalf of their country or faction.  
But I remain here. Serving drinks and keeping the peace. And I’ve never been happier with my place in the world. I’d like to think in some small way, I’ve atoned for all that I did. I still don’t know, of those who come in here, who’s right and who’s wrong. Maybe no one ever will objectively discover that truth, if it even exists. All I can do is ensure the worst never befalls us all, and maybe just keep things out there just a bit calmer.  
  ~~~  
  The darkness was beginning to lift. Where was I, I wondered… the fog began to lift. I could feel the heavy leather seat supporting my body, and noticed a small table before me. The bustle and bustle of The Bar began to enter my ears. Then everything that just happened came back to me.  
“Ooohh…” I moaned as I felt my head throb. My memories were a total mess; those weren’t mine. Uurgh…  
“I told you to cut it out.” I heavy voice boomed before me. My voice? No, those weird memories… oh. I remember what happened now, I think.  
I stood up, ready to attack the evil MaesterMind before me, before my head swam heavily and I fell back into my seat.  
He shook his head. “Just… stop. Think for a minute. What did I just show you?”  
I couldn’t help but listen. I sat a moment as I woke up properly, remembering everything I’d just dreamed.  
Wow… that was a lot to take in. I groaned as I sunk my head forward into my palm, elbow rested on the table.  
MaesterMind turned and headed back behind his bar, whipping up a quick drink before coming back to me. He put the fizzy picture down in front of me. I took it and downed it.  
“...I hate doing that.” He said.  
“Sorry you had to.” I said. “I just heard things, I guess, and-”  
He raised a hand. “Don’t worry about it.” I turned his head to another commotion elsewhere. He sighed irritatedly. “Shout if you need anything else.” He put on a bit of a forced smile and headed for the commotion.  
As he left, my head thunked onto the table. How could I have been so stupid, trying to arrest freaking MaesterMind. What even for? I waved a hand to get the attention of a passing waitress. She smiled cheerily upon seeing me and approached.  
“Oh, hello Ma’am. I don’t recognise you, are you new here, Miss…?”  
“Jenny-Justice. Can I get something stiff, please?”  
“Yeah, not surprised after the ol’ Maester did that to ya. I know just the thing for ya, girly.” She swiftly headed to the bar.  
Oh, you are a fool, Jenny, I thought to myself...
___
If you read through all this, thank you. Hope it entertained you somehow. Spent long enough writing this that I wanted to put it out somewhere, seeing as it got no response at all on r/WritingPrompts: I guess I took too long writing it and now it’s among many other, probably great takes on this prompt that aren’t among the quicker responses that got upvoted to the top of the comments. It’s just a silly short story, but either way.
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carewyncromwell · 4 years
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Okay I'm here to say, that post about Hogwarts history completely blew my mind. Can we have more Proffesor!Lane? :')
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[Asking the Magical Historian to talk more about history?? Why yes, this pleases Lane very much.
Her lips spread into a crooked smile so like Jacob’s, even though her voice never reaches the levels of energy and volume that her son’s can when he’s geeking out about something.]
“(laughing softly) You’re a sweet ‘un. I’d be happy to...’give another lecture,’ so to speak.”
It’s a lot easier to give lectures through this ‘Askbox’ than presenting things in front of people. It reminds me of my one-on-one lessons with Winnie, before she went to Hogwarts.
“I know...why don’t I tell you a bit about house elf history? I wrote a whole essay presenting the research I collected for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures a few years back. That’s actually how I first got in touch with Bathilda, she sent me a letter after reading my essay...”
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“Now first things first -- primary sources about elf culture are very hard to come by, as elf tradition and history has generally passed down through oral tradition. So most of the research I’ve collected is from second-hand accounts from house elves who were kind enough to lend me their insight and stories -- though I was also lucky enough to track down the journal of a wizard named Ralston Potter, who recorded the events surrounding him freeing his own family’s house elf, Frell.
“House elves are not human, and just like centaurs and goblins, they have their own kind of powerful magic and their own distinct way of seeing the world that differs greatly from our own. Most notably, elves do not use wands to channel their magic the way wizards do. There are...legal reasons for that today, of course, but there’s also history behind it. You might have noticed that underage witches and wizards can cast very powerful magic before receiving a wand. That’s because without a wand, their magic is very volatile. Magic is like fire -- if it’s not controlled, it can cause a lot of damage. And so wands are used to give our magic focus: it’s like a steering wheel that allows us to maneuver our magic wherever we want it to go. If one never receives a wand, or even uses magic without a wand too long, it can be very dangerous, not just for the people around that person, but for that person themselves. It can damage their health and body, and in extreme cases, they could even become an Obscurus.
“For elves, however, they’ve found another way to focus their magic -- not through a wand, but through permanent institutions. In the early days, elves were able to hone their extreme magical talent by focusing all of their abilities on the maintenance of a house or place of business. Their loyalty was not to the family that lived there, but to the place they cared for -- therefore, if the family was ever disrespectful to the elf or its home, the elf could take proper justice on that family. But if the family was kind to the elf, the elf would often return that kindness.
“Unfortunately, with the advent of the Statute of Secrecy at the end of the 17th century, things became much more complicated. In the old days, it didn’t matter what sort of family owned the house an elf cared for -- Muggle or magical, the elf would go on just the same. But as soon as the Wizarding World had to hide all evidence of magic from Muggles, the issue of what to do about the elves living in whatever house they wished became a real problem. The new Ministry of Magic knew it couldn’t compete with elves from a magical perspective -- elves have always been more powerful than wizards, even though their traditions and culture keep that power focused on a singular, concrete purpose like caring for a house or a family, rather than their own advancement. But at the same time, the Ministry couldn’t afford to have the existence of elves exposed to Muggles...and admittedly, many elves had become frustrated by the more rampant lack of respect shown by Muggles who had moved into the homes they occupied. So a compromise was reached -- elves would refocus their magic, not on a house that could pass from person to person, but directly onto a magical family. The magical family could then both offer protection and stability for the elf, so long as they chose to stay with them. At that time, the elf could leave whenever they wanted. This is also around the time when the idea of setting elves free with clothes originates. Although we’re not entirely sure where it came from, one theory among magical historians is that it was symbolic of the house elf’s services no longer being needed. As an example, one can point to the old Muggle fairy tale ‘The Elves and the Shoemaker,’ which, although likely not a historical account, may have been based on something true. The elves’ focus would’ve been on the family owning the shoe shop -- once the family had mastered their trade enough that they could make the elves their own clothes to thank them, the elves realized they were no longer needed, and so left with no regrets.
