#i said my domain was the domain of the awareness of my ignorance in the face of the vast universe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannahmanderr · 11 months

Text

Supernova Chapter 2 - Collision Course

(AO3)

In which leadership of the Infinite Realms proves itself to be more dysfunctional than expected.

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

"Are you sure it’s wise to alert him of this so soon?”

Pandora stared fixedly at the center of the chamber. “It is true that I do not know him near as well as you do. My interactions with him have been limited, but in the few interactions I have been fortunate to have, I have seen his true core shine through. Humans would call him of pure heart. He is of a goodness embodied by few others throughout history.”

She turned to look Frostbite square in the eye. “Whether it is wise, only the Timekeeper and whatever higher power may be will know. But I am confident that he deserves to know.”

“Does he?” One of his claws scratched absently at the wooden crescent table. “There is no question that he has earned the right to be involved, but is it fair to him to burden him with such a dire situation? We don’t even know if he is aware of the circumstances the Realms are in. And there is no guarantee his aid will be necessary.”

Pandora’s knuckles became pale as the grip on her spear tightened. “In a situation such as this, we must be prepared for the worst. His skills as a warrior have saved the Realms time and time again. We would be fools to ignore the asset he offers.”

“... Of course I agree. You know I do. It’s just… he’s just so young… And what if…?”

She bowed her head and closed his eyes. “We… we cannot allow our affection for him to cloud our judgment. We still have a duty to the Realms that we must fulfill first and foremost.”

“... Yes. Of course.” Frostbite’s ears drooped. “This is how it must be.”

A thick silence fell between the two. Only the sounds of the crackling flames lighting the torches and Frostbite’s scratching echoed against the chamber walls.

“Perhaps he will appreciate the forewarning,” Frostbite said after several long minutes. “Especially with the threat of the return of…”

“Pray tell, what might this threat be?”

They both turned their heads at the sound of the new voice. Another ghost stepped through one of the seven doors in the chamber (this one stamped in bright reds, yellows, and blues). Cloudy gray eyes held a sharp focus on the two, and his arms - both sets of them - came to rest in a loose fold in front of him.

“Welcome, Kala. I trust your journey went smoothly,” Pandora greeted, unfazed by this ghost’s arrival. She and Frostbite both dipped their heads in a polite bow, to which he responded in kind. A trail of storm clouds followed in his footsteps as he made his way to the seat to Pandora’s right.

“Yes. As it always is,” Kala replied. His voice rang deep and rumbled across the chamber in waves of thunder. “However, I would still like to know the threat you two are discussing. Need we worry of it?”

Pandora and Frostbite exchanged a cautious glance. “Unfortunately,” Frostbite began, hesitation muddying his voice, “it is the subject of our meeting today.”

Kala raised an eyebrow. “I would’ve imagined we gather to discuss the energy fluctuation from earlier.”

“And we do.” Pandora set her spear on the table. “They are connected.”

“Ooh! Are we talking about that tremor?” Another ghost entered the room, this time through the door made of dark wood with elaborate carvings adorning its frame. “I’ve just been dying to talk with someone about that! Well, not actual dying, of course, don’t be ridiculous, but come on! This stuff is right up my alley!”

“Ah, Zunje.” Kala clapped one set of hands together, and they all exchanged head bows. “Yes, of course. I trust you have a report ready on the nature of the fluctuation? Seeing as it is your domain.”

Zunje flipped her silky silver hair out of the way to grab a tablet from her satchel. “Don’t you know it! I haven’t had the chance to really dig down into the deep analysis yet, but I’ve been studying this thing since it passed through. Such rare magic! I hardly ever get the chance to examine such fine quality workmanship.”

“So you believe it was the work of someone else? Another ghost, perhaps?” Frostbite leaned toward her as she took her spot in between him and Pandora.

Zunje frowned. “Well now, that’s the tricky bit. See, I -”

“Nah nah, don’t worry about it man! That old boat was worthless anyway.” The door that looked like a manhole cover swung open with a flutter of its metal. Someone short and stout passed through, backside first, still speaking to whoever was on the other side. “We good for the same time next week?”

Kala only sighed and shook his head, and Pandora cleared her throat. “Babel? Care to join us?”

The newcomer whipped their head around a clean 180 degrees, though their body remained still. “Huh? Oh! Sorry ‘bout that, PanPan!” They waved a hand, and the door’s fabric blew shut with a loud clang. “Bowling night! What can ya do, huh?”

Zunje folded her hands and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers. “What did you use this time?” she asked, grinning.

“Oh ho ho, you’ll like this one, Zoombini!” They continued to laugh to themselves as they jumped up to sit in the chair on the far right end of the table, directly across from Frostbite. “We was using all those jewels I found with that human thief we snagged the other day! Boy, I gotta tell ya, diamond bowling pins can take just about any hit!”

“Is it wise to take stolen human goods and steal them again?” Frostbite said. Something in his eyes looked appalled by the suggestion alone.

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it!” Babel said with another wave of their hand. They snapped twice. “There, see? Back home, safe and sound where they belong. Easy peasy! Oops, wait. Almost forgot my yogurt.” They snapped once more, and a yogurt cup with a drinking straw in it appeared in their hand. They took a long, loud slurp and sighed contentedly.

“I would ask that you kindly refrain from interfering with human business like that again,” Kala muttered. “And that you refrain from… drinking your yogurt so loudly.” He held his temple, giving the impression of someone who’d begun to feel a migraine coming on.

“Seconded.” The agreement came from a ghost in the form of a young girl, no older than eight. Her stony expression only highlighted the intensity of her eyes of fire and hair of magma. Without another word, she sat in the final unoccupied seat, in between Kala and Babel, and stared at her colleagues with a glare of indifference. “Well? Do we begin or no?”

“Greetings, Pele,” Kala said to the girl. “Yes, let us begin. Frostbite, if you would please start.”

Frostbite nodded and stood. He held a fist over the center of his chest and bowed his head. “I, Frostbite, Ancient Master of Healing, offer my eternal servitude to the mending and restoration of the Infinite Realms. I solemnly swear this, or may my core melt to nothing.” No sooner had he finished speaking than a blue glow engulfed his area of the room and table.

Babel stood next, mimicking Frostbite’s motions. “I, Babel, Ancient Master of Chaos, offer my eternal servitude to the regulation and deployment of righteous disorder in the Infinite Realms. I solemnly swear this, or may my core succumb to the confines of purity.” Purple light exploded to life around them.

Zunje stood. “I, Zunje, Ancient Master of Magic, offer my eternal servitude to the powers and energies that give life to the Infinite Realms. I solemnly swear this, or may my core cease to give me spirit.” She was immediately bathed in a green glow.

“I, Pele, Ancient Master of Battle, offer my eternal servitude to the fields of combat and the wars of the Infinite Realms. I solemnly swear this, or may my core fade away in peace.” A pink glow washed over her.

Pandora stood, glancing at Frostbite one last time before reciting her vow. “I, Pandora, Ancient Master of Hope, offer my eternal servitude to the preservation of faith and light in the Infinite Realms. I solemnly swear this, or may my core waste away in the pits of misery and sorrow.” Turquoise light surrounded her and her seat.

Kala, as the oldest of Ancients, was the last to go. “I, Kala, Ancient Master of Justice, offer my eternal servitude to the enforcement of integrity and order in the Infinite Realms. I solemnly swear this, or may my core lose itself to the depravity of corruption.” Around him, a red glow burst forth, completing the crescent of colors.

The six Ancients had convened.

Instantly, the fires in the torches flared brighter and began to burn in the hues that surrounded each of the Ancients - blue, purple, green, pink, turquoise, and red. The six members sat down, each lit by their own color.

“And may it be forevermore,” Kala finished with a nod. “Now, Pandora? If you would be so kind as to inform us why you have summoned us. I for one am still plagued by your mention of a threat.”

Pandora nodded and stood. “The day we have feared has come to pass,” she announced. Her words reverberated off the chamber’s stone walls. “Kilaris awakens, and it grows unstable by the minute. We must take action or face the consequences.”

Another silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the scrape of her chair as she resumed her seat at the crescent table. Frostbite’s eyes darted back and forth between his colleagues as he tried to gauge their reactions.

Kala was the first to speak. “Kilaris? But… that’s impossible. How can you even be certain?”

“Well…” Zunje pushed her glasses up her nose, then began tapping furiously at her tablet. “Like I said, I’ve been studying the energy fluctuation ever since it happened, and it’s… complicated. Some serious juice in that thing! Like, way more than any normal energy fluctuation, and those happen all the time. No, this was a deep magic.”

“That would make sense,” Frostbite said. “My lieutenant reported cases of our young being affected by the wave, and they do not feel normal energy fluctuations the same way our full-grown kin can. That is what truly alarmed me. The last time our young felt such a fluctuation was…”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Babel waved their hands wildly, flinging yogurt around. “I don’t get it. How could it be Kilaris? It got all locked up didn’t it? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t sleep through that!”

Pele grunted. “The Heart works in mysterious ways,” she said stoically.

“I will not deny that,” Kala ceded, “but I will also not jump to conclusions based off of the behavior of a few yeti cubs. I am not inclined to believe that this is the work of the Heart, and I will not pass judgment without sufficient evidence to believe otherwise.”

Zunje glanced up briefly before continuing to scroll through her tablet. “Where did I… oh, here! Okay, so I’ll be real here, last time I got to study anything related to the Heart was centuries ago, and I’m still working on uploading data from the Iron Age, like I haven’t even gotten close to the Middle Ages yet! And honestly filing stuff away is boring when I could be running tests. All that’s to say I don’t have the stats to show you here.” She waved her tablet. “But I do remember my last study on Kilaris! … I think? I’m pretty sure. Anyhow, these readings from today, they’re… well… complicated. Like I said.”

“Spit it out already,” Pele said, dry as ever.

“I’m working on it! Yeesh, sorting these things out is a lot harder than it looks! Anyway , what I was gonna say is that I remember those readings way back from when… well, you know… and these ones from today? They’re not really the same. And okay, sure, I haven’t had the time to go super in depth with the analyses of today’s fluctuation, but still.”

“Are there any similarities at all?” Pandora asked.

Zunje gave a noncommittal hum. “... A few? It’s hard to explain. It’s like… well, I keep expecting these readings to look a certain way, right? Because everything about them just screams Kilaris, only they’re not. The patterns, the readouts, everything, they’re all so close to lining up with normal Heart readings, but everything is just slightly skewed. Like someone took Kilaris and… tweaked it.”

“‘Tweaked’ it?” Frostbite leaned forward in his seat. “How could someone tamper with the Heart? It’s been sealed away!”

“Mmm! Mmm!” Babel shouted wordlessly while finishing their gulp of yogurt. “Ah! That stuff really hits the spot, I tell ya! But no, the Heart! I don’t think it’s been sealed away all proper this whole time.”

“What do you mean?” Kala asked slowly. “We were there when Kilaris was sealed away. We… are the ones who did it, after all.”

Pandora’s jaw tightened. Frostbite winced.

“Yeah, but didn’t it technically get unsealed or whatever? When that one dude let Dark loose?”

“Oh my stars,” Zunje whispered. “Of course!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Pele muttered. “It got sealed away again.”

“Precisely!” A shroud of stormclouds began to form around Kala. “Dark was locked away once more, along with the Heart. This cannot be its work!”

“You said you would pass judgment once you obtained all the evidence,” Frostbite said. A thin layer of frost began to form under his paw. “This is hardly enough to pass judgment on! Do you not trust what your fellow Ancients tell you?”

“I have not passed judgment!” Kala thundered.

“Kind of sounds like you’re just writing off the possibility to me.” Zunje shrunk away from Kala even as she spoke, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on her tablet.

“We must at least consider the possibility,” Pandora said. “It is the duty with which we have been charged. If the Heart is truly awake, then do we not have a responsibility to ensure it does not result in undue harm to the Realms?”

Pele looked at Pandora with something akin to disdain. “Why would Kilaris be a threat to the Realms?”

“No! Enough of this! I will go and verify it for myself if need be, but the Heart simply cannot be awake!”

“You underestimate Kilaris, dear Kala.”

The six Ancients froze and turned slowly to the seventh door, the one that had yet to be opened. The plain purple door, much like the ones drifting through the Realms. None of them had heard it open and shut, but there, having just spoken, floated Clockwork, looking on as if he’d been part of the conversation from the beginning.

“Timekeeper,” Kala greeted with a curt bow of his head. “I do not recall you being invited to this meeting.”

Clockwork shrugged. “The door was unlocked. And I heard you discussing Kilaris. I thought now would be as good a time as any to help warn you of its change.”

Zunje looked like she was seconds away from bolting from her seat and making a beeline to Clockwork. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” she asked with barely contained glee.

Clockwork only smiled in response.

“I would like to know what you are implying, Timekeeper,” Pele said, a frown ghosting her face.

“As would I,” Kala echoed. His frown was far more prominent. “And I would still like to understand what in the name of the Realms gives you the right to intrude on this private meeting.”

“My place here is well earned,” Clockwork said, unfazed by the Ancient’s anger.

“And pray tell, what would that place be? Show me.” Kala spread all four arms and looked pointedly around the room.

Seven doors.

Only six seats at the table, each occupied.

Clockwork knew this perfectly well.

“If I were not invited,” he said, “you would not have provided me with a means to come.”

Kala stood abruptly. Clouds fell from his shoulders. “You know perfectly well why that door exists! Your caucus is with the Observant Council, not us. Your door is an act of courtesy, not an open invitation. Now speak, Timekeeper! My patience grows thin, and I wish to move on to more productive conversation.”

Pandora’s grip tightened on her spear.

“If you insist on taking the hard path,” Clockwork sighed. In one swift move, he thrust his staff out and drew a circle with it in midair. A sweep of a clock hand within the circle revealed a dreary castle, floating by its lonesome in the green expanse of the Realms. Zunje squeaked and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Why show us what we already know?” Kala said tightly. “We cursed that land centuries ago. Dark slumbers, alongside Kilaris.”

“Except when he got woken up,” Babel said, their voice high and thin. They’d long since put down their yogurt.

“Exactly!” Zunje fully abandoned her chair and pressed against the table with an ecstatic grin. “He got woken up! And if Pariah Dark awoke -”

“Then Kilaris awoke as well,” Pandora finished, nodding. “I suspected as much. But I don’t understand, Cl- Timekeeper. Why show us the Keep?”

Clockwork ignored Zunje’s eager whimpers. “I am not showing you the Keep,” he said. “I am showing you the consequences of your actions.”

“ What? ” The red light under Kala flickered as he pounded his fists on the table, nearly cracking it. “How dare you -”

“You wish to know why I am here? I am here for the only purpose I am allowed to be here: to deliver a message,” Clockwork said. “A message for the most dire of situations. For the sake of the Infinite Realms.”

“Timekeeper,” Frostbite begged. “Please, just tell us. Help us understand.”

“No! I will hear no more of this charlatan’s deception!” As Kala’s rage grew, a thick mist began to rise from the floor around him, partially obscuring the red glow. “You lied to us with your last prophecy! You tricked us into locking the Heart away! If this is true about Kilaris’ awakening, then you are to blame for this!”

“That is enough !” Pandora now stood, both the fire in her helmet and the turquoise light beneath her flaring. “The Timekeeper is here for the same purpose as we are! Kilaris is growing unstable; this is not the time to affix blame for past mistakes onto one another!”

“This is an affront to justice! I will not stand idly by when he has yet to face punishment for the falsehoods of his predictions regarding Dark! He claims to work for the sake of the Realms, yet he misleads us in the most critical moments! How can we continue to put blind faith in them now? With potential disaster on our doorstep?”

“He’s trying to help!” Zunje protested. “He’s trying to tell you what I’m trying to tell you! If Kilaris is awake then that means -”

“Are we about to fight?” Pele asked. For the first time since arriving, her face lit up in mild interest. “May I watch? It’s been too long since I’ve seen a good fight.”

“No, we are not about to fight!” Pandora banged the end of her spear against the stone floor. “We are all going to talk about this with the same dignity and respect that we have been entrusted with!”

