#i guess i wrote more about the characters than the story itself whoops

[beelzeebub]

you most definitely have already got this ask lol but I would love to hear more about what you picture the plot of Goncharov (1973) is (and what your opinion on the very popular gonchrey ship as well!) I am so tempted to get a poster you would not believe-

Ok so about the ship Gonchrey or Goncharov/Andrey (who si played BY HARVEY KEITEL). In my own lore, Goncharov is the main protagonist and Andrey is the main villan (it's kinda obvious from the poster lol) so I'd totally get why people ship them bc people tend to ship heros with villains. But with everyone having their own interpretation of who the chracters are, I can't comment on other people's view of them.

And now the lore! I’m sorry if this sounds stupid or doesn’t make sense, I’m writing it in a hurry and I will extend upon this in future. Also, this is not a Martin Scorsese story. It’s a mine, let’s be honest. I’m not saying this to brag but I’m not all that interested in pretending this film is real. For me, they’re just my OC’s from a funny poster I made for my mutuals. I’m saying this because I’m not trying to emulate writing of the great Martin Scrosese who I love very much. I’m just some rando person who likes mafia and gangster things. Hope that makes sense.

Oh and before I begin, no clock, boat or bridge scenes or anything of that sort is in my story. All these things were created by someone else and don’t fit in my story.

The story takes place in Prague, Naples and New York

Some info about Goncho and Andrey:

So Goncharov is the main protagonist of the story. Not much is known about him, his origin is very mysterious but it is later revealed the crime boss Andrey had his whole family murdered for owing him money and Goncharov is of polish-italian origin (I'm not sure what I want his real name to be yet). In the story Andrey is about 10 years older than Goncho in order for this to work, the actors are the same age but the eyepatch ages Andrey up so it works. Murdering Goncho’s family was one of Andrey’s first things he did after his rise to power. And so basically the story is about revenge. Andrey is half czech and half italian and he operates from Naples but his crime ring works all over the world. 

If you asked Andrey how he gained all his wealth and power, he would tell you it was through hard work and that he came from virtually nothing. That's a lie as his family was very well off. The extend of his wealth can be also attributed to all the blackmails, murders, abductions, frauds, thefts and other crimes he and his crime ring commited. Maybe these are the things that constitute as "hard work" to Andrey. Andrey is also a classist and something of an ethnonationalist as he often refers to himself as full blooded italian and rarely admits his half slavic origin.

Here’s some info about Katya and Goncho’s relationship from other ask (some info about Sofia too):

In my own lore, Katya is very much in love with Goncharov but is also tempted by Sofia. To Katya, Goncharov and Sofia also represent two very different ways of living. Goncho is a smuggler but an honest one and Sofia works for her boss Andrey’s crime ring. Being with Goncharov means living a dangerous life on the run but somewhere down the line there is a possibility of settling down and living life through honest means. Being with Sofia means choosing a simpler, cushier life, a life of luxury but it also means being forever part of the crime world. Who will she choose? I don’t know and neither does Katya :)

Also, I’m toying with the idea of Katya being married to Goncho (simply becasue I tagged her as Katya Goncharova a couple of times lol) but I don’t know yet :))

Info about Mario and Ice Pick Joe:

Mario and Ice Pick Joe grew up together in Sicily and were both very poor. They are not related but share somewhat of a brotherly bond. Joe’s darker side started to show from a very early age. He loved to kill and dissect small animals which sometimes freaked up Mario (although he never judged him for his impulses). Joe also talked about joining mafia from an early age, it seemed like a natural thing to do. He never imagined himself as anything else than a criminal. Mario is academically very smart. Joe often said to him that someone this smart could go study and make something of himself through honest job. But Mario was a very cynical person from an early age and thought that the only way people like them can escape poverty is through dishonest means. Also, Joe is just a joy to be around (if you’re not the animal or a person he’s dissecting), he’s funny, great cook, loves music, unassuming but charismatic. And it’s not just a front, he really is like that, he has two sides, one of them is very dark. Mario, as smart as he is, lacks the charisma and is aware of that. He is brooding and sulking and cynical. Lacks the social capital ... and friends (except for Joe of course). He also likes to go to casinos and gamble, not because he needs the money, but he likes winning and he likes the fact that other people’s social status can’t help them there. He’d never admit this to you but he secretly wants friends and wants to be liked but he is just so goddamn unlikable to the majority of people that no amount of wealth can help him with that. Mario was also always ashamed of his humble origin. When the two of them joined the crime world, they joined Andrey’s crime ring. Joe is very loyal to Andrey because he sees him as someone who gave him a chance and saved him from poverty. Joe became Andrey’s best hitman and is free to act on his darkest impulses. Mario became Andrey’s accountant, handling money. But unlike Joe, Mario resents Andrey because Andrey is a big classist and often and not so subtly lets Mario know that he would be nothing without him. In the story, Mario befriends Goncharov (the met in a casino) and will have to decide whether he betrays his boss or not. And will he be able to convince his best friend Joe to work against a man he is very loyal to?

The Naples side of my story is probably my most developed part as of now. I still don’t have everything figured out.

How Ice Pick Joe got his nickname:

Ice Pick Joe's favorite weapon of choice actually isn't an ice pick, despite many people assuming that's the case. He doesn't have a favorite weapon or a torture method. He likes them all. His nickname refers to one specific event that took place shortly after after he joined Andrey's crime ring. One of Andrey's highest ranking lieutenants was suspected of stealing money and giving up information to a rival crime lord. He was subjected to many hours of interogation and torture but still he would not confess. Then Joe asked to try. The only thing he took to the room with him was in ice pick. Nobody really knows what happened in there but it took less than 15 minutes for the lieutenant to confess how much he stole and what information he gave up. Andrey then used this information and destroyed the rival crime lord. This event prompted Joe Morelli to gain an immense amount of respect within the crime ring and ever since that day everyone called him Ice Pick Joe.

Info about Katya and her brother Valery:

Katya and her older brother Valery were born in Moscow but moved to Moldova after Katya's birth. Their moldavian mother died during Katya's birth and their russian father was very abusive but mostly absent. Valery is 20 years older than Katya and he basically raised her on his own. Valery became a high ranking officer in the militsiya (soviet police) at quite an early age, mostly due to his efficiency. He soon became disillusioned by the brutal soviet regime and defected to the USA, searching for a better life for him and Katya. He became a weapon smuggler and that's how he and Katya met Goncharov. Valery and Goncharov fell out during an event where Valery thought Goncharov had betayed him after a heist gone wrong (he didn't betray him, it was misunderstanding). He also hates Goncharov because Katya fell in love with him and choose to leave with him.

#lol why is this so long #i guess i wrote more about the characters than the story itself whoops #you dont have to read this as it doesnt really answer your question #im gonna copy this to my lore post #beelz lore #goncharov #unreality

[stillness-in-green]

Fanfiction Writer Bingo (+a silly poll)

Got tagged by @scumtrout, whose example I'm following in explicating a few squares, albeit with more shilling.

Talking Points:

Smut Content: For the most part, I virtually never get even as far as sexual content that would meet the bar for mature—two fics that depict sex acts without explicit details/body part terms. The only explicit sex scene I've ever written is still less than a third of the length of the fic as a whole, which I guess makes it only debatably smut. Is there a percentage you can exceed at which point the sex becomes part of the story rather than the story itself, or does any sufficiently explicit sex scene make the whole of the work smutty? Well, in any case, my writing is usually gen enough that the one story with the explicit sex scene the whole story is leading towards feels smutty by my standards.

Unbeta-d Fic Posting Crimes: I get extra pairs of eyes when I’m writing specifically gift fics, but otherwise I basically do all my own beta, which does mean I sometimes miss things.  That happens less if I take the time to paste a work into a different format or look at it on a different device—it’s true and good advice that doing that freshens up text to your brain!—but I’m just not hugely stressed about pruning out every single orphaned word or stray comma in writing I do for fun.

So Self-Indulgent: This will be more prominent if I ever do more with the ShigRD mermaid AU (which is, my god, so self-indulgent—mind control powers? 100% The Author’s Fetish), but the Gundam IBO Wedding Fic is pretty much twenty-two thousand words of me rolling around in post-series character dynamics and throwing worldbuilding absolutely everywhere I think it will stick.  I’ll also throw in a shout-out to the extreme silliness that was See the Blazing Sky Before Us, a Yuletide treat I wrote involving Doctor Doom, Gwen Stacy (Sorceress Supreme version), and Santa Claus, with the aim of replicating in prose the effect of reading one of those really over-the-top Jack Kirby comics from the 1970s.

Multi-Fandom Drifting: I have a very established pattern of fandom migration, so most of my fic writing is done in multi-year spans of same-fandom-ness.  That said, I certainly have written for more than one fandom in my life, particularly during the years I was doing Yuletide.

Research Before Riting: I often just bracket things off when I’m writing first drafts and do the deep research on the second pass, but there are also cases where the whole fic rests too much on research I need to do for me to even start drafting before I do the deep dive.  In either case, have a silly poll about it!

Deserves More Attention: I fear Moon Shot Aim is too spliced in with Overhaul/Nemoto to appeal to people who want more fic on Lady Nagant, and too Lady N-centric (as well as being a bit esoteric with its soulmate mechanic) for the people who want Overhaul/Nemoto, but I’m really quite happy with both ‘sides’ of the story, and wish it could get a bit more love.  Likewise, I wonder if all the OCs in the first chapter of The Way You Survive Is… scare people off of a story that is, in all of its subsequent chapters, much more focused on the canon characters.  Alas that my dedication to exploring the MLA as a group means I’m willing to make up a thousand MLA OCs before shoehorning in a canon character where I don’t think they fit!

Finally, have a few brief notes on two boxes I didn’t check—

1: Formatting my meta for posting is absolutely hellish, but I don’t typically do very complicated things with my fanfic.

2: While I did once want to be a professional writer, I fear it’s one of those ambitions that’s somewhat fallen by the wayside as I’ve gotten older.  Some of that is a matter of not having the energy/freedom to really focus on it in my financial situation, but it’s also the case that my two major original projects suffered from opposing problems—one was a story with a vastly underdeveloped world, and one was a rather nicely developing world with no specific story to happen in it!  But who knows; I do have periods of going back to dabbling with original projects, often in between my intense fandom periods, so maybe I’ll get something off the ground yet.

(Thank you for reading this silliness. Come back next week to finally talk BNHA's hospital attack.)

Tagging @codenamesazanka, @robotlesbianjavert, @leftofrevolution. @evilasiangenius and @megkips, if they would like to play. Here's the template!

#memes #my writing? #silliness #stillness would like to point out that the legal forms mentioned in the poll were being sent by a literal demon lawyer #to a small child who had just regained her memories of her past life #in which she initiated a cosmic lawsuit against the prison dimension Carceri #turns out it's hard to draw out a lawsuit longer than the plaintiff can afford when the plaintiff is a serial reincarnator! #the epilogue for that D&D game was A Lot #specifically A Lot more than I could fit into the poll option

[shadowed-dancer]

BNHA Theory: Why Aoyama Isn’t the Traitor

Debunking common claims because I love my boy and don’t want him to be evil. This is all for fun, and if you still want to believe he’s the traitor then I'm not stopping you.

This will be spoiler free, and will only cover stuff we see in the anime.

“We don’t know where he was during the USJ attack”

Ok, very fair point. However, have you ever considered that the USJ attack doesn’t actually matter when it comes to the traitor? Whether it’s Aoyama or not, I don't think this is a solid place to look for clues.

We know how the villains got the class schedule, there was no need for a traitor. Shigaraki noticed the press was desperate to get in, he disintegrated the barrier, and let them storm the campus

Then, while all the students were trying to evacuate, the teachers were also busy dealing with the reporters.

We only see Aizawa and Present Mic, but we can assume the others were dealing with the security breach too (and if not, then perhaps a teacher is the traitor? it doesn’t really matter, but the point is: it’s not a student).

Now, it’s possible that Aoyama was not affected by the rush of students, as he usually eats in the classroom, but he’s still pretty innocent. Students likely didn’t know the schedule, and had no idea All Might would be taking them to the USJ. I doubt the traitor would go through all this trouble if they weren’t absolutely sure that All Might would be taking them off campus sometime soon. Shigaraki could risk coming up empty (as in, finding a schedule where All Might never leaves campus) because he just doesn’t know what to expect, but a STUDENT risking themselves is a lot less unlikely. They’d risk getting caught and possibly expelled, or worse.

As for the USJ attack itself, Aoyama was most likely hiding. I’ll talk about this more in just a second, but in scenarios where he’s put in danger, Aoyama gives up and hides (even if there’s no one around).

So why’d he call attention to his absence? Well, to figure that out we need to look at...

Aoyama’s goals, personality, and motivations

Aoyama’s shtick is that he wants to stand out and be the centre of attention, yet is constantly pushed to the background.

His costume and hero name are meant to stand out, and the way he constantly talks about how wonderful he is is an attempt to get attention. He’s also obsessed with his appearance (as shown when Mina ruins his cape). None is this proves he’s a traitor, it’s just a form of comic relief.

When he asks if anyone wanted to know where he was, only to say “it’s a secret”, he was most likely trying to garner attention and make himself seem more cool and mysterious in the eyes of his classmates, but as an audience, it’s a lighthearted moment to ease us out of the heavier storyline. Again, he was probably hiding in fear, but wanted others to THINK he was bravely fighting like everyone else, which takes us to our next point to break down...

“Dabi didn’t attack him during the training camp”

This is probably the most damning piece of evidence.. If you need a brief refresher, Aoyama is hiding behind a bush, peaks his head out, and is almost immediately noticed by Dabi (it’s unclear if the villain sees who is behind the bush or not, but Aoyama says, “he saw me”. Even if Dabi didn’t see his face, he saw that there was a person). He goes to check but is immediately sidetracked by Twice, who reminds him to call back the Nomu he sent out. Dabi proceeds to forget about the student behind the bush.

Here’s the thing; this scene says more about Dabi than it does Aoyama. People tend to forget, but at this point in the story Dabi has not killed anyone. Heck, he’s not even in the criminal data base. Maybe he’s just sneaky, but Giran specifically calls out the fact that, “he hasn’t done any flashy crimes”. If he’s a criminal, he’s never been caught.

Back to that comment about the criminal data base, it’s a detail a lot of people overlook. When Tsukauchi is taking statements from Aizawa and Vlad King, he tells All Might that they ran a search through the CRIMINAL data base, looking for a man that matched Dabi’s description, and they came up empty handed. Not the quirk registry, they were specifically looking for criminals.

Dabi’s appearance is distinct, to say the least, so even if he was caught for petty theft, they’d be almost certain to catch and identify him. But no, he’s not a criminal at this point.

That being said, let’s look at how Dabi acts during the rest of this arc. For the most part, the real Dabi isn’t attacking unless he’s provoked first. When Deku, Shoto, and Shoji fall from the sky, he attacks to protect his teammate (since the boys had just jumped Mr. Compress). The exception is when Dabi’s clones goes after Aizawa and Vlad King, but in these situations he is very much aware that the two are pro heroes and will protect their students. Aizawa says it best, they’re trying to keep the pros distracted.

This isn’t meant to be defending Dabi, but instead to point out that, at this moment, he’s not very experienced in being a criminal. No spoilers but it’s obvious that CURRENT Dabi has no hesitations about killing people (see: those thugs in the alley and the hero Snatch). But, in this arc, he didn’t seem to want to cause any unnecessary violence. For these reasons, I believe he would have spared ANY kid behind that bush, not just Aoyama (forgetting to go back after Twice distracted him was a conscious choice, it would have taken literally no time out of his day to go check who it was, and instead he decides to let the kid live). Dabi’s purpose is to seem intimidating and distract the pros, not to attack recklessly.

Whoops, I went on a tangent. Back to my twinkling boy!

Aoyama is a coward

(meant in the most loving way possible)

Aoyama is a coward. I brought it up with the USJ that he was probably hiding, and we saw it with Dabi when he was cowering behind a bush. But the important thing is that, at the training camp, he actually does get the courage to attack (specifically when he sees Deku and the others fighting back).

We see this again during the license exam

During the test, he was scared to fail, so he hid until Iida found him. And, once again, the courage of his classmates gives him the strength to act. Aoyama is just scared. Some people point to this as evidence that he’s the traitor, since he doesn’t have the character of a hero, but actually think about it. Hero society is corrupt; people are becoming heroes for a whole host of other reasons. Almost no one has the motivations of a hero out of Class 1A.

Bakugo wants to be the best, Todoroki wants to stick it to his dad, Uraraka wants to make money, Iida is carrying on his family business, and Mineta wants girls. And hey, Mineta is also a coward, so take that as you will. Not everyone becomes in the hero course is suited to becoming a hero, and that’s the whole point (it’s the entire motivation behind Stain and his followers).

“How about the secret message?”

Ah yes, the secret message. "il faut se méfier de l'eau qui dort", literally translated to "beware the water that sleeps". It basically amounts to “there’s more than meets the eye” or “watch out for the quiet ones”.

Would a traitor expose himself? Probably not, the only reason I could say yes is if the traitor was helping the villains against his will and needed to tell someone, but what’s more likely is that Aoyama knows who the traitor is.

This next little theory isn’t really based on anything, but it’s possible that, while he was hiding from Dabi and Twice, the villains mentioned who the traitor was. Twice seems like the kind of dude who’d accidentally let it slip, or if he didn’t say a name, maybe he mentioned that SOMEONE at UA is a traitor and Aoyama is trying to get Midoriya’s help in figuring it out. Either way, he may be trying to alert Midoriya that someone can’t be trusted.