“Sadly, restricting elves to live only with magical families ultimately gave the elves much less choice about where they could live and what places they could use to focus their magic. If they were set free or left, it proved very difficult for them to find another home. They couldn’t just take up residence wherever they wanted anymore, either -- if they decided to stay even if a family set them free, or if they occupied a space where they weren’t wanted, the Ministry nearly always sided with the witches or wizards in question, since those magical families were now the only ones who could claim any ownership to the house. And as many magical families started to break away from the ideas of blood purity and marry Muggles and Muggle-borns, it became less popular to rely on house elf labor. So now today, elves are placed in a rather unpleasant position. They need a stable environment so as to focus their magic and not only maintain their culture but also their own livelihood...but due to lack of choice, elves have lost a lot of the equal footing they’d had with wizards in centuries past. This has therefore led many magical families to treat elves like servants or even slaves, rather than equals. But simply freeing an elf, or even all of them, wouldn’t solve the inherent problem, for they would still need something permanent that they could use to channel their powerful magic safely. Otherwise the elf’s own life and safety, as well as everyone around them, is put at risk.
“Now the idea of elves owning wands is...a thorny issue. Regardless of my own...personal views about the law forbidding house elves from owning a wand...many elves don’t want to use wands. They see it as a wizard invention exclusively. If they were to use a wand rather than focus magic on institutions or families the way their ancestors have, it would be sacrificing a piece of their culture -- and goodness knows, they’ve already been very detached from their heritage already thanks to wizard interference. But the law itself forbidding elf wand use was completely funded and propagated by wizards who felt deeply threatened by the thought of elves being treated as equals. They enjoyed having elves under their foot, and they had no interest treating them like creatures worthy of respect and an equal say in the Wizarding World and how it’s run. This is not an opinion or conjecture on my part....every single witch and wizard who supported that law -- Cantankerous Nott, Wilhelm Rosier, Josephina Flint, Odo Crouch, Aspen Greengrass -- expressed the belief that elves, if they were given wands, would be too powerful to control and that their subjugation was not only just, but also for the protection of wizardkind. They, to put it very simply, were so afraid of elves being extended the same privileges as wizards that they enshrined their second-class status into wizarding law.”
[Lane brings her hands together, interlacing the fingers solemnly.]
“Now I know a lot of this...isn’t particularly uplifting. Elves’ current position in magical society -- much like that of centaurs and goblins or even beings like werewolves, vampires and hags -- is not very ideal. But there have been some efforts to fight for elf rights, over the years. St. Mungo’s Hospital for Maladies and Injuries has been employing and housing elves for almost two decades now. There are now about a hundred wizard-owned restaurants around the world that are either completely or largely operated by elves. Helga Hufflepuff first brought house elves to Hogwarts back before the Statute of Secrecy was enacted, but when Albus Dumbledore became Headmaster, he introduced some improvements, such as adding a small, dormitory-like space next to the kitchens where the elves could sleep and keep personal belongings. And as our understanding of elf culture improves, so too can our laws and policies regarding them.”
((OOC: HEADCANONS GALORE AGAIN. For anyone who has read my fic Harry Potter and the Lack of Lamb Sauce, this is pretty much the essence of that one abbreviated history lesson Millicent Bulstrode gave Hermione in that one chapter where they discuss elf rights. XDD This also took WAY too long to write out...whew! Seriously, though, Candy love, I’m glad you enjoyed my absolute nerdiness!! *tackle-hug* <333
I’m well aware of the...problematic elements of the house elves’ depiction in the original Potter novels, and although yes, I agree the parallels one can draw are troubling, I also have to point to how goblin and centaur culture are depicted in the Potterverse being distinctly “not-human” (i.e. goblins’ conception of “ownership” being more focused on the creator of the object rather than anyone who inherits it, or in HPHM centaurs requiring offerings in order to have a chance to earn entry into their camp). It’s not out of the realm of possibility, therefore, that elves likewise have their own distinctly “not-human” traditions and culture. And admittedly the idea of Rowling’s house elves seems very inspired by folk tales surrounding the brownie/boggart, as well. But yeah, if you don’t dig this interpretation of mine, I totally get it -- I’m not going to act like I’m any sort of authority here. I’m just a huge nerd with way too much time on her hands who prefers to find ways to make this fictional world she enjoys better rather than double-down on the things she doesn’t like. XD;
In regards to elves using a permanent institution to focus their magic on...my personal headcanon is that Dobby, as a free elf, used Hogwarts and -- once he’d reunited with him -- Harry as that permanent institution. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go cry in a corner.))
Ask Lane Cromwell!
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theyoungkleinwriter · 4 years
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Writing Blind #23: Supernatural Creatures
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Ahh the joys of the unknown, the terrifying speculations of staring into the abyss and wondering what is staring back at us. Now unfortunately the supernatural isn't something that is so easy to define as on a global scale the idea of the supernatural has quite the range. However i find it can be brought down to something that is seen as otherworldly and different from our normal understanding of the natural world. Again this can be argued against as one cultures perception of natural can be seen as very different from another. Also it is important to remember that the supernatural has been a way for mankind to explain the unknown for thousands of years. As such there is a plethora of supernatural creatures we can draw on for inspiration in our writing.
So because the supernatural is so large I’m going to approach one of its smaller aspects, that being supernatural monsters, beasts creatures, demons etc. This is of course important for a lot of writers, especially fantasy writers as these creatures will help to flush out their worlds but also serve to give it a sense of authenticity. After all what's a dangerous magical world without monstrous beasts. I think this aspect actually comes form how we look at the idea of things that are foreign. Supernatural creatures are foreign to us as is a fantasy world so naturally the two fit together quite nicely. Also a lot of fantasy is based in vaguely medieval societies and to encourage familiarity a lot often feature supernatural creatures familiar to that particular setting. That's one of the key purposes supernatural creatures can serve, helping to create a sense of familiarity or vice versa, a feeling of alienation. Here is an example, you writing a world based on feudal Japan and so you use supernatural creatures associated with that culture to help immerse your readers in that world. Now you do this to build the stories world and create familiarity. However if you were to create this world and then have a creature like the Wendigo it would feel out of place and as such you create a feeling of alienation and that something is wrong. Thus you put the reader on edge and make them aware of the danger of that world you created.
Now I am sure you are wondering, where do I look for inspiration for what to use? Well look around, do your research and choose what is most appropriate to your story. Like in the previously mentioned example you could look to what is native to that culture to help. Over the past few millennia hundreds of different cultures have created their own supernatural creatures with a lot of these used to explain away phenomenon that they couldn't properly understand. This is useful as there’s a veritable wealth of information you can use ranging from local folklore to widespread mythological creatures such as the infamous dragon. This is great because a lot of the important information you need about these creatures is already written down for you. Strengths, weaknesses, the whole lot. Just do plenty of research and you will find some creature that is useful to your story. 