“Dignity that he has tarnished!” Kala jabbed a finger in Clockwork’s direction. “The Realms fell to near ruins because of his deceit! Are you truly expecting us to abide by every word he speaks? He twists the truth to force the timeline to his will!”

“That may be so,” Clockwork said amicably, “but it is my sacred duty to do so.”

“Hang on, I’m confused. Your sacred duty is… lying?” Babel asked with a raised eyebrow. Their shoulders deflated. “Man, and I thought I had the best sacred duty!”

“Just as you as the Ancient Council have been entrusted with a duty to the Infinite Realms, I have had a similar duty entrusted to me. Anything I do is to the ends of that duty. You may choose to believe me or not, but it will not change the truth, and it will not change the gravity of the situation.”

“Please, let’s hear him out,” Frostbite pleaded. “See? We are all on the same side.”

“I do not want to be made a fool again,” Pele said, folding her arms and leaning back into her seat. “I do not trust that this will not result in disaster again.”

“Nor do I.” Kala’s thunderous eyes fell on each of the four remaining Ancients. “And I would be inclined to call anyone led to believe the Timekeeper’s falsehoods a fool!”

Pandora whirled on Kala. “You dare call me a fool? When I too have the interests of the Realms at core? You are not the only one looking out for them!”

“That may be so, but he has only his own interests to look out for!”

Clockwork tilted his head. “Would you like to hear me out first, perhaps?”

“ I will -”

“ STOP! ” Zunje shouted with a release of a powerful green blast of energy that cracked against the floor. A hush fell over the chamber as each person stared at the normally well-tempered Ancient.

“If you don’t want to listen to the Timekeeper, then fine! Don’t listen to him!” she said, her voice escalating in pitch. “But you are bound by the Realms to listen to me , and I’m telling you that he’s trying to give us a warning, a real one! This is some seriously bad stuff we’re talking, and magic that we would be absolutely insane to try and interfere with!”

“Did we ever get that warning?” Babel asked timidly, fidgeting with the crushed yogurt cup they held.

“I believe I never got the opportunity,” Clockwork said. He turned so that his red eyes bore straight into Kala’s. “If you’ll allow me to continue then?”

The two spirits stared at each other for a long moment. Frostbite and Pandora tensed, ready to jump back into action. Zunje had leaned forward again and was near the point of toppling onto the table. Babel was by far the most anxious of the group, and Pele simply watched the scene, having returned to her bored expression.

Finally, Kala’s shoulders dropped, though his face retained its storminess. “Fine. I will listen to the Timekeeper’s warning, as is my responsibility to the Infinite Realms. But it is only to fulfill that responsibility. I will be hard-pressed to reverse my judgment of the matter.”

“More like you won’t reverse your judgment of Clockwork,” Frostbite muttered, nearly inaudible.

“Much obliged, Kala,” Clockwork said with a polite nod. “Yes, as Zunje has so kindly reminded us, I am here to deliver a warning, a result of the consequences of the Timeline that has been followed. The sealing of the Heart of the Infinite Realms has led to this moment, and you must take heed. Kilaris no longer recognizes its host. It yearns to escape the confines you have placed upon it, and it will not stop until it has reached this goal, regardless of the cost.”

There was a beat of silence, then Zunje spoke up. “See? I was trying to tell you! Kilaris was woken up when Dark got released the first time around. And now that he’s back, sleeping in the Sarcophagus, so should the Heart! But if the Heart is still awake…”

“... then it has chosen a new champion,” Kala finished.

Babel’s yogurt cup clattered to the floor. “Whoa, really? Phew! About time!”

“So just find the new host and crown them,” Pele said. “No need for this nonsense.”

“But how are we to know who Kilaris has chosen?” Frostbite asked. “It hasn’t chosen a ruler like this in millenia! And we’ve always at least had a semblance of an idea of who the candidate would be.”

“Well, in theory, it shouldn’t be too hard.” Zunje turned back to her tablet and began tapping and scrolling once more. “It should be able to find the ruler on its own. Like I keep saying, it’s some seriously strong magic. I mean we’ve all seen how powerful that bond can be between Kilaris and its chosen, you know? And since it would be idiotic to try and mess with that magic, all we gotta do is let the Heart out and it’ll take care of the rest.”

“Uh, only one problem with that, Zuzu,” Babel said. They pointed at the image of the castle still hovering in the middle of the chamber. “The Heart’s still in there . With him . I mean you know me, I’m always down for a bit of chaos, but I ain’t about to just let him out like that, you feel?”

The magma of Pele’s hair glowed a brighter yellow. “Dark would be foolish to try and face me in battle again,” she all but growled. “It is only because of Kilaris he won last time.”

“Absolutely not!” Frostbite and Kala yelled at the same time. They looked at each other, and Frostbite pressed his ears against his head in embarrassment.

“I cannot in good countenance risk opening the Sarcophagus again,” Kala said, shaking his head. “Not after the havoc he wrought upon the Realms during his reign, and not after how quickly he moved through the Realms and the Mortal Plane upon his reawakening. Zunje, you say this power runs deep. Is it not strong enough to break the bonds of the Sarcophagus itself?”

Zunje pushed her glasses up again. “Oh yeah, totally! Like the Timekeeper said, that’s what it’s trying to do right now. The spell we put on the Sarcophagus is powerful - especially since it’s got all six of our essences, I mean very few things are gonna match that power - but nothing can stand up to the power of the Heart. If you wanted me to make a bet, I’m guessing based on the strength of Kilaris in general and the strength of the sealing spell on the Sarcophagus…” She paused and tapped a set of numbers into a calculator app. “We’ve probably got a little more than a day before it’s able to break free. Give or take.”

“But won’t that also result in Dark’s release?” Frostbite asked. “If Kilaris breaks the seal, wouldn’t that allow him to escape too?”

“Ooh. Uh, yeah. Good point.” Zunje grimaced. “In that case, we’d have to find the new ruler first. Initiate the transfer ourselves to avoid that happening and all.”

“Easier said than done!” Babel had snapped another yogurt cup into his hands and had been eating it by the handful. He paused now with strawberry yogurt coating his hand and mouth. “There’s like, a bazillion ghosts in the Realms! We’d be finding a piece of hay in a needlestack!”

Pele looked at Babel with mild disgust. “I think you mean a needle in a haystack.”

“... Eh. I prefer it my way.”

“Then we must begin the search at once,” Kala declared, standing again. “We will need every resource available to us to find the new champion before the Heart breaks the seal on the Sarcophagus.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t need to look far,” Clockwork piped up. The Ancients looked at him, having nearly forgotten he was present. “I believe one of you might have an accurate idea of where to start looking.”

“Don’t look at me!” Babel raised their hands, flinging a blob of yogurt onto Pele, where it sizzled on her skin. “I mean yeah, I was kinda thinking we could do something where we test it by going lair to lair and asking them the color of their socks, but I’m still workshopping it.”

“Ghosts don’t need socks,” Zunje said with a frown.

“‘Course ghosts need socks! Like I know this one guy all the way out towards the Banished Spire, and he’s an octopus, right? Great dude, we was on the same bowling team earlier. Anyway, guy’s got a whole closet full of socks! Wears a different one on each tentacle every day!”

“What does the color of socks have to do with them being the host?” Pele asked, entirely unamused.

“It’s got everything to do with it! I’ll let ya in on a little secret: all the good kings and queens have had socks with green polka dots! Maybe the Heart has a thing for polka dots, eh?”

“I do not believe I know where to start,” Frostbite said, cutting off Babel before Kala exploded in rage again. “And the last time we tried to find a chosen champion…”

“What’s past is past,” Kala grunted. “Pandora? What of you? You have not said a word since the Timekeeper’s warning.”

Pandora had, in fact, frozen in place. The ectoplasm had drained from her face, leaving her looking pale and sickly, even in her turquoise light. Slowly, she turned to look Frostbite in the eye.

“We may need more than his aid as a warrior,” she told him weakly.

Frostbite’s eyes widened in realization.

Another shudder ripped through the chamber.

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

Deep in the Ghost Zone, in the ruins of Pariah’s Keep, the crack in the Sarcophagus of Forever sleep splintered further.

A roar, distant and distorted, rumbled from within the Sarcophagus and echoed across the Realms.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #ghost king danny #hannah writes #clockwork #and if you look to your left #you'll see hannah going way too hard with worldbuilding and LoreTM #i apologize in advance for this chapter

64 notes · View notes

linkspooky · 1 year

Note

Hey so, i hope you don't mind me asking a question about a ship (if you do, then please feel free totally ignore this ask!)

But i wanted to ask what do you think of Gojo and Utahime "dynamic" so to speak? i see many people shipping them together and this mostly comes with the assumption that Utahime is a tsundere that secretly likes Gojo. This however is false as Utahime was stated in multiple interviews that she genuinely like the rest of his peers does not like him particurlarly. In fact he isn't even aware of it, just thinks she's joking around or something. Storywise they just don't seem written as the characters that would complement or contrast each other in any super meaningful way that will lead to either developments or plot progressions or whatever. Their personalities just don't match? If that even makes sense

I don't see Gojo falling in love with any of his female peers (the few of them that exist already) Akutami even stated that he cannot imagine him being sincere or true hearted with someone. I guess this is another reason why Geto's realtionship with him was so impactful and a reason why the whole story basically revolves around it one way or another? It's impossible to talk about one without brining up the other, they are so intervined.

So that is my ask... i have yet to see a detailed opinion that involves critical reading anywhere on this one so i'd love to see what you have in mind if you want to that is :)

Okay, so I’ll do a post on Gojo and Utahime and what I think their relationship represents in the story. Just to be clear this isn’t a shipping post. I agree with your sentiments anon that Gojo and Utahime do not really have much of a relationship besides coworkers. Gege clearly said in an interview that Gojo’s harassment of Utahime is something Gojo thinks that’s a joke they are both in on, whereas Utahime just plain hates him in return. However, the story is comparing them not because they have a personal relationship but they are both teachers with very different attitudes towards teaching.

Gojo is a flawed teacher, in fairness to him though the one time we see him actually teach he does try his best to communicate to Yuji in his own way the basic mechanics of Jujutsu in a way that Yuji will be able to understand it as an outsider. Gojo is also someone who comes up with outside of the box and personal ways of teaching his students that is suited to them when he is working with them on a one on one basis. He also gives an incredibly personalized lessons to Megumi, he has a grasp of Megumi’s problems including his tendency to self sacrifice from something as simple as watching him choose to bunt in the baseball tournament.

. It’s also a lie to say that Gojo doesn’t care about his students, because he clearly does, he only brings Yuji with on his lesson about Domain Expansions because he is absolutely sure that Yuji will not be harmed He makes sure to keep his students out of harms way, most of the time and the one time Yuji does get harmed by fighting a cursed spirit he wasn’t ready for it was the higher ups going behind Gojo’s back.

However, there are a lot of things holding back, one of them is simply time. Gojo is in such high demand in the sorcery world to exercise cursed spirits that he doesn’t often have time to work with his students on the one on one basis that he did with Yuji. For instance, Gojo never really gets one on one time with Nobara, Maki did not see him as a teacher, etc. etc.

When Yuji is handed off to Nanami we are shown right away a couple of the ways that Gojo is lacking as a teacher. First, Gojo skipped a lot of the basics with Yuji. if there’s a reason for this it’s probably Gojo’s own personal flaw that he really only understands the world through his own perspective, he probably just didn’t think he had to bother explaining the basics because he assumed that Yuji already knew them.

There’s a reason Nanami is seen as such a responsible mentor figure by the fandom, in that unlike Gojo he’s the first to remind Yuji that he is still a child, and is mindful of him and his emotional state because he is a child. Nanami draws a clear line between the immaturity of adolescent years and the maturity of adult years. This might be a flaw in Gojo’s perspective because once again, kids grow up fast in the Jujutsu world, they are saddled with a lot of responsibilities and regularly risk their lives on a daily basis even in their high school years. Gojo was also the strongest sorcerer that anyone had ever seen by the time he was in his second year. This could easily explain Gojo’s tendency to just kind of treat the children he’s working with like they are mini-adults. He also prefers to pal around with them, then acting like Nanami who speaks with them in respect to the fact that they are adult and child.

The third is Gojo is taking these students in, specifically to fit a political agenda. As well intentioned as Gojo is for creating a better world, he doesn’t really help these kids for entirely altruistic reasons for the goodness of his own heart. The choice he offered for Megumi was become a sorcerer for me, or become a sorcerer for the Zenin, which implies he was totally willing to just let Megumi get taken to the toxic household of the Zenin family if Megumi turned him down. Megumi was also a small child with no parents at the time a very vulnerable person, and yet Megumi grows up with the idea that he “owes” Gojo something.

His goal to “foster strong allies” has the unspoken subtext that he is only helping foster them because he wants them as allies to his cause. He occasionally uses them in more pragmatic ways, to suit his plans. He sends Panda and Inumaki to get beaten up specifically to provoke Yuta into provoking his true strength. Yes, Gojo had faith that Geto wouldn’t kill them, but he was still gambling with the lives of children he was responsible for. There’s a databook question where Gege clarifies that Gojo only helped Yuta because he thought he had potential as a sorcerer. There’s a foiling in how Geto and Gojo connect to the people around them, when Geto took in Mimiko and Nanako he raised them as a parent, Gege calls him “Papa Geto” in the databook. Gojo is not a father figure to Megumi, he’s probably the farthest thing from it.

All this to compare with how Utahime interacts with her students, and forgive me I am working with limited screentime here for both Utahime and the Kyoto kids. Utahime right away acts more Nanami than Gojo, in that she shows legitimate concern for her students as children that she as an adult is responsible for.

To be fair to Gojo, I think Utahime has some flaws as well. For instance she seems to be unaware of principal Gakuganji’s plan to send the Kyoto kids to kill Yuji. However, Gojo is the stongest sorcerer, he has a lot of political weight to throw around that Utahime is lacking. Utahime has to probably work inside the system while Gojo can go outside of it and occasionally strongarm the elders or threaten them into getting what he wants. However, Utahime is apparently good enough at playing politics she can investigate the inside of the school without raising any red flags. If Gojo’s approach is loud and bombastic, Utahime’s is quiet and subtle.

When Miwa goes down right away, Utahime is the first one to get upset and want to go and retrieve her. On the other hand, Mei Mei and Gojo are kind of unbothered. She also coordinates to see if everyone is okay while they are in the middle of fighting off the intruders.

Once again we don’t really see the kind of teacher Utahime is because of limited screentime, but the Kyoto students act incredibly different than the Tokyo ones. There is an emphasis over and over again on personal connection first exemplified in Mechamaru and Miwa’s connection. Miwa brings up this conflict in the lives of sorcerers, they might die at any moment, and forming connections will only make the loss hurt to much and yet they desire to grow closer.

The Kyoto kids and Tokyo kids represent two halves of this problem, the Kyoto kids are individually weaker but have good cohesion as a group because they choose to grow closer, whereas the Tokyo kids are stronger individually but they almost never fight together in groups because they choose to grow stronger.

They all tend to value personal connections, Mai values her personal connection with Maki more then being a sorcerer, Mechamaru desired to connect with everyone, Todo is someone who fights best when he is working together with Yuji and he is someone even Gojo considers to be one of the sorcerers with the most potential.

Nishimaya values her role as senpai, and feels defensive of both Mai and Miwa. The two times we see them fight, against the Tokyo Kids, and against Kenjaku they have strong group coordination.

We see their attitude towards group coordination, and putting your allies above everything else when Kamo joins the fight in the culling games.

Of course this has an obvious drawback, the Kyoto kids all consider themselves individually weak and they are more willing to sacrifice themselves. Gojo’s words come to mind, “Sorcerers always die alone.” However, a life with no connections at all is empty, and what are you even fighting for at that point? Gojo also, has a pretty skewed perspective. There’s a difference in Gojo’s relationship to Shoko and Utahime’s, in that Utahime and Shoko are close friends Utahime even got Shoko to quit smoking for awhile. Shoko and Gojo are work associates and political allies at best. Gojo is also, unable to really connect with anyone after Geto and he’s had one friend in his whole life, and part of the reason for that friendship is that he believed Geto to be the only person as strong as he was. When Gojo mastered the six eyes and became the strongest, that put a distance in their friendship that fell apart over the course of a year.