Alternatively, he could be referring to both him and Midoriya, and may not be talking about the traitor at all! When Aoyama wrote “I know” in cheese, he specifies that it was meant to say, “I know you have a quirk like mine” or “I know what you’re going through”. This could be similar, attempting to tell Deku “we are the same, there’s more to us than people know because we go through things that others do not.”

But wait, “the water that SLEEPS?” Mr Aizawa sleeps! Is Mr Aizawa the traitor?!?!?!

Tangent: Is Mr Aizawa the traitor?

No. This dude puts himself at risk for his kids more times than I can count. It makes no sense for him to go so out of his way to protect his kids (like at the USJ) only to be the traitor. As well, Aizawa could have easily texted Shigaraki and been like “yo change of plans, All Might isn’t here, don't bother showing up”.

In addition, Dabi actually DOES attack Aizawa at the training camp. No one is around to see it, so it’s not like it’s for show, and Aizawa is deliberately shown to not know what Dabi’s power is. (As seen when he says, “the fire wasn’t his quirk?” when the clone melts).

So yeah, “the water that sleeps” isn’t referring to Aizawa.

Some final thoughts about the traitor

I personally don’t believe there is one. In one chapter of the manga, the teachers are talking with the principal and mention how the dorms have revealed nothing suspicious from the students. As well, when Present Mic first brings up the idea of a traitor, he actually points to a STAFF MEMBER before bringing up the possibility of a student.

He mentions that only the teachers and first years knew where the training camp was, and then says, “I guess a student could have used their phone”. He says it like an afterthought, as if the possibility of it being a student hadn’t even crossed his mind until he said it out loud.

So yeah, I don’t think a student is the traitor. I am also hesitant to think it’s a teacher since Nezu says he can trust everyone in the room during their meeting. I think the traitor theory was just an excuse to get the kids living in dorm rooms for all the goofy teenage moments that could arise from that.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! And I hope all Aoyama fans can feel a little more at ease, knowing their boy (probably) isn’t the traitor.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #yuga aoyama #ua traitor #ua traitor theory #long post #bnha theory #bnha analysis #mha theory #mha analysis #bnha meta

[twiststreet]

As a fan of manga (mostly everything Tezuka), I'm intrigued by your comments about One Piece, but my assumption is it HAS to be at least PRETTY GOOD to be as popular as it is and to have run as long as it has. I'd be interested in more detailed posts about it, as well as how you recommend reading it, if you do. On a somewhat related note, today I started reading all of Batman. Planning to go from 1939 to 1999, when I first picked up the comics.

Whoops I wrote a lot; sorry:

I’m 615 chapters in out of 1000 (and in the middle of the Fish-Man Island saga which I think fans rank as either the worst or second-worst arc)(the other worst one, this bad tournament arc, I’ve already gotten past)... so I guess I have a lot to say, but you know, nothing especially original, just...

There’s a stretch (namely, the Water 7 arc all the way through Marineford) that is a hall of fame stretch.  He drops like 5-6 arcs that just land perfect right in row (though it’s hard to imagine it ever reaching the heights of the second arc in that series, Ennies Lobby ever again).  But that being said, it’s a little funny to tell anyone “Oh it takes 150 chapters to get really good” (that’s at least 2000+ pages of comics) let alone, that the A+ stuff starts 300 chapters in.  A chapter of One Piece only takes a minutes or so to read, if that, but it’s still a big ask.  People used to get angry if you told them that Deadwood only gets good after 3-4 hours, so... 

But that stretch is ... not “life-affirming” but... it touches a very old part of my brain in a very satisfying way.  

I had a whole long post I deleted because I thought it was boring, but... when I was into classical American superhero comics, the thing I’d constantly be nerdiest about is that there was this Great Possibility, to do something truly epic in that space which I didn’t think had been done.  There’s been a few novels (Watchmen, the Enigma) but not that many.  And American superhero comics don’t really have a Lord of the Rings or a Star Wars or, an example for me as a kid even though I hadn’t read all the books was the Gunslinger books (or sure, The Stand if The Stand had maybe a different ending?  I don’t know-- I’m not watching the TV show but I don’t really remember that ending fondly).  The epic driven by a creator who is creating his own personal mythology, basically.  Most of the genre is tied to pre-existing universes which foreclose that as a possibility and people who work outside those universes tend to just make shit like that Peter Cannon thing or Supreme or whatever that comments back on those universes...

Maybe you could argue the Hickman X-Men thing but for me, everyone after Claremont on X-Men is just inheriting so much from Claremont that... It means very little to me. It’s not a personal mythology. Same with Crisis.  The closest to me comics came was Kirby with the 4th World, but... Carmine Infantino shut that down. And the Claremont run itself is ... an interesting discussion, but again, Bob Harras.  But back before Watchmen 2, back when I thought comics could be this thing that improve over time (haha), I’d look for that (or for any ambition!  any!) and just gave up as time went on.  The careerist generation came in; the ambitions shrank even further; etc., to where I’m at now where my attitude generally with comics is “that’s nice; who care; so, is your wife dating anyone right now, what’s her story?”  

But then One Piece ... One Piece, of all things, becomes this epic thing!  And it’s great!  I was right that it would be great!!!  I was right! (My favorite thing to be!).  

Not at first-- at first the formula is “Wacky Pirates go to an Island, they find out something sad is going on in the Island, a character acting extremely emotional causes the biggest fight possible which goes on for 50 chapters, and then they leave the island and maybe take someone with them.”  And that’s a lot of big arcs... until little by little, tiny bit by tiny bit, Oda’s built up this world.  And then that world starts to become the story.  And that’s still kind of the formula but... but then they’re stakes.

The archetypal shonen cliche story is “a boy wants to be the best in the world at something”, right, but what One Piece does (and I haven’t read as much as other people so I don’t know how common this is, I haven’t read Naruto or Bleach, neither of which I’m too excited to check out, though i think david brothers vouches for Bleach heavy so I’ll probably give that one a shot), what One Piece does is sees how that would necessarily become a political struggle eventually.  Because what does it mean to be the best in the world at something when there’s an entire world out there already in operation, and built around you not being the best in the world, built around someone else being that...

And then there’s just this amount of worldbuilding that goes on, that is so slowly fed out over those first 300 episodes that you don’t even notice it... Until suddenly around Water 7, these bigger forces have now noticed our wacky pirates, and are shifting around them and getting upset about them.  Culminating in this arc called Marineford that ... again not as good as Ennies Lobby but... I don’t think there’s a comparable arc in American comics to Marineford.  The scale of that one... The fact he managed to draw that on a weekly basis!

While still being a goofy kid’s pirate comic.  It’s funny.  The power sets are all really silly, but in a way that reminds of how kids play more than a Dragonball thing.  (He takes like 400-500 chapters to even get to a Dragonball-style levelling up concept, which I thought was pretty patient of him).  But within that, I’m enjoying it now in a very Claremont way of... there now not just being these scrappy outcast heroes I’m rooting for, but an entire universe of people around them, with their own agendas, that I have varying levels of investment in.

There’s this saying that the Golden Age of science fiction is 12 years old, the idea being that’s the age where stuff lands with you the hardest because it’s all NEW for you.  But the thing is if you’re really immature (lifts hand)... I think part of things is you run out of the Good Stuff.  I go back and look at old Chris Claremont X-Mens and if I somehow find one I’ve never read before (and this was the lesson of Dazzler in Hollywood for me), I’m still right there, it still lands with me, there just aren’t that many people who can actually land that plane.  Once Scorcese is gone, what gangster movies are people going to be watching?  Blow?  Savages?  Kubrick only made the movies he made.  People add a little every year, but the really good stuff is rare.  

And so when I’m looking at One Piece and I’m enjoying it the way I’d enjoy a Claremont X-men comic (even if aesthetically it’s a VERY different thing-- sexless and not as weirdo-operatic and less violent and more childish and definitely younger-skewing)... but that I’m getting that same thrill of “oh this comic is a portal to this entire fictional universe this guy made up and that kind of exists now thanks to this (kinda disturbing I guess it turns out) guy” to me is...  Not “life affirming” that’s not the right word but... It feels good on my brain to know.  Because then being sour and grouchy isn’t just me getting older and the inevitability of age-- then it’s just... People need to make better shit!!!  Or I need to do a better job not wasting my time on, you know, an industry that’s not built to deliver what I need as a reader...

I mean, I’ve been saying for more than 10 years, I should just quit American comics and just be one of those guys to switch to manga.  And I’m not 100% there because... I mean, because of Copra and because of like an extremely small list of things that aren’t Copra.  (I just signed for Kate Beaton’s Patreon).  But... I’m 95% there, and it’s been great, and I just feel dumb for not having done it earlier.  

One Piece has big problems, too.  (There’s a whole “Sanji meets drag queens” thing that’s very much not landing with me right now).   I don’t think you can ever top Ennies Lobby because Ennies Lobby is about convincing a suicidal person whose been betrayed their whole life that life’s worth fighting for-- there’s never going to be an emotional engine to the story that’s as good as that one.  It’s trying to work its way back to a “normal One Piece story” in this Fish arc and it’s... I want to see it level up again!  The core cast is just a little too big (it really didn’t need Bones).  I think the shonen model generally creates a sort of “power arms race” where it’s like constantly “oh you learned how to crush mountains with your dick in the last arc?  Well, too bad our mountains are made of diamonds now” escalations that ... feel a little like a treadmill as opposed to a story.  I feel like it needs to kick into a Second Act, after the big ending of that first Act at Marineford.  And just... I don’t know how it can keep topping some of these fights, and think it’d get to be diminishing returns to find out. But... 

A “team of buddies versus the world” is already a great thing for a story to be about, and it’s just really satisfying having One Piece having the “the world” part of that equation being so complicated and varied and colorful.  It’s like if the Ocean’s 11 gang had to rob an overwhelming-more-powerful global crime syndicate, with multiple competing factions, while still convincing Julia Roberts to love them-- they just robbed Andy Garcia and I watch that movie like once a year.

(And thematically, the comic-- it’s not deep, but it’s basically got an anti-authoritarian streak to it, which I think is important for a kid comic to have.  It’s a pirate comic and you can’t really do a pirate comic without being like “fuck the cops” at least a little bit.  The pirate thing is interesting because it basically means that there’s always a discussion going on about what it means to be free, though I think sometimes the comic doesn’t really reckon with that-- it sometimes falls back into “well if there was a good monarch though” thinking... but there being good pirates and bad pirates and good government characters and bad ones, I like that... and the very worst characters just being rich assholes... yeah, good lessons in One Piece for the kids!!). 

That and I just like how that dude draws.  He’s not doing some dreary realism thing-- the layouts are fun without being showy or confusing-- he really improves as the series goes on (though some of the recent stuff I’ve seen hasn’t looked as good, but I’m not sure if I’m seeing low-quality scans or he’s been thrown a loop cause of COVID or what).  I’ll always put up with a boring stretch in a comic if someone, like, crosshatches an arm in a way that I find interesting, so that probably distorts how I read One Piece too...

I could go on and on, basically because ... goddamn, what else do I have to talk about, ughhh.  But yeah: that’s why I think it’s popular-- it’s the worldbuilding.  It’s 100% the worldbuilding.  (By which I’d include that it has this massive cast, that i can keep kinda clear in my head, not all of whom want the same things, etc.)(though also geographically-- there are maps and everything)... But recommend it?  I don’t know-- I mean... It’s a little kid’s pirate comic.  There’s a THOUSAND of them.  It’s more modern than a Tezuka thing-- it’s jumping off more from Toriyama than Tezuka, and that’s a different vibe. It’s like not something you can just “recommend”-- it’s a major time sink.  I’d recommend Chainsaw Man first to someone with my age and background because even though it has its own flaws, it’s more “age appropriate” and there are only 90 chapters, and it’s got that rad stretch about 20 chapters in so you see the “good part” faster... 

#one piece #Worst Hobby or Worstest Hobby?

[schrijverr]

Behind the Scenes

This is a story that developed from a small peek into my brain whenever I write the stories you read into a thinkpiece about writing and posting fanfiction. 

On AO3.

Ships: none (unless you wanna ship me with my keyboard lol)

Warnings: none, I suppose, but it does get a little down in the end, I was having a rough day when I wrote this, sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~

I sit on my chair before my laptop. I’m curled into myself as my fingers glide over the keyboard and my thoughts flow out of my fingertips onto the screen.

It isn’t all that late, just past midnight, but it’s already dark outside and in order to see the keys properly I have to turn on the lamp I have on my desk. With the light it’s kind of cozy here in my little nook of the world.

I look to the screen and try to make sense of my own words. I don’t have a fully fledged idea yet, but a vague idea that floated through my brain at some point during the day has inspired me enough to open a new document and start typing.

I now know how this story begins and I see where I am going and how it will end, but the question of how I get there sits heavily on my mind.

I stop typing for a moment and think. If I introduce this character now, it might set some other things in motion and that’ll be good for the plot, but I don’t know how to write that character at all and I’m afraid that if I do it wrong, people won’t like me or my story.

I sigh and realize I’ve started almost every new paragraph with the same word. I hate it when I do that. The story starts to feel repetitive and as a non native English speaker I want to prove that I have a bigger vocabulary than that.

How to proceed?

A synonym, maybe? But I’ll have to look that up and I don’t think there is a good synonym for I. Sighing again I scan the page and think. Maybe I could start with a verb to shake things up a bit or a question. No, not a question that would feel out of place here.

Now I’ve written a few paragraphs again, so I could use the word I used before, but since I used it so many times already I want a bit more space between now and the next time I use it. So a synonym it is, I guess, I think as I open my browser to look one up.

…

There is no synonym for I.

Goddammit, I think. Well, it’s no use now anyway. I’ve decided to write this story in the first person, despite knowing I’m horrible at it, and now I have to deal with the fact that I don’t have another word for I.

I start my next paragr- no that’s not right. Backspace, backspace. Moving on to the next- No, not that either. Backspace, backspace. I look at what I’ve written last and wonder why I’ve written something upon which I can’t, hmm, what’s a good word there?

I know I have a good word in Dutch ‘voortborduren’, but when I translate it, it gives me elaborate, which doesn’t fit in the sentence at all. Mentally groaning I recline in my chair as I try to think.

Maybe it’s the sentence itself? Lets see what did I write again? Oh yeah: I look at what I’ve written last and wonder why I’ve written something upon which I can’t- and then I need to find a word. Hm, funny, I don’t know how to go on by the sentence about not knowing how to go on.

‘I look at what I’ve written last and wonder why I’ve written something upon which I can’t’, I whisper it to myself in the hope the right word comes to mind.

First there is nothing, but then! Expand! Not perfect, but it fits, which is good enough for now, maybe when I proof read it a better word will come to me and I can use that.

So, expand. I wonder why I wrote something I can’t expand upon.

Fuck, I’ve spend so much time finding the right word that I have forgotten what I was talking, well writing, about in the first place. Softly swearing under my breath I scroll up and read what came before the sentence with the stupidly hard word to think off.

Ah yeah, it was about the other stupid thing, namely that I am writing this in the first person, which I still cannot do, no that skill has not come to me in the time it took to look up a word. What a pity.

But I have started the last few paragraphs with something other than I from time to time. That at least is something. Wait, should I add punctuation there? That, at least, is something. Looks better, but maybe that is just my love for commas talking. I mean, why write a boring sentence with a dot in the middle, which makes it short and doesn’t give you enough space to play with it, when you can also add unnecessary punctuation, so that you can play with the cadence of how something is read out loud or in someones mind?

Whoops, now that whole paragraph is long, if I want to make this story easy to read I’ll have to make this one shorter. Hmm, is this good? Yeah, probably. Enter.

Now, I’m suddenly wondering, if paragraph is even the right word. In Dutch the word is ‘alinea’ and the word ‘paragraaf’ also means chapter, but not really, only in a school book. It doesn’t really make sense, because you also have a chapter in a schoolbook and that’s divided in paragraphs and each paragraph has ‘alinea’s’

Aaand I’ve distracted myself by thinking about the differences between each language instead of looking up if paragraph is actually the right word and it means what I think it means.

I look it up on Google translate, not the most trustworthy source for sentences, but for lone words it’s alright.

It is the right word, along with indention, but I’m not really familiar with that word, although I can see where it comes from with the paragraphs creating indentions in the text. Still, I decide to stick with paragraphs, cause “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and I live by that.

Looking back to the clock in the corner of my screen I realize that I’ve now been writing this for 40 minutes. It isn’t all that long, but I don’t know where I’m going with this anymore. I had a point when I began and now I’ve forgotten it.

I stretch my arms, by pushing away my chair, leaning forward until my shoulders are at the same height of my desk is. My right shoulder cracks, it has always done that, but the sound snaps me out of my musings and makes me pay more attention to my surroundings.

It is raining outside and I hear people screaming. They sound happy, probably celebrating something and drinking, but I still wondered what they’re doing up so late (ignoring the fact that I am still awake too.)

Right, my word document. I was trying to remember what my point was. No wait, not remember, recall sounds better. I double click remember and replace it with recall: I was trying to recall what my point was.

Although I have found a nice sentences with the best word to describe the action, I still don’t know what comes next. I suddenly begin to doubt myself. Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe I’ve read this somewhere before and I am unconsciously copying someone. Maybe I should just delete this and move on to something else.

I mean, come on, who wants to read this? No one. I’m just going to post it, knowing that no one cares and no one will read it. People don’t go to AO3 for original works, you don’t, so why would anyone care about it? It’s going to get five hits tops, with maybe two kudos, three if you’re lucky.