Now this builds into another point I want to use. A lot of these creatures didn't simply exist for any reason. And many of them didn't start out the way we know them today, Tackling the first point is that these creature always served a purpose no matter what form they took, whether a local tale or a myth they always served a purpose. In classical Greek mythology many creatures served as difficult obstacles for the heroes to overcome and occasionally serving up moral teachings about not messing with the gods. In other cases the monsters were directly linked to moral stories that were meant to teach by frightening. It’s why there’s the cliché of children being told the story of a monster by firelight. The monsters were messages. So when creating or using supernatural creatures just consider if the monster is part of a moral tale. Personally I find Fafnir a great example of am oral tale of the sickness of greed. This same rule applies to supernatural creatures you create that are brand new and with edgy sounding names.
Moving onto this juicy little topic. Creating your own creatures is of course difficult but one of the better places to start is to consider the real life animals that inspired the creation of these supernatural creatures. Some writers will look at existing supernatural monsters and real life animals and go “yeah, I can make this more horrifying” and thus they create their own terrible monsters unique to their story. However I’ve got bad news. I guarantee your monster isn't entirely original, and that's not a bad thing at all. A big part of serval of the more memorable monster/creature myths is how they evolve. As stories are passed down they lead to changes depending on the era. For example the vampires thought of in the 1800′s are certainly not the same ones imagined in 2020. This is simply because as culture changes and evolves so does its stories and morals. As such characteristics and traits of monsters evolves. Because of this it means new monster will actually take inspiration from existing ones. Its not even the author or readers fault. As people we work on pattern recognition, its why we see shapes in the dark. Because of this pattern recognition we look to find familiar details in supposedly new creature designs. I am very guilty of this as one I created essentially took inspiration from old folklore tale of lycanthropy.
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One more thing to consider is that supernatural creatures do not have to be unrecognisable demonic creations. After all the most infamous ones are the ones that look just like us; vampires werewolves etc. Now their horror comes from how they can blend in with the rest of us but still, it shows an understanding that supernatural creatures can be humanoid and even alluring.
Ultimately I think supernatural creatures is a topic I definitely need to expand on a great deal in the future. So consider this a brief introduction into some key concepts and ideas surrounding the topic. I mean you don’t even need to limit yourself to myths, you could use religious tales to find creatures too. For example the bible has several iconic creatures such as the Leviathan to use. But do be careful when using religious creatures. Since then you really are playing a risky games of selection. 
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fibula-rasa · 6 years
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The Vamps Part 3: Pola Negri and Exoticism
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CW: I will be referencing the Roma in this essay and the slur g*psy will pop up from historical sources.
In the first post of this series, I mentioned that modern critics draw a deeper connection between Vamps and bloodsucking vampires than existed in the teens. So, forgive me that this Vamps entry is going to focus on another trait often shared between Vamps and vampires: otherness. In the Bram Stoker tradition, the undead-other and the foreign-other coincide. Stoker didn’t invent the concept, but Dracula and its Eastern European evil infiltrating the west has informed most vampire stories since his novel was published.
Likewise, Vamps are often explicitly foreign or vaguely coded as such. Most often this foreignness is steeped in a stereotypical conception of the East. This East at the time was really anything east of Western Europe, from Slavs to East Asians. As you could probably surmise–it’s usually problematic and insulting. Although, since Vamps were an international phenomenon, this is by no means universal.
Enter Pola Negri.
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Pola Negri was born Apolonia Chalupiec in Lipno (now Poland) in 1897 to a single mother. Her Slovak father was a resistance fighter sent to prison in Siberia when Negri was a small child. Now, according to Negri, her mother was from an impoverished line of Polish nobility and her father had “probably more than a touch of the bohemian gypsy in his blood.” This is probably made up. Negri averred these “biographical” details when building her image in America and reaffirmed them in her memoirs, published in 1970. It’s hard to put an exact date on when and where these fictions emerged in her life or in her career. I can speak from experience that Polish-Americans often love relating embellished tales of their ancestry, so this may have been Pola, the person, as much as it is Pola, the movie star. If it’s the latter, it would be very Pola. No one before or since has committed to a bit quite like her.
Pola started out as a successful ballet dancer in Warsaw and transitioned to acting after she fell ill with tuberculosis. She took on the name Negri after a favored Italian poet, Ada Negri. Pola found significant success on the Polish stage and she made the leap to the new medium of film in the presumed lost Slave of Sin / Niewolnica zmysłów (1914). (Yes, she did all that by 17.)
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In Pola’s only surviving Polish film, The Polish Dancer / Bestia (1917), she’s an energetic young woman who stays out too late partying. After Pola flees her parents’ home, she becomes a cabaret dancer and manages to throw the lives of two men into chaos. So, Pola was cast in vampy roles from the very start. Bestia’s Vamp tale is a bit more sophisticated than a simple morality play though. Pola is a strong-willed and independent woman taking advantage of weaker men. But, Pola feels remorse. She’s a woman who carries trouble with her wherever she goes, but simply because she doesn’t hold with society’s standards and expectations for women. Whether or not Pola is the bestia (beast) referred to in the title is definitely up for debate. Pola is more a careless Vamp than a malicious one, as Theda Bara is in A Fool There Was (1914). This, of course, doesn’t save her characters from a tragic end. Pola’s Polish roles are very much akin to the types of vampy tragediennes Greta Garbo would soon stake her claim on in America.
Though Pola had played a few exotic roles in Poland, on stage and screen, it was moving to UFA in Germany that brought those roles in spades. Her success was middling in Germany until she met Ernst Lubitsch. I would liken the Negri-Lubitsch team up much like Jack Lemmon and Billy Wilder. Lemmon and Negri are both quite good on their own, but pairing with Wilder and Lubitsch brought out the absolute best in the performers. For UFA, Pola’s vampy image began to crystalize and along with that came the exotic, ethnic bent. In films like Carmen (1918) and Sumurun (1920) she plays a Romani Vamp and and “Oriental” Vamp, respectively. These films distilled the image of Pola as an agent of havoc in weak-willed men’s lives that was introduced in some of her Polish films.
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The embargo on German films to America was lifted in 1919, partly due to the huge popularity of Pola’s film Madame DuBarry (1919). Pola’s impact on the American movie market was instant and many of her German films were bought up for American distribution. After an unofficial endorsement from Charlie Chaplin, Pola was signed to a contract with Famous Players-Lasky (soon to be Paramount).