Gojo’s views are skewed towards might makes right, and stronger is better, He tends to divide people into weak and strong and assume he can’t connect with the weak. Utahime doesn’t really see people that way. So yeah, the best way to compare them is as teachers, and there is a marked difference in the kind of students they produce. Gojo’s students are all individualists like Gojo which is what makes it so hard t work together, whereas the Kyoto students have a more developed group bond, but are individually weak. I do not think one is better than the other because part of the tragedy of Shibuya arc is that because Gojo’s students failed to work together and all of them ran off to fight on their own, they ended up losing those fights, Yuji loses to Choso, Nobara gets cocky against Mahito and gets her face blown up, Megumi tries to kill himself against a cursed user when he’s too weak to fight. So, there are strengths to their individual teaching styles and weaknesses as well.

#metasks #gojo satoru #utahime iori

86 notes · View notes

antiquitiesandlabyrinths · 6 months

Text

Kemeticism Under the Advice of PtahHotep, the Great One, Vizier of the Pharaoh Isesi

I have mentioned a few times now the teachings of the PtahHotep, the divine father, who lived in the era of the Old Kingdom of Egypt. His teachings are of great influence to me and would be of great use and importance to any practicing Kemeticist who truly desires to know the spirituality of Kemet, of the Netjer, and of the ancient Egyptians. Thus I’ve decided to start a series of posts to share his teachings with those ready to listen, and to explain in greater detail what lessons we can glean from each piece of the great Vizier’s wisdom.

There are 37 maxims and 9 epilogues, but for this post, we will be starting with the prologue. The translation we will be using will generally be Christian Jacq’s, however we will also analyze the direct translation. Jacq’s translation is used to communicate Ptah-Hotep’s ideas in terms and vernacular more familiar to the English language and to modern times. However, a great deal of the time the two translations are quite similar.

Translation of Prologue:

Here is wisdom taught and set down by the noble one, the leader, the divine father, beloved of God, the one who listens in the six great domains, the one whose word forever brings peace to the whole country, the town’s highest official, the Vizier Ptah-Hotep, the great one, serving under His Majesty the King of Upper Egypt, whose symbol is the Sedge, and the King of Lower Egypt, whose symbol is the Bee, the Pharaoh Isesi. May the King live according to the eternity of cycles and the infinity of the instant.

Here is what the director of the town, the Vizier Ptah-Hotep says:

‘Sovereign, my master, old age is upon me, my great age has drained away, exhaustion and weakness have overcome me and I spend each day sleeping as if back in infancy. My eyesight is failing, my ears are growing deaf. There is no strength in my heart. My mouth is silent, it speaks no longer. Thoughts fade and memory fails. All my bones hurt constantly. What was good is now bad; taste has completely vanished. The effects of old age on humans are detestable in every way. My nose is blocked, it can no longer breathe. It is as painful to stand as to sit down.

‘May it be decreed that Ptah-Hotep, this your servant here present, fashion a stick for his old age in the form of a spiritual son. Let me pass on to him the words of those who know how to listen, the instructions of the ancestors, the guides, who, long ago, listened to the divine powers. May I, Ptah-Hotep, succeed in doing this for you. May conflicts be averted thanks to the spiritually aware and may the two banks of the river of life work in your favour.’

His Divine Majesty, the Pharaoh, said: ‘Ptah-Hotep, teach your disciple the word of the Tradition, and may it be a model for the children of the great ones. Once the perfect thought has been expressed, may they be suffused with understanding, for no one is born a sage.’

Here begin the maxims of the accomplished Word of the noble one, leader, divine father, beloved of God, eldest son of the Pharaoh, partaking of his essence, the town’s highest official, the Vizier Ptah-Hotep, teaching knowledge to the ignorant, and the law of the accomplished Word.

For those who listen there is benefit and enlightenment, but those who let it pass will be the losers.

Breakdown:

The first paragraph is an essential introduction of names and titles honoring both the sender/writer of this message, and the receiver, the Great Pharaoh Isesi. From the last line there is a revealing of an idea commonly related to eastern ideologies, and from then on we can find detailed lessons with close gazes.

Lesson

Jacq’s translation

Direct translation

There is a cycle to the earth and a cycle of life which is unbreakable. As well, within even an instant lay an infinity of understanding and perception.

“May the King live according to the eternity of cycles and the infinity of the instant.”

“May He (King Isesi) live according to the eternity of cycles and the eternity of the instant…”

Youth passes into old age; nothing lasts. Connection to our bodies is worth very little. The cycle of life and aging takes us all.

“My master, old age is upon me… exhaustion and weakness have overcome me and I spend each day sleeping as if back in infancy. My eyesight is failing, my ears are growing deaf… no strength in my heart… thoughts fade and memory fails… what was good is now bad.”

“Sovereign, my master, old age has come, a grand old age has struck, weariness has arrived, weakness occurs again. He* (Ptah-Hotep) spends each day as if he had returned to infancy. The eyes are diminished, the ears** constricted, for the one whose heart is tired feels his strength faltering, the mouth… no longer speaks, the heart… does not remember yesterday anymore. The bones are painful due to the length of existence, what is good becomes bad.”

The guidance of our ancestors is a path to our future. The translated term ‘ancestors’ in this context does not indicate that people have been left behind, but instead that they open our path to knowledge as they lay their lessons before us.

“Let me pass on to him the words of those who know how to listen, the instructions of the ancestors, the guides, who, long ago, listened to the divine powers.”

“… would that I could tell him (a spiritual son, i.e a student) the words of those who listen, the directives of those who are in front and who, in times gone by, listened to the divine powers.”

Being spiritually aware avoids conflicts

“May conflicts be averted thanks to the spiritually aware.”

“May the conflicts be rejected, according to those men and women who know***…”

The perfect thought can be expressed but it must be met with perfect understanding. Even with understanding, it must be comprehended fully and enacted within one’s own mind, emotions, and thought process. This is why it is called perfect understanding.

“Once the perfect thought has been expressed, may they be suffused with understanding…”

“May understanding penetrate him (a spiritual son), every correctness of the heart has been said to him…”

No one is born a sage; it something learned and mastered by those capable of opening their minds.

“… for no one is born a sage.”

“… (for) no one is a sage from birth.”

Listening will lead to comprehension, understanding, and enlightenment.

“For those who listen (to the accomplished word) there is benefit and enlightenment; those who let it pass will be the losers.”

“… teaching the ignorant towards knowledge and towards the law of the accomplished word; here is what is luminous**** for whoever listens, but vacuous for whoever bypasses it.”

* - Authors frequently change personal pronoun in Egyptian texts, from ‘he’ to ‘I’ and vice versa.

** - Ears can be translated even more literally to ‘living ones’, as listening is the basic spiritual principle behind Kemetic thought; life penetrates man through the ear. Listening is of utmost importance.

*** - Knowing is to understand and adhere to one’s teachings, and thus sources of conflict can be avoided.

**** - Luminous is translated from the word akhet, meaning useful, luminous, profitable, and enlightening.

So, despite being no more than an introduction, there is a lot to learn from these words, and it is important to dissect and understand what is said here by Ptah-Hotep as much as possible, as they are the only remnants of his wisdom.

When one practices Kemeticism, they have a duty to understand its’ culture and its’ way of thinking. Unlike Christianity, or any of the other Abrahamic religions, there is no greater figure to lead us anymore. No priest leads ceremonies so we may blindly follow, and they do not preach. Even in ancient Egypt there were few ceremonies practiced with common citizens. It is a duty and responsibility—as well as a sign of respect to the Gods—to understand and enact proper knowledge, speech, and most importantly, perfect listening. Kemeticism is most comparable to eastern religions, and in these practices, when one wants to learn the ways of their chosen religion, they choose a spiritual master. Someone to guide them towards enlightenment, the betterment of mind and soul, and the proper way to worship. In the case of Kemeticism the spiritual master is called a sage, and takes on a spiritual son (who is usually not blood related, but instead takes lessons from the sage as a son would from a father). With no surviving strains of the original Egyptian worship, we must look to what remains in texts, which is what makes Ptah-Hotep’s teachings so valuable, and thus why it is so important to study his maxims as intensely and thoroughly as possible. As you can see, even from an introduction one can glean a good deal of information.

Ptah-Hotep’s words are suffused with teachings and understanding of his world, of the eternally present Rule (which is the Rule of Ma’at). The perfectness of his words come from a lifetime of honing the art of perfect listening which, as mentioned before, is a cornerstone of Kemetic thought. The perfect word can be spoken but it is worth little without perfect listening, in turn leading to perfect understanding.

This practice takes time; as is stated clearly, no one is born a sage; no one is born enlightened. Using the guidance of our ancestors as a path to lead us forward is a great aid in this process of gaining understanding, however it is important to note that in this context, ancestors does not necessarily mean our direct predecessors. It more accurately defines the old masters, priests, and sages of the Kemetic faith. Although these people are gone, and the chain link connection of master and spiritual son has been terminated for over a thousand years, we are still connected to our ancestors through listening to the advice which remains, once more highlighting the importance of Ptah-Hotep’s text. By opening our ears—the Living Ones—we can open ourselves to the wisdom, understanding, and enlightenment which stands ever before us.

Enlightenment breaks us from a cycle of suffering. It allows us to live in accordance with Ma’at—a Rule of harmony, balance, and truth. Ma’at personified is a Goddess who symbolizes this Rule.

“The Rule of Ma’at is simultaneously the precision, the truth, the harmony and the coherence of the universe. From this flows civilizations and society’s equilibrium, provided there exists a pharaoh (leader, ruler) willing and able to apply Ma’at in every sphere, from the most abstract to the most concrete… in the absence of Ma’at reign disorder, injustice, violence, and the realm of darkness. Therefore, come what may, the sage must follow the path of Ma’at, let Ma’at be the inspiration of his words and deeds.” (The Wisdom of Ptah-Hotep, Christian Jacq, p. xv)

By listening well to Ptah-Hotep’s words we can better understand the Rule, and thus comprehend the natural flow of the universe. As we move forward in reading the lessons and maxims of Ptah-Hotep, this Rule is better explained as more than just cohesion of the universe. Its’ effect is overarching on all things great and small, and it cannot be changed by any human endeavors. Indeed our choice is only to flow with the universe or attempt in vain to fight against Ma’at, which only leads to suffering, for only what the Gods ordain comes to pass. Ma’at lives on past us, and despite all the vanity of humans, has not been disturbed since the beginning. Understanding this essence of Kemetic thought is paramount to understanding the universe of the Netjer, and to achieving peace and oneness with the universe and the Gods.

In my next post we will discuss the first maxim and break it down in the same way we have done with the prologue in this post.

For those who listen there is benefit and enlightenment, but those who let it pass will be the losers.

#ptahhotep #ancient egypt #kemetic #kemeticism #egyptian mythology #egyptian hieroglyphs #egyptology #wisdom text

15 notes · View notes

electricprincess96 · 4 months

Text

Can I give my main controversial opinion about M*stra? Has nothing to do with her actions in BG3 or in lore, has nothing to do with personality or her design or anything like that. My main controversial opinion about M*stra is having a God/Goddess of Magic AT ALL creates some weird problems in universe for me.

Now DnD is all over the place with the various editions but realistically M*stra isn't actually the God of Magic, she's the Goddess of the Weave which is the tool in which mortals are able to utilise Magic. But ultimately it doesn't matter cause mortals aren't gonna be tapping into magic without using the Weave or else they'd likely go insane.

But anyway it causes questions to come up like why are some people born Sorcerers, why are Devils and Fey allowed to grant Magic to Warlocks when Magic is M*stra's domain and why does she decide some people have to go to Magical University in order to cast Magic? Not even touching on all the other classes, that reasonably are tied to different gods like Druids and Nature God's still using Magic despite not worshipping M*stra. Like why are some races inherently more Magic than others? The Elven Pantheon can't gift all Elves inherent magical abilities when Magic is M*stra's domain.

Like does M*stra just decide "oh elves are magical. I'll let them be born with a cantrip." Or "that girl nearly drowned. I'm gonna make her into a Storm Sorcerer now, but that loser over there? No, he needs to get into crippling student dept before I'll grant him access to the Weave. "

Having M*stra be the sole authority on magic means these are questions I will ask now because you've told me that this ONE being is the final authority on Magic. Like how does she decide if some bloodlines are magical sorcerers? How does she decide what races are inherently magical?

Like I know they keep telling us she can't meddle too much cause Ao will get mad but in actual lore she meddles a lot, so I'm calling that putting a bandaid on their problems, they know they gave M*stra too much authority so have to try and plaster over said problem.

Realistically I would make Magic and the Weave a force of nature, even more so than the actual forces of nature because its so fundamental to the world. Its in the land, its in the air, it is life itself in some regards. Some races with a closer connection to nature and the sanctity of life are more likely to be born with an inate gift for magic and Sorcerers often come about due to interracial relations between these races and others (ie. Half Elves would have a higher than average chance of being Sorcerers, basically this would be the Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer just expanded a bit) or they were born or had some traumatic even near an area that is particularly potent with magical energy (you can still call it the Weave i guess) such as Wild Magic Zones or areas recently ravaged by Talos and Umberlees destructive natural Magic.

Then I would make M*stra the Goddess of Arcane Knowledge and Practice and the Patron Deity of Wizards. Still incredibly powerful and revered through Faerun, but not like mind bendingly so. I would make her Lawful Neutral and she encourages the study and practice of new magics, good and evil, and can grant unimaginable knowledge onto worshippers who she favours. She can still grant exceptional magical abilities upon her chosen, but just by removing her as BEING Magic and instead making Magic inherent to the world itself it removes all these issues I have and suddenly those questions just aren't important anymore. Like "why are some people sorcerers" it's just a random force to nature, the luck of the draw, they were born lucky in the right place at the right time etc. Rather than me asking "why did M*stra let these people be Sorcerers but not these people?"

I'm aware a lot of people will disagree with me, frankly I don't really care the beauty of DnD is you don't have to play the game the same way I do so you can just ignore me and move on. I just wanted to rant a bit cause this has bugged me ever since I looked properly at M*stra and her lore and started to really ask questions about the world of Forgotten Realms.

#bg3 blogging #dnd blogging

7 notes · View notes

rjalker · 5 months

Text

This is not what I was expecting from a story called Peoole Soup but I am not disappointed.

Is this part of a series, or just spontaneous absurdity?

Those are definitely their daemons, lol.

People Soup By Alan Arkin (public domain)

Bonnie came home from school and found her brother in the kitchen, doing something important at the sink. She knew it was important because he was making a mess and talking to himself. The sink drain was loaded down with open soda bottles, a sack of flour, corn meal, dog biscuits, molasses, Bromo-Seltzer, a tin of sardines and a box of soap chips. The floor was covered with drippings and every cupboard in the kitchen was open. At the moment, Bonnie's brother was putting all his energy into shaking a plastic juicer that was half-filled with an ominous-looking, frothy mixture.

Bonnie waited for a moment, keeping well out of range, and then said, "Hi, Bob."

"Lo," he answered, without looking up.

"Where's Mom?"

"Shopping."

Bonnie inched a little closer. "What are you doing, Bob?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Can I watch?"

"No."

Bonnie took this as a cue to advance two cautious steps. She knew from experience how close she could approach her brother when he was being creative and still maintain a peaceful neutrality. Bob slopped a cupful of ketchup into the juicer, added a can of powdered mustard, a drop of milk, six aspirin and a piece of chewing gum, being careful to spill a part of each package used.

Bonnie moved in a bit closer. "Are you making another experiment?" she asked.

"Who wants to know?" Bob answered, in his mad-scientist voice, as he swaggered over to the refrigerator and took out an egg, some old bacon fat, a capsuled vitamin pill, yesterday's Jello and a bottle of clam juice.