And now I have accidentally switched to a second person perspective, can’t even stay consistent. Maybe if I play it off as an introspection or and internal dialogue no one will notice or think it’s an artistic choice.

Pff, artistic choice. You can hardly call what I’m doing artistic. It’s just fanfiction, a hobby. Yeah, I know that is still good and can be great, even amazing and artfully written, but this isn’t. I have a too direct writing style for that. I’ve only been getting English education for six years and it’ll take so much more practice until I ever reach that level.

I’ve gotten off track completely now. I faintly remember that this started out as a mock internal dialogue of what happens when I write a fanfic, but now it turned into a self deprecating shit parade.

I blink long and hard, trying to get my head back on track and write something better, or at least more consistent.

Realizing that in order to do that I should probably scroll up and read (lets be honest scan) how I started. I don’t have the energy for it, but I force myself to do it with a sigh.

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Ah, yeah, I began with where I was and then that discussion about language and looking things up. Oh, but I’ve also reflected on what I’ve written before, well, before. Then it was about re-finding what I was doing after I had to look up a word and now it is desperately trying to remember what the actual fuck I was doing in an attempt to make something cohesive, but still. I decide to not do that again.

I still don’t know what my point was when I started this, but I’m making a new one up right now. I think I’m going to call the work ‘behind the scenes’ or ‘the thoughts of a writer’, since I have now decided that this is a way to get readers a peek behind the curtains.

As a reader, I can respect people so much for all the work they put into a story. And of course I’m not saying you can’t do that if you don’t write, no, that would be pretentious, but I do have more respect for them than before I started writing all those years ago.

It is really easy to forget that something you read in a few minutes has taken hours to write. This is not even 2k words long right now. I know I can read that in a few minutes, not even blinking and mostly forgetting, before moving on to the next story, but I have been writing almost nonstop for over an hour now.

I am lucky that I can usually keep the words flowing long enough to make some bullshit up that I can reason into a coherent story in the end, but that has taken practice. A lot of practice.

In order to become a good in writing a story you have to do it so many times and you won’t even notice you’ve gotten better until much later. I know this, because I recently went through all my works and made them better. Got all the typos out there, I fixed vague sentences and I made the lay out better. I also cringed a lot.

Well, I think I have to go with a ‘behind the scenes’ now, because I don’t think I can claim this is my internal monologue when I’m writing. Instead this has turned into a think piece about writing and appreciating it or something.

I don’t even know anymore.

I recall I had a point when I started this, probably thought it out and then my brain decided to throw it away and throw up this garbage instead. It is interesting, I suppose, but not at all what I was going for in the beginning.

Oh well, maybe I can fix it when I proof read it, because I am tired and I think I’m going to bed. I have half the mind to just fuck it and throw it on AO3 without glancing over my own words even once. It’s very tempting to leave others to deal with these honest words and pretend they aren’t mine, but I don’t.

However, I don’t think I will edit this that much, because it was nice to get some frustrations on, well not paper, but on screen. Just order my thoughts, you know?

It is hard to stay motivated when it seems that everyone around you is doing so much better than you. It is disheartening and it makes you want to stop.

I don’t.

I can’t.

Writing is what I do, it helps, it’s nice. I love writing and I don’t think I will stop loving it. But one of the reasons I love writing is because it can get the constant thoughts and ideas to stop swirling around in my head.

Today I needed it to stop, so that I could just go to sleep properly and I feel like this helped. It was honest and I feel better now. Tomorrow can come at me and I will face it like I did today. Maybe my last few fics weren’t to everyones taste and that’s okay, they were my taste and I love them and I am proud of them. For me that’s enough.

I would apologize for ranting, I usually do, but since you could stop at any time and leave, I don’t think I’m going to do that, what I am going to do, is thank you.

Thank you for reading this, despite the fact that it is not a fanfic. Thank you for allowing me to just dump all these thoughts on you. And thank you for being here and clicking it, your support, even if it is only an extra number by “hits”, means so incredibly much to me and I cannot put in to words how grateful I am that you are here.

Since it is now 01:18 and if I recall correctly it was 00:02 when I started, I think I am really going to stop now. Goodnight, or good-whatever time a day you’re reading this!

Goodbye :)

#RR writing #just me thinking #think piece #internal monologue #writing fanfic

[melyaliz]

Micky Mouse ice cream in the dead of night.

Fandom: DC / Young Justice 

Summary: Roy was the night, and you were ice cream 

Pairing: Roy Harper x Reader 

Notes: I originally wrote this for a friend who isn’t on Tumblr anymore. So I edited it for a reader. I may go back and clean it up a bit more. 

One of the (few) best things to come out of the Young Justice show is little Emo Roy growing up to be single sitcom dad.  

Honestly the most wonderful character arc. 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

------------------------------

He was the night; dark and mysterious. Shifting from shadow to shadow like a nightmare just beyond your vision but there. In the back of your brain. That chill that runs up your spine. That ghost of fear that is hiding in your closet.  

 He was the wind. Swift and undetectable. A breeze to a hurricane. 

He was

Ice cream.

“Whoops.” 

Roy turned wiping away the sweet mint chocolate off his face, turning to glare at the dark-haired girl who was standing a few feet away from him. Her ice-blue eyes shining with laughter as she held up her plastic spoon like a catapult. 

"You did that on purpose!!" 

"Keep up Harper" she giggled admitting to nothing as she stuck out her tongue at him. Pulling out her bow and arrow she leapt from the building racing across the city.  

“You’re such a childs” 

“No, I just like to have fun.” 

Roy rolled his eyes as they raced over the city flipping over buildings and vaulting over balconies. Oliver had left him in charge and Roy Harper was going to prove to that big doof that he was ready for league duty. He just needed to focus. 

Now if she would stop rattling off House Wives facts. 

“I’m just saying she had it coming after the birthday party.” 

“Do I look like I care?” Roy asked, coming up next to her. She giggled looking up at the redhead.

“Yes.” 

“Look Oliver is counting on us to take care of the city while he’s gone.” 

“We take care of the city all the time,” the female archer said, running her fingers through her hair, “You just need to relax. Where’s my fun time Roy?” giggling she pushed him lightly only to have him catch her wrist.

“I’m serious….” 

“So am I.” 

Her voice was softer this time as she looked up at him. Meeting his gaze with her own. He was about to respond when gunshots rang out. 

Both teens turned to the sound of the shots. A convenience store right below them. 

“Please, it was a hard month…” 

“Just shut up and get the money from the safe.”

Roy nodded toward the back of the store motioning to have this partner go around the opposite way to surround four gunmen. 

“Four there is only a few hundred in here.” the bagman said looking over the contents before looking up at the one holding the gun.

“There was supposed to be more… Bring us to your safe.”

“There is nothing there, I just went to the bank.” 

“Four?” one of the other guys said clearly annoyed with this bust of a robbery. But the one called Four shoved the man.

“He’s lying, take us to your safe!”

The man nodded slowly starting to walk around the counter when he saw the young female hero from behind a magazine rack. Her bow ready, she nodded to him to duck. 

From his position across the store from her Roy leapt forward shooting two arrows. One of them freezing Four’s trigger figure. The store owner fell onto the floor behind the counter as Roy’s backup shot two more arrows at the other two guys with guns. 

Bag guy let out a scream of fear dashing toward the door only to have Roy shoot a bolas arrow which wrapped itself around the bag guy’s feet causing him to fall hard on the floor. 

Four growled swinging his now frozen gun at Roy who ducked as his partner flipped over the magazine rack shooting a net around Four. 

Sirens blared in the distance. 

Picking up the bag of money the young woman walked it over to the store owner. “Here” 

“I… how can I thank you?” he asked, taking the bag. 

“No need” Roy said, waving his hand while puffing out his chest a little doing his best Oliver impression. 

“Well… If you're offering…” the young woman’s voice trailed off as she glanced at the large icebox that held the ice cream bars. 

-

"This is the best," She giggled swinging her legs as they dangled off the 13 story building while she munched on her Mickey Mouse shaped ice cream bar. Glancing at Roy she smiled as he took a bite out of his bar not saying anything. Scooting closer she nudged him with her shoulder. 

“Ok fine, ice cream Mickey’s are the best” he mumbled glancing over at she who just smiled back at him. 

“Yeah, they make everything better, even getting left behind.” 

“I wasn’t left behind,” Roy argued, “You’re here.” 

“And I’m way better than Oliver.” 

Roy chuckled taking a lick of the dripping ice cream as he watched her lean against the railing looking out at the city. The sun was just starting peak it’s way over the tall buildings. Bright orange and golds streaming across the city lighting up the the wide eyes of the girl next to him. 

“I guess.” 

- Years later - 

Will sighed as he looked over his paperwork. 

Mondays. 

Looking over the figures he ran his fingers through his hair when a Mickey-shaped ice cream bar took over his vision. 

Looking up, his green eyes met her’s. 

“I heard about last night from Artemis. And I know a wise woman who once said mickey bars always make everything better.” Chuckling Will took the ice cream seeing that his visitor had already had eaten half of hers. “I’m sorry” she added. 

“I’m not” Will responded before taking a bite of the sweet treat, letting the hard chocolate shell melt in his mouth, his tongue licking up some of the sweet creams. His green eyes meeting hers again. “Want to go get something a little more substantial than this? I have been craving that Ramen from across the street.” 

“I’m totally down but…” 

“Daddy!” Lian squealed coming rushing into the office, ice cream all over her face.

“So maybe Mcdonals?” Will asked scooping up his daughter before wiping her face, “They have the best play place.” 

“Nuggets” Lian agreed nodding as her father kissed her cheek.

“Nuggets sound AMAZING,” the woman said looking up at Will. “Don’t you think Harper?” 

“Almost as amazing as Mickey ice cream” he laughed grabbing his jacket his eyes never leaving hers. As if he looked away she would disappear. As if he could pretend that every other woman he had tired to replace her with was equal in any way. 

Because she was ice cream. Sweet and cool and always there when you needed it most. It always made you feel better no matter what. 

It was amazing. 

Just like her.

-GET TAGGED!- 

Forever tag:  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​ @coffee-randomness​​ @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear​​  @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr  @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8 

#Roy Harper #Roy Harper x reader #Roy Harper x you #Roy Harper fluff #Will Harper x reader #Will Harper fluff #Will Harper x you #my writing #Young Justice fluff #Young Justice fanfic

[chyrstis]

2019 Writer’s Year in Review

Tagged by @amistrio! Thank you so much, because this was a lot of fun to tackle, and apologies to everyone for the wordy set of paragraphs ahead! And for my rambling.

Word count:

It’s been a weird year. Because nothing really took off until late June, and I’ve really been trying to make up for lost time every since.

I was able to get in a little over 100K down in total, and I’m honestly grateful for every second of it, because I wanted so badly to start writing again, but wasn’t sure what would do it. Guess this silly game’s it!

Number of smut scenes:

Uh, well...four total, I want to say? (there’s more in my wips, but we’ll leave those alone for now)

And considering the fact that I was majorly rusty writing anything to begin with, I didn’t think I’d be writing any smut at all this year, so whoops. Goes to show what I know. XD

New things I tried this year:

Hopefully this isn’t a cop out, but jumped into a new fandom for one. :D It’s been quite the trip ever since, and I’m incredibly lucky to have met the people I have so far. It would’ve been a completely different experience otherwise, and I’m glad I was able to. And I’d like to give @sharky-broshaw a special shout out here, because without her encouragement to even pick up FC5, this wouldn’t have been possible at all. (and also, she’s one of those awesome people mentioned above, as well as you, so <3)

Tried the Comic Sans font trick for my wips, switching to writing with it in the hopes it’d keep me writing consistently. It’s honestly been the thing I’ve used consistently ever since switching from Calibri to it back in October, and I think it’s safe to say it works? Or its become easy enough on the eyes to not bother me much while using it, but I’m not about switch back now.

Took part in a gift exchange for the first time after waffling for two weeks on joining up. Simply put, I was terrified of what I’d be able to make for it, and that my gift was going to fall apart or fall short, but it turned out to be a hell of a lot of fun all around.

Jotted down notes, dialogue, and scenes on my phone, first suggested by @statichvm! I would’ve lost so many stories, exchanges, and moments to my forgetfulness otherwise, so this is totally a habit I’m going to keep up with for the long haul. (and Macy, you’re also one excellent person to have met here, and I hope you don’t mind me sending you some <3 this way too)

Favorite thing I wrote this year:

I really want to say the Exchange fic / I won’t ask for much (but just this once, I’d like you)

I spent a good day or so wondering what on earth I’d want to tackle for a Sharky/John fic only for the silliest idea to hit: what would a romantic comedy be like with these two? One with 100% more blackmail and arson? The outline practically wrote itself after that, with a few more tweaks later on for some added development.

After that every day from November onward I’d jot something down for it. Then I’d write a little more, and while it was a story that came together pretty easily, it was long. Absurdly so, considering the time constraints I was working with, but I seriously don’t think this idea would’ve come to me at all or have been written without this, so I’m glad for the push (and the person that inspired it!) and that it was given the chance to exist.

I also had free reign to indulge in a lot of my favorite tropes, write two characters that I love, throw more than a few curveballs at Sharky, and have John discover a whole new set of expressions to make at Sharky in general. ...All while including lots of banter and teasing and pining.

So this was definitely something I was heavily invested in finishing, as well as being able to share it with @finefeatheredfarcryplayer. It would’ve crushed me to abandon it otherwise.

Favorite fic I read this year:

Shoot, I’ve mentioned a few here, here, and here, but here’s a few more, and all from FC5, because I’m still digging that game a bunch.

This fic by @outranks which is an old favorite of mine, because I’m absolutely weak for Sharky/Dep/John in any form or fashion. The intimacy and ease with with they all play off of each other here’s fantastic, and I love how this is is a small peek into how well they could compliment each other.

The Deputy and John meet pre-game by @seedsplease. I may have gone through nearly every fic available in her masterlist (and will likely do so again, because I love her work that much), but I really couldn’t get over the tension here, and how it really did seem like a snapshot of a moment that could’ve happened before the game started.

Why Can’t We Be Friends? by @finefeatheredfarcryplayer. I was checking in on this series back during the summer offering up an alternate means of resolving FC5′s events peacefully, and it’s been fascinating to see the story’s journey from that point onward. There’s a lot of moments that I love in this series, and I can’t wait to see where it’ll lead to at the very end.

Lyrical Alternatives by @narcis-the-monk. I fell in love with this series months back, and really could just keep on reading story after story in this AU for as long as it could go. Not the least of which is due to how the relationship between Sharky and John plays out here, and it’s equal parts heartwarming and heartbreaking as it progresses. Mostly the first, but when the second hits, oof.

Writing goals for 2020:

Actually attempt NaNoWriMo this year, or failing that at least get more down in an outline for either of the original stories I want to tackle. I’ve put this off writing anything for either for too long now, and I really should start getting some those ideas down.

Write a little (or edit) every day

Possibly keep a short record of what I tackle from month to month

Read more. I know this is a little weird here on a writing goals list, but reading really does get the old idea center going

Tagging: @twistedsinews @guileandgall @marymay-fairgrave @sneaky-apostate @jenchwuq and anyone else that might be interested! 

#ramble ramble ramble #chy takes a stab at memes #maybe I should work on being a little less wordy overall #but it's all good #sorry this took forever and a day to finish too

[iturbide]

hmmmm 1, 9, 25, 26, 29 and 30

haha whoops i wrote a novel again

Author Asks

1. Where do you typically get your ideas?

I guess when it comes right down to it, I get my ideas from asking questions.  Sometimes they’re silly questions, like “I love this narrative but what if it was Fire Emblem?” (Cursed Fate, Heart of the Moon, the Promare AU), sometimes they’re speculative questions like “how different was Lucina’s timeline compared to the revised one” or “why does Grima act that way in the game when they should hold all the cards?” (Future Built), sometimes they’re ‘what if’ type questions like “what if Robin was raised in Plegia?” (Crown of Shadows/Shrouded Throne), and sometimes it’s just a matter of asking “what happens next???” at the end of a completed story (Across the Bridge, Scourge Post-Canon which was literally me going “holy fuck Bany I love this what do you mean there’s no more here’s a loose three-arc concept and a downpayment of 10k words”).  This may explain why most of the series I write for are ones that make me ask questions, because if I’m not wondering I’m not creating.

9. Do you tend to have an external narrator or use one of the characters?

Oh, embedded characters all the way.  I think it’s amazing what people can do with external narrators and omniscient perspective, but I’ve always had the most fun picking a character and writing from their view.  It helps to build out the world and the characters in interesting ways, because every individual looks at things slightly differently, up to and including themselves.  Robin in Future Built tends to be one of my favorite examples of this: since we follow him exclusively through the first several chapters, we get a pretty strong sense of him as a high-strung young man who’s constantly trying to feign calm, though he often worries he fails at it; once we switch over to Chrom’s perspective in the Ferox chapter, we realize that Robin is significantly more adept at his act than he gives himself credit for, because Chrom finds him unreadable and even impassive, verging on emotionless.  Narrator’s bias is a delight.