Despite Pola arriving hot on the scene, the studio struggled to build her image. Pola was a new quantity. She was Hollywood’s first explicitly foreign star. A lot of effort was put into assuaging the xenophobia of American movie fans, while also highlighting her exotic nature. (Yes. In 1921, Poles were exotic.) If you recall from the Theda Bara post, in the early days of the star system the performer’s star image tied directly into the roles they played. If Negri was going to play all these femmes fatales from “the East” they couldn’t couldn’t wholly whitewash her Slavic ancestry. She’s quoted as saying at the time:
“They do not understand me. I am a child of my race, a Slav. I have no the restraint of the Anglo-Saxon.”
Essentially, Hollywood worked out the kinks of developing foreign stars for the American market with Pola. Pola was out there paving the way for Garbo once again.
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Of course, Pola’s American career wasn’t a complete mess. She still made popular films–notably blockbuster Hotel Imperial (1927), directed by Garbo’s first champion, Mauritz Stiller. Pola and Paramount struggled to manage her image regardless of box office successes. Finding the line between the dramatic emotionality of Pola’s characters and the dramatic emotionality of the actress herself was difficult. A series of missteps regarding her relationship with Rudolph Valentino and his untimely death and then her untimely marriage to an impoverished Russian prince put her in a tough spot. On top of all that, talking pictures were roaring into theaters and there was likely concern about Pola’s viability as a talkie star.
But, after her divorce from said prince, Pola faced the microphone and surprisingly it was her singing that revived her faltering career. With the success of the song “Paradise” from A Woman Commands (1932), Pola hopped back over to Europe where she resumed working for the studio that made her a star: UFA. If you know anything about Germany in the 1930s, you can probably predict that these years were complicated for Pola. Hitler was fond of her work, even though her Aryanness couldn’t be proven. Pola arranged to live in France while working for UFA, but it was an arrangement built to bust. In 1938, she returned to the US and chose semi-retirement from film. Pola was getting older and the Vamp archetype that was originally her bread and butter had gone stale. In the end, I feel that many of Pola’s Vamps are the branching off point for the femmes fatales we know and loves from films noir of the 1940s and 50s.
To me, it says so much about who Pola was that she was always so willing to walk away from film. She didn’t seem to have much invested in being a huge star. Not that there’s anything wrong with that drive, but it’s such a modern-seeming departure from how film stars were managed and presented by studios in early Hollywood. Pola’s star image may have been centered on her exoticism, but it’s her fierce independence that I find so compelling.
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Learn How to Get the Look BELOW THE JUMP
The Costume
Number one most important thing with a Pola costume: do not dress up as a stereotypical representation of a Romani woman. Just don’t. There’s a lot more to pull from that isn’t insulting an entire ethnic group.
The Makeup
Pola’s trademark is her heavy lids. Carve out a distinct shape with your eyes and use a dark shade almost up to your eyebrows. Use colors by all means, especially a shade that might make your eyes look deeper. For me, that’s using another shade of green. For you, it might be a blue or brown or purple. Now Pola regularly sported a glossy eye, which absolutely adds to the heavy lid look. Glossy lids, regardless of which product you’re using, is not going to last long. If you’re going out in this costume, you might want to opt for a fine shimmer as I did. That way, you won’t have to worry about touch ups.
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Pola’s eye makeup somehow looks both mournful and judgmental. She’s somehow always looking down her nose at you even if she’s looking out from under her eyebrows.
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The eyebrows should be distinctly drawn in though not super thick and curved to match  Heavy lids, long curved eyebrows. Like Theda Bara, leave the blush behind. Pola also had a beauty mark under her left eye that she often drew in for high contrast. I drew one on using the same dark brown shade I used on my brows.
As for lips, go with a thin silhouette and focus more on a sharp shape than a soft pout. Pola often wears a gloss over her lipstick–likely almond oil or petroleum jelly.
The Hair
Pola most often stuck to curly or wavy bobs. In some films Pola leans more toward a lob, which is trendy today, so you very well might have the appropriate hair cut already! I think I would do a full wet set if I were to tackle this look again, but I think the curling wand did an okay job. How neat you want to make the waves or curls is totally dependent on which film you want to mimic. I was going for Die Bergkatze / The Wildcat (1920) so unruly was the way to go.
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Of course, Pola was high-key into turbans and headscarves. So, that’s an option.
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The Clothes
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This is where Pola makes it easy on modern imitators. She has a great range of (non-appropriative) costumes to choose from. I tried to recreate her mountain-dwelling attire from The Wildcat. But if you go back and look at her dance costume from Bestia (seen above), she rocks a very modern-looking gothy look. So, I’d recommend checking out a few of her films (some of her work with Lubitsch is currently on Filmstruck *nudge* *nudge*) then look in your closet and make an adventure of it. And remember, nothing is too over the top for Pola.
Read Part Two
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pepperstrawberry · 5 years
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Anime or not to Anime...
This post got looong. So, yeah Pepper rant and ramble. Going to put it all under the cut. X3
So... a post thing that happened earlier reminded me of one of my biggest pet peeves: What is and isn’t an ‘anime’.
So... while ‘anime’ can -generally- be used as an identifier of animations made in Japan, it’s really just another word that muddles the conversation.
Anime is literally a borrow word from English: A NI ME SHION. Animation.
Yes, I know for the most part this is common knowledge, but it isn’t often -applied- as common knowledge.
Often when folks are in a discussion, a debate, or even an argument about Anime, it’s often used as a hard line ‘style’ or ‘medium’.
Anime is neither.
Animation is a medium the world over. And every part of the world has different approaches, attitudes, and styles within the medium that effects the local ‘crop’ that is produced.
but we live in an interconnected, global world. Have for many years. So we effect each other, by trope, by culture, by style. Hell even before ‘Anime’ came over here, Osamu Tezuka was inspired and influnced by Disney. ‘Anime’ was effected by American cartoons (which weren’t always a word for ‘animation for children, that connotation came later, and even became a bit of a degragotory term. as if ‘cartoons are for kids and we don’t have to try to make it quality’).
Now, I can’t remember if one came first or the other (and I”m too lazy at the moment to do a google search), but either things like the Hanna Barbera cartoons where influenced by the cost saving tricks that Anime learned, or the other way around, but America and Japan have actually been very influential for much longer then what we think. 
Trying to draw a specific line between what’s Japanese and what is American (or even what comes from anywhere else) as a specific way to categorize what should and shouldn’t look a certain way only muddies the conversation about animation.
Yes, when it comes to talking about certain works, or cultural impact, or how culture can effect a work, place can matter. But when arguing what is and isn’t an ‘anime’, I want you to remember one thing:
In japan? IT’S ALL ANIME.
They might say American Anime like we say ‘Japanese Anime’, but the only reason why they would use something like Cartoon is similar to how we use ‘anime’, that is to short hand -where- a show comes from.
That’s it. Where. Not animation style or anything. Because there is no reason. Sure, some of our stuff they might look down on, and some of thier stuff isn’t all that hot too.