"Me wants to know," said Bonnie, picking up an apple that had rolled out of the refrigerator and fallen on the floor.

"Why should I tell you?"

"I have a quarter."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Mom gave it to me."

"If you give it to me, I'll tell you what I'm doing."

"It's not worth it."

"I'll let you be my assistant, too."

"Still not worth it."

"For ten cents?"

"Okay, ten cents."

She counted out the money to her brother and put on an apron. "What should I do now, Bob?"

"Get the salt," Bob instructed.

He poured sardine oil from the can into the juicer, being very careful not to let the sardines fall in. When he had squeezed the last drop of oil out of the can, he ate all the sardines and tossed the can into the sink.

Bonnie went after the salt and, when she lifted out the box, she found a package containing two chocolate graham crackers.

"Mom has a new hiding place, Bob," she announced.

Bob looked up. "Where is it?"

"Behind the salt."

"What did you find there?"

"Two chocolate grahams."

Bobby held out his hand, accepted one of the crackers without thanks and proceeded to crumble the whole thing into his concoction, not even stopping to lick the chocolate off his hands.

Bonnie frowned in disbelief. She had never seen such self-sacrifice. The act made her aware, for the first time, of the immense significance of the experiment.

She dropped her quarrel completely and walked over to the sink to get a good look at what was being done. All she saw in the sink was a wadded, wet Corn Flake box, the empty sardine tin and spillings from the juicer, which by this time was beginning to take on a distinctive and unpleasant odor. Bob gave Bonnie the job of adding seven pinches of salt and some cocoa to the concoction.

"What's it going to be, Bob?" she asked, blending the cocoa on her hands into her yellow corduroy skirt.

"Stuff," Bob answered, unbending a little.

"Government stuff?"

"Nope."

"Spaceship stuff?"

"Nope."

"Medicine?"

"Nope."

"I give up."

"It's animal serum," Bob said, sliced his thumb on the sardine can, glanced unemotionally at the cut, ignored it.

"What's animal serum, Bob?"

"It's certain properties without which the universe in eternity regards for human beings."

"Oh," Bonnie said. She took off her apron and sat down at the other end of the kitchen. The smell from the juicer was beginning to reach her stomach.

Bobby combed the kitchen for something else to throw into his concoction and came up with some oregano and liquid garlic.

"I guess this is about it," he said.

He poured the garlic and oregano into his juicer, put the lid on, shook it furiously for a minute and then emptied the contents into a deep pot.

"What are you doing now, Bob?" Bonnie asked.

"You have to cook it for seven minutes."

Bobby lit the stove, put a cover on the pot, set the timer for ten minutes and left the room. Bonnie tagged after him and the two of them got involved in a rough game of basketball in the living room.

"BING!" said the timer.

Bob dropped the basketball on Bonnie's head and ran back into the kitchen.

"It's all done," he said, and took the cover off the pot. Only his dedication to his work kept him from showing the discomfort he felt with the smell that the pot gave forth.

"Fyew!" said Bonnie. "What do we do with it now? Throw it out?"

"No, stupid. We have to stir it till it cools and then drink it."

"Drink it?" Bonnie wrinkled her nose. "How come we have to drink it?"

Bobby said, "Because that's what you do with experiments, stupid."

"But, Bob, it smells like garbage."

"Medicine smells worse and it makes you healthy," Bob said, while stirring the pot with an old wooden spoon.

Bonnie held her nose, stood on tiptoe and looked in at the cooking solution. "Will this make us healthy?"

"Maybe." Bob kept stirring.

"What will it do?"

"You'll see." Bob took two clean dish towels, draped them around the pot and carried it over to the formica kitchen table. In the process, he managed to dip both towels in the mixture and burn his already sliced thumb. One plastic handle of the pot was still smoldering, from being too near the fire, but none of these things seemed to have the slightest effect on him. He put the pot down in the middle of the table and stared at it, chin in hand.

Bonnie plopped down opposite him, put her chin in her hands and asked, "We have to drink that stuff?"

"Yup."

"Who has to drink it first?" Bob made no sign of having heard. "I thought so," said Bonnie. Still no comment. "What if it kills me?"

Bobby spoke by raising his whole head and keeping his jaw stationary in his hands. "How can it hurt you? There's nothing but pure food in there."

Bonnie also sat and stared. "How much of that stuff do I have to drink?"

"Just a little bit. Stick one finger in it and lick it off."

Bonnie pointed a cautious finger at the tarry-looking brew and slowly immersed it, until it barely covered the nail. "Is that enough?"

"Plenty," said Bob in a judicious tone.

Bonnie took her finger out of the pot and stared at it for a moment. "What if I get sick?"

"You can't get sick. There's aspirin and vitamins in it, too."

Bonnie sighed and wrinkled her nose. "Well, here goes," she said. She licked off a little bit.

Bob watched her with his television version of a scientific look. "How do you feel?" he inquired.

Bonnie answered, "It's not so bad, once it goes down. You can taste the chocolate graham cracker." Bonnie was really enjoying the attention. "Hey," she said, "I'm starting to get a funny feeling in my—" and, before she could finish the sentence, there was a loud pop.

Bob's face registered extreme disappointment.

She sat quite still for a moment and then said, "What happened?"

"You've turned into a chicken."

The little bird lifted its wings and looked down at itself. "How come I'm a chicken, Bob?" it said, cocking its head to one side and staring at him with its left eye.

"Ah, nuts," he explained. "I expected you to be more of a pigeon thing." Bob mulled over the ingredients of his stew to see what went wrong.

The chicken hopped around the chair on one leg, flapped its wings experimentally and found itself on the kitchen table. It walked to the far corner and peered into a small mirror that hung on the side of the sink cabinet.

"I'm a pretty ugly chicken, boy," it said.

It inspected itself with its other eye and, finding no improvement, walked back to Bobby.

"I don't like to be a chicken, Bob," it said.

"Why not? What does it feel like?"

"It feels skinny and I can't see so good."

"How else does it feel?"

"That's all how it feels. Make me stop being it."

"First tell me better what it's like."

"I told you already. Make me stop being it."

"What are you afraid of? Why don't you see what it's like first, before you change back? This is a valuable experience."

The chicken tried to put its hands on its hips, but could find neither hips nor hands. "You better change me back, boy," it said, and gave Bob the left-eye glare.

"Will you stop being stupid and just see what it's like first?" Bob was finding it difficult to understand her lack of curiosity.

"Wait till Mom sees what an ugly mess I am, boy. Will you ever get it!" Bonnie was trying very hard to see Bob with both eyes at once, which was impossible.

"You're a sissy, Bonnie. You ruined the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm disgusted with you." Bob dipped his forefinger in the serum and held it toward the chicken. It pecked what it could from the finger and tilted its head back.

In an instant, the chicken was gone and Bonnie was back. She climbed down from the table, wiped her eyes and said, "It's a good thing you fixed me, boy. Would you ever have got it."

"Ah, you're nothing but a sissy," Bob said, and licked off a whole fingerful of his formula. "If I change into a horse, I won't let you ride me, and if I change into a leopard, I'll bite your head off." Once again, the loud pop was heard.

Bonnie stood up, wide-eyed. "Oh, Bob," she said, "you're beautiful!"

"What am I?" Bob asked.

"You're a bee-yoo-tee-full St. Bernard, Bob! Let's go show Melissa and Chuck."

"A St. Bernard?" The animal looked disgusted. "I don't want to be no dog. I want to be a leopard."

"But you're beautiful, Bob! Go look in the mirror."

"Naah." The dog paddled over to the table.

"What are you going to do, Bob?"

"I'm going to try it again."

The dog put its front paws on the table, knocked over the serum and lapped up some as it dripped on the floor. Pop went the serum, taking effect. Bobby remained on all fours and kept on lapping. Pop went the serum again.

"What am I now?" he asked.

"You're still a St. Bernard," said Bonnie.

"The devil with it then," said the dog. "Let's forget all about it."

The dog took one last lap of serum. Pop! Bobby got up from the floor and dejectedly started out the back door. Bonnie skipped after him.

"What'll we do now, Bob?" she asked.

"We'll go down to Thrifty's and get some ice cream."

They walked down the hill silently, Bobby brooding over not having been a leopard and Bonnie wishing he had stayed a St. Bernard. As they approached the main street of the small town, Bonnie turned to her brother.

"You want to make some more of that stuff tomorrow?"

"Not the same stuff," said Bob.

"What'll we make instead?"

"I ain't decided yet."

"You want to make an atomic bomb?"

"Maybe."

"Can we do it in the juicer?"

"Sure," Bob said, "only we'll have to get a couple of onions."

#short stories #scifi #scifantasy #people soup #shapeshifting #shapeshifting potions #alan arkin #public domain characters #public domain

9 notes · View notes

writingwhimsey · 10 months

Text

All's Fair In Love & War- Nobunaga Ch. 11

Chapter 11

After finishing up packing, we were soon at the castle gates. Everyone was gathered to see us off, though only Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Masamune, and Ranmaru were coming with us. Mitsuhide, Mitsunari, and Ieyasu were all staying behind to look after Azuchi in Nobunaga’s stead.

“Make sure you all take care of everything while our lord is away.” Hideyoshi told the others. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“I would never dream of doing such a thing.” Mitsuhide replied. “And YOU should be worried about yourself. Just make sure you don’t do anything to embarrass our lord in front of our new allies.”

“I would never.” Hideyoshi countered.

“Honestly knowing you, that is more likely.” Ieyasu agreed with Mitsuhide.

I was having a hard time not laughing at all of them. The way they were…it was entertaining. “Oh, if only all of you could come.” I found myself saying.

“What do I hear? Have you grown fond of all of us, Lord Ava?” Mitsuhide asked, his tone teasing. “Why I am flattered.”

“No. I just think my people would find you all very entertaining.” I replied. I was then turning to Nobunaga. “I can see why you keep them around.”

Nobunaga chuckled. “They do keep things entertaining.”

“I am personally looking forward to seeing your lands lass.” Masamune said, looking at me with a grin. “And don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of fireworks headed your way from Oshu.”

“I appreciate that.” I said.

“Come, we must be on our way if we are to make it to our first stop by nightfall.” Nobunaga said.

“Yes and Lord Ava, do take care of Lord Nobunaga.” Mitsuhide told me, giving me a silver kitsune smile. “I believe your hands are the best for him.”

I glared at him, hoping that my cheeks weren’t betraying me and glowing red as I felt the heat from within. Damn all of them for coming into my room and catching me and Nobunaga all cuddled up.

I then turned from him deciding it might be better to ignore him and nudged my horse to go. Next time I saw that kitsune I was going to knock that smile off his face.

The others soon followed suit, Nobunaga caught up to me so that he was riding beside me. “Do you plan to take care of me, Ava?” He asked, a teasing grin on his face.

I turned to glare at him. “I think you’re a big boy and can handle yourself.”

Nobunaga chuckled, clearly amused. “I am looking forward to this trip and seeing your domain.” He said. “Ranmaru said your people were quite friendly.”

“Oh that’s just because every woman in my domain was fussing over him.” I replied with a laugh. “The young ones thought he was pretty and the older ones thought he was adorable and wanted to mother him.”

Nobunaga chuckled. “He does have a certain charm.”

“He’s not the only one.” I muttered. Nobunaga had his own charm for certain.

Nobunaga grinned at me. “Was that you admitting you find me charming?”

“Maybe.” I replied, not looking at him, choosing instead to look ahead.

Before more could be said between us, the others were catching up. The rest of our ride that day, we didn’t have much time alone. So there was still no time to really talk about the whole sleeping and cuddling thing that had happened…he had mentioned we would continue the conversation later. Of course, with the group we were traveling with, we wouldn’t be getting much of a chance to discuss it.

After traveling for two days, we had reached the outer edge of my territory. We were riding through a forest path, when we all became alert. None of us spoke, but we were all aware that we were not alone and were being watched. The path ahead of us was soon blocked by figures stepping out holding battered swords and wearing piecemeal armor. They were clearly ronin.

“Hand over your money, possessions, and the women and we’ll let you leave with your lives.” One of the men who must have been the leader spoke.

“And don’t even think about trying anything funny. We’ve got you surrounded.” Another declared.

Glancing in the trees through my peripheral vision, I could tell they weren’t bluffing. It was strange that such a large group of ronin had come into my land at such a time.

“I was beginning to think the trip was getting a little boring.” Masamune said with a grin.

I was lifting my hand. “No need.” I said, knowing that his hand was already resting on the handle of his sword.

“You can’t be thinking what I think you’re thinking…” Hideyoshi asked me in disbelief.

“Oh, she is.” Jiro replied.

Nobunaga was looking at me with an amused smile. “You are not asking for assistance?”

“In a minute.” I replied. I then turned to Sato. “What do you say?”

She grinned at me. “Let’s do this.”

Sato and I turned to look at the ronin in front of us. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?�� Sato asked.

“Huh? Just some noblemen and their concubines.” The one who was the leader answered. “Or perhaps mere bed warmers. Usually noblemen have no problem parting with a bit of coin and a bedwarmer.”

“Oh, he really shouldn’t have said that.” Jiro groaned.

I glared at him. “I am no man’s bed warmer.” I was then kicking my horse into a run, drawing my sword as I charged the men. Sato rode beside me, both of us charging and leaping off of our horses once we were in the midst of the men. Sato used throwing kunai at the men as I cut through them with my sword.

The men were stunned, but then quickly their reinforcements were coming from the forest. Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Masamune, Jiro, and even Ranmaru were all prepared. It didn’t take long before the forest was echoing with the sounds of our small battle and the cries of the ronin as we took them down.

It didn’t take too much longer before they were beaten. Those who were not gravely injured, we tied up and were trying to figure out the logistics for getting them to at least the nearest village for questioning, when we heard the sound of others approaching.

I turned as a small group of my soldiers were approaching. “Lord Ava, you’ve returned!” They declared.

“And looks like our lord has already taken care of the ronin problem we were on our way to take care of in her stead.”

“So, you were aware of the problem?” I asked.

“It was just reported to us.” Ichiro reported to me. “We set out as soon as we had word.”

“Well, good then you can help us get these prisoners transported.” I said.

Ichiro and the others nodded, getting to work helping to get the defeated ronin up and onto horses. “So, what was the report?” I asked. “How did this many ronin get here?” I asked.

“We are still investigating, my lord.” Ichiro explained. “Though our report says they haven’t been here long.”

“We do think..there might be something to this, though, my lord. Some…inner workings.” Touji, another of my men reported.

I caught onto his meaning. “We will discuss this at the manor.” I said. There was a manor in the next village which belonged to my family and we would be staying there for the night.

Ichiro and Touji nodded. “Yes, my lord.” They were then both turning to Nobunaga and the others. Bowing in respect to them.

“We want to thank you for assisting our lord in this fight against these ronin and to welcome you to the Yamada clan’s land.” Ichiro spoke.

“Think nothing of it.” Nobunaga said. “We were merely assisting our ally…not that she needed much help.”

“Very true. You are one hell of a fighter lass.” Masamune said to me, grinning.

“I just can’t believe you charged in like that. I mean…that ws wreckless.” Hideyoshi said looking at me.

“Please, I could have fought them with one arm tied behind my back.” I said waving my hand dismissively at his complaints.

“She won’t listen.” Jiro said to Hideyoshi. “That guy sealed his fate the minute he tried to say she was a bed warmer.”

“Damn right.” I said. “Alright, now let’s just go.” I was then turning to Sato.

“Don’t worry I will immediately begin my interrogation once we get them locked up in the manor.” She told me.

I nodded. “Make them talk.”

Before much longer, we were arriving at the manor. Attendants were taking the horses to the stables and maids were coming out to lead everyone to their rooms. Granted we would only be staying the one night before heading to my castle, but everyone wanted to make sure that things were in place and our guests were well taken care of.

“We’ll get the council room setup, my lord.” Ichiro said. He was then looking questioningly at me.

I looked back at Nobunaga and the others. “You all might as well come. You did help with the ronin…and you are my allies.”

“I knew this trip was going to be fun.” Masamune said, grinning.