25. How do you create an original character?

OH THERE ARE LOTS OF WAYS.  In stories where I have a solid understanding of the plot and need specific roles filled, I’ll often design original characters specifically for that part in a story, using the niche as a mold and filling in everything about them (this is how most of the kids in Project: Elements came to be).  Especially in original works where the plotline may not be as strong but the overall world concept is, I’ll start with personality or concept seeds and grow out from there (this is how most of the Starships crew came to be).  It is…also not uncommon for me to be playing games with generic recruits and make them characters based on random coincidences in battles (this happened a lot with Final Fantasy Tactics: Advance okay).  also there’s a not insignificant number of ‘original characters’ I have that were just dragged out of their actual canon and evolved whoops

26. How do you go about world building?

Worldbuilding is an arcane and mystical thing and honestly I kind of go about it in the same way that I approach story ideas: asking questions.  For existing properties like Fire Emblem, a lot of the questions tend to be rooted in things the game shows (for example, why was Gangrel king in Awakening and not Validar?) or doesn’t show (what does the Grimleal faith actually look like, since I refuse to believe that Validar’s cult is representative of all Grima’s worshippers?), teasing out threads of consistency through the larger context.  For original work, a lot of it starts with setting: understanding the world itself, what rules it follows and how it operates, and then digging into how the populations within that world work with or against those rules, with cultural contexts developing based on environmental factors (such as, for example, how a population in a colder region necessarily acts and interacts differently with the world than a population from a temperate or desert region).  Basically it’s a ton of who, what, when, where, and especially why questions.  This becomes especially fun when you throw it at friends and they start asking you the questions.

29. How do you plot your stories?

Recklessly and with abandon.  And it actually depends a lot on the length of the story: for shorter stories (anything I can reliably predict a chapter count for), I’ll usually chart the whole thing out in some form or another, planning the major beats of each chapter, maybe even doing an actual outline; for bigger stories, I tend to leave things a lot more loose, and usually start grouping by arcs rather than chapters, defining each one by either major events (like with Future Built, where Arc 1 is through the end of the Ylisse-Plegia War ending in Gangrel’s death, Arc 2 is from the ensuing peacetime through the war with Valm, Arc 3 is the ensuing peacetime and ends with Everything Goes Wrong) or by the general theme of what’s going on (like with the Post-Scourge, where Arc 1 is the whole fallout and associated investigation into the Parnassus Incident, Arc 2 is the transition and settling period where Galo and Lio both try to adjust to the major upheavals in their lives, and Arc 3 is all about change and growth once things finally stabilize).  From there it’s mostly just about defining the timeline of events, writing things out, and getting things grouped so that each chapter feels complete.  But regardless of how I do the planning, I always have the ending in mind: without an ending I really can’t write the story (which is part of why I have a ton of AU ideas with nothing but piecemeal snippets written, because I like the overall concept but don’t have a complete story arc with ending in mind, so I can’t make real progress on them).

30. How do you edit your stories?

I abandon them and go on vacation.  Fairly literally, too: once I finish something and decide that it’s done as a draft, I’ll put it aside for at least a few days (sometimes a week, sometimes longer, it depends on what else is going on and how much validation I’m craving); when I do finally go back to it, having fully disconnected and pulled my head out of the proverbial storytelling weeds, I’m better able to see areas that need to be smoothed out, words that need to be varied, inconsistencies that need to be addressed, etc.

#answered #banyanas #writing #yes in fact i am going to yell a little about the post-scourge #you can't stop me bany #meme

[darkhymns-fic]

Voiceless

The Chosen's journey continues on, but Colette is still determined to save Lloyd from his fate.

It's getting much harder to find a solution.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Genis Sage, Raine Sage, Sheena Fujibayashi Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A gift fic that was written for @frayed-symphony​ for Christmas! Last year I wrote about her concept of Lloyd as the Chosen, and decided to continue it! This is much longer, so only the first chapter will be on tumblr with the rest on AO3. I very much enjoyed writing this and am hoping to keep going with this in another story someday!

--

At Hima, Colette noticed that the night was quieter than others before it. The reason for it hung in the air, cold and heavy. It stayed ever present, just like the long, heavenly structure that divided the night sky. Clouds floated around it like shrouds, floated around them as well. For this was one of the highest points in the world, lifting them away from everything below.

Even so, it wasn’t long before she heard someone travel up the path to the cliff.

“It’s getting late now,” Professor Sage had called out. Colette turned, seeing the warmth of the inn’s fireplace flush her teacher’s cheeks. The moon shone brighter at this mountain village, making ripples across the Professor’s silver hair. A noticeable pause, then that tone that would always usher children back into the classroom. “It would be good to rest up for the night. We have a long day tomorrow."

Colette, obedient to fault, started to nod, soon getting up from her comfortable seat on the ground. “If that’s…”

But she was stopped when she heard Lloyd shift to her side. She remembered. “Ah! Sorry, sorry,” she said, sitting back down and shuffling a bit near him, offering her hand. “Go ahead.”

She didn’t have to imagine Raine’s frown. Her tone said it all. “You two now…”

But Lloyd, his coat a bright white that painted itself against the night’s shadows, only smiled at her like he always did. He took her hand in both of his own, already tracing a familiar word against her palm.

‘Dork.’

Colette pouted. “Heey…”

But his words continued, tracing more against her palm. Lloyd told her, ‘I wanna stay here.’

At least…she thought that was what he told her? She could easily read the dork comment, for he traced that word all the time! But when it came to more complicated sentences, she didn’t always understand Lloyd’s broad, sometimes too rapid strokes. But she was learning, she must have been learning if she could translate his motions from before. If she could sometimes think she heard him even.

She needed to, ever since Lloyd lost his voice.

“Um, Professor? Would it be okay if I stayed up with Lloyd?” She turned to her teacher, knowing her tone was pleading. “Just for a little while?”

Raine didn’t look too pleased. Maybe she was already suspecting, yet it had been too difficult to keep away from Lloyd’s side for the past few months. Always a soft hush to walk further off to the glade, or taking a corner for themselves when settling down for rest at their camps. Colette couldn’t stay away, not ever since she knew – and not even before it, too.

Raine knew this, and perhaps that was why she conceded so easily.

“Not too late,” she simply said, walking back down the path. The wind was blowing harshly at her robes, but she went on ahead, only looking back at her two pupils with concern. “Just remember, Colette. A protector needs her rest still.”

Colette bit her lip, then nodded. “Yeah… of course.”

All throughout, she felt Lloyd’s hand on hers, the way he tightened their grip, just a bit.

--

.

.

.

It was a surprise to most that the ones who would save the world consisted of a group of children and their schoolteacher.

No one they had met expected the Chosen’s group to be such as that – but Colette could see how some seemed comforted however at Lloyd, despite his young age. For, after all, he carried his weapons openly, and many were impressed that he could use two swords even! A few adults had marveled at it, and even the local children had asked Lloyd to showcase his swordsmanship. Of course, he didn’t waste any opportunities to show off what he knew!

“I call this one Double Demon Fang!” Lloyd said with excitement to the kids gathered around their savior, some even curiously pulling at the long white strips from his collar, which he didn’t seem to mind. They were at the port city of Palmacosta, the waves continually crashing against the quay, the breeze from the sea continually ruffling Lloyd’s hair.

Much of the plaza was clear by sunset, and Colette had wanted to join Lloyd along for the performance he was giving. She stood to the side, one hand always absently going to her necklace. She only wanted to make sure it would still be there, that was all.

“That’s so cool!” shouted one small boy, looking up at Lloyd with wide eyes as he performed the technique on a wooden dummy meant for the soldiers’ training. “Can only the Chosen do that?”

Lloyd sheathed both swords, but not before doing a cool flourish with them, which included flipping them both into the air before catching them just in time. Colette had given a little gasp at the spectacle, along with the kids – even though she had seen Lloyd do it plenty of times herself after they battled with monsters.

“Nah, you don’t need to be a Chosen,” Lloyd explained. “You just need two swords! But it has to be two!” A pause. “Well, I guess you can do it with just one… but it wouldn’t be nearly as powerful for sure!”

“Yeah! Lloyd does it all the time,” Colette piped in, then pressed a hand against her mouth. “Uh, whoops! I meant the Chosen does it all the time. Sorry.”

“Colette, it’s fine…”

Still, even as Lloyd showed off his prowess, the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon, painting orange against the cobblestoned streets, there were those that questioned.

“Does the Chosen not have need a bodyguard?” one man had asked, coming up to both Lloyd and Colette after the children had dispersed to their homes. He had the looks of a merchant, carrying a crate full of fruit on his way home.

“Huh? I have one though,” Lloyd said, confused. With both hands on his hips, he stood up straight, his next words holding a proud tone in them. “Colette has been my protector on this journey!”

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Her! She’s right there!” Lloyd then proceeded to wave at Colette who had kindly tried not to interrupt their conversation. “Hey! Colette!”

Colette nearly stumbled at the mention of her name. “U-uh?” She had been so caught up playing with the necklace in her hands – the perfect circle it had been shaped into, the glow of the red jewel in the center, the engravings around its edge – that hearing Lloyd call out to her so suddenly had nearly made her jump. “What is it, Lloyd?”

“This guy really wants to meet you!” Lloyd was shouting ecstatically. The man next to him merely blinked at Colette, shifting the crate more comfortably in his arms. “He wanted to meet my bodyguard!”

“Oh! Right, sorry! That’s me!” She gave a wave to the man (he seemed so confused. Maybe he was lost?), until she realzied it was probably rude to just wave and started walking up to them. On the way, she then decided to brush down her dress - the same dress she would usually wear to the schoolhouse back in Iselia (she had never been sure what to change it to). It was all dusty from their traveling. “Hi! My name’s Colette, and I’m his-”

Then the tip of her boot hit against the edge of a slightly upturned cobblestone. She was already flying straight for the man and his box of fruit, even as Lloyd tried to reach out to save her.

Strange that someone needed to save their protector, she thought before she collided into her fate.

--

Afterwards, her dress had a fair share more than just dirt on the fabric.

“I messed up, Lloyd… Sorry…”

“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t think you made him drop all of the fruit!” Lloyd tried to smile helpfully, still occasionally brushing off a piece of sticky fruit from her shoulder. (One time he had pulled off the half-smashed remains of a tomato and immediately flung it over the dock walls and into the sea). “You just kinda ran a bit fast…”

“I know,” she said. “I didn’t seem very impressive…” She thought again to Lloyd performing his techniques in front of the children, looking more excited than he had been in weeks. She looked back down at herself, her dress so plain and her own weapons hidden from other eyes. “But… I’ll keep trying though. I’ll train harder so I can be worthy of protecting you!”

She realized that they had somehow gone past the inn and ended up near the docks, the sea breeze a little stronger here, enough so that she could taste the salt in the air. Lloyd had directed his gaze up to the sky that had finally grown dark, the stars coming out in all their familiar patterns.

“Hey, Colette…” he started to ask, still looking up. “Does the wind feel nice?”

She almost started to question him at first, but she was beginning to learn fast now. She saw the wind once again ruffle his hair, shifting away the collar of his white jacket. If she looked hard enough, she could catch the gleam of his Cruxis Crystal, the red surface of it nearly matching her pendant. He always tried his very best to hide it, buttoning it up until nothing could be seen. But his swordplay in the plaza must have loosened the buttons.

Colette turned back to the sea, the brine so strong on her tongue, the wind rushing against her neck. “Yeah, it does.” Her finger absently twirled the golden chain, watching the pendant bounce from the motions. Through all these months, through all the fighting and the traveling, the chain had not broken once. “It’s really strong too…Not like at the wind seal. It’s not strong enough to knock me over… Well, maybe, hehe.”

Lloyd didn’t turn to her, but she heard him give a soft chuckle, one that made her feel warm, despite the wind.

“Did dinner earlier taste okay?”

Though she knew that Lloyd wanted honesty, she still felt bad about what she would say next. “Um…it was unique!” she finally settled on, unable to resist a frown from forming. “Since Professor Sage insisted on cooking.”

Another chuckle. “I felt really bad for you and Genis. That stuff looked… brutal.” It was then he wrenched his gaze from the sky to gaze down at her. He smiled, but she could see the sadness in it, despite how harsh the wind blew.

Lloyd could still not feel or taste. And she knew that later tonight, he would not even be able to sleep. But maybe hearing the waves from his window at the inn, and seeing the stars shine over the ocean’s surface, would be comforting?

She shyly reached for his hand, twining their fingers together, gripping hard as if hoping her mere desperation would be enough. That maybe something would reach him through what the trials had done to him, from those that had granted him wings that blended with the morning skies while robbing him of dreams and sensations.

She held him so hard, that her own hand started to ache.

“Colette?” He noted her silence, the strange look in her eyes. She felt his own hand hold her back – had he felt it? Or had it just been because he saw her reach out for him?

“I’m sorry… I also promised… that we would find a way that you wouldn’t…” She trailed to a stop, worried that she was ruining things again for Lloyd. What protector was she? To let this keep happening to Lloyd? To keep going towards something terrible? “Maybe at Lake Umacy with that unicorn… or maybe that kind assassin might know something…”

She heard Lloyd sigh. “You mean that girl that was trying to kill me?”

“I don’t think she was!” she argued back. “She had such kind eyes. Didn’t you notice?”

“Not really. She was too far off while you were busy fighting her, remember?” He grinned. “See? You’re already pretty good at protecting me! Even from assassins who you want to be friends with for some reason.”

“Well, you’re the one that saw her play with those kids in Luin! So you know she must be nice!”

“Heh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” His own voice trailed away, stolen from the sea breeze. Again, she caught the gleam of his Crystal before she realized he had moved in closer.

“Can you tell me how this feels?” he asked, softer, lighter before he bent down to kiss her.

Again, she wished she had the courage months back to give him this, before the power of the angels numbed his lips. But she was selfish still, pressing against him, tasting the salt on his own tongue. If he could not taste it, she would do it for him.

Even after they separated, both stayed close, his breath rushing against her mouth. A moment passed before she remembered what he had asked.

“That felt warm,” she said, letting one hand lay against his chest, tracing the church symbol that lined its surface. Dirk had gotten it down exactly, denoting whoever wore this to be the savior of Sylvarant. “And really soft… really nice…”

His laugh was so low, she thought she could feel it echo within her limbs. “You’re making it sound like I know what I’m doing.”

Colette smiled back, looking up at him, at how the stars framed around his features. “Maybe it just means you’re getting better!”

More laughter from them both, hands still clasped, the wind still rushing through. It was something that she had only dreamed about before – even as the unease from everything else still seeped through.

It had been months of traveling, ever since Colette had left her town of Iselia to follow her best friend. Months of watching him take a pain that only he was allowed to shoulder, watching him refuse everything on his plate, watching him sit much too near a campfire that Colette had to warn him to sit further back. But even with the months, everything was passing much too quickly, and still they had not found an answer.

They had not found a way for Lloyd to live at the end of his journey while still saving Sylvarant.

The feel of him near, his warmth combined with the chill of the wind, his taste combined with the salt from the sea – at least she could experience this for him. But one day, you can feel this too, she promised. I’ll find a way that you can be human again, Lloyd. And then we can go back home to Iselia together.

For if she didn’t promise that, then what kind of protector would she be?

--

Yet even then, with all of her promises, all of her resolve to train harder, to better watch out for Lloyd as enemies struck against them, to always lend a hand when she saw him summon his wings, their span as wide as the grief in her heart when she saw the discomfort it caused him – it had only happened again.

At the Tower of Mana, Lloyd then lost his voice.

The stairs had been much too numerous to climb, already making both their legs and their spirits tire, but for a while, it had only been the two of them, rushing forward while everyone held the doors opens with ancient mechanisms. Exploring the tower with its strange mirrors, its bridges of light, its books that Lloyd said made his head hurt from even trying to read them. For a while, it just seemed like a small adventure for them, all until they joined with the rest and finally made it to the very top for the fourth seal.

And then Lloyd had fell, and Colette clung to him, closely, closely, never wanting to let go. He had looked at her as the others gathered around in worry, but she had already known when he had fallen and not even a groan left his throat.

Lloyd had not taken this next loss of himself very well.

It was hazy; the rush to make camp for the night, Lloyd finally leaving her arms, hand continually going to his throat, only to flinch when his fingers brushed against the Crystal. “Do you want to go on a walk?” she had asked him later on, seeing him well enough to stand, but he had only shaken his head, mouth open to say something – then realizing he could not. He would then turn away.

Sheena had finally joined their group by then. Colette felt her eyes watching as Lloyd further went to a side of the camp, eyes fixed ahead. “This is what a Chosen has to go through?” she had said, and Colette thought she saw something fleeting in her eyes, but it scurried away like a frightened animal before she could question it. “How does this world have so much suffering? There has to be some way to stop it besides…this.”

And Colette could hear the tone that Sheena uttered, a resolve that made Colette question so much of herself.

What kind of protector could she be to Lloyd if she couldn’t have such resolve herself?

She put away her weapons by the packs, the chakrams glinting burnished gold from the campfire’s light, and once again tried to be at Lloyd’s side. He had not been as feverish feeling as with the other seals, but his skin was still pale from the shock of it all. She saw how occasionally his hand would reach up to his throat, only to flinch when his fingers would brush against the crystal.

Her foot stepped over the grass, finding twigs in their wake. Lloyd turned, the white strips hanging from his collar whipping around him.

“Ah, s-sorry, I know you wanted to be alone, just…” She fiddled with her thumbs before finally stepping towards him more, her voice drying up at her nervousness. But, how thoughtless it was to think that with what Lloyd had just been through… “I just…um…”

She felt a pat on her shoulder, Lloyd somehow able to smile at her, despite everything. He opened his mouth and she could somehow already tell what he meant to say. ‘I’m fine now. Don’t worry about it!’ Apparently, Lloyd thought he had been about to say the same thing – but nothing would come out, even as he tried to clear his throat, as if he had just swallowed something and it was stuck.