You know why?
Because there isn’t a single monolithic animation studio in American OR Japan. We both have many animation studios. Plural. With many different styles tackled. Some focus on specific styles and tropes, some can be all over the place.
Like, Disney tends toward pretty homogonistic work (tends, not always), and similarly, Kyoto Animation (kyoani) tends to be the same way.
But the on the other hand, we have things like Cartoon Network Studios and Bones that handle a lot of different styles.
Yes, I know there is a lot of hairs we can split about that, but my base point is: If I am asked is ‘Korra’ an anime, or if it’s not. I don’t know my answer.
Going by the approach of the style, I would say yes.
But going by country it was made, I would say no.
And in the end, does it matter? No. Because both answers are right. Neither is really wrong. Because, again, the word ‘anime’ is only really special to us in american. We try to pigeon hole it as if it described a style.
And sure, there is still that ‘country of origin’ argument... accept 1) Folks from japan worked on it and Avatar to some extent.
And more importantly, both have a lot of the grunt work done in Korea. Seriously. Like, the more you try to define it specifically to use the word, the more you either make the word meaningless or leave out things you thought were ‘anime’.
I’m not saying ‘lets not use it’, cause in general usage, it is useful. It’s easy to -generally- point to something and say ‘that’s anime’ and generally mean ‘it was created in japan’.
I’m just saying getting all pedantic and bent out of shape about it is a fruitless waste of time when we can have more intelligent and interesting conversations.
Like: Was an element or style used well in this or that show? Was there problematic elements. Was it fun? Well animated? Did whatever style was chosen, no matter country of origin, fit the tone needed to carry the story being told. Where did they cut on the budget and did it pay off or only make things worse?
Example: The Dragon Prince. Is it anime? I don’t care. It’s style works well enough for what they are going for. My issue with it is that they tried to use a trick to make it look like 2d animation by cutting out some frames. Worked well for the action scenes but made the slower scenes somehow way herky jerky and made the whole thing feel like a really cheep production.
(I would dredge up some japanese animation examples, but I’ve been out of the loop, and it’s been years since I binged much. only recently watched Heroman all the way through and working on My Hero Academia. And by the by, where does Heroman fall? Sure, it’s made in japan, but conceived by Stan Lee. And I’m sure if we dug a bit, we could find more fun examples of that.)
My bottom line here is, for general purposes, using ‘anime’ for what looks and feels like anime should be fine. It’s like using ‘sci fi’ or ‘fantasy’. It’s less about the exactness of the tropes or style used, and more like this difficult to define ‘that’ that we look at a thing and see.
Oh, also: Manga, also known as ‘Manhwa’ in Korea, means ‘sequential art’. I.E. COMICS. Same thing. And again, my entire spiel above? Applies here too. LIke, putting it all under ‘its manga’ only serves to try and say where its from... but the trouble with that is even more then with Anime/cartoons there are a crap ton of artists influenced as much if not more by those that created stories we like from japan as much as those from America.
And saying ‘manga style’ doesn’t help. Which style? Japanese influenced I can go for, but it is a mouth full.
I think my main argument is we are hitting a point of media saturation where the argument for Anime and Manga (aside from a very basic short hand) is loosing any real meaning.
Tropes, style, inspirations. These are more interesting to discuss. Which japanese or american artists (or even others) were you influenced by is much better angle of discussion if going deeper then the most basic general audience knowledge base.
If you are an artist, and I am an artist and we are discussing art, I think the second we start trying to parse out what is or isn’t anime outside of that layman level, it’s best to stop worrying about it. I think it’s more interesting to discuss what directly influenced RWBY beyond just ‘anime’. And how well did it use those influences.
I mean, look at WB. Teen Titans really -tried- to reference and be all ‘super deformed kawaii’ and in that ended up in tone whiplash with some of the more heavier story elements. Sometimes it does it well like Trigun did**, and many many other times? Yeah. But then look at all the other shows they have made since.I love Young Justice. Granted it doesn’t get as super looney tunes/super deformed kawaii silly with it’s jokey-ness, but it does still have a sense of humor at times and does very well. If we stuck with the ‘is it anime’ just going by style alone, I would say ‘yes’. The shading, the way they make many of the battles. It really works like that. It’s just it wasn’t created in Japan.
So yeah. Basically what I”m saying is, if you start trying to split hairs about what is or isn’t anime with me, your wasting your time. It’s not that it isn’t an interesting question on it’s own (that could do with a lot of research to see who influenced what. I’m sure there is more of a rabbit hole then I have already touched on); but when arguing about shows themselves, it’s just a waste of energy when we could be having more fun discussing the show itself.
(**I have always felt, no matter japanese, american, or anywhere, that show balanced its tone shift amazingly. top marks... granted, the ending was kinda... abrupt, but that is a common problem and I think it even handled that decently well given the situation)
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citiesalight-writes · 6 years
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Unwind
Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku no Hero Academia
Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina, Kirishima Eijiro
Relationships: Platonic Bakusquad (Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta)
This isn’t explicitly shippy, so take away whatever ships you want!
Rating: G
Tags & Warnings: Domestic Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Platonic Cuddling, Cuddle Pile
Summary: They're not sure how it all started, but one way or another they became accustomed to the constant touches, tangled limbs, the feeling of warm bodies pressed against their sides.
AO3 Mirror | Ko-fi
Dedicated to @matamisin Thank you for making me realize just how much I love the Bakusquad as well as all the amazing art you create
They're not sure how it started. Maybe it was Ashido and her penchant for cuddle piles, flopping onto whomever her current target was and not moving no matter how much they struggled. There's also Kirishima, draping himself over his classmates and allowing the tension to seep from his muscle, wrapping his arms around them in a hug to keep himself upright. Bakugou would just claim a spot as his, and if someone didn't move quickly enough he'd lounge directly on top of them with a few quick jabs to stop them from moving too much. And Sero would stand at someone's side so that if they were tired, they'd be able to lean against him and he'd carry them to a couch or their dorm if need be. Meanwhile, Kaminari had the habit of knocking on someone's door in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep, silently entering the room once given permission and curling up in their bed.
But no matter how it started, one thing lead to another and now they were often found tangled up on a bed or couch or, on one memorable occasion, in all the pillows and blankets from the spare dorms that came together to build a formidable pillow fort. It was Kaminari's and Ashido's idea, and they received a thorough scolding from Iida and promised to never do it again.
Currently, they were curled up on Kaminari's bed; Sero at the bottom of the pile, resting on his stomach and taking a quick nap; Kaminari tucked under his arm as Kirishima watched him play Pokemon over his shoulder from his position sprawled across Sero's back; and Bakugou and Ashido were back to back on Sero's other side, Bakugou using Kirishima's back as a place to set his school work as Ashido typed away on her phone, reclined back and forcing Bakugou into a hunched position.