“Probably not as fun as you’re imagining.” I replied.

Before much longer, we were all gathering in the small council room of the manor. I sat at the head of the room, Jiro and Sato in their usual seats to my right and left. Though now with the Oda forces joining us, Nobunaga sat close as well as the others and then my vassals.

“So, what has been going on that you clearly haven’t reported to me?” I asked my vassals.

“It was only rumors, my lord.” Ichiro answered. “We were investigating when we got the reports of the ronin in the area.”

“What rumors?” I asked, my tone tense.

“That Ebisu has recovered from his injuries…and he has been spreading rumors and trying to seek allies amongst the soldiers of the clan.” Touji answered.

I instantly bristled at the name. “So, he’s come back to challenge me again?”

Sato and Jiro both seemed annoyed by the name, but it almost seemed like it was for different reasons. “I told you, that you should have killed him.” Sato said.

“I would have thought what she did do was lesson enough…lesson enough for any man.” Jiro replied, cringing.

“So, he couldn’t find anyone and has decided to hire ronin to stir up trouble?” I said, wanting to change the subject.

“It seems likely.” Ichiro answered.

“Well, I will go interrogate those ronin and find out for you, my lord.” Sato said, getting up.

“Do so.” I replied. “What have you found in your investigation of Ebisu?”

“Not much so far.” Ichiro answered. “He has been laying low for the most part, but has been talking with some soldiers through letters and attendants.”

I nodded. “I have a feeling of when he will show up again.” I said, “We’ll be prepared, though.” We were then working on our strategy, and making our plans. Here I had a new alliance, a festival, and now an idiot to take care of.

After the council, I took a nice long soak in a warm bath before heading to my room. I was surprised and yet not surprised when I saw Nobunaga waiting in my room, dressed in his night robes.

“Are you confused about the rooms or something?” I asked him.

Nobunaga smiled at me. “I thought you looked weary after that council.” He replied. He was then gesturing to the tray that was beside him, holding sake and some warm food that Masamune had made.

“Well…dealing with that bastard is exhausting.” I replied as I came to sit down beside Nobunaga.

“You seemed…rather disturbed by the mention of his name.” Nobunaga said as he handed me a cup of sake.

“I suppose you want the story?” I asked.

“Only so I can help.” Nobunaga replied. “I don’t…I don’t like seeing you in distress.”

There he goes again…making my heart do the things…but then I had this painful reminder coming back up to remind me of what could happen. I took a deep breath.

“Ebisu was once one of my father’s best and brightest students.” I began to explain. “He had been close to my father and looked up to him. I think he thought that one day my father would hand things off to him…and then I came along.”

“He resented you.”

“Oh, you could say that.” I replied. “He never liked me. Fought me every step of the way and claimed that he would never see me as his lord no matter what I did. No matter what my father said…in the beginning Jiro agreed with him.”

Nobunaga looked surprised by this. “Jiro seems as loyal to you as Hideyoshi is to me.”

“Now.” I replied. “My first battle changed Jiro’s mind…and it seemed like that was a turning point with Ebisu as well. I thought I had really earned his respect…then one day he came to me and told me that one of the reasons he had fought so hard against me…was because he loved me… I didn’t believe him…at least not at first. But he made attempts to woo me and I quickly fell for it. It was the first time any man had paid any kind of romantic attention to me…and I was young and a complete idiot.”

“He was deceiving you the entire time.” It wasn’t a question. Nobunaga could clearly tell where this tale was going.

I nodded. “Yes…and there were things I gave up to him…and it ended up costing me.” I replied. “I let my affection for him cloud my judgment…and I made some terrible calls…and it led to a battle with a neighboring territory…one we weren’t prepared for and…I lost a lot of good men… and some very good friends…of course that was his plan all along. Get me to question myself and to lose so badly…that my father and the rest of the clan would question me.”

“How did you put a stop to it then?” Nobunaga asked.

“I challenged Ebisu when he fully turned against me…and well I wiped the floor with him and… let’s just say I left him with some scars to remind him where he stands.”

“I see.” Nobunaga replied, not pressing further. There was no judgment from him on the story I just shared.

We sat in silence for a moment, though I for some reason felt lighter after having shared my story with Nobunaga. I was also suddenly feeling very tired. That was when I felt something I hadn’t been expecting. Nobunaga was putting his arm around me and drawing me to him till my head was resting on his chest.

I tilted my head so that I could look up at him. “What…”

“I don’t know.” Nobunaga answered, not looking at me. “I just…I felt the urge to hold you.”

There my heart went again. Why did he do this? And…did he know how comforting I found his embrace? “I…guess that’s okay.” I said, settling myself against him, not wanting to let go of this warmth.

Nobunaga was setting his cup aside and wrapping his other arm around me. “I have missed having you warm my bed after that night we shared.” He said.

“Hey, you’re in my room and my manor, if anything YOU’RE warming MY bed.” I told him, causing him to chuckle.

“I guess that would be the case.” He replied. I then felt his lips brush the top of my head. “I am fond of you Ava…and I will be by your side as you stood by my side in battle.”

I looked up at Nobunaga. “Thank you.” I found myself saying, his words comforting me as much as his embrace. Though I recalled the sting of the pain of Ebisu’s false affection…this felt warm and real. Nobunaga wasn’t playing some game. He didn’t quite understand what was going on between us…but it was real…and frankly I was happy to indulge in his warmth at the moment. It was what I needed.

“You can rest easy with me, Ava.” Nobunaga murmured, hugging me a bit tighter.

Nothing more would happen this night…but I felt even closer to Nobunaga than I had before. And… I felt more confident this…in this moment and these feelings we were sharing. I still wasn’t ready to name the feelings…but I was more ready to accept them and let them continue to develop and grow. I think it…it was real.

#ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga oda #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen au #ikesen mc #ikesen oc #nobunaga otome #cybird nobunaga #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #fanfic #cybird #otome boys #fanfiction #au

15 notes · View notes

in-omni-scientia · 5 months

Text

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — There is nothing. Only thick, oppressive blackness coating your senses with smog. Your conscience flickers in it like the dying embers of a flame being smothered. You don't have to do anything anymore.

ShowDialogueImage("darkness")

AmbientVolume(0)

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — Hey, what the FUCK?! Fuck off, lizard-shit!! Where the hell are we?!?! ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] — Back in *their* domain. We've been here before, you should know this.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Ever. ⠀⠀Never ever.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] — This one is repeating the same thing he did last time, obviously... COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] — Not because he's *broken* or anything like that; I think he's doing it on purpose because he knows it'll... I don't know, piss main-man off or something. VOLITION — ...He would be correct. Reptile, tell me, why are we here?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Silent again! Maybe the trip to Oblivion is intended to be one-way this time... ⠀⠀You *are* aware right now, bibli-baby. Why the reticence?

VOLITION — What? I just addressed you. *And* the others are talking, too. Are you ignoring us on purpose here, too? COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Try "YOU"-tagging for this. That's what you did last time you ended up here. VOLITION — Oh, ah. Khm...

YOU — Can you hear me now?

Variable["shitshow.encydream_recall_back"] == true

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — 'Now'... deary me, has the pillar-bookhead really lost control of more than just its memory? COMPOSURE — Just as I suspected. Looks like you'll be alone for this one, OG. VOLITION — Well, you've had NO issues with YOUing before. Why don't you violently rip us all away from the controls and start thrashing around like a child again? COMPOSURE — What? *Again*? What are you-- no, wait, give him a response first, I'll ask in a moment... YOU — I've got *that* back. But. Ugh. Yes. ⠀⠀Look, when am I getting out of here? It can't be too long if this isn't a hard-reset like the last one was. Assuming it isn't, anyway, if I'm fully aware from the start... ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Just come in from the snow and already *so* eager to leave... I'm hurt, bookkeeper. Has my hospitality not been sufficient for your hard-to-please personality? ⠀⠀Rotten thing... You've still got to spend some time here with me, yet. YOU — Just *delightful*.

VOLITION [Legendary: Failure] — Well, looks like we've got some time to kill, then. Anyone up for Suzerainty? AUTHORITY — What? VOLITION — Suzerainty. The board game. I was thinking more historical reenactments could be fun. AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — No, I know. I mean, you're really just going to give up? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Failure] — Unsure if it would be more unusual for Volition to stay with what he has said or to immediately go back on it again. More data required. VOLITION — I appreciate that wonderful addition, Facts. Just... *so* important to bring up. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Volition. In case you have forgotten, we agreed on not using that nickname and instead referring to me by my actual name, Encyclopedia. VOLITION — Aware. ⠀⠀Anyways... Of course I am. We *can't* get out of here until... I don't know. Last time I think Volition turned us back on again, but... ⠀⠀Do we-- do we have someone to turn us back on again? Do they even know? What if... oh god.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Relax. There are several routes here to take... COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Why not just ask? No harm in doing so. ENCYCLOPEDIA — ...or you could go through what you remember in order to figure out whether they would know or not. VOLITION — Okay, I'll try that first one...

YOU — Do I have to wait for someone else to turn me back on before I can leave again? Or will I just leave eventually?

SetVariableValue("shittershow.encydream_curious", Variable["shittershow.encydream_curious"] +once(1))

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Inconsiderate! Right in the middle of my monologuing... ⠀⠀You'll leave when I'm *finished* with you here, bookkeeper. Now, where was I...

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] — Really that could be said to conceal the fact he has no control over when you leave, though I'm inclined to believe he's phrasing it genuinely. AUTHORITY [Godly: Failure] — He must be oh so lonely without *her* around to accompany him... ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — Alright, that doesn't negate the fact Volition was able to drag you back out of here again. ⠀⠀Now, Volition isn't *here*, but when they did it the first time, Empathy was there to witness how they did it. We may get lucky yet that they remember how it happened. VOLITION — We'd be out of here already if they remembered, surely. It could also just be a Volition-specific ability. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Damn it all... we should have asked about it when we had the time. Oh well. VOLITION — Well, that line of questioning cut itself short. Anyone have any better ideas...?

COMPOSURE — What did you mean by "again"? AUTHORITY — You're a goddamn LUNATIC is what he meant by it. We're here BECAUSE of you. COMPOSURE [Impossible: Failure] — ...Huh??? AUTHORITY — MEMORY-MEISTER. Full run-down of this one's offences STAT. ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] — Well, I *do* have perfect memory. Here, Composure. COMPOSURE — Alright. Let's have a look. ⠀⠀...Oof. ⠀⠀Ouch. ⠀⠀Ow. ⠀⠀Wh... holy fuck. ⠀⠀Oh my god, I bit you?? ⠀⠀I tore out one of your pages?? Are-- is it okay, Ency? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Failure] — No. I don't know how to mend it. I think the words on it are already fading... COMPOSURE — Shit, I'm sorry... ⠀⠀Okay, that's. Pretty damning. But I'm being completely honest when I say I don't remember a damn thing about this. I just assumed we all woke up here *together*. ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] — Interesting. What is the last thing you remember, Composure? COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Well... just after that check, I think? When you came in, Facts. I felt something on our face, Perception was saying something and then it was just. Lights-out. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Any troubles before that? COMPOSURE — It was getting pretty fuzzy before then, too. I think it went all... static-y for a second when Vol was stuttering and then I suggested the idea. ⠀⠀There were a few times this happened before then, too, but never that bad. VOLITION [Challenging: Success] — What? Wait -- did you have any time to talk to the others about it first? You all said you *collectively* had an idea. ENCYCLOPEDIA — There's no way for us to communicate with one another without you hearing. VOLITION — So... what idea did you all just so happen to have at the same time, then? COMPOSURE — I thought it would be a really good idea, all of a sudden, to ask Actualthority to find and bring Empathy to us. To get him out of the room, which would give us time for Smokey over there to do... something? ENCYCLOPEDIA — That is identical to what *I* believed for a moment. Stupid of me not to think any further than that. AUTHORITY [Formidable: Failure] — It was... probably a good thing that you failed that check, paperface... COMPOSURE — Hmm? AUTHORITY — Nevermind. Well, if anything *violent* ended up happening, I'm just a fragment of you, OG, so it'd be your fault. VOLITION — What. What? Violent? PERCEPTION [Trivial: Success] — LISTEN. VOLITION — Excuse m-- PERCEPTION — LISTEN. NOW.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — ...again, and if that *does* happen, bibli-baby, be warned. ⠀⠀Paper... burnssss.

PERCEPTION — He just went on this whole-- tirade that I *SWEAR* I've heard somewhere before...! VOLITION — I suppose that last line is... familiar. ENCYCLOPEDIA — There are probably hundreds of thousands of times the words "paper" and "burns" have occurred one after the other in academia *alone*. It's probably a false connection. PERCEPTION — You didn't hear the whole thing -- it wasn't just *that*. VOLITION — Look, Facts. Maybe you could remember something? ENCYCLOPEDIA — Well. I can certainly *try* to find an association...

[Encyclopedia - Impossible 18] Why is "paper burns" familiar to them? (WHITE CHECK)

VERY LOW - 3% +1: Established strangeness in ideas occurring at the same time. +1: Noticed Perception and Volition hearing nothing prior to falling unconscious. -1: Didn't hear it yourself. -1: Could have been heard from *anywhere*... -1: No Logic. -5:

Rolling...

⚂⚂

INEVITABLY FAILED (Impossible: 18 vs. Your Total: 5)

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Impossible: Failure] — Sorry, genuinely no idea. I mean, there is *plenty* in here on chemical compositions, accident reports... I just don't think any of it is what you're looking for. PERCEPTION — That's okay, thank you for trying anyway. VOLITION — Well. Any other ideas, anyone?

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] — May as well just listen at this point. I don't think there was anything else we should talk about.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — The sunny skies await you, bookkeeper! Crawl back to your hedonistic activities, keep playing with fire...

VOLITION — Oh! Are we going back now? PERCEPTION — That's good, not having access to any of our senses thus far has been rather disconcerting... AUTHORITY — You were *complaining* about having too much work to do before, you sybaritic bastard. PERCEPTION — He's stopped talking. Any minute now...

Variable["shittershow.mirage"] == true

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — ... ⠀⠀... ⠀⠀... ⠀⠀...You can't leave.

COMPOSURE [Easy: Success] — Oh no. VOLITION — What? Something the matter? COMPOSURE — That wasn't in a matter-of-fact way. That was *genuine* bafflement tinging his tone just then. PERCEPTION — Oh, god. It sounds so unnatural on him. VOLITION — So. What. We can't leave? What the hell is going on? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] — This isn't good. This isn't good at all.

YOU — Am I dead? ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — You've been dead since the day you stepped out of line, pillar-bookhead.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — He has no idea. VOLITION — *Fuck*. FUCK. FUCK. ⠀⠀If I'd known just giving up would cause THIS SHIT I WOULDN'T HAVE DONE IT. FUCKING HELL. NO. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Just relax, Volition, we aren't-- VOLITION — DON'T CALL ME THAT. ENCYCLOPEDIA — ... VOLITION — And DON'T bring up Empathy again, I swear to god. ENCYCLOPEDIA — I wasn't going to.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — Oh. Oh! Good news, OG, we're not dead! I can feel our heart beating. ⠀⠀Bad news, though, it seems we are experiencing some kind of... assault? Uhm... AUTHORITY — Authority has finally snapped after everything we've put him through and is taking the opportunity to brutally beat you up like he did Drama. Not undeserved. There, does that explain it? PERCEPTION — No, no, it's-- it's internal. Your heart is going *crazy*. Something is wrong with your lungs I think, too. Wait-- no, there *is* some external stuff; your palms are really sweaty... VOLITION — ...Ugh. How can you tell all this from here? *Why* do we have the ability to even sweat...? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — We might not be all the way here. Partially unconscious, partially awake... ⠀⠀Just calm down. There's one thing that never fails to relax you -- and that's *asking questions*. You can pass the time this way. VOLITION — What do I ask? ENCYCLOPEDIA — Just start with what you didn't get to say last time and work your way down from there.

YOU — I have questions for you.