“Oh, does it hurt though?” she asked, remembering. “With how it…”

Lloyd could answer easier this way. He just shook his head, but then gave a small shrug, his smile now a bit more strained, a bit more tired.

‘It doesn’t hurt, but, nothing hurts now.’

Again, nothing she could hear, yet she felt those words echo inside her. She must have really wanted to hear him.

“Maybe…we can find a way around this,” she said offhandedly. “Just for a little while. You can still talk to us. Is that… why you’re over here?”

Lloyd looked to the side, and then shrugged again. She recognized this side of him - a side of him when he wasn’t as happy as he was that day at Palmacosta. There were times, even back at Iselia, when Lloyd would be so somber and barely utter much words at all. And now, as he was losing pieces of humanity, Colette couldn’t blame him for his retreat.

Still, she reached for his hand, urging him to look at her again. “Lloyd, I have an idea. Do you wanna listen?”

Lloyd blinked, but he looked at her, his curiosity obvious, so much so that she could hear the words, ‘What is it?’ from him.

She grinned, feeling a bit proud of herself for coming up with this idea. “Let’s ask Genis! He’ll know what to do!”

--

“Guys,” said the young elf, seated on a log as once again Raine insisted on cooking (but this time Sheena trying to buffer her efforts by intervening with her own suggestions). “I’m not sure why you came to me for this. I literally don’t know what to do.”

“Oh no…” Colette said with a sad air, then sighed. “I’m sorry again, Lloyd. I messed up.”

Lloyd waved away her apologies, but kept his gaze to Genis, frowning slightly.

“What?”

With a roll of his eyes, Lloyd tapped against the side of his head, then pointed towards Genis, still with a frown.

“Agh, are you trying to say I’m not smart? Even the smartest people would have trouble with this!”

“Maybe if we all put our heads together, we can figure out how best Lloyd can talk to us!” Colette had to find that resolve again, and she would make sure that Lloyd could still find some happiness, no matter how grim the situation. “Oh! Lloyd, maybe you could write to us!”

Lloyd blinked, which just prompted Colette to excitedly explain.

 “You know! It can be like the notes we’d pass each other in class!” she said, clapping her hands. “And we could draw each other little doggies as we write notes…”

“Why would you need to write stuff down, Colette?” interrupted Genis. “You can still talk.”

“Huh? Oh… right, sorry. I forgot!”

Lloyd sighed again. It was the most he could do with the lack of a voice. He shook his head, then tried to use his hands mimic writing something in his palm that must have represented paper…

“Oh, you’re right, Lloyd. We don’t have much paper on hand…” Colette said. With his nod, she knew she had gotten his meaning right. “Maybe if we asked the Professor? She must have plenty of paper!”

Lloyd emphatically shook his head.

“Huh? Why not?”

“It’s because he doesn’t want to give Raine the idea of giving us more homework if we asked her,” Genis offered as explanation.

“Ohh…”

“Anyway, we’re going about this all wrong. I’ll show you how much of a genius I am then, Lloyd.” At this, Genis grinned, crossing his arms proudly. “Heh, you could do something easy like charades for us! You’re good at moving around for that kind of stuff!”

Lloyd frowned at the smug-looking Genis, but Colette gasped in delight. “Oh, I love charades! Every time we talk, we can make a game out of it!”

“I bet I can guess more of his words than you can!” Genis dared, and Colette fiercely rose up to that challenge. She faced her friend, fists clenched in determination.

“No way! I can guess the most!”

Meanwhile, Lloyd stood before them and waved his arms. Though he couldn’t say anything, his expression was plain in his question, ‘Do I really get no say in this?’

Colette turned to him, hearing him (maybe?) but excited that perhaps they had found some way out of this dark cloud. At least for a little while. “Why don’t we try it? Yeah?”

Lloyd may have been voiceless, but she saw the interest in his expression, saw his frown slowly shift into a smile as Colette’s enthusiasm spread to him. ‘I guess I do like charades…’

“Let’s start with something easy. Like…what you want for dinner!” At that Genis winced, remembering. “Ah…right, I meant…”

Lloyd shook his head, then gave a thumbs up. ‘It’s okay!’ Looked like Lloyd did want to try this out!

Soon enough, all three got prepared. Genis straightened up in his seat, while Colette sat next to him, both facing their Chosen friend who was busy thinking up a word, his shoe tapping against the ground. Then it was clear when he had an idea.

With a grin, he held up one finger, then two, then three. Three words total. Colette clenched her fists, concentrating as hard as she could. She would win this!

Lloyd then held up one finger, then tapped his forearm once. Genis automatically noted aloud what that meant. “First word, two syllables.”

“Um…puppy! Is that right?”

Lloyd paused. Genis turned to Colette. “But…we’re talking about what he wants for dinner?”

“Oh, whoops.”

Shaking his head, Lloyd then repeated the motion. One finger up, followed by two short taps on his arm.

“It’s some kind of food… I bet something with protein, I’m sure.” Lloyd grinned and nodded, while Genis laughed. “So, like...chicken?”

Lloyd shook his head.

“Bacon!”

An interested smile, but still a firm headshake.

“Sausage?”

“Why are you guys just shouting food names over there?” Sheena yelled towards them. “Not like Raine here is making anything that sounds edible – OW!”

“Oh, my staff must have slipped out of my hand. My apologies.”

Despite the interruption, the kids kept at their game. Genis thought up hard for another food item “Tofu?”

Lloyd didn’t even shake his head this time. He just made a disgusted expression, tongue out, and visibly winced.

“Hey, that has protein too!”

“Um, cookies?” Colette piped in. “Pastries? Apples? Fruit tart? Oh no, wait, that’s two words…”

“Colette, you’re just naming off desserts!”

Lloyd shook his head even more – which he’d been doing a lot of lately! It was even enough to mess up his hair a little.

“Ugh, we’re trying, Lloyd!” Genis crossed his arms, thinking hard. “First word… two syllables… turkey? Is it a rabbit you want?”

Colette looked at Lloyd with wide eyes. “Why would you want to eat a cute bunny rabbit, Lloyd?”

With a jump, Lloyd still shook his head. Nothing was right!

“Gah, all I know is that you like your beef so much…” Lloyd’s eyes lit up then, looking at Genis with hope. “Wait… is it beef? But that’s just…”

But Lloyd gestured for Genis to continue, patting his arm again twice, with more emphasis on the second tap. “So I got the second syllable… wait, is it roast beef?”

Lloyd grinned, giving Genis a thumbs up. He did it! Colette made sure to give Genis some congratulatory applause – even if she had just lost. But she was happy for her friend. “Way to go, Genis!”

“Wait, but that’s two words, not one! Lloyd, did you have us play charades when you didn’t even get the number of words right?”

Lloyd blinked, looking at the hand placed on his arm from his fervent tapping.

“We spent ten minutes trying to solve that!” Genis growled out.

“Oh?” Colette blinked. “What’s the second word then? And isn’t there supposed to be three in total?”

At that, Lloyd looked a little blank. A hand reached to scratch the back of his head as he smiled shamefacedly.

Genis groaned. “He forgot the rest of what he was going to say.”

--

Afterwards, Colette could only blame herself. The night was getting colder and darker, and everyone was already preparing themselves for bed.

Everyone except Lloyd, who sat on the grass, looking up towards the sky.

It felt so natural to go up to him, to take a seat beside him, even as he made no motion, no indication at all for her to sit. But she felt his eyes flicker towards her, his left hand placed between them both on the ground.

“Maybe…we can try hand signals?” Colette spoke the first idea that came to mind, looking at the grass. “It might be easier than charades.”

Lloyd tilted his head, with a look that told her, ‘I’m not sure about that.’

Something about that look made her smile a little and, instinctively, reach for that hand with both of hers. “We can just make up our own! Like…” She curled his hand into a fist. “That can mean when something we fight is gonna be real tough! As tough as a rock!”

Though Lloyd shook his head, she saw the hint of a smile. It made her confident, made the excitement fill her blood. She kept going.

“And, you can use this signal!” she said as she formed Lloyd’s hand to hold up two fingers. “For when you’re going to fight. It’ll look just like your swords!”

Lloyd was grinning wider, turning more to her as he let her play with his hand like her own little world. He made no hesitance as she manipulated his fingers into what she wanted.

“And maybe… can do this?” She flattened out his hand, palm upward. “When you want to stop, or rest. Yeah!” She raised her head. “See? We can already say three things!”

Though Lloyd still smiled, she saw a curious expression in his eyes. That was when his other hand reached over, taking her own in his. The touch tickled against her palm, made her head brim with a heat that she didn’t want to ever get over.

What he wrote on her hand, it made her giggle even more.

“Lloyd!” she said, happy to find a way through this, happy that she could do this while feeling his touch. “I guess you’re right…” she said, interpreting his strokes. “It really was just rock paper scissors, hehe.”

Lloyd’s smile was the best thing she had ever known, and it didn’t seem to fade this time with the night. Fingers traced over her palm again, their meaning clear – so clear she could have sworn she heard it whispered in her ear.

‘You were right the first time. Writing is the way to go.’

--

.

.

.

At Hima, the world felt so much larger than before. When all she had ever known was Iselia, she felt her eyes open more and more with each step on this journey. Would Lloyd understand that feeling too?

The night was quiet once it was just them again after Professor Sage left. Colette’s gaze was fixed up towards the sky. “Hm…are you still trying to count them all?” she asked as she turned back to Lloyd. He was still holding her hand, fingers laying against her palm.

His eyes were also fixed towards the sky before he turned to her, then to her hand. The same soft tracing that tickled her a little bit, making her giggle. ‘I think that’s impossible… there’s too many!’

“Hm, but what if it was both of us? I counted the stars too for the past few nights. We can just combine what we found!”

A grin and a shaking of his shoulders. She barely had to imagine his soft laughter then. ‘That sounds smart! Okay, what you got?’

Colette, happy to help, looked back up at the sky to quickly calculate where she had left off the other night. “From that star that looks like a cute doggy’s nose, I went all the way to the Tower.” A short pause, a brief reminder of what would happen, but she pushed through. “So about…367!” She had gotten very sleepy on a few instances of her night counting, but she was sure this was the right number.

‘Every star looks like a doggy to you…’

“Not true! It’s a nose so it’s different!”

Still, Lloyd kept grinning. He also raised his head to the sky, Colette watching the way his eyes gently flicked around the length of the expanse. Then another quick tracing – she was getting better at reading him. ‘I got 640. From the doggy nose star to the ocean.’

“So many!” Colette marveled. It was a marvel because she knew how much Lloyd didn’t really like math… and yet he had counted so high. “But which way’s the ocean again? We left Palmacosta a while ago.”

Lloyd blinked. It wasn’t just his writing that she could understand better, it was his body language too. Like the way he shook a little sometimes with a smile, letting her know it was with silent laughter, or the way he would stay still when he was thinking very hard on something. He was thinking hard now, eyes slowly going around them before turning to her. He grinned. She knew what that grin was, smaller than the usual, but not sad, just embarrassed.

‘I can’t remember now… Whoops,’ he wrote down, but Colette was already giggling away before he even finished.

“Lloyd! What if you’ve been recounting the same stars again?”

‘It’s not my fault! They all look the same!’

“But not the doggy nose star,” she stated proudly.

‘You’re right. Not that,’ Lloyd readily agreed, his smile making her feel so content.

Even though he couldn’t laugh with her, she would laugh as much as she could for them both. But eventually, even her laughter faded away with the wind, which only blew stronger the later it got. She shivered, watching the way Lloyd’s hair ruffled with it, pulling at his clothes. The gleam of the Cruxis Crystal twinkled lightly before disappearing again within his collar.

She was careful not to say something thoughtless about the weather, knowing what Lloyd could not feel. Yet in her hand, he asked what she had thought to ask. ‘It’s cold, isn’t it? Did you wanna go inside?’

Colette shook her head. “No, I’m okay. I want… to stay with you.” And something there, in the way she had said it, so thoughtlessly. She had tried so hard to not. But it came and then a wave of emotions flooded her throat. “I want to stay with…”

She tugged at his hands with both of her own, looking at them, at the way their fingers curled around each other so naturally like ivy. “Lloyd…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t done enough for you.”

His hands remained motionless within hers. But if he still had his voice, she knew he’d remain silent. She was only ruining things now, but she couldn’t help the hot tears that started to overflow. Her hands continued to clutch his, shaking.

“But I – I won’t let it happen.” Her voice cracked, and air was hard to come by, even during the rough cold winds, but she kept going. “I won’t let you die.”

Lloyd’s hands flinched. Despite knowing, despite understanding, neither had ever said it out loud. It was the voiceless threat, always lying in wait. But now that Colette said it, the truth of Lloyd’s fate fully dawned on her. More tears fell. She would cry enough tears for them both.

She worried Lloyd would pull away, but he only clung back to her, tighter. ‘Colette.’ He didn’t write it down for her. But she still knew.

“I promised you that I would help you find another way. And…and I will!” She finally had the strength to raise her head, to look at Lloyd. But his own eyes stayed locked onto their hands. “We don’t… we don’t have to go to there tomorrow.”

Something thoughtless said, but it left her, and it emboldened her suddenly. “We don’t have to go to the Tower,” she said again, to make it true.

Lloyd finally looked at her, confusion plain in his eyes. Again, his hands stayed still, but she couldn’t bear to let the silence continue.

“We can tell the others maybe… and, just say we need more time. Sheena talked about another world. Maybe someone there could help us? Or we can keep figuring things out ourselves! We… we don’t have to go yet.” Colette still felt the tears fall, bowing her head again but still trying to stay strong. A protector needed to stay strong. “I don’t want you to go.”

‘I don’t want to go either.’

She blinked, the warmth of his finger leaving an imprint in her palm. With Colette still in her stunned state, Lloyd once again wrote in her hand. ‘We won’t go tomorrow then.’

“You…you mean it?” Colette asked. She had expected Lloyd to argue, to say it was useless, or maybe say nothing. But his words reverberated in her head, despite never hearing them aloud. “Lloyd…I, I promise I won’t let you down this time! We can- we can find a way to save everyone!” The happiness she felt, and Lloyd’s hands keeping her steady, she suddenly felt so much hope. If Lloyd believed in her…

Then Lloyd motioned for her to get up, still holding to her tight. Colette tilted her head in confusion. “Huh?”

‘Come on, I wanna show you something,’ Lloyd said. Well, wrote. Except he didn’t write anything. She was only imagining it again, because for most of her life, she had always heard Lloyd, always heard this boy that lived in the Church that she could see in the distance, even from her home. And she had always felt sad that Lloyd didn’t seem to have a home in the village, a home where he could play and make those fun crafts he did or draw pictures of animals that she’d want to keep.

But his smile was invigorating, and soon Colette was following him, nearly tripping as she did so. But he caught her, and that was when she saw the wings sprout from his back, the mana from them capturing the stars in their shape.

“You…want to fly?” she asked. Because, ever since that night Lloyd had gotten his wings, he had rarely used them. Not during battle, not even to travel. She knew how much he disliked them. “Why?”

Lloyd only stepped back from her slightly so he could write in her hand again. ‘Flying is only fun with someone else.’ He deemed that to be enough of an explanation as he then pulled her forward to wrap her in his arms, spreading his wings and slowly lifting them into the sky.

“Ah! Lloyd!” Colette clung to him, feeling the ground leave her. It was a familiar feeling – all her trips and stumbles had made her acquainted with the air. But she wasn’t roughly falling to the dirt to get scratches across her knees. She was held aloft by Lloyd, his hold on her so tight, as he started to fly them through the night sky. “Too high up!”

But Lloyd smiled at her, calming her beating heart, if only a little bit. His grin broke through her fear, until she could only mirror it back. Then she was laughing, feeling the wind in her hair as he dove all around the air. So cold! But Lloyd’s arms around her kept her warm.

“Can we go to the doggy nose star?” she asked, arms wrapped around Lloyd’s neck. He answered with a nod, and then another great beat of his wings got them flying toward a part of the sky.

She felt the chain of her necklace whip around her wildly as they flew, the pendant of it still hanging on. But she knew it wouldn’t break. Lloyd had made it for her. And he always made such wonderful things.

They would have to still decide on where to go tomorrow, on what to do. She still saw the Tower of Salvation behind them, like a beacon that was difficult to turn away from. But Lloyd said he would stay by her side. They could figure out what to do together.

Read the rest on AO3!

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #genis sage #fanfiction #multi chapter

[thanksjro]

The Prequel

Eugenesis has a prequel, in the form of a 13-page comic called Liars, A-to-D, laying out the groundwork for what’s to come. If the title sounds familiar, it’s probably because it was reused in the first MTMTE storyline, covering issues #1-3. Roberts likes a little recycling, he does. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The art is more or less on-par for what one might have seen in the original cartoon, only it’s black and white. There’s a few points where the posing gets a little funky, but I can still tell who’s supposed to be who for the most part, and that’s pretty impressive for a colorless Transformers comic. Quality isn’t the crispest, but that’s most likely due to the scan I have.

This comic starts with a cold open, stating that 56 million years ago, the first Cybertronians sprung from the metal of the planet- the narration calls it “spontaneous evolution” and that it “just happened.” The narration seems to have trouble grappling with the vast number of chance events that go on, covering the “spontaneous" eruption of Mt. Hilary that lead to the Autobots being repaired and restored after four million years on Earth.

Oh, hey, Prowl.