A comfortable silence filled the room, only broken by the occasional scritch of pencil on paper, tap of a button, or light snore. It felt peaceful, something that was getting increasingly harder to achieve as the days wore on.
A few moments later, a gurgling sound shattered the quiet and Kirishima couldn't help the way his cheeks flushed.
"Sounds like someone's hungry," Kaminari joked, sending the redhead a teasing smile.
Setting down his half finished homework, Bakugou stretched and leaned back, forcing Ashido to curl into a ball and ignoring her disgruntled whining. "What time is it, anyway?"
"Almost 9," Ashido replied to the explosive blond, her pout audible.
"So who's making dinner?" Kaminari asked before a grin twisted his lips and he quickly called out, "Not it!"
"Not it!" "Not it." Kirishima and Ashido were not far behind and Bakugou couldn't help the tired groan that escaped him.
"I'll do it. 'Sides, who knows what you fuckers would try to pass off as food?" Climbing off the bed, he stretched his arms above his head and rolled his neck, letting out a quiet hum as his joints popped.
"And I'm making miso so I better not hear any complaints from the peanut gallery, got it?" At the sounds of agreement, he placed a hand on Sero's waist, shaking him in an effort to wake him.
"Hey Elbow Tape, get up. You're helping me with dinner."
The tape hero let out a groan, slowly sitting up much to the disappointment of everyone else on the bed. "'M up, 'm up." A yawn escaped him as he got to his feet, sending Bakugou a tired smile as the blond rolled his eyes before leaving the room, Sero not far behind.
The three remaining students curled up once again, Kirishima with an arm around Kaminari's waist, both of their heads resting in Ashido's lap as the all watched Kaminari continue his game.
Sero rested a hand on Bakugou's hip, keeping the boy steady as he leaned against him and waited for the soup to finish. Another yawn escaped the smaller boy and Sero couldn't help the small chuckle that bubbled out of his chest.
Bakugou scowled, elbowing him but there was no real force behind the display.
"Grab some bowls and spoons." His voice was quiet, in heavy contrast with his normal loud way of speaking. But Sero did as he was asked, grabbing enough for the five of them. A brief glance at Bakugou sent a spike of worry running through his veins as he lifted the still hot pot with only his bare hands, but the rational part of his mind told him he was fine. After all, Bakugou's hands were calloused and used to heat after over 10 years of near daily explosions.
Few words were exchanged as they headed back up to Kaminari's room—pot and bowls in hand—Sero close by in case Bakugou felt the need to lean on him, his free hand on his hip to keep him steady.
After they'd finished off the miso soup and their dirty dishes were stacked by the door to be taken out later, Kaminari decided to fire up one of his consoles, sitting on his bed and starting Twilight Princess over for the nth time.
Ashido and Kirishima were sitting on the floor, the redhead draped bonelessly against her as his eyes darted between the TV and the mobile game on her phone. She's focused, brow furrowed in concentration and he tightened the arms around her waist as if in encouragement.
One misplaced tap and she groaned and dropped her phone, frustration obvious. Kirishima nosed her hair as she slumped against him, taking one wrist into his hand and drawing soothing circles.
Sero's reclined against the wall, only half paying attention to the game on the TV. A lazy smile pulled at his lips as his gaze drifted over the four others in the room before returning back to the screen, fondness obvious in his eyes.
And Bakugou...
"Move, Sparky." Kaminari didn't even get the chance to save his game before Bakugou shoved him to the bed and sat on his chest, eliciting a squawk from the electric hero. He tried to shove him off but all he got in return was a handful of swats as Bakugou made himself comfortable and rested against the headboard, starting once again on his school work.
Resigned to his fate, Kaminari groaned, glancing around him to try and find something to occupy his time until Bakugou decided that he wasn't the most comfortable chair.
His eyes landed on Ashido watching him from the floor, a smirk twisting her face with mirth.
Oh no.
"Wait! Ashi-"
"Cuddle pile!" With that, she all but vaulted onto the bed, tackling Bakugou as a harsh 'what the fuck-' escaped his lips before the air was pushed from his lungs.
Sero and Kirishima weren't far behind, jumping onto the pile as well as the three traitors' laughs filled the room.
"The fuck was that for, Raccoon Eyes?" He glared at her, the look on his face promising murder; but it was soon replaced by annoyance as he glared at Kaminari's hand as he patted him on the shoulder.
"Can you guys move? I can't breathe." He punctuated this with a gasp, struggling to wiggle out from under them but thoroughly stuck.
Giving him sheepish apologies, they crawled off of him, instead taking up space on the other end of the bed. Bakugou let out a quiet 'fucking idiots' before he shifted and gave him the sweet sweet freedom and air he craved.
He took deep breaths, gaze shifting between all of them in indignation. "You could've kill me, you know." The three laughed at his dramatics, and even Bakugou gave a small chuckle as a smile pulled at Kaminari's lips.
Carefully this time, they tangled themselves together until it was difficult to tell where one ended and another began, relaxing as a comfortable silence filled the room once more
Kaminari didn't know what time it was; all he was aware of was his knuckles rapping on a door. The corridor was dark, the other students having fallen asleep long ago.
He knocked again.
There was the soft pad of footsteps before the door in front of him opened, revealing an exhausted Bakugou. With only a quick look at him, he sighed before opening the door wider and allowing the other blond to enter his room.
Kaminari darted to his mattress, curling under the blankets before Bakugou even closed his door. More soft footsteps that stopped at the edge of the bed before another sigh resounded throughout the room. "Move over, Pichu."
Kaminari did as he was asked, shifting until the was just enough room for Bakugou to slip under the covers as well.
An arm draped itself across his waist before he felt himself get pulled closer to the body behind him, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes grew heavy.
"Sleep well, Kaminari."
He didn't rouse from any dreams for the rest of the night.
They're not sure how it all started, but one way or another they became accustomed to the constant touches.
The tangled limbs.
The feeling of warm bodies pressed against their sides.
Somehow managed to write this in less than 12 hours without any sleep in the last 36. I’m pretty proud with how it turned out, all things considered
Also, you can pry physically affectionate Bakusquad from my cold, dead hands
Message me on my main ‘cause I’m way more active there, and check out Matamisin ‘cause they’re awesome
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Character Creation Tag
I wasn’t tagged directly, but I saw @kainablue do this and it looks really creative/cool. I love talking about my OCs (mainly my MC, but I’ve just created two more to add to the canonverse).
I’ll be filling this out for Schuyler, of course, since she’s the MC of her long winded tale.
1) What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?