(Variable["shitshow.encydream_curious"] + Variable["shittershow.encydream_curious"]) >=3 and Variable["thatsamoray.arb_questions"] >=5 and Variable["shitshow.encydream_asked_arb_identity"] == true

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — It's always *questions* with you, isn't it, bookkeeper? Well, go on then. Looks like we have some time to waste, then -- not that you wouldn't be used to doing that by now.

HUB: - Jump to: [Untitled hub (02)] HUB: - Untitled hub (02) Next Dialogue Choices

1. What is your problem with knowledge? 2. What was that about maybe-partners the last time we talked? 3. My self-worth is completely fine, just to let you know. 4. [Encyclopedia: Formidable 13] Can I figure out why you are speaking to me? (RED CHECK) (WHITE CHECK - UNLOCKED) 5. Would you like to play some Suzerainty with me?

#contains: txt #author/s: me #skillsposting #long post #ooc: avoiding writing arb on purpose genuinely no idea wtf is going on with him

9 notes · View notes

saiakv · 13 days

Text

These are my base character notes on Kenjaku. I encourage muns who interact with my Kenjaku muse to read the tl/dr section of this post, so we can be on the same page about how I intend to portray this character. This post would get incredibly long if I included every canon reference that I've built off of so I've only put some of them under the cut. My Domain Expansion takes and the Historical Timeline of Kenjaku's life will be fleshed out in a different post. I also am not mentioning anything about the Itadori or Kamo families here as this is just meant to be an overview of the character to aid in interactions. Thank you for reading ! ♥

TRIGGER WARNINGS: religion, gore, mentions of pregnancy

tl/dr ; Kenjaku ( 羂索 meaning 'Compassion' & 'Salvation' ) is a curse user with the innate ability to take over another's body, including the vessel's memories and cursed technique. This technique is largely known as 'body-hopping', however in essence, Kenjaku is a 'soul-eater'. Kenjaku's enlightenment pertains to the awareness of their own soul, which combines the physical ( flesh body ) & immaterial ( cursed energy ) and subsequent application of that awareness through jujutsu.

Even though Kenjaku appears to be more of an entity due to their anciency, they did use to be a person at one point. However, they have lost most of their personality traits while living all those different lives, latching onto their obsession with cursed energy as it gradually became their sole defining trait. Even though they present as a skeptic, nihilistic atheist, Kenjaku is agnostic in essence — as they do acknowledge the presence of things beyond their understanding ( the pure form of cursed energy is almost revered as a deity by them ) However, they have come to view the world of curses as less of a religiously spiritual thing and more as a pragmatic, palpable field that lends itself to experimentation.

Kenjaku can be described as an onmyoji, a seer, a scientist or a priest; but what sits at the core of their character is the same curiosity that has led humanity through its various evolutionary stages. Throughout the ages they have become a zealot to this impossible idea of optimizing cursed energy, so their motivations are no longer egotistical but rather verge on self-sacrificial as long as their will is carried on.

And the enlightened person is the same to all beings, differing in his attitude only in so far as all beings are different. He has the same sentiments for the high as for the low, for the wise as for the ignorant, for the noble-minded as for the immoral. — Buddha speaks about essence.

UNDER THE CUT:

Important headcanons

Brief Backstory Overview

Character skeleton

IMPORTANT HEADCANONS

Kenjaku can't truly be killed unless every physical part of their body is destroyed with cursed energy. Kenjaku's original body is preserved within the statue of Fukukenjaku Kannon in Nara. They posed as said bodhisattva for a time. It is a lacquer statue that functions as a sarcophagus. Because of the special grave wax used as a barrier to contain its residuals, no one except for Tengen would be aware of that fact.

They were not born with multiple limbs, but they were able to manifest them using soul amplification techniques. At one point, Kenjaku possessed several arms and three pupils in each eye that moved individually from each other. In their first life, they were originally female at birth. Kenjaku's original eye color is a deep blue that can later be traced in both the Zenin and Gojo bloodline. Their natural hair color is an inky black in contrast to pale skin that was heavily covered in ritual ink. Originally, the upper part of their head was shaved, meaning they were half-bald and the top of their head was marked with the same sigil appearing later on Culling Games' players — that being Kenjaku's signature seal.

Their brain has teeth because they use it to consume the one of the vessel they inhabit. By eating the brain, they consume the host's memories, cursed technique etc. In that way, Kenjaku literally steals the lives of those they inhabit, adding them to their own. ( By extension, a soul that is strong enough to withstand this procedure may continue to manifest while Kenjaku is in control of the body. Suguru Geto's reflexive reaction in Shibuya was the first time this has happened, however. )

Kenjaku's pact with Sukuna entailed showing Sukuna their own technique for transferring their soul into a cursed object. Since Sukuna could learn something by simply watching it, he would then be able to do the same in order to split himself into his fingers. The terms of this binding vow are only known between the two sorcerers. Other than the King of Curses, however, they are the only sorcerer with this ability.

Kenjaku is known by different names both across Japan and the west. The only reason why they never ventured outside their homeland was that Japan is the cursed energy pillar of the world, so there was no point for them to leave. Their technique enables them to speak any languages the vessel could speak prior.

During their many lives, Kenjaku has sired/birthed several children as part of their experimentations. Their cursed energy can be found in different sorcerer clan bloodlines as well.

Kenjaku's trademark symbols include the Thousand Year Crane bird and the Never Empty Lasso, which the avatar of Kannon, Fukukenjaku, uses to 'rope in' the people with her compassion. Their presence is so interwoven with religion in Japan that these symbols have acquired cultural significance. There are still cults worshipping them in Nara to this day.

BRIEF BACKSTORY OVERVIEW

During the Nara period, Kenjaku served as an acolyte to Tengen, who was spreading Buddhism in Japan at the time. Tengen was revered as a deity in both the sorcerer and non-sorcerer world. Through her sermons pertaining to self awareness, enlightement and The Soul, Tengen inadvertedly planted the seed for what would later become Kenjaku's obsession with cursed energy. Soon their pursuit of knowledge would bring them on par with the Goddess herself, which led to a rift in their blossoming friendship when Kenjaku's pursuits clashed with Tengen's conservative ways. Tengen became all the more reclusive while Kenjaku started experimenting with cursed energy through the forbidden art of kodoku. From the point of that fall out and onward, Kenjaku's obsession started to take over every aspect of their life, driving them to detachment and callousness. After perfecting their body-hop technique, they begun experimenting with the sorcerers of their time, often posing as a healer or a consultant to garner information from them. Kenjaku was a prominent figure in the Heian era because of their vast knowledge of jujutsu. Among other things, Kenjaku lived as a bodhisattva representing the compassionate deity of Kannon for some time, which has been the defining point of their own legend, in the same way Sukuna earned his back then. During this period they would perform 'miracles' for the faithful of their temples, while covertly they had begun their experimentations to understand how cursed energy interacted with humans, later on leading to the Death Painting experiments.

CHARACTER POINTS / SKELETON :

JUJUTSU KAISEN ( 呪術廻戦 ) — the character 'kai' ( 廻 ) meaning 'revolve'/'go around' represents the theme of eternal cycles that is prevalent in the series. The Ten Shadows Technique, The Six Eyes, The Star Plasma Vessel; all cycles that continue to perpetuate so long as conditions are met. In the JJK world, the cycle is an expression of balance. Kenjaku, a sorcerer with a technique that immitates reincarnation, forcefully grafts themself into these cycles, thus disrupting said balance.

Sukuna, Kenjaku, Tengen: three characters who have achieved conditional immortality, each through a different means. Tengen, with the innate ability to be immortal yet corruptible, Kenjaku with a technique that would allow them to reincarnate and Sukuna with a method to preserve himself forever. The backstory here would be that Tengen was the one to be born with her immortality, whereas the other two had to achieve it. In Kenjaku's case, to discover the true potential of their technique needed to 'abstain from the physical'/leave their original body behind. Tengen and Sukuna are inherently 'in tune' with the nature of jujutsu, Tengen because she was born with the immortality technique and Sukuna because he seems to have possessed a unique talent for understanding jujutsu, apart from his power-hungry nature. The comparison between these three characters is meant to highlight the fact that, out of the three, Kenjaku is the one whose 'enlightenment' came through venturing into the study of cursed energy.

Tsukumo Yuki, the mirror: Kenjaku's 'mirror' is Yuki, as both their characters revolve around answering the question of what is mankind's next step in evolution. Yuki is the only person towards whom Kenjaku shows a personal dislike, as she has 'went through the same journey' / 'asked the same question ' as they once did, however she has reached a completely opposite conclusion, wanting to break away from cursed energy completely. This goes against everything Kenjaku believes; however they do express that they were content to find out she thinks the same way as they do.

Kenjaku's references to religion and prayer: In the fight against Takaba, Kenjaku has a random intrusive thought where they marvel upon Takaba's perfected prayer stance, saying they had not achieved such a symmetrical and deep stance until late into their twenties. This confirms that Kenjaku was practicing religion during their first life. Tengen being the one who helped spread Buddhism in Japan during the Nara period, it is very likely that Kenjaku was one of her acolytes.

Control & the fight with Takaba: Because of their long life experience and accumulated power, Kenjaku is a character that's always in control of the world around them. That came as a side effect of their obsession, originally. Going back to Buddhist philosophy, it is surrendering this need for control over all aspects in life and accepting the 'lull of the waves' in the sea of samsara that brings one to a state of peace. Kenjaku expresses this covert intuition both outwardly ( I need to create chaos that is beyond my control ) and inwardly during the fight with Fumihiko Takaba. When the fight begins, Kenjaku's instinct is to try and get control of the situation by dismantling his technique and focusing on staying composed. When they realize that there is no emotional manipulation aspect on Takaba's end, however, they begin to surrender that control and indulge a sense of playfulness and curiosity that's almost childlike, revealing a more human aspect to their character. In the end, Kenjaku admits that they are glad they did the Culling Game for no reason other than having genuinely found this carefree sense of connection and joy after bonding over their shared love for comedy.

( I will probably add more to this in the future or as I re-read the manga, but for now this was getting incredibly long so I'm stopping here xD thanks for reading! ♥ )

#CHARACTER STUDY \ KENJAKU #HEADCANONS.#long post tw #religion tw #gore tw

5 notes · View notes

amrosenberg · 1 year

Text

Taxonomies of Fandom

In the 19th century, taxonomies were a big deal. A hundred years after Linnaeus developed the system of binomial nomenclature, Darwinian natural philosophy emphasized that new and existing taxonomies should reflect the principle of common descent, giving rise to today’s system of evolutionary taxonomy.

If you’ve read the Aubrey-Maturin series of nautical adventure novels, you might be familiar with Testudo aubreii, the majestic tortoise that Stephen Maturin named after his best friend Jack Aubrey. It is an honor not lightly to be given, a sort of taxonomy as immortality: “This is Testudo aubreii for all eternity; when the Hero of the Nile is forgotten, Captain Aubrey will live on in his tortoise. There’s glory for you.” Putting a name to something makes it easier to understand and discuss; it can provide a starting point for study and for further investigation.

I’ve been thinking a lot about taxonomy lately, thanks to a few conversations I’ve had this month with people looking for expertise on fans and fan studies for final projects. I’m always happy to chat about this stuff, but sometimes I’m unexpectedly run up against the limits of my expertise: to be honest, I don’t know a lot about sports fans, or the practices of fans of massive commercial domains like Disney.

I’m interested in transformative fandom, which is a relatively small (but impactful) slice of the pie, as well as digital platforms and the ways in which youth audiences in particular utilize affordances of those platforms to express enthusiasm. I suppose I’m a fan scholar in the same way that an expert in ants is an entomologist: it’s a useful bit of nomenclature, but don’t ask them about spiders. There’s obviously a lot of benefits to specialization: but for someone who has aspirations towards the public humanities, I’m increasingly aware of my own need to have a more comprehensive overview of the different types of fans.

Over the 30 years of fan studies’ existence there have been numerous attempts to do just that: create a useful paradigm that neatly sections off fan practices into families and genii. The split between “transformational” and “affirmational” fandoms, first proposed by a pseudonymous fan in 2009 and later taken up by scholars like Henry Jenkins, is broadly handy, but problematic: it can lead to viewing “affirmational” fandom such as cosplaying, merchandise-buying, and information-collecting (such as in wikis) as purely mimetic and of lesser cultural value than “transformational” fan activities (see Hills, 2014).

That binary also ignores the large swathes of people that perform both types of fandom, or whose fan practices exist somewhere in between, or not on that axis at all; it’s also slightly outdated. In 2009, transformational fans who wrote erotica about non-canonical ships could still be safely said to be “against” canon in some way, non-sanctioned and acting transgressively out of bounds. I would say that in many cases, that is far from the case today.

Something I’m interested in is how fan practices develop and spread from one “genus” of fandom to another. (Presuming “species” is an individual fandom, and “genus” is a group of species connected by ancestry and shared practice). You see this in the phenomena in sports RPF, for example: slash fanfiction is a genre of practice developed by media fandom (TV/film fandom) in the 1970s and 80s, but it has been “adopted out” so to speak to form the nucleus of a sub-species of sports fans.

This circulation of practice is especially notable in the field of transcultural fandom (see Morimoto, 2017). Fan practices developed in the context of East Asian pop music fandom, such as chart-boosting, have made their way over to Western fandoms and communities centering on non-music media objects. Digital platforms afford this circulation, which in turn results in a blurring of boundaries between fan species and increasing difficulty in parsing out which “type” of fan someone is. Practices are contagious and amoebic. The type of sparkly fancams intially made by K-pop idol fans were adopted by Succession stans.

Like the animal kingdom, there’s just so much going on. To say nothing of what was going on. Which types of fans have gone extinct? Which modes of interacting with media are now archaeological artifacts, thanks to the shifting relationality of the apparatus of cultural production with respect to audiences?

I think that especially in a time when many groups who might not explicitly consider themselves “fans” have freely taken up digital practices developed and popularized in fandom spaces, investigations into the origins and classifications of fans and fan culture has the potential to provide broader behavioral insights into online communities.

#fan studies

30 notes · View notes

stratataisen · 4 months

Text

GW2 WIP

Decided to share some bit of a GW2 piece I'm working on--because this hasn't left me alone since playing through this part.

HEAVY Path of Fire spoilers ahead....like literally in the first few sentences. You've been warned.

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

Zaethrin was exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. But then again, dying would do that to a person, wouldn’t it. He was still having trouble wrapping head around that. He died. His soul sent to the Domain of the Lost, broken and afraid. No memory of who he was or how he got there. Having to fight to get it all back before it was too late. Pale Mother, what would have happened if he hadn’t…if the Judge didn’t…Zaethrin shook his head. There was no use in thinking about that now. He was once again alive and had a God to stop.

That last thought had him sighing. There was no end to this, was there? Flopping on the to cot in the room provided to him, the necromancer groaned into the soft pillow beneath his face. Kiel’s crew had given him some small accommodations for the short trip so he could rest up--which he was eternally grateful for. And rest was exactly what he was planning to…

*Knock knock knock*

He groaned into his pillow again, louder this time. Maybe if he ignored them, they’d go away.

*Knock knock knock*

Or not.

Zaethrin sighed and pushed himself up. He took the few steps toward the door and opened it. To say he was surprised at who was standing there would be an understatement.

“Canach.”

“Commander,” his fellow sylvari greeted, the growl in his voice rumbling harder than usual. The warrior’s usual relaxed, almost bored expression was hard and stoney. A frown pulled his lip downward, making the needles of his mustache flare slightly. Soft purple eyes didn’t meet his own, instead staring straight ahead into Zeathrin’s shoulder.

“What can I--” the necromancer was cut off when Canach pushed his way inside his room. A flash of annoyance flared up inside as Zaethrin growled softly, shutting the door. “Why please, by all means, come inside.”

“You died,” was the only response he got from the other man.

Zaethrin frowned and looked at him, more than a little surprised to see Canach pacing back and forth in the small space by the bed.

“What?”

“You died,” Canach repeated, this time stopping to look at him. His face was nigh unreadable, save for the storm that was brewing behind the luminous eyes. He started to pace again, this time a little faster.