Then we contrast these things that “just happened”, with something that, in the narrator’s opinion, didn’t “just happen”; at the signing of a treaty in the far-flung year of 2302, Rodimus, Ultra Magnus, Springer, and Soundwave are all at the pulpit, with millions of spectators looking on. Suddenly, a whole city street just shows up out of nowhere, and full of ‘bots who are scared out of their wits. The event is brushed off as “spontaneous materialization”, but our narrator- who’s been revealed at this point to be Ultra Magnus, if the art is anything to go by- doesn’t agree. He certainly hopes that this isn’t what this is.

BOOM. 12/21/12, just like I said it would happen. And hey! It’s James Roberts! That guy this blog is following through these writings. Good to know he’s actually here now.

I tried looking up Matt Dallas and Graham Thomson, but didn’t get much on either of them. I’m guessing they didn’t do a whole lot in this vein after this publication.

Star Saber is in this, apparently. Can’t wait to see him, and what he’s bringing to the table. I, truthfully, don’t know a whole lot about Star Saber, outside of the IDW comics, so I’m genuinely interested to see what he’s like.

Our first shot within the prequel proper is of space debris floating over the planet Cybertron, with a weather report. That tells me something’s going to fall out of the sky at some point. Call it a hunch.

I’d call it “understanding foreshadowing as a concept”, but that doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as well.

We cut to a television broadcast of Galvatron, who’s encouraging ‘bots to join the Decepticons. It’s a hell of a recruitment video, being broadcasted everywhere, even underground, where the Autobots are hiding. There’s even a call number. Chromedome asks Prowl if he should give it a ring, but Prowl doesn’t seem to think that’s such a great idea.

For some reason, Prowl has this little ring floating above his head in these panels, and I keep reading it as a halo. As far as I know, he’s not dead, so I don’t know why this is happening. Unfortunate framing against the background, perhaps, but the backgrounds in this scene are all pretty blocky, so that doesn’t make a ton of sense either.

Oh, hey, Chromedome. How’s the hubby? You’re looking very Headmaster-y today.

Meanwhile, at the recording studio, it’s revealed that Galvatron wasn’t making that call to action at all- it was a puppet, all part of a rig set up by Soundwave, in the light of Galvatron not having spoken to anyone in ages, presumably in some sort of comatose state.

Now, surely I mean an actor when I say puppet, right?

No. No, I don’t.

I love how awkward everyone looks here. You have the guy with the clap board, who’s obviously never used one in his life, just standing off to the side waiting for some direction, the guy working the puppet who looks like he’s about to drop their great leader’s torso on national television, and Gun Guy. Soundwave really knows how to pick ‘em. I know it isn’t an ideal situation, but a little more upper body strength on the puppeteer would make things go a lot smoother.

Also, hot tip: if you have to use the word “subjugate” when talking about your cause, that means you’re on the wrong side of history, my dude. No non-evil group would ever use that terminology. I know the Decepticons are still cartoonishly evil at this point, but geezum crow, that’s a bit on the nose.

We get another weather report, then check in on our dear Prime, Rodimus, who’s in the middle of an exorcism- his own, to be precise. It doesn’t go anywhere, and Kup interrupts him having what looks like a seizure as he tries fruitlessly to get Unicron out of his body.

Meanwhile, in Helex, what was supposed to be a routine surveillance mission isn’t turning out so hot. The Autobots and Decepticons are at a standoff on a bridge. It ends poorly for just about everyone- some guy gets his head blown clean off! Sixshot is about to make a killing blow, when he’s crushed under a massive chunk of space metal.

Up in the skies, an Autobot ship is being chased by everyone’s favorite time-traveling pals, Cyclonus and Scourge. Scourge is looking extra boaty today.

…Cyclonus, you’re also a fly-boy. You’re arguably more of a fly-boy than Scourge is right now, because you actually look like something that can fly. This is after Headmasters, so I suppose we can forgive him being a little stupid.

While they’re being attacked, the Autobot ship picks up the signatures of thousands of unidentified objects, and then is immediately pelted with tons of metal falling out of the sky.

Foreshadowing! It’s never let me down. And hey, it’s that space metal that squashed Sixshot.

The Autobot ship abandoned, Cyclonus and Scourge head of the surface of the planet to regroup. Scourge asks who was aboard the ship, and when he’s told it was Nightbeat, Fastlane, and Cloudraker, he gets spooked.

And then he explodes.

I’m right there with you, Cyclonus. I don’t know why that happened, either.

The following day, Rodimus is in the lab with Perceptor, taking a gander at one of the larger pieces of space metal- they’ve sussed out that it’s the core of Moonbase 2, which was lost eons ago. The odd thing is, it’s covered in writing that isn’t Cybertronian. Something fishy’s going on. Rodimus tells Perceptor to store the moon core at Eocra for now, and not to tell the high council anything just yet.

All pieces in place, I suppose, we head back to the odd scene we left at the treaty signing, where the city street popped into existence without warning. The pedestrians on said street are taken into custody, where they’re questioned by way of police brutality. They claim to be from 2013, and then the sci-fi jargon hits hard and I couldn’t really tell you what it means.

What I can glean from this, however, is that maybe storing the moon base core in Eocra wasn’t such a hot idea.

The 2013-era ‘bots are thrilled to not be in their current year, seeing as they were witnessing the end of the world when they were transported. Now, remember, this comic takes place in 2302, so something’s clearly going on here. Are they lying? Suffering from time-sickness? From a parallel universe? We’ll have to read the novel to figure that one out. Still, our narrator has a bad feeling about all this, and Ultra Magnus goes down to visit Primus, where they store the memory banks of all the survivors of the war, lamenting that there are so few “true” ones left. True survivors include, but aren’t limited to: Rodimus, Perceptor, Soundwave, Sludge- a dinobot- Galvatron, Ultra Magnus himself, and Wheelie, whose canister seems to have some sort of caveat.

Well, that can surely only mean good things.

In the postscript- yes, not an epilogue, but a postscript- we summarize what’s just happened: the accounts of multiple spontaneous events, and the promise that the past will come back to haunt us. Fun stuff. We’re left with a final look at the symbol that was left on the moon core, which will surely play into the story to come.

I also have, at my disposal, the script that Roberts wrote for Liars, A-to-D, which, as far as I know, is the first comic script he’d ever written.

Because I have access to the script, some of the more interesting details are made known. Hey, guys I found Star Saber- he was the guy I thought was Ultra Magnus, and is actually the narrator. Whoops. I suppose that would explain why he was presented in this comic on the title page. In my defense, there’s only one good shot of his face in the whole comic, and they have very similar heights and shoulders.

Star Saber, I am so sorry. That one’s completely on me.

The script allows us to figure out who some of the lesser known characters are- for example, the ‘bot holding the Galvatron puppet up is named Pounce. Get some more bicep curls into your workout routine, Pounce.

We can also get a little insight into scenes that we otherwise wouldn’t.

He’s reciting the Primal Pentechurch here, for his exorcism. This can probably be decoded. Neat!

I can also put some names to the Autobots that are featured in the Helex standoff, including Quark. No, not that one. Different guy- this one turns into a hover-car.

His character description is actually in the script, addressing the artist, Matt Dallas. It’s pretty in-depth, like the sort of direction one would give for an art commission of their OC, which I suppose it is in a way.

Little fact about myself: I went to college for film production, specifically in script and screenplay writing. I know a thing or two about scripts. You typically don’t do this within the script itself, but rather in the character bio, because it can mess up the pacing of the script-to-screen ratio; one page of script amounts to roughly one minute of screen time. Now, this obviously isn’t the exact same thing, seeing as it’s a comic script, but it stuck out to me.

Still, for a cherry script, it’s not bad. And, after all, I didn’t study for comic scripting, so what do I know? I’m just some asshole on the internet, I don’t get paid for this.

Oh right, I can figure out what the hell happened to Scourge; there was apparently a bomb inside of his chest, that he decided to set off right in front of his buddy Cyclonus. No mention as to WHY this happened, though. We’ll have to save that question for the novel proper.

Right, that happened. There’s a lot of unintentional vore in the UK Transformers comics.

In the script, the names on the cabinets don’t exactly match up with what’s seen in the comic. Wheelie isn’t mentioned at all- one has to assume the comic’s inclusion of him is a little jab at the character for being what some might call “annoying”. Sludge also isn’t listed, but Prowl and Nightbeat are. Their cabinets might be hidden behind Star Saber, and therefore out of shot.

So, final thoughts: this script was… okay. Roberts clearly knows what he wants included, and makes his vision known, perhaps a bit too strictly in places. All in all, completely serviceable, did everything a script is supposed to do, but nothing amazing. And that’s fine! I’d honestly be worried if the script here was on par with what we got seven years later. Writers are supposed to grow and improve.

But now it’s time to prepare ourselves for the prose writing. Up next- Eugenesis!

#transformers #jro #maccadam #eugenesis #liars A-to-D #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

[punk-aziraphale]

Here's a good distraction. Tell me what you love about The Witcher. I've been planning on watching the show and want to hear your thoughts on it.

💗💗okay full disclosure I haven’t seen the last two episodes because I am TERRIBLE at finishing series because I don’t like things ending. So this is all minus the last two episodes. (i’ve been spoiled for most things tho because that’s how I prefer things lol whoops)

I started watching because I saw gifs of Geralt and I was like “oh. oh no. he’s....so hot.” and then saw that he and Jaskier are easy to ship and was like “alright, thirst watching it is!” But it was actually so good!

But past literally everyone being hot and it being a bisexual smorgasbord (and I’m not even really bi but lbr Yennefer can get it) I really liked the story as well.

It’s a really great example of how a story can be set in a sexist world but not be sexist, itself. None of the women are one dimensional, even the more minor female characters have nuances about them which is really nice to see in today’s fantasy genre thats been WAY too influenced by Game of Thrones. (that said there are way more boobs than there needs to be and not nearly enough (or any) of Geralt’s “lovely bottom” and I’m hoping that season two will get the hint that if we’re gonna get THAT much nudity that we want equal opportunity).

Next, Geralt himself. He’s a big dumb man whose feelings are stunted and yet I still ADORE HIM. he’s really bad at expressing feelings (which is just a witcher problem I guess *cough*he’s autistic*cough*) but he still clearly HAS them. He loves his horse, he’d prefer not to kill things if he can avoid it, he immediately gets attached to Yennefer, and even though he insults Jaskier he clearly loves him too (platonically or romantically it doesn’t really matter, he still loves him). It helps that he’s GORGEOUS and looks amazing in his big sexy armor and that his very rare smile is like the sun peeking out from behind rain clouds. (Excuse me while I channel Jaskier for a minute and wax poetic about Geralt) I love him a lot. I hope he gets to work through some of his emotional shit in season 2.

And now we come to Jaskier. He’s everything I ever wanted in a bard character to project on. He’s sassy, he’s cute, his clothes are BOMB and he’s an amazing singer (Joey Batey is singing voice goals tbh). He’s wildly bisexual and flirts with pretty much everyone. It isn’t stated in canon but Joey Batey said that Jaskier falls in love with everyone he meets so we can infer that he’s at least playing Jaskier as a hopeless romantic bisexual whose got a crush on everyone, which would, of course, include Geralt. I haven’t read the books (yet) so this is only from excerpts I’ve seen on here but their relationship isn’t the same as in the books (which is even easier to ship them with) and their show relationship is a little strained because Show!Geralt is emotionally constipated but they clearly care very very deeply for each other and Jaskier isn’t afraid to show it which is exceedingly endearing (and also heartbreaking a little. No spoilers but u might be really sad and pissed at Geralt after episode 6). He’s an overdramatic theatre kid with a lute and notebook to write poetry in and he’s perfect and I’ll fight anyone who says anything mean about him.

I would very much suggest watching it, just go in knowing that it’s not like the books or game if you’ve read or played them and that there’s a lot of tits and monster guts gore. But everyone’s pretty and it makes some great points about the shitty parts of society and all the main characters are lovable in their own ways. Oh it also time jumps a lot but no one really ages lmao so it’s kinda confusing at first, but you get used to it.

Also Roach is the best horse and I would die for her.

(Thank you so much this really helped me a lot to think about The Witcher instead of my anxiety and while I wrote this I got two polite responses from teachers so it gave me a great way to spend some of the time waiting to hear back thinking about my current hyperfixation instead of potential disasters 💗💗💗)

#The Witcher #asks #anon #It's a really good show for what it is #like is it perfect? no obviously there's no such thing #but for a Netflix show it's really good and I thoroughly enjoyed it and will probably do a second watch through before I watch the last two #Anonymous

[medievalmon]

Since you have a ton of pairings, what about just listing one alternate pair for each main or side characters, I really want to see what you have thought up

((Oh my. You’re enabling my indulgences, haha! 

Well, let’s go through some, then. 

Greninja/Samurott - Ninja and samurai pairing, very obvious. Given how I’ve written the characters out, they actually would’ve complemented each other quite nicely. Hence the (mostly) one-sided attraction. 

Chesnaught/Incineroar - Several instances of fan art with these two together have endeared me to the concept. If Chesnaught weren’t the main character, he would’ve had time to wait for a love interest and probably ended up with an Incineroar character. Otherwise, he’d have probably ended up with Lilligant, which might’ve been noteworthy, but boring in my mind. 

Nidoking/Nidoqueen - It’s technically canon, but very clearly not in focus (yet). It’s a typical pair that lots of people see and accept, so I might have honestly gone with that if I avoided Nidoqueen’s tragedy. Rhydon would’ve been a very lonely character as a result. 

Rhydon/Tyranitar or Rhydon/Aggron - These are cute when not based on my fanfics, so I’d have liked including one or the other. Sad reality is, if Rhydon wasn’t with Nidoking, he’d be with someone that reminded him enough of his king, at least by appearance, and these two would relate well enough. 

Typhlosion/Feraligatr - Kind of speaks for itself given its popularity, no? I’m a sucker for the two as well. Bonus points, because they’re usually paired off as males as well, so it’d be a common gay pairing to include. They’d probably have been entirely different characters, though. 

Gardevoir/Froslass - Boy oh boy do I feel like I dropped the ball on giving Froslass a solid girlfriend, let me tell you. Also, if Nidoking had been straight, Gardevoir probably would’ve gotten a push to be gay. 

Gallade/Bisharp - Knight boyfriends, probably. They’d be drastically different from how they were developed, obviously. 

Escavalier/Sirfetch’d - This is a very recent development, but I absolutely love that Gen 8 gave me this for indulgence. 

Accelgor/Kricketune - Honestly, I just kind of like the idea of Kricketune as some wealthy character that would’ve had a loyal bodyguard. That very much did not happen, but this pairing would’ve been possible had Kricketune been written that way. Originally bounced between Accelgor and Escavalier for the bodyguard, but Sirfetch’d got rid of that debate, lmao. 

Lilligant/Tsareena - Someone pointed this couple out to me, and the only reason it’s not going to happen is because I had a partner planned for Lilligant prior to Gen 7, and going back on that would’ve been annoying. 

Scizor/Ledian - Prior plans had me toy with this one, and I used to like this pairing when I was younger, since both were red bugs and I had figures of them that fit together nicely. They’re no longer going to be a couple, so I guess I can reveal that? 

Heracross/Pinsir - I don’t have any plans to use Pinsir, but I’ve had a soft spot for one being a potential partner to a Heracross. Would’ve been a nice minor couple, but Heracross will have a different partner in the next story. 

Sceptile/Blaziken - Mentioned them before, but I would’ve picked these two together if I hadn’t decided on pairing Blaziken with Swampert. They’d have been a very, um…well, if you like how Nidoking flirts with Rhydon, that. Swampert tempers the two, which I liked better. 

Hitmonchan/Mr. Mine - I can’t explain this one very well at all, honestly. I like these two together for some weird reason. Fighting/Psychic is a particular weakness of mine, and I’ve pondered over these two. Would’ve been hilarious, having a fashion fanatic dating a shadier merchant. 

Alakazam/Hypno - Blleeeugh, I don’t like considering Alakazam with anyone besides Machamp. But, I have considered this couple outside of my fanfics, so, had Hypno turned out differently, he probably could’ve been a love interest for Alakazam instead of a minor villain. Or…well, that’s a spoiler. 

Machamp/Conkeldurr or Machamp/Sawk - Honestly would’ve just been compensating for Alakazam not being with Machamp. These two have been compared before, so I’ve thought of them as a couple, and I’m probably not alone. Machamp tends to have flexibility for potential love interests, since human-shaped dude, so he’d have more options. Would’ve probably gone with Sawk in all honesty, or Hitmonchan if he were available. 

Empoleon/Blastoise - Infinitely less enchanting than what I came up with for Blastoise and Carracosta. Empoleon might’ve benefited from taking that role instead, but then Carracosta would’ve ended up alone for the current story. 

Carracosta/Floatzel - Aqua Jetters. Definitely not a pairing that I’ve seen, but it’s one that I’ve thought up (maybe like once myself). I just fell so hard for Carracosta being with Blastoise and never really looked back. 

Weavile/Lopunny - Dark girl plus pretty girl, and I’d have shamelessly run with that one outright. …Ok maybe not shameless, but I’d have made you like them. 

Golduck/Ludicolo - No lie, I had little to no intention of using Ludicolo, but I like the idea of one with a Golduck, because they seem like a cool/cute pairing. Would’ve absolutely leaned into that, and Golduck probably wouldn’t have had any history with Greninja were that the case, because they’d be a wholesome couple and I can’t imagine Ludicolo not being cute. 

Mienshao/Lucario - This one is probably more common than I realize, but I don’t see people making much for male Mienshao in general, so it’s probably non-existent for gay content. 