Her gender. She’s in a male dominated society/community/organization with some backwards or outdated views of women. Her being such a strong and prominent woman in the story is going to change those views. Next would have been backstory as I had to fight tooth and nail against canon in order to get her introduced to the canonverse. Then character. Name was last and actually the hardest. I knew the general character I wanted nearly from the beginning, but the name had to fit and really mean something.
2) Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?
Most canon MCs because I knew I wanted her to have deep relationships with each on an individual level as well as her parents who I created as OCs to fit into the canon story.
3) How did you choose their name?
I knew I needed a generic western European name. One that was strong and looked cool helped. I also wanted one that could be easily turned into a nickname. Schuyler (Sky) fit perfectly.
4) In developing their backstory, what elements of the world that they live in played the most influential parts?
The culture surrounding the club. She was designed to be the black sheep, but she also had to be accepted if she was ever to be allowed to join. It’s a balancing act to say the least.
5) Is there any significance behind their hair color?
I just like blondes. Also, for her character design I wanted the “Idealistic” or “perfect” female lead in terms of her looks for American/white standards. Spoiler: The progression of the story shows that she is anything but idealistic as far as her personality/character.
6) Is there any significance behind their eye color?
Again, blue eyes. Kinda typical white girl or idealistic. Operating in an non-idealistic or unsophisticated world.
7) Is there any significance behind their height?
Good height beside her partners and other characters I suppose.
8) What (if anything) do you relate to within their character/story?
I love the canon story and the characters she adopts as family. She’s a strong female lead that I, as a reader/creator, respect greatly. Her love of animals and food for sure. We’re also both from Texas, but this has standing reasons in canon.
9) Are they based off of you, in some way?
Blond hair, blue eyes, curvy, stubborn, from the south, GNC. But she’s way stronger and way more confident than myself. She’s a leader which I really respect.
10) Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation? 
For the most part. Sex is part of the culture she was raised in. Of course, she’d be a player because she was raised by players alongside players. Her best friend is a total lady’s man. Sex became a competition between them. She doesn’t see gender, race, or size. Sex is just a common everyday occurrence. An activity or a fun thing to do to pass the time. Because her whole club is into the “casual sex” scene it is also expected as part of the culture.
While she respects her partners to a certain degree unlike her brothers she still isn’t capable or interested in commitment at the start of the story which is very similar to the rest of the cast. And I started the story idea with the intention of, spoilers, her ending up in a poly triad relationship with two men (I’ve always been interested and curious to tackle such a relationship dynamic in writing), so her being bisexual made the most sense for her story.
Her gender orientation is a different subject. I knew she had to be female to break the social norms of the canonverse. However, she’s not a priss or a girlie girl. And I wanted her character to be more meaningful than a normal ‘tomboy’. Not that there’s anything wrong with writing either character type. Yet, starting with a closeminded group and having no previous experience writing for NB, agender, or transgender characters, I decided that GNC was the term that fit Schuyler the best. It’s a term I believe she herself would be the most likely to use and thus it was chosen. 
11) What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?
Creating her voice in dialogue. I know how she thinks, but as a writer I’m kinda new to dialogue. I’m getting better and it gets more natural with every edit or new scene, but creating a voice from scratch (not a FF/canon character) has been an experience.
12) How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?
From Schuyler’s birth to canon. Including family linage and setup for canon events leading into the story. As well as several weeks after canon ends. I’m planning on adding a few chapters in between canon time jumps which would also deviate from canon and maybe lead to some changes, but have yet to draft them as I’m still in the drafting phase of the project.
My WIP TROD follows the story of SOA from the pilot to the final ride. With this in mind, though I plan to use a majority of storylines and respect the canon, it can be viewed as a sort of AU and I plan to add as many original characters/scenes/maybe a story arc(?) to make it my own and interesting to fans who have seen the show a million times. I want my readers to be entertained from start to finish.
13) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?
1) Respect canon & 2) Schuyler is a leader not a background character or follower 
14) What is something about your OC that can make you laugh?
She’s generally suppose to be a funny character with a good sense of humor. Being a woman, she’s suppose to be level headed and fight with words before using fists. However, she has a habit of taking on the biggest guy in the room and hilarity ensures.
15) What is something about your OC that can make you cry?
Her backstory maybe? It has some dark spots. As far as the actual story, nothing (has yet) happens to her, but many things happen around her that she can’t always control or that effect her/her family deeply.
16) Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?
I'll let you know when I find it. Still in the drafting or honeymoon phase with her character. I just thinks she’s great all around!
17) What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?
She has a sweet tooth! While she’s attractively curvy and built a little bigger than the other females in the story she never gains weight no matter what she eats. This is most likely due to the fact that she tends to have a healthy relationship with food even when she binges sweets.
18) What is your favorite fact about your OC?
It takes a long time and a lot of trust for her to form real lasting bonds with people, but once they form there’s no going back. She’d kill or die for those she loves and deems as family.
I tag: @failbetterwriting, @boredwriter-16, @themildestofwriters, @squaaad-goals, @turtwig387, @thatfizzyyyy, @sashathewriter, @tiredbard, @moony-wolfstar-padfoot, @rhikasa, @allisonilluminated, @annelaurant-writing, @leave-her-a-tome, @durzarya, @ryebbread, @aspire2bu, & @lone-mezzo-of-the-mezzorealm, as well as anyone else working on a WIP/OC who sees this and wants to participate!
No pressure if you’ve already done this or have no interest in doing so. I’m just saying hi! This is a list of some of the blogs I often see in my notifications and some writers who I know are in the middle of some cool projects of their own. Have fun!
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housebeleren · 5 years
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War of the Spark New Commanders
It’s now that time. Time to figure out if I feel like turning any of these new Legendary Creatures into Commander decks. And since the *ahem* Rules Committee decided not to allow Planeswalkers as generals, I’ll have to be content with just the creatures. (I mean, c’mon. Really?!)
With that, let’s get started. There are some goodies to review.
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Let’s start with Dragon Daddy Niv. Honestly, I’m really digging this design. He’s a 5 color general, but actually makes use of those 5 colors unlike certain other generals I can mention. *coughNajeelacough* This design also makes you have to think about deck design in a very interesting way, since you’re incentivized to put as many 2 color cards in the deck as possible. I went right ahead and put him at the helm of my Superfriends deck, because he’s a pretty strict upgrade over Jodah. And I typically draw 2-3 cards off casting him in that deck, so I feel pretty good about that choice. Overall, I really love the design for Niv-Mizzet Reborn, and I can imagine a wide range of decks being built for him.