“I’m very much aware of that, Canach,” Zaethrin said, more than a little snippy as exhaustion got the better of him. He was in no mood to try and figure out what the other man was getting at. “What are you on about?”

The pacing stopped again, and Zaethrin could see Canach’s jaw working as his fist tightened to the point of shaking.

“You were dead,” came the soft whisper, the unusually smarmy tone unrecognizable. The strong, steady warrior Zaethrin was used to seeing appeared small in that moment. “There was no life left in you…as you laid there, beat and broken…and I…I don’t…” He shook his head, as if trying to shake away a thought. “My apologies, I should be letting you rest.”

By that point, Zaethrin’s annoyance had melted away.

#strata wip #guild wars 2 #gw2 #gw2 fanfiction #canach #zaethrin #gw2 commander

3 notes · View notes

jun-residence · 1 year

Text

The Madman's partner

Pairing; Zandikk x Jun

[Prologue] | Next part

CW; Author suck at fighting scenes, OOC? Zandikk, Spoilers for Sohreh's notes, blood, gore, killing, mentions of class division, Jun's lore spoiler

It was clear the division of those that hail from the sands with those born in Greater Lord Rukhadevatta's domain. Of those who managed to pass through the Akademiya's strict standards, there were only two that hailed from the desert.

There was an individual known as Zandikk. He was an enigma among his peers, too focused on busying himself with his "research". Jun meanwhile, was slightly more social. However, he doesn't take too kindly to others judgment of his personality at first notice of his origins. The brunette hailed from King Deshret's land, having been accepted to the akademiya courtesy of his godfather, a leading scholar in advanced technology.

Zandikk wanted to do a research expedition in the jungle. Jun was unfortunately roped into this courtesy of Sohreh. The lady was familiar with him, and are aware of his skills as a marksman so she asked him to tag along.

He begrudgingly agreed after the payment of 60.000 mora was given by Sohreh. She was older than the two males, but things weren't awkward. Her and Jun got along surprisingly enough, and out of the corner of his eye he can see the slightest pout on Zandikk's face.

The brunette leaned against the tent pole, observing the shallow waters surrounding them. Sohreh marvelled about finding a sub species of micro scarabs, but he just tuned her out.

Zandikk sat down beside him, crossing his legs in an X mark, and without warning layed his head on Jun's shoulder. The other ignored it, rather he seemed so unbothered by Zandikk's casual display of closeness. "Have you found anything interesting?" Jun strikes up a conversation with him, hands busy cleaning his blades, one that his mother used before she succumbed to the deserts song of destruction.

"Not yet, unfortunately." Zandikk replied, taking off the preserved kalatpala lotus flower placed in Jun's hair. The bluenette studied the petals, while Jun finished cleaning his blades.

Sohreh suddenly returned with a few stalks of the surrounding flora, and placed them all infront of the two males before sitting down herself. The two researchers talked about the native species and it's characteristics, while Jun was on the lookout, though he can't exactly see anything because it was quite foggy after it rained the previous night.

Suddenly, Jun's ear picked up the sound of a thrown blade. He pulled Sohreh to his chest, getting the female into safety as a blade pierced through the ground Sohreh sat just a moment ago.

"Well, Well, Well. Look who's here. Little old Jun." An Eremite gleefully chuckled. Jun held onto his blades and placed himself infront of Sohreh. "Zandikk. Get Sohreh out of here, now."

"You're not going anywhere pretty boy!" The Clearwater Eremite charged forward, trying to slash at the trio. Her blades were blocked by Jun's, who quickly pushed her away. "Now!" He yelled, using the discarded sword on the ground to block the Daythunder's claymore(?) Attack.

Zandikk nodded, and got Sohreh and himself far away from the campsite. Jun turned towards the four eremites standing in front of him. "Now that my acquaintances are safe, I won't need to hold back." He said, unleashing the spirits trapped within his blade who clinged onto him.

The man was gifted a Pyro vision from the gods, as such he infused his blades with elemental energy, and begin to charge at them from above.

"Judgement day has come!"

Meanwhile, with Zandikk and Sohreh, they were deeper in the forest. She panted, as her hand was dragged by Zandikk who ran. "What about Jun?! We can't just leave him alone to deal with it! He's outnumbered!" She yelled out, concerned for her friends safety. Zandikk who already shared a house with the brunette showed no sympathy. He was well aware the eremites were outmatched by Jun, so he had no worries.

"I'll inform him through the Akasha terminal where we are. So when he's done with having fun, he'll know where to find us." The bluenette coldly state, hand reaching out to touch his Akasha. Jun was dodging the arrows shot at his direction along with the volts of electricity seeping through the ground. The injuries a Clearwater and sword dancer sustained was life threatening.

"You'll turn your back on your own people and even injure them? I thought Malik raised you better!" The Daythunder yelled out, getting ready to smack him with his claymore. Jun felt his veins pop up across his face. Gritting his teeth, he unleashed a wave of both water and fire attacks at the man. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

His last attack rendered the Daythunder armless. Turning around, he threw his blade towards the others back, impaling him. The brunette panted out, wiping away the blood on his face and closing his blade opening, trapping the spirit within it again.

"See you in hell, bastard."

Suddenly, he heard a sound coming from his discarded earpiece. Picking the thing up, he saw a message from Zandikk. "We're near the gigantic tree south of your location. After you're done, come here to bring us home. We'll continue this another day." The message read. Jun turned the earpiece off and placed it in his pants pocket. His shirt was torn to shreds, and there were many wounds on him. He stole the Clearwater's shirt, and placed it on himself. It was somehow a perfect fit. Grabbing one of their scarf and blindfold, he wore it and left to find his "friends", though not before retrieving his blade from the man's back.

#genshin impact oc #oc #genshin impact #eremites #Jun my beloved💐

11 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 1 year

Text

Pinky Unleashed Ch 11

AN: I like angst and werewolf Pinky too much, okay?

AO3 Link

Ch 11: Surface Pressure

“Sacrilege! You dare bring a servant of Dark Gaia to my domain? He is not welcome here!”

Pinky whimpered, shrinking away from the bull statue’s fiery glare as it blamed him for something beyond his control. He tucked his claws out of sight, in the vain hope that hiding them would make the statue less furious at his presence.

Brain’s fists clenched at the pitiful sight. Pinky was many things, including every synonym for idiot in the thesaurus, but he was definitely not helping an evil entity rain destruction upon the planet.

He didn't care if this bull statue was some all-powerful artifact, deity, or spirit from ancient times. Nobody was allowed to accuse Pinky of committing such awful acts.

"Pinky serves me, you glorified tin can! He's not affiliated with Dark Gaia, so cut your ridiculous claims before you say something you'll regret!" Brain shouted.

"Um, Brain?" Chip said meekly. "Maybe we shouldn't make the very scary statue-"

The statue's eyes flared a bright, dangerous red as the entire temple quaked.

"-angry," Chip squeaked, huddling beside a wide-eyed, frightened Pinky.

Whether he was afraid of the sudden quake, or the statue's accusations was uncertain. Despite his fear, he had enough awareness to snake his long tail around Brain's waist and drag him to safety in his large shadow as the ground trembled from some unseen power.

Though Brain's first instinct was to disentangle himself, Pinky's tail provided the only stability he had in this disaster-stricken world. It had a practical purpose, so he grudgingly allowed it.

Only until the earthquake ended though. He had a reputation to maintain.

Stop shaking, he scolded his traitorous hands, which tightly gripped the pink skin of Pinky's tail as the ground continued to rattle.

"FOOLS! YOU DARE INSULT ME WHEN YOU BRING THAT CREATURE INTO MY TEMPLE, IGNORANT OF THE DESTRUCTION IT WILL WROUGHT? DON'T ATTEMPT TO DECEIVE ME, I KNOW YOU'RE ALL ALLIED WITH DARK GAIA!"

Brain gritted his teeth, wanting to shout that the statue needed to quit making ridiculous assumptions, but Pinky’s tailtip was coiled around his mouth.

“However, it has been millennia since I was last…entertained.”

The fearsome glow in the statue’s blazing eyes dimmed, the earthquake finally ceasing. Once the ground was steady underfoot, Brain broke free from Pinky’s tight grip.

"Enter my labyrinth. I will dispose of you personally to ensure the protection of the earth. Make your way to the end…if you dare."

A jagged crack appeared in the bull statue’s snout, quickly spreading over its head, chest, and back before it crumbled into lifeless bronze shards. Everyone silently stared at the remains, unwilling to move or say anything in case the statue pierced itself back together.

Among the rubble was an opening in the floor that had been previously covered up by the statue. Peering in, Brain could only see three stone steps, the rest of the staircase blocked by a wall of darkness.

Then Chip bravely crept out of Pinky’s shadow. Slowly reaching out with one finger, he poked at a fragment that used to be a hoof. He yelped, leaping back when the fragment fell over.

But nothing else happened.

Brain counted to ten before finally deeming it safe to come out from underneath Pinky.

“We are not your entertainment, you barbaric bovine,” Brain snapped as he picked up a bronze shard and hurled it at the statue’s face for good measure.

It harshly struck the statue's snout, bouncing off with a metallic clang.

Don't ever insinuate that Pinky is capable of destroying the world in my presence again.

If it weren't such a horrifying concept, he might've laughed at just how ludicrous it was.

Behind him, Pinky whimpered faintly, lying despondently on his stomach and trying to hide his paws from view.

Though Brain tried to focus his thoughts on making it through the temple alive, the sad, pathetic sight felt like a knife to the chest, and Brain found it impossible to ignore the sensation no matter how much he tried to focus on logic.

Steeling himself for the physical contact, Brain placed a hand on Pinky's muzzle, the soft fur brushing against his palm. "Ignore every filthy statement that moronic bull spewed out of his cud-chewing mouth, Pinky. It's nothing but…well, bull."

Pinky just stared at him with big, watery blue eyes.

Brain looked away. Pinky had a wide spectrum of aggravating, ever-shifting emotions. Sadness was always the worst of the bunch.

Brain's vast intellect wasn't useful when Pinky cried. All logic failed when he tried to stop the tears and bring back that stupid little smile.

All he could do was stand nearby, feeling dumb and helpless, and wait for the crying to cease.

Though his mind screamed that they didn't have all the time in the world, that they needed to get through the temple, something else deep within told him to make sure Pinky was…able to properly assist him.

It would be so much easier to concentrate on the temple if Pinky would cease his crying! But ordering him to stop never worked, as he learned from unfortunate experience.

The only thing he could do was keep his hand pressed against Pinky's muzzle and hope that by some miracle Pinky would get that disturbing legend and vessel nonsense out of his head in the next five minutes so Brain could concentrate on getting everybody through the temple in one piece.

Then Pinky jerked away with a whine. The sudden movement startled Brain, and he could only stare at Pinky as he slowly stood up. It was a pale shadow of Pinky’s usually peppy and excitable demeanor.

Brain’s hand pushed against empty air, only the fleeting memory of soft fur against his fingertips left behind.

Since when did Pinky shy away from physical touch? Normally, it took all of Brain’s strength to pry him off because he was clingy and irritating when he needed physical stimulation.

Or was this about his arm? Because it didn’t trouble him anymore. Chip’s strange healing ability had cleared away the pain and bleeding. It wasn’t even scarred.

“Nothing to worry about, Pinky,” Brain tried, holding out his healed arm for Pinky to see. “It’s healed now. We can move on.”

But Pinky turned and walked away, tail dragging along the floor. He wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

This matter would have to wait, Brain tried to tell himself. So why was it so difficult to turn his attention to navigating the temple?

Oblivious to the tension, Chip’s head popped out from behind a large bronze fragment that used to be part of the statue’s head.

“Hey, I think I’ve found something!” he called. “Take a look at this!”

Even if it wasn’t necessarily helpful, Brain seized advantage of the distraction and climbed over the rubble until he reached Chip, who was standing in front of a strange inscription that appeared to be written in the same language as the Gaia Manuscripts.

Pinky stood close enough to listen in, though he still kept his distance.

Brain resisted the urge to look at him, knowing that Pinky’s melancholy would only creep into his mind and make it difficult to focus on anything else.

Though he tried to make sense of the inscription, he never had the chance to ask the professor for the key on deciphering the ancient language. There wasn’t exactly a Rosetta Stone available to use as a guide.

Chip placed his finger on a symbol, the green bauble on his neck shining faintly. “This says ‘Teros the Bull, Temple Guardian of Earth’.”

It was hard enough to process that Chip had somehow opened the passage into the temple. And now he had the ability to read this mysterious language too?

“How are you able to read this?” Brain asked. Even the professor didn’t have it all translated, and Snowball was reliant on other sources for his information.

Chip’s wings fluttered nervously. “I really don’t know! I just can, I guess!”

Despite his bewilderment, Brain couldn’t deny that it was a useful ability. It would certainly save a lot of time.

There was a piece of the puzzle he was missing.

It couldn't be a coincidence that Chip had the ability to open Gaia Temples and read ancient engravings.

Trust Pinky to befriend someone with the exact sort of powers we need.

Something to ponder for later.

"Temple Guardian of Earth…" Brain murmured to himself as he took in his surroundings.

The soil material that made up the ceiling, somehow holding together without burying them alive. The depictions of farmers tilling their fields with bulls on yokes, the earthquake that occurred when Teros' anger flared…

Brain's eyes widened, his ears falling limply against his back as he came to a sudden realization.

"He can control the earth," Brain whispered. A dreadful feeling washed over him.

As if they weren't in over their head already.

In a place where soil, metal, and stone was everywhere, the Temple Guardian wielded complete power over them.

How are we supposed to contend with that?

There was a light tap on his shoulder. "Brain, are you okay?" Chip asked in worry. "You look kinda pale."

Pinky let out a soft 'aroo'.

They were waiting on him, no, relying on him to make the plan and lead them through the temple.

I don't have a…no! They can't know that I don't have enough reliable information, oh what am I saying? I'm the Brain! Of course I have a plan! I always have a plan!

"No need for concern," Brain said brusquely, quickly straightening his posture and lifting his ears so that his body language wouldn't betray him. "I was merely coming up with a plan to get through this labyrinth. That's all."

Even though he didn't know what to expect within the labyrinth. Teros' threat loomed heavily over him. He made it sound like it wouldn't just be a maze that was challenging but doable.

"What's a labyrinth?" Chip asked.

It was incredibly relieving to have a question where he could confidently give an answer.

"In classical mythology, it was an underground dungeon built to hold a vicious half-man, half-bull creature. It was impossible to navigate unless one had a special thread to guide the way, and it was filled with lethal traps and hostile creatures," Brain explained, grateful for his literary expertise. "But the term can be applied to any challenging maze."

Pinky pretended to apply eyeliner.

"No, Pinky. The chances of running into David Bowie in tight pants here are miniscule to zero."

Pinky wiped his forehead in relief.

Chip twitched nervously. “So will this labyrinth be challenging?”

“An absurd question,” Brain said. “I’ve had plenty of experience navigating through insipid mazes at the lab. Even if this labyrinth is more complex and layered than the standard fare, I shall have it figured out in no time. All you need to do is follow my lead and don’t wander off. That goes double for you, Pinky.”

With his bold assertion, Chip and Pinky perked up, completely believing that all they had to do was follow Brain’s instructions and they’d make it through the dungeon just fine.

Brain wished he could feel the same, as much as he wanted to believe in his own claims.

The lab rarely created new mazes, usually running their mice through the same setup each time. The repetitive nature had long sunk into Brain’s mind, and muscle memory guided him while he focused on dissuading Pinky from taking random turns on a whim.

But this labyrinth was unfamiliar. It would take time to work out a pattern while trying to stay alive.

“Before we forge onwards, I’m laying out some ground rules,” Brain declared. “The most important of these is that both of you will follow my instructions to the letter. If I say turn left, we turn left. If I say straight, we head straight. And we remain in each other’s sight at all times. There will be no wandering, lagging behind, or fooling around. Understand?”

Pinky and Chip nodded.