Delibird/Politoed - Ok, so, I think these two are pretty cute, and that’s out of nowhere, I know. But, I don’t know, I like them as a Gen 2 specific pairing, with Slowking rotating out for either of them as well. If I had focused on developing them a lot more, they probably could’ve been a canon couple. Thankfully, Delibird avoided that heartbreak. 

Poliwrath/Primeape - Big fist boys. Another one that would’ve made no sense for the story, but it’s a couple that I do like. Had I wanted to give Poliwrath a partner, Primeape would’ve been like a reformed bandit up north with him. Too bad they didn’t get to be a couple…or get happy endings. 

Pangoro/Krookodile - Don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before, and I like the idea of it! They’d be bad boyfriends, lol. Pretty sure if I included this for the fanfic, they’d have been villainous characters. How fortunate for them that I didn’t go that route, ha. 

Ursaring/Slaking - Lazy time boyfriends. Hadn’t really thought of Ursaring not being with a bear when I wrote him up, but I’ve grown to like this pairing after considering him with non-bear characters. 

Beartic/Abomasnow - Fun fact: I totally did NOT pay attention to Beartic’s canon size, and that he’s supposed to tower over Pandora and Ursaring. If I had, he would’ve been Abomasnow’s boyfriend. Plus, great white ice monsters. 

Flygon/Garchomp - It’s being played with, but I would’ve put these two together were it not for…reasons. 

Zoroark/Zangoose - Does anyone like this pairing??? I’ve thought it up like once or twice, so not that I’d be a major supporter, but they seem like a valid couple. Yet, I’ve only seen Zoroark consistently paired with Lucario and Lycanroc, so, what’s up with that? These two would be an easy one. 

Lucario/Toxicroak - This is a very quiet pairing that I came up with solely based on Pokedex proximity, where I looked at two Pokemon close on the Pokedex and went, “yeah, they could be a couple.” (It worked best for Alakazam and Machamp, I know.) I don’t think I would’ve seriously considered them as a couple, especially because Lucario has loads of other options, but I figured it would be a funny one to share. 

Others to Note: 

Delphox - I’ve got spoiler plans for Delphox, but had I not come up with the idea that I had for him, he would’ve gotten a solid partner. It’ll be very clear who I’d have picked personally for him, but that’s…well, I’ll get to it in the future. 

Golurk - Another instance of me not paying attention to canon Pokemon sizes. I originally goofed with a Golurk being paired up with a Hitmonchan, because mini-skirts that aren’t skirts, but now that I know Golurk’s canon size, whoops. It’s good, because their current characters wouldn’t make sense together. 

Quagsire - I actually like Quagsire with some weird picks, such as Granbull, Gastrodon, Swampert, Goodra, or Ampharos. But my fanfic Quagsire was never meant to be paired with anyone. 

Yeah, I could keep going for a lot of these, though they would be rather lopsided in who gets lots of pairings and who doesn’t. 

But, there you are, alternative couples that could’ve happened or ones that I’d have liked and inserted in because why not?))

#askmon #ask mod #anon ask #alternative character interpretations #alternate pairings #I feel dirty from some of these #my choices in the stories were already so nice

[yourfandomfriend]

The Thoughtpocalypse | Dollhouse Review

So there’s this show from the late oughts called Dollhouse that you've undoubtedly heard me talk about before.

It’s been around for a long time and nobody got it in it’s first run so I’m just gonna spoil the whole goddamn thing because I’m tired of it being overlooked.

** MAJOR SPOILERS** FOR DOLLHOUSE ** MAJOR SPOILERS **

Ready?

Are you sure? I’m spoiling it all, are you sure? Okay.

Dollhouse was about the Apocalypse. 

Big whoop, right? We’ve had tons of shows and movies about that. But most people don’t get far enough into this show to find out what it was actually about. It sold itself as a sexy sci-fi thriller about a futuristic brothel. The idea is that, for a hefty price, a “Dollhouse” could make someone into anything you wanted via advanced technology. It erases their memories and replaces them with new ones. A spy, a lover, a consigliere, a wet nurse, whatever you want.

And if that sounds immoral and disgusting? It’s supposed to. 

This show got a reputation as one of those porny, “pretty people doing evil things” soaps. (Like the scandalous prestige television that’s, hey, winning awards for HBO and AMC nowadays!) But it’s actually a show about how man’s inhumanity towards man will lead to the end of the world. Because the Dollhouse isn’t the real story here, it’s just the tip of a very scary iceberg. 

“There are over twenty dollhouses in cities around the world. They have ties to every major political power on the planet. [...] The Dollhouse deals in fantasy. That is their business, but that is not their purpose.” -- “Man On The Street”

The company that owns and runs all the Dollhouses is called the Rossum Corporation (the name is a red flag reference to “Rossum's Universal Robots”). They use the Dollhouses to fund and test technology that would go on to be used for slavery, global warfare, and immortality for the wealthy and powerful.

We focus on the L.A. dollhouse for a number of reasons.

For one, it’s where the technological breakthroughs originate -- the lead programmer there, Topher Brink, (Franz Kranz) refined the “imprinting” process from analog cables writing imprints chronologically over the course of hours into a micropulse signal dumping imprints in all at once in a matter of minutes.

Because of him, Rossum’s tech advanced to the point where it could create monsters if even slightly mishandled.

One such monster was called “Alpha,” (Alan fricken Tudyk) an early dollhouse guinea pig who started misbehaving due to his former life... as an irredeemable, violent psychopath. They plucked him out of prison to experiment on him and didn’t see it coming when he lost his marbles and started attacking people. When they tried to run a diagnostic on his prior forty-eight imprints to see which one could’ve caused his violent streak, they accidentally dumped all of them into his brain at once, something they later dubbed a "composite event".

Alpha escaped, plotting to eventually take another doll out with him. With his new super multi brain, he invented a pulse gun that could wipe a doll of their imprint remotely. Something that wouldn’t be possible without Topher’s micropulse imprinting.

This tech directly led to a dystopian near-future wherein world powers with the technology could send a blanket signal imprint over the radio or really anything with a speaker, creating a nation of idiots or an instant army of millions “programmed to kill anyone who’s not programmed to kill anyone.”

Topher never meant to hurt anyone, his intentions weren’t sinister. He just had the brains and imagination to see beyond the limits of science and the hubris not to wonder whether we should move forward. But he wasn’t the only guilty party.

Adelle DeWitt (played by my forever-wife, Olivia Williams) was the head of the L.A. house. As a terribly lonely, misused person with trust issues and a job that didn’t allow for a social life, Adelle engaged a doll companion herself and was naively convinced that the Dollhouse would truly help people, save them, and give them what they needed, emotionally. 

At one point, Adelle made an exception for a very wealthy, middle-aged friend of hers and imprinted her onto a pretty young doll posthumously, so she could attend her own funeral and solve what she assumed was her own murder. It all worked out but it set the precedent. Before long, Adelle would be informed that “upgrades” (your personality imprinted into sexy young bodies that don’t belong to you) would be service available to their wealthy clientele.

The character who tries to turn the tide back is Echo (Eliza Dushku). She was originally an idealistic young woman and eventual eco-terrorist named Caroline who accidentally found out Rossum was experimenting with humans and dedicated her life to taking them down by any means necessary. When she eventually got caught, Adelle offered her the chance to clean the slate by signing away five years to the dollhouse.

As an “active” (someone given the hollow mental architecture an imprint can be built over) Caroline had her memories copied, stored away, and then wiped from her mind, making her a simpleton. Between engagements, she would be kept as an innocent, carefree dumbass in a spa-like new home.

Unfortunately, she caught the attention of pre-composite Alpha, who became obsessed with her. When he found out another doll was more popular than Echo, he mutilated her with a pair of pruning shears.

Eventually, after Alpha killed a whole mess of dolls and bolted, Echo would go on to be the most requested doll in the house. But there was something different about Echo. For some reason, she was slowly becoming immune to the imprinting and wiping process, retaining her memories of her life as Echo, and eventually, of her engagements.

And underneath it all, she was still Caroline, the girl who wanted to save the world and lead people to freedom. but because Echo had the self-awareness to protect herself by protecting the dollhouse, Adelle allowed her to flourish, unwittingly creating her worst nightmare: a renegade doll immune to the imprinting process.

If you, like some others on the netty webs, saw a few episodes of season one and wondered who you were supposed to sympathize with in this amoral mess, the real answer was basically, “Not us. Humans ought not to be monkeying around with brainpans.” All of the questions you have get answered and all of the characters who do wrong pay for their crimes in time, most of them even coming around to making amends.

Dollhouse was about hubris and the disasters we can cause by disregarding others’ rights to autonomy. In an age where undreamt-of tv excellence comes standard, his show doesn’t deserve to be remembered as trash...

I had to get all that off my chest. 

I dunno, I guess I’m bitter that, in the years since Dollhouse was canceled, the tv landscape  proves viewers will identify with and even root for incestuous serial killers, wild west sexbots, ruthless cannibals, meth kingpins, post-apocalyptic warlords, and Don Draper, but a show about why it’s not okay to screw with humanity’s ability to say “no” was just too sketchy.

PS: I first wrote “sex bots” with a space between words and Grammarly just corrected my spelling.

#dollhouse #meta #spoilers #long post

[killinbills]

this might be weird but do u come up with ur chapter/book names? do u usually wait to make the chapters name until you publish or have it planned?

Right ok so this is a little long whoops... My answer’s on the other end of the keep reading :-)

ask me questions!!

Sometimes I’ll know what I want to call certain chapters, especially if the chapter is really important. Sometimes chapter titles will be taken from part of the chapter itself (”Hurt a Fly,” “Thank Merlin for Maxime”) and other times I will literally have no idea whatsoever and will have to come up with one because I want to update but don’t have a chapter title lmao. (Such as chapter three of Clueless lmao I had no idea what to call that chapter.) But yeah. It really just depends

I almost forgot about the book names bit lol whOOPS. Right so when I was first writing fics it took ages for me to think of a name and I often took song titles/lyrics and used them?? Which honestly is a good idea if you’re struggling for a book title, but now I sort of just know what I want to call a fic? Like a lot of the time I’ll think i’m still thinking about it lol but I’ll call the playlist something random that fits the fic and that’ll end up being the title because it works best.

(I’m just gonna do a list of my fics and their titles because that sounds easier to show that you can literally get a book name from anything)

Blue – Ravenclaw is blue lol. That… is basically it lmao

Briar – Briar’s the main character, and it sticks to the ‘B’ theme of the series.

Bones – Honestly I was just looking at ideas for words beginning with ‘b’ and bones just fit? (later on I found this song by The Killers that’s also called Bones and like it’s not named after that but I wish it was because that song’s so Livvy)

Mean Spirits – This is a little funny lol so basically around the time I posted it, I reread my favourite book series when I was little called the Mediator Series by Meg Cabot aaaaaand for some reason they re-named all of the books?? (I’m guessing it was rebranding bc the new titles sound a bit more Twilight, but anyway.) One of the titles was Mean Spirits and ever since seeing that title, I had the line in my head, “It was just her and these mean spirits.”

Go Lightly – It was originally going to be called Holliday (because I have a bad habit of just naming things after the main character) but for ages Go Lightly was the playlist name and it just… sounded better than Holliday? Like Holly’s called Holly because I read Breakfast at Tiffanys and idk, it felt fitting to have the title be Go Lightly

Holliday Dearest – It was a phrase used soooo much towards the end of the last book (GL.) And like it was said by Holly’s mum specifically in the letter she wrote to her, so now that her mum is back, it felt like a good idea to have a title that reflected the fact that Margo’s back.

Clueless – Tbh it’s called that because of the film but like over time it’s gotten another meaning because Briar Crouch is so fucking clueless oh my GOD. 

But yeah… Every story is different and every chapter is different so the titles of both honestly just depend?? Hope this helps!!

#asks

[jesperr-fahey]

i can’t stop thinking about “the guy who didn’t like musicals” sooo i wrote a really long analysis about it? whoops. anyway. enjoy this, i guess. some of it is under a cut because, again, it’s long (1200 words, actually). here we go !

so i specifically want to talk about 2 songs that i think are the best songs in the musical (for multiple reasons that i will get into)- let it out and inevitable.

why are those the best songs? well, a few reasons. they’re the climax of the show, obviously, and they do some amazing things for plot and character. but the main thing that these two songs do so well is tone.

by design, the tone of this show is kind of all over the place- it’s a horror comedy, that’s just kind of how it’s going to work, and that’s something that starkid is good at it all of their shows- balancing the emotion with the jokes. but this one stands out, i think, because it’s not just emotional character moments- it’s horror.

and for the most of the show, it’s easy to forget that this show is horror. sure, the characters realize that they’re in a horror story of some kind, but the audience forgets about it, because hey! it’s funny! we’re too busy laughing at the jokes and the expressions and the overacting and the silly choreography to realize what’s going on

but by the end of the show, we are reminded in a big way.

we are forced to come face to face with that horror that the characters have been feeling for the past hour and a half- specifically paul and emma.

first, let it out. 

this song. god, this song. it’s a masterpiece, and i don’t say that lightly

tgwdlm really pushes something, and they do it in a way that you barely realize it’s happening- you forget that paul is the main character in a musical. 

paul is supposed to sing, and in most shows, that character- the main character- would’ve had at least 2 solos and many ensemble numbers waayyy before the climax of the show. but paul isn’t the main character in a musical. he’s the main character in a horror story. 

so the instant paul starts to dance, the instant he starts to sing, we are struck with a fear that we can’t understand. we’ve been watching people dance and sing for more than an hour at this point, but when paul does it, it’s horrifying. you can hear it in the audience reactions- sure, they laugh eventually, but that first dance move? no laughs. just gasps. 

there’s a lot of things that lead to this moment of terror- as i said above, setting paul as the main character in a horror instead of in a musical is a big one. another big one, honestly, is “show stopping number”. other than emma in the coffee song, it’s the first time we’ve seen a non-infected character sing, and emma and ted are scared. it’s a funny song, so we don’t really think about how they’re feeling, but it really plants the seed (pun intended) for the fear that we feel later, when paul sings in a much less funny song

and that’s the other thing about that song- it’s funny, but only kind of. sure, paul is making some funny facial expressions, but he’s also obviously in pain, and the whole time his goal is to complete a suicide mission, and it’s hard to forget that.

plus, those goofy facial expressions? not really that goofy. we’ve been watching paul for a long time now, and we have never seen him grin like that, make a face even remotely similar to the ones that he makes in this song. and that’s more a compliment to the acting than to the writing, but this song lends itself really well to something like that- it’s a very jekyll and hyde situation, as paul is “split in two,” and it’s. terrifying.

so. that’s “let it out”. really the first time this show feels like horror, and that leads into why “inevitable” is so good (and also so horrifying)

because at the end of “let it out,” paul succeeds. we’re rooting for him to overcome the singing, and he does!! he’s been singing for a few minutes, but when he finally pulls the pin in the grenade, it’s with a spoken line, a spoken line that tells us paul is still himself- i don’t like musicals.

and we think wow! great! he did it! sure, he might’ve died in the process, but that’s something we expect in horror- a common horror trope is to have one character to survive as the “storyteller”, and it’s pretty clear pretty early on that that character is going to be emma. so when paul doesn’t survive, and emma is the only one to make it out, it’s pretty easy to accept that fact.

but then ... paul’s not dead.

and for a moment, just a moment, we’re allowed to believe that this story can have a happy ending. because that’s what emma believes- against all odds, they both survived! they get to be together again!

and the genius in this song comes in the delay of emma’s feelings, which gives us the time to get fully horrified. when paul first enters, he doesn’t say anything. he’s smiling, and laughing a little bit, and it’s paul’s smile, not the smile we saw a few minutes before as paul was breaking apart. and emma doesn’t know exactly what happened at the meteor- all she knows is that paul is here and smiling at her and hugging her and!! it’s happy!! she’s happy and he’s happy and the audience wants so desperately to believe it, that we do.

and then ..... paul sings. he sings an apology, tells emma that she “lost.”

and emma isn’t scared at first. grief and panic do weird things to people, people have different responses to it, so emma (and the audience) believe for a minute that maybe paul’s just joking!! emma laughs and so do we, but then.. paul keeps singing. emma begs him to stop, to knock it off, and he keeps singing.

and at this point, we know paul. we know that he is, fundamentally, a good guy, and that he cares about emma a lot. so to see emma pulling away, and to see paul holding on to her, to see emma begging him to get away and to see him chasing after her, that’s wrong. the words he’s singing are sweet and romantic- in a normal musical, this song could be the “get together” song, where the main love interests finally confess their feelings.

instead, this song turns everything on its head.

because it’s not just that paul is infected now, nope. the fact that paul is here, and that the other infected characters are here, means that paul’s sacrifice in the previous scene meant nothing. he went through that pain and agony, he made the decision to sacrifice himself, and in the end, it didn’t matter at all.

this ending was, well, inevitable.

and that’s the scariest thing of all- no matter what these characters did, no matter what sacrifices they made for each other, they couldn’t do anything to save themselves or the people they loved.

(also, sidenote, i think “not your seed” is the other best song in this show, for similar reasons- tone. it’s really the first moment that completely sucks you out of the comedy. but the next song is “show stopping number,” which is incredibly funny, so “not your seed” doesn’t change the tone of the rest of the show in the way that “let it out” and “inevitable” do)

#the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #starkid #uuhhHHH anyway. take this #i've listened to the soundtrack so many times already please help me #mine

[aj-draws]

Our Heartstrings

July 18th was the day Sly made the sacred post. I suppose you could consider this a one month anniversary for The Heart Squad! 