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Okay, now let’s get this out of the way, because this is obviously the Legend that got the most initial attention for EDH, and rightfully so. This is fantastic new design space for Boros, which is a notoriously difficult color combination in the format. And the possibilities are endless. Sure, you can throw all kinds of cantrips at Feather and dig deep into your deck, but there’s also fun stuff you can do with cards like Aurelia’s Fury, that can target multiple targets. And forget about it once you have Zada on the field. Then it just gets insane. I look forward to seeing all the different options people come up with, and I’m also just happy that Feather finally got a card.
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Aside from being some absolutely gorgeous art, Roalesk packs a lot of action for 5 mana. For one, he’s huge just on his own. But the fact that he can spread the love on ETB and when he dies is just fantastic. That said, I definitely see Roalesk as a supporting player, and not so much as a lead. He’s a great inclusion in Ezuri, Claw of Progress decks, and I can also see builds of Atraxa being very interested. That deck has access to numerous ways to retrigger both the ETB & death abilities, so this could be a powerful proliferate engine if done right. Every general needs a lieutenant, right?
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I like Storrev. I really do. I truly wish there was a format that really wanted this. But, alas, in Commander we have Meren of Clan Nel Toth, and I just don’t think Storrev is going to supplant her anytime soon. Maybe some Meren or Karador decks will find space for her as some added redundancy, but I’m not holding my breath. (Which is good, because a Zombie Elf Wizard is likely to beat me at a breath-holding contest.)
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Another absolutely gorgeous piece of artwork, our final Gold Legend is... wolf tribal? Huh, I guess that’s a thing? This is definitely a Standard card, and I don’t really see this making any waves in EDH unless they come out with a ton of sweet wolves in the upcoming sets. I will say, between Tolsimir & Arlinn, this does give me some optimism that there will be wolves in the Fall set. Because wolves tribal in Standard is totally a deck I would play.
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Alright, let’s tackle the gods next. Oketra, while an absolute monster of a beating in Limited, and a Standard powerhouse, doesn’t strike me as all that potent as a Commander on her own. Now, will Varina decks potentially be interested in this? Why, yes they will. And potentially any other creature-heavy go-wide decks might be down. But Oketra is definitely built for the 99.
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Blue mages everywhere collectively nerdgasmed when Kefnet was previewed. I think there’s no doubt that Kefnet will likely have the largest impact on Commander from cards in this set. There’s already talk of him supplanting Teferi as the mono-Blue general of choice for CEDH, and that’s no easy feat. But honestly, this is exactly what every Blue deck wants to do! I’ve already slot him directly into my Aminatou deck manipulation build, where he goes infinite with her plus any extra turn spell. As the headliner or in the chorus, Kefnet is going to be an EDH staple for years to come. And that’s to say nothing of the impact he’ll have on Standard.
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I’m glad not all of the gods are instant hits. Bontu is great, make no mistake. And there will definitely be Big Black decks that want this. But I don’t think she’s going to be an auto-include, and I also don’t think there are many good reasons to run her as the Commander of a deck over some of the better mono-Black options. Bontu is a clear role player in several builds. I, for one, will probably slot her right away into my Gisa & Geralf deck. And I suspect many will do the same.
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Doing this slightly out of order, which is difficult because one compulsion is telling me to keep all the God-Eternals together, while another compulsion is telling me to do all 5 gods in color order. It’s rough up in here.
I guess every family needs a disappointing sibling, right? It’s crazy to think that a card like this could be a “disappointment,” but in the world of EDH, this reads like a mediocre Craterhoof impersonation. I’d honestly rather run End-Raze Forerunners more often than this, because the Trample is just so. relevant. I think there’s potential for Standard, and he’s undoubtedly a bomb in Limited, but that’s about the long & the short of it, from what I can see.
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Ilharg is fun, and totally reminds me of Etali, Primal Storm, except for the part that they’re not actually that much alike. Okay, they are both 6/6 mono-Red Legendary creatures with an attack trigger, so that’s kinda similar. That said, I think Ilharg really wants to be a supporting cast member in a multicolor deck, with Green in it at the very least. You really want to power out huge creatures with ETBs with this guy. Again, Craterhoof comes to mind. It’s like that card is good or something.
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Let’s keep going on this mono-Red train. New Neheb is fun, and a nice callback to the previous version. That said, I do think Neheb, the Eternal is probably a stronger general, as this version has the potential to get brick-walled by good blockers. Basically, the likelihood for this Neheb to fail seems greater than I’d like. Who knows, though. I could be wrong, and Dreadhorde Neheb could be the new hotness.
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The string of “not quite as good as their previous versions” continues. Again, I do kinda love this design. But it’s really hard to compete with Double Trouble Krenko from before. Maybe they want to be in the same deck? But even that seems like a bit of a stretch.
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Tomik is family and we never turn our backs on family, hon! You ride that gargoyle off into the sunset, you fabulous queen you. Also, I can’t be the only one who thinks it’s a bit on the nose to have the confirmed gay (and suspected top) and-I-quote “tie it into knots”? I mean, I could’ve told you Ral was into some kinky shit just from looking at him (e-stim much?), but apparently they’re just super about this life on Ravnica and I am here for it hennnnnny. 
Oh, the card. Yeah, stick to Legacy with this one. If your playgroup is literally all Frog Monsters & DaddyCats, sure. Knock yourself out. Or maybe Tomik will do it for you? Maybe if you beg good.
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I always wondered how they would make a Fblthp card, and well... now I know. The little guy’s actually pretty good, doing his best Elvish Visionary impersonation, only better, because if he gets super duper lost, he finds himself an extra card on the way. Sure, yes, he combos with Proteus Staff in a deck with no creatures as a strange build-your-own Divination on a literal stick. But honestly, that’s not enough reason to run him as your Commander. Prove me wrong, bitches. Because, honestly? I’d love to see that.
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The unfortunate thing is that, as much as I was happy to see a Massacre Girl card, it’s really unfortunate that there’s no Hekara in this set, given the role she played in the novel. (And the fact that miss not-Hekara here didn’t appear at all.) It just underscores how many missed opportunities there were in the coordination between the novel & the set. 
Anyway, not-Hekara is a super cool design, and will often be a pretty clean board wipe on a stick. Honestly... I could see her having a place in some Black decks that want this effect often, since recurring your board wipe over and over is a pretty strong line of play. It’s Staxy, but I’m kinda okay with that. Not a slam dunk, but a definite option for decks that want her.
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Aaaaaand lastly, the goodest of boys is... a good boy. That’s about it. He’s fantastic in Limited, and I highly recommend playing him often, and with great enthusiasm. But yeah, there’s not really any EDH potential here, except maybe in the strangest of jank Ezuri decks. And that’s a stretch, for sure. If it doubled the counters, then I could see it more, because that would get out of hand really quickly.
So that’s basically it. All the Legendary Creatures of War of the Spark. Who are you running in your Commander decks?
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