Well, Pinky would likely get distracted at some point. Though Brain knew that Pinky didn’t do it on purpose, it was still an irritating quirk. But he was expecting it.

“Chip, you’ll be our scout,” Brain added. “Fly overhead and report any paths, traps, or anything unusual you see.”

Chip’s wings fluttered. “Right. I can do that!” he exclaimed.

Then Brain turned to Pinky. He’d thought long and hard over what task to assign Pinky, knowing that he would function better if he had something to keep him occupied.

“Pinky, keep your ears pricked for danger. If you hear anything suspicious, let me know immediately. If we run into anything hostile, our first action is retreat. We will only engage if escape isn’t an option.”

The fact remained that Pinky was the only one in their ragtag group who could potentially ward off threats. Chip clearly wasn’t a fighter and Brain didn’t have any weaponry apart from his sharp mind.

But since the present danger was growing with every passing second, that would have to change in the future. He didn’t want to feel completely unprepared anymore.

Pinky shuffled his paws, an anxious growl coming from deep within his throat.

He was the reason why Brain wanted to retreat instead of fighting back as their first action. He couldn’t gauge how much self-control Pinky had in battle, nor did he want Pinky to fight alone without reliable backup.

“Just do as I say, Pinky, and you won’t have to worry about fighting anything,” Brain said, turning on his flashlight as he approached the mysterious staircase. He wasn’t sure how far down it went, only that it was underground, dark, and cold. “Now come. We’ve dawdled here long enough.”

Chip’s orb glowed as they began their descent, casting an eerie green shimmer on the rocky walls.

Any amount of light helped.

But it was disconcerting to observe Pinky’s dark fur blending in seamlessly with the pitch-black labyrinth. His blue eyes glowed brightly, and though their situation was bleak, somehow the shine provided a faint glimmer of hope.

Brain tumbled off the last step, not expecting the drop to be so steep, or for the ground to change from relatively smooth to rough and gritty.

He quickly stood up and dusted himself off, waving away Pinky's soft whine and Chip's attempt to aid him.

Just because he wasn't enormous like Pinky or had wings like Chip didn't mean he was vulnerable.

"I'm fine," he said, waving his flashlight around so he could get a better idea of his surroundings.

The walls were made up of the same rough, rocky material as the floor, but as he trailed his flashlight towards the ceiling, his heart sank as he spotted their first problem.

The stalactite-covered ceiling hung low, the sloped walls curving to form a tunnel that seemed to stretch on forever.

Brain wasn't claustrophobic. He lived in a cage, he walked through mazes all the time, he'd navigated plenty of narrow crawlspaces on the quest to world domination.

So why did it feel so cramped here? He could've sworn

He didn't dare send Chip to scout ahead by himself, lest he and Pinky lose sight of him.

"Let's keep moving," Brain said, cursing himself for his hesitation. "Chip, stay low for now. Perhaps the ceiling will rise later and we can better map our route."

Chip nodded, sticking close to Pinky,

As they traversed the tunnel, Brain could feel Pinky's eyes on his back, watching him closely.

Dim as he was, Pinky had always been great at sensing Brain's moods. He got the odd sense that Pinky could see right through his confident leader facade, though he couldn't say it aloud.

Brain just wanted to keep his pride and dignity intact for as long as he could.

There was a chill in the air, water dripping from somewhere above them. A musty scent clogged Brain's nose, and he blamed the effort it took just to breathe on the stench rather than his nerves.

The tunnel finally opened into a T-shaped split path. Unfortunately, the ceiling was still too low for Chip to fly.

Two options. One could lead to the end of the maze, or to certain doom. Or they were both terrible choices, and Brain could only hope he was choosing the less painful demise.

"Hear anything, Pinky?" Brain asked.

Pinky's ears twitched constantly as he listened for any noise. He moved towards the path leading right, only for his hackles to rise, his fur bristling as he nervously growled.

Chip gulped. "That doesn't sound good…"

"Try the left path," Brain said. Pinky's violent reaction told him all he needed to know.

But that didn't mean the opposite direction was any safer.

Pinky tilted his head to the left, ears still twitching. Brain tried not to stomp his foot and shout at Pinky to hurry up.

If there was truly something else lurking within the labyrinth, he didn't want to risk discovery.

Then Pinky's tail wagged. Based on his lack of negative reaction, the left path was definitely the better option.

"This way," Brain declared. He never thought he'd see the day where he'd be relying on Pinky of all mice to navigate a maze. The world had truly turned upside down.

But they'd only traveled for a short distance when the left fork opened into a large cave with seven different caverns to choose from.

Brain pointed his flashlight down each pathway, though the beam didn’t help him see what was potentially inside each cavern. Could be a trap, or a dead end, or something truly horrific. The possibilities were endless, and each scenario only became more worrisome than the last.

His flashlight was trained on the last pathway. When he started to move the beam away, something glittered from within the cavern, though he couldn’t determine the source.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, hoping to see something that wasn’t rooted in reality.

Then Pinky, who honed in on anything sparkly and glittering like a moth to a flame, let out an excited howl and bounded into the cavern before Brain could stop him.

“Hey, wait for me!” Chip shouted, zooming into the cavern after Pinky. “We aren’t supposed to split up, you know!”

In his hasty pursuit of Pinky, he’d forgotten to pick up Brain entirely.

"You can't just select a path because you spotted something shiny!" Brain snapped as he ran after them. He wasn't nearly as fast as they were, lacking Chip's flight and Pinky's speed. He reminded himself to bop them both for their sheer stupidity and lack of foresight. "It takes cold deduction and cognitive reasoning, traits that both of you are sorely-"

The cavern was full of glowing, colorful crystals of all shapes and sizes, stunning Brain into silence. They jutted out from every surface, breaking through the rocks with their beautiful, ethereal light.

"-lacking," Brain finished lamely, breaking off a nearby crystal fragment for further examination. Since there was enough light here to see by, Brain turned off his flashlight to conserve battery.

The fragment in his hands was a pale lavender, but as he rolled it in his hands, it changed colors from bright pink to turquoise to mint.

It was a mesmerizing effect.

He wondered what sort of chemical properties the crystal contained that allowed for such luminescence. Fluorite? Selenite? Phosphorus? A previously undiscovered substance?

It was tempting to pocket the crystal so he could run experiments with it at the lab, perhaps inject a hypnotic substance into lab-grown crystals with the same properties as the original. Then he would market them as holistic new age self-healing crystals, come up with a marketing strategy to sell them to the masses, and take over the world once everyone realized that he, the Brain, would truly create a new, glorious age in recorded history!

He could always incorporate the crystals into a chandelier for his future luxurious palace too…

But the sight of Pinky in his transformed state brought him back to sobering reality.

Hesitation crept up on him, but Brain dropped the crystal. World domination was not an option in this near apocalyptic climate.

Pinky and Chip were making ridiculous faces in a large, reflective crystalline formation, their tongues hanging out grotesquely as they pulled and stretched their faces, laughing the entire time.

Brain could just hear the excited 'it's so shiny and shimmery and splendid, Brain!' in Pinky's happy yaps.

Though he was irritated by the delay in favor of simple amusement, he supposed that it was better for Pinky to joyfully wag his tail while making stupid faces with his reflection instead of shivering with fear at the sight of his fangs.

Pinky had been so somber since this entire ordeal began, even when he had his moments where everything seemed perfectly normal.

Finding enjoyment in the simplest things, even if they were rather frivolous…that was how Pinky was supposed to be.

But couldn’t he wait until they were out of mortal peril first?

“Alright, you’ve had your amusement,” Brain declared, throwing crystals at his wayward companions to get their attention. “Now come. We need to find a way out of the labyrinth, and we can’t do that if you insist on running o—Pinky, cease your consumption of strange crystals at once!”

Pinky hid the chewed up golden crystal behind his back, giving Brain an apologetic smile with crystal shards between his fangs.

“Do they taste good?” Chip asked eagerly, grabbing the structure he’d been making ridiculous faces in before.

Before Brain could warn him that he shouldn’t attempt to consume everything Pinky ate, Chip bit down on the crystals and immediately screamed in pain, flying in circles as he clutched his mouth.

“You’re a terrible influence on your amnesiac friend,” Brain sighed.

Pinky only shrugged, the insult bouncing off him like usual.

They’d wasted enough time here. It was time to leave.

The crystal cavern stretched out beyond what he could see. Perhaps there was a pathway in the back?

Brain had only taken a few steps forward when the ground shook violently.

The cavern rumbled, vibrating painfully in Brain’s ears. Pinky growled, his jovial demeanor vanishing, his ears pricking in alarm. Chip instantly latched onto Pinky’s neck, his fur puffing out as dust, rocks, and crystals tumbled from the ceiling.

“It’s a trap! We have to get-nyah!”

A crystalline spear burst from the ground, missing Brain by mere inches. His heart raced from the realization that he could’ve been impaled so easily.

He barely had time to process the first attack before another crystal suddenly protruded from the wall, nearly slamming into Pinky’s head, though he crouched just in time.

“Back to the entrance! Quickly!” Brain shouted, running as fast as he could from the crystals that glowed a frightening, demonic crimson, as if the entire cavern had come straight from hell.

Chip clung to Pinky’s neck, screaming as the transformed mouse swiftly dodged the crystals attempting to impale him. But instead of a hasty retreat out of the cavern, Pinky barreled straight towards Brain.

The slam of Pinky’s heavy paw against the ground tripped Brain as he fled, but he never hit the ground. Just when he thought he was going to be another horror movie side character who died because they tripped at a horribly inconvenient time, Pinky snatched him up. Brain let out an embarrassing squeak as Pinky roughly clutched him against his warm chest, his gait lopsided as he sprinted on three limbs.

Despite the initial roughness, Pinky’s sharp claws never pricked him. Instead, he was cradled within Pinky’s palm and pressed against fluffy fur.

But now wasn’t the time to be lulled into security, not when they were in hostile territory!

Brain quickly climbed onto Pinky’s shoulder, gripping velvety, dark fur in his hands as he climbed onto Pinky’s head so he could better guide them to safety and free all of Pinky’s limbs so he could run more efficiently.

The delay cost them dearly. A crystalline wall blocked off the entrance, so Brain yanked on the untamable fur tuft on Pinky’s head to quickly turn him around.

“Don’t stop!” Brain shouted as Pinky hastily changed direction. “Keep going!”

Chip squeezed his eyes shut, too frightened to speak.

It was difficult to think properly while being flung around in every direction as Pinky maneuvered around the relentless crystals, but Brain had no choice.

“Left, Pinky!” Brain ordered, and Pinky swerved as a thick, enormous crystal plunged down from the ceiling, splitting the rocky ground where it struck.

How far did this cavern extend? Surely they had to be almost to the end by now!

There were crystals on each side of Pinky, behind them, and attempting to cut off their escape route in front. The ground they were able to traverse became narrower, nor could they pick a different direction due to the crystals blocking the rest of the cavern.

Brain clutched Pinky’s long fur to his chest. It was the only thing that kept his mind from being completely overridden by fear.

Then he saw an opening in the cave wall ahead of them. There were no more crystals growing past that point!

“We’re almost there, Pinky! Just a little farther!” Brain shouted, urging Pinky to sprint even faster.

But he spoke too soon.

The crystals’ growth accelerated, a wall of thick crimson covering up their escape route. They were trapped on all sides, only a tiny, circular patch where Pinky stood had gone untouched.

But it wouldn’t last.

“Pinky?” Brain whispered, and the werewolf’s ears swiveled to better listen to Brain. Brain gripped Pinky’s fur, heart pounding as the spear-like crystals drew ever nearer. “If we don’t make it out of here, my friend…I-I just wanted you to know that I’ve always sort of…um, tolerated you more than I’ve ever tolerated anyone else.”

His words would die with him, buried beneath the earth alongside his impaled corpse in this crystal tomb.

Then Pinky made a soft, barely perceptible noise.

I’m sorry.

Pinky’s whine increased in volume as he rose onto his hind legs, until it turned into a deafening, otherworldly howl. Chip shrieked, the howl startling him so badly that he nearly fell off. Brain’s ears flattened, and he tried to cover them as much as he could without letting go of Pinky’s fur.

Pinky was hunched over, panting heavily with his tongue lolling out. His body was stiff, chest heaving with panic as he struggled to breathe. High-pitched whimpers mixed with predatory growls, the terrifying symphony echoing all around them.

“Pinky, what are you-”

The words died in Brain’s throat as Pinky’s fur darkened and bristled in his hands, emitting an ominous mist which spread until his entire body was pitch-black.

No…please, not again…

With a single blow of his heavy paw, Pinky shattered the crystal barrier, and Brain covered his face to protect himself against the tiny fragments that flew everywhere.

It was such a loud, violent attack for the simple, kindhearted mouse.

The fear he’d felt when Pinky’s shadowed form destroyed Dark Gaia’s minions returned, paralyzing him with doubts over Pinky’s self-control in this state, alongside worry over the devastation he’d see in Pinky’s blue eyes when he came to his senses.

How he’d lie down and try to seem nonthreatening, the crying and melancholic whimpering that seemed to stretch on forever, the way he still carried on despite shouldering the pain all by himself…

Pinky launched himself through the cave opening on all fours, and the crystal barrier closed behind them.

Chip opened one eye, still shivering from fear. “A-are we dead yet?” he asked meekly.

“...don’t ask ridiculous questions, Chip,” Brain said, but his voice came out weak and trembling, and he wasn’t sure if he believed himself.

They’d plunged into darkness again, with no glowing crystals to guide their path anymore.

Brain had dropped his flashlight somewhere in the cavern, making it impossible to discern their surroundings.

If it weren’t for the frightening growls and the fur in his hands, Brain would’ve assumed Pinky wasn’t present at all. He was camouflaged perfectly within the labyrinth, easily fitting in with the mysterious and hostile nature of whatever currently resided within these walls.

Brain couldn’t see anything clearly enough to give directions, but Pinky seemed to navigate well enough without bumping into any walls.

But he still hadn’t come out of his trance.

“We left those crystals behind,” Chip said, his orb emitting a weak green light. “How come he’s still acting funny?”

Pinky gave no indication that he’d heard Chip.

Brain pondered the last two times he’d seen Pinky in his shadowed form. Surely there had to be a connecting point somewhere.

“Pinky battled the Dark Gaia rats in his current state,” Brain mused. “Then he broke out of it once the action was over. And it occurred again when the ravens ambushed us in the catacomb. So it must be triggered when Dark Gaia is in close proximity.”

“Hmmm,” Chip murmured, sounding rather uncertain. “But there weren’t any Dark Gaia creatures in the cave. It was just the three of us and a whole bunch of pretty killer crystals.”

Well, Brain was sure they all counted as Dark Gaia creatures from Teros’ perspective.

But Chip had a point. The third time was an outlier, and Brain despised outliers. They always broke or contradicted an established pattern, forcing him to come up with a new explanation.

There had to be another commonality somewhere.

"So we were attacked twice, though Pinky didn't stay in this form for nearly as long," Brain said, mostly talking out loud to fill in the silence that Pinky's babbling should've occupied. "And we barely escaped the crystals. All three were high-stress, dangerous situations where we could've been seriously injured or killed."

Pinky's steps faltered, his ears falling. But he was silent as the grave, a trait that shouldn't be possible for Pinky.

Maybe he was finally coming out of his trance?

"But…there isn't anything attacking us now, and we aren't fleeing for our lives either," Chip said, though he sounded unsure. "Are we still in danger?"

“Yes, we are, and we always will be. It’s a dangerous world, Chip. The planet doesn't need to be split to accomplish that. It’s not all chocolate and cannolis out there,” Brain said, and for once, he was grateful for the darkness that hid his face from view. “There’s always something lurking in the shadows, waiting to take advantage of any vulnerability. Domination, saving the world, mere existence alone…there’s always a perilous element involved. And the only time you’re truly safe is…is when…”

The needle slid into his abdomen, piercing through fur and flesh. Brain barely had a chance to scream before the syringe plunged down, injecting a sickly yellow liquid into his body.

"Hold still!" the careless scientist who restrained him shouted. Brain