So this is a short story that explains how it feels like being on Tumblr, and how lucky I am to have such amazing friends. Because I like mixing fantasy and magic with my writing to make it more exciting, there’s a bit of a...twist that you’ll see :)

If you wanna scroll past this, feel free to, I don’t mind! This is personal writing of mine that I wanted to share, and if you’re curious about me (since this reflects me as a person as well), then you can go ahead and read this.

(Note! Some things I write about not might be necessarily true. The way I describe things might not be accurate, but behind the screen, that is what I see and interpret. It’s just my way of seeing things, my perspective, so uhh don’t get mad if I’m wrong lol??) 

(Another side note! This is completely related to the story involving The Heart Squad that we’re working on. Just wanted to make that clear)

Either way, have a lovely day, everyone! :D

@danyulsdimple @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @bubblseri @phlying-squirrel

(I’m gonna put a cut because this actually became really long? Whoops I still don’t regret a thing lmao-)

But first, an explanation. 

I...have this weird habit. I guess it stems from me being a detail oriented writer, but whenever I meet someone new and get to know them after an extended period of time, I have specific ways to describe that person. Similarly, this also happens for characters from new shows that I watch. For Sanders Sides, well, there’s that ‘Describing Sanders Sides Ships’ that I wrote. For Analogical, I think of an evening sunset, or for Logicality, the sun and the moon comes to mind-things like that.

Writing has always been very personal to me. Most of my art comes without thought, you see, there usually isn’t some secret message hidden in it. But whenever I write, it’s always to tell a story. Writing has posed a difficult and unpredictable, but rewarding challenge for me. I haven’t been able to write something so passionately for quite a long time, so thank you for that. <3

You all are awesome. Creating this little group has been so much fun, and having you guys be there means a lot to me. Sometimes it’s hard to express that, so I hope I can make that a little more clear with this little story. 

This is for my dear friends.

To Lea, whose openness and humor lets me smile and laugh with ease. 

To Piper, whose positive impact on others has caused me to admire her from afar.

To Sly, whose fascinating, patient personality provides comfort and stability. 

To Sienna, whose bright and kind nature has warmed my heart. 

This one is for you. I love you guys 💜💜💜

The red string of fate. 

It is said to be an unbreakable string of scarlet that binds soulmates. Just like how fate is more than what people make it out to be, so are the strings. 

I’d know. 

Because love comes in so many different forms, I’ve already had several strings when I was little. 

On my left hand was the comforting kind of love. The kind that gave me a small, soft smile when my mother kissed my head. Or when I couldn’t stop laughing over something my father joked about. Not just that, but even how proud I get when my sister compliments my art. Two strings tied to my parents wraps around my index finger, to lead me in the right direction. On the other hand, a string from my sister is looped around my thumb, which assured me that I could do anything. 

I’m glad the strings are weightless, because my right hand would feel as heavy as a dumbbell if they weren’t. My right hand symbolizes platonic love. A string instantly becomes attached the moment I interact with someone. It first starts around the wrist, and as you get to know the person, the string moves. The middle finger is where hatred for that person resides, the thumb for those that are simply acquaintances that cheer me on from afar, and the index finger is reserved for good-natured, honest best friends that bring out the best in me. 

My ring and pinkie fingers remain untouched. 

Now, the ring finger, I understand. If I were to feel affection toward a friend, perhaps a string might find a home around my ring finger. But my pinkie? What does such a tiny, trivial finger represent? 

Now back to the myth. As you can see, there is truth behind what is only known as a legend. 

But there is one thing that they got wrong.

Tapping the power button on my laptop, I lean back in my chair. I sigh, long and quiet, all the while tugging and massaging my fingers. Faint aching at my joints causes me slight discomfort, but it’s nothing unusual. After finishing seven drawings in a hour or two, what do you expect?

I rest both hands atop my keyboard and let all of my fingers stretch in front of me, admiring the strings. I smile, I really do...I can’t help but flinch when I feel my grin dissipate. 

The strings are a fading white, completely empty of color. 

All the rich, vibrant shades of red that they talked of was untrue. Seeing the strings makes my heart soar, but their colorless, bleak nature is bound to bring a bit of gloom from time to time. 

I constantly wonder why. Was I supposed to see color? Do I see colors when I reach a certain age? Am I broken? Why-

The screen comes alive, and the light that radiates from the letters on the keyboard bring me back to reality. Clicking on the blue logo that I know all too well, I find myself smiling right away. 

Online friends are an interesting case. Since I’ve never physically met them, they don’t have strings. I can leave asks on as many people’s blogs as I want, but not a single string appears. 

...There were four exceptions. Let me tell you about them. 

-

She is the countryside. 

She is the short walk to a nearby town, where the buildings huddle together and lights reflects off each other’s windows. There are quiet voices, the occasional booming cackle and the clinking of glasses. The streets and roads are mostly empty, but it is inside the stores and shops where laughter and chatter belong. 

There is a homely feeling to this small town. You could always find her wandering around, going from building to building leaving smiles and bright faces. Whether it’s complimenting others or joining a protection squad, she is there with the town, reveling in the closeness of their companionship.

And then you are home. You are where the houses become scattered and the concrete roads become gravel or sand. Gazing out over the horizon, there is only the gentle swaying of tall crops and a setting sun. 

You remain outside, sitting down and watching the sun fade away. Light falls and darkness rises, covering you with a blanket of constellations and glittering stars. With no factories or skyscrapers close by, the sky can breathe. 

When your back drops against the ground and the grass meets your hair, she grins beside you. She laughs along when you point out the constellations, remarking that they look like things they definitely aren’t supposed to look life. She is the lift of your lips, the sparkle in your eyes.

Lying down with the smell of fresh grass and cool air lingering upon my nose, I feel calm. Her presence, though it is not entirely familiar, is peaceful.  

But she is not always peaceful. In a place where there are nothing but fields and flatlands, you are bound to find something to liven things up. 

When the colorful leaves drop from trees and a chilling breeze settles in, you could be chatting with friends in that bustling coffee shop in town, or be in a library, immersing yourself in an interesting book. Even indoors, you are sitting by the fireplace or watching movies. You could be smelling the blooming flowers and morning dew, visiting gardens and climbing trees. Then all of a sudden, you’re dancing, barefoot, with the stars hanging over your head, a popping firecracker in your hand as you take in the warmth of July.

Whatever it is, it is new and exciting. Taking something so simple and making it worthwhile is an admirable feat. 

You do not know this place well, that is for sure. But you wish you do. You wish you could. The countryside is filled with wonders that you hope to explore and learn about in the future.

As you sit upright, you glance down. That faint swish on your wrist was indeed not the grass, but a string. 

All you can do is hope she feels the same. 

We are connected, the countryside and I. 

-

She is a city. 

Sometimes she feels distant, just like how New York City is to me, but I don’t mind. She isn’t constantly a part of my life, and yet every time I drive down that bridge, look into the river and see those shining buildings, I’m filled with excitement. 

The city is an acquired taste, something that you maybe wouldn’t enjoy unless you’ve visited it on multiple occasions. Even for me, a person who was born and raised in such a place for most of her life, the city takes some getting used to. 

In some parts, the buildings glitter like gold. With its polished glass windows, allowing sunlight to grace its surface all too perfectly, and elegant architecture, you are almost fooled by its facade. 

Then you could turn your head and see tired, drooping eyes, voices yelling into phones and people crossing streets with a red traffic light hanging over their heads. 

Insecurity disguises itself within beauty. 

And she is always there. 

The sun begins to set, bringing upon the shadows, the people and the lights. I’m stuck within a crowd of people, and I’m still alone.

After not being in the city for several months, things don’t seem all that beautiful anymore. 

Suddenly the echoing footsteps of the people around me doesn’t sound so soothing. The buses roar, lions that snarl and growl intensely. Cars screech to abrupt stops, paying no attention to the rapid honking or the blinking stoplights. Above me, the trains let out bellowing cries as they bang against the rickety steel tracks.

She is there, pulling me to safety. Away from the dreadful noises, from the crowd, until there is tranquil silence. In order to ease the tension, she cracks a small joke.

Now, just for a moment, I can laugh in peace.

There is a tug at the corner of her lips as she sets off into the city. I follow alongside her. For a little while, things don’t feel overwhelming anymore. There are no due dates, no drawing requests to get done, no stories that are begging to be written. I can see the city for what it truly is.

Just like her, the city is real. Its raw, imperfect magnificence is bound to stun anyone, as long as they take the time to get to know its delighting qualities. 

She is the embodiment of stupid, but brilliantly amusing conversations in the middle of the night. She speaks in the language of references, using words in a way that will make you giggle. Her words come quickly, in a rush that ends as soon as it appeared, but that refreshing feeling of a car speeding past you will never stop being exhilarating. 

She tends to change a lot. One moment she’ll be bubblegum pink, a rose dripping in paint. Then the warm tones of golden sunflowers, or even a cat stalking through the night. All the colors and scents shift from one theme to another-her love for aesthetics never ceases to impress me. 

She moves quickly and easily, but she will never completely abandon you. If she disappears for a couple of minutes, you can rest assured that she’ll come running back bearing a smile and a funny story. As fast as a subway train, she will jump from one topic to another, whether it’s about crazy school stories or cantaloupes. 

Her relatable humor will lift a chuckle from one’s throat, lightening up someone’s mood like how the lamp posts along the sidewalks come alive at night. Light pours in through the windows of buildings, illuminating the jet black sky. In the same way, she, with her exciting personality, is able to brighten one’s day. 

Only when you’re sitting on the roof of a building will you be able to appreciate her. When you sit still, taking in the view, just listen. She will be there. Not everyone enjoys the city the first time around, but I promise you, there’s always something there that’ll make you smile. 

She doesn’t even live in a city, so for all I know, she could have no idea what I’m talking about.

But as a person who has lived in one and loved it with all her heart-that’s saying a lot. 

She smiles softly, saying goodbye before turning her head to the city. She stares, almost in a daze, at the skyscrapers and flashing lights. She rises, jumping off the ledge, hitting a metal staircase attached to the side of the building. Rushing down the steps, she doesn’t look back once.

You aren’t worried. She will return, one way or another.

The wind picks up, a light breeze that mirrored her swift movements. I stand up and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, noticing the tingling sensation that momentarily crossed my wrist. I look down and grin. 

We are connected, the city and I. 

-

They are a forest.

Personally, I haven’t spent much time in forests, so I think of them are rare. Unique. Where I live, there’s always been random patches of trees here and there, but never forests. 

I think forests have plenty of hidden beauty. There’s just something captivating about entering a forest in the midday, seeing the light filtering in through the trees. Every tree’s branches spreads out far and wide, their long arms stretching out to embrace the glorious, radiant sun, but also weaving together to create a blanket of protection over the forest floor. 

Forests means freedom. You could run, run, run: fast, far and even a little careless, but the support of the forest is always apparent. As you dash through the woods, you notice everything you could ever love about being able to express yourself. There’s the scent of pine cones and dirt, the gust of air that blows your hair into a tornado, and the babbling brook that you easily soar across.

But when the night fell-everything all of a sudden became more terrifying. 

It isn’t the forest itself that frightens you-it’s what surrounds it. There are howls of stalking predators, jaws snapping wildly. Voices come from the swaying trees and whistling wind, rapidly increasing whispers that made your legs tremble. Their vile words yank and snatch at the remnants of my sanity, draining all of the energy and hope out of me. The sounds are not there to hurt you necessarily, but sickening feeling persistently tugging at your stomach isn’t the most comforting thing either. 

They tell you that you’re not supposed to be there. Maybe you don’t deserve to discover any of the forest’s intriguing mysteries, or experience the gorgeous lights of a city, or even the simple excitement of the countryside. What if you’re being bothersome, or overbearing? What if-

The forest does not like ‘what ifs’. The forest does not mean to scare you, or make you feel out of place. 

The wind begins to ease up, the steady breeze soothing your shaking hands. As you look down, you close your eyes and listen once more. To the faint chirping of the cicadas, the rustling leaves and swishing branches. 

They appear at your side in your moments of unexpected, excessive doubt and panic. When your eyelids flutter open and you see them beside you, you are grounded. Safe. You start to talk to them, their tone hushed and quiet, as if they’re afraid of scaring you. You could never be scared of them. Perhaps worried that these conversations might be too time consuming for them, yes, but never scared. 

They show you the forest as it is: fascinating, patient, understanding and even showing a bit of fear from time to time. The forest is as welcoming as it is calming, and you enjoy that.

You never expected that you would ever experience happiness from a night as horrible as that one, but you did. The thoughts never destroyed you because the forest was there to protect you. 

Within the pitch black, there was light. Fireflies danced throughout the forest, their luminosity making me smile that night. 

When your eyelids felt heavy and your yawns grew longer, they told you to sleep. It was late, they spoke, and you need rest. You reluctantly gave in to this request.

Just before you were pulled into a deep slumber, something brushes against your wrist. The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you lose consciousness.

We are connected, the forest and I.

-

She is a meadow. 

I wish with all my heart that I could travel more often. I’ve only seen meadows through videos and pictures, but as an introvert that appreciates nature, I’d love to see one someday. 

All I can imagine is light and beauty. The ground dips into smooth, elegant valleys and rises in the form of rolling hills. The sky mirrors the sun’s movements, changing its colors as it dances across the heavens. If you only you were there to see it-the dazzling, radiant meadow at work, stunning you with its abundance of warmth.

After wandering around momentarily, you shiver, turning around and stiffening. The wispy, cotton-like clouds that were just drifting through the sky had transformed into something worse. You tremble in sync with the ground beneath your feet, feeling your breathing become choppy and unsteady. The loud, booming, angry noises sink into your mind, not giving you a chance to recover. All you can hear is the regret, all you can feel is the doubt and all you can see is the fear. 

You see her. Never once had she not been there for me. 

Hearing her footsteps, the noises disappear. The grey clouds linger for a second, before giving in to the blue skies and sunshine. The storm does not come for the meadow, whose genuine joy is something that cannot be easily purged. 

She comes with words-happy, lovely words woven together in the dandelions that surrounded her. She sits down, a smile on her face as she invites you to pick the flowers with her. The flowers’ colors are grounding and gentle to the touch. 

For every flower that you take, her kind words flood your eyes. One tells you that you are amazing, the second that you are talented, and another that you deserve all the happiness in the world. Each one carries laughter, brings excitement and makes you grin. One after another, as the dandelions fill your lap, her compassion fills your heart. 

There is one more dandelion. Once your fingers brush against its petals, you can hear it right away.

It reminds you that you are loved. 

Pressing that one to your chest, you can feel your smile grow, which was almost impossible considering how wide it was beforehand. You like that specific flower a lot, you admit. Sometimes you forget.

Her arm rests along your shoulders, her smile comforting you. She knows, and that is precisely why she says it.

The meadow, in all of its glory, embraces you. She whispers, telling you how sorry she is, and how much you are loved. You can smell it in the dandelions, and you can feel it in your heart. You do not deserve her. 

Are you okay, she asks with worry still lacing her voice. Upon spotting a string twirling around your wrist, you giggle and let yourself breathe. Without a doubt, you are alright, you answer.

We are connected, the meadow and I.

-

You might be asking, what about me? If one’s the countryside, the second’s a city, another is a forest, and the other is a meadow, then what am I?

The thing is: I had no idea.

I never saw myself as anything extravagant, or special. I don’t have the brightness of a city, the homely feel of the countryside, the soothing nature of a forest, or even the warmth of a meadow. What do I have? 

A tug on my wrist. Faint, but urgent. I glance up at the screen. 

I am...wanted...? Hm. I wonder. 

I’m walking, blind. My eyes are closed and I cannot will them open. But the four are by my side, so I know all is fine. 

The darkness clears, bringing in light. 

Dunes of soft sand spreads out in a blanket of golden as far as I can see. The sunlight casts its rays over the shoreline, causing glittering, hidden shells to reveal themselves. I stare in utter awe at the waves-at how, with every passing second, the colors seem to change. First, it’s turquoise, then azure, and suddenly cerulean. The shades of blue shift and churn peacefully, emitting the scent of salt. 

A beach. 

Maybe...Maybe I do belong. I don’t doubt it as much anymore. 

I stretch my hand out to the sea. I long for it, after all. Then, instead of focusing on the ocean, my gaze travels to my wrist. 

Four strings lift from their place and begin to move, following the movements of the gentle breeze. Once unfurled from my wrist, they leap-

And find a comfortable spot around my pinkie. 

Each string is filled with a color. 

Green for the city.

Pink with flecks of gold for the countryside. 

Red for the forest.

Yellow for the meadow. 

Purple for the beach.

Once upon a time, five colors met. They have never been the same since. 

They made a promise. It wasn’t too real or serious, just a dream that they hope with all their might would come true. They wish to one day meet each other. 

When this dream was made apparent that all five of them shared, purple smiled. Purple’s heart sung with joy, for she was once again reminded that she belonged. She sits, in front of her screen, closing her eyes and extending her pinkie. Purple wishes to meet the four vibrant, wonderful colors. 

One day, purple hopes. For now, she will remain at her screen: pencil to paper, fingers to keyboard. She is content with sharing herself this way, but...perhaps, with time...she will not be afraid of posting that picture. 

They all have their differences, yet they are still friends. 

They are The Heart Squad. ❤️💚💖💛💜

#the <3 squad #personal writing #the <3 squad anniversary #I'm tempted to do like?? Short stories for every month on the 18th?? #Just because this was super fun #Who knows? :3 #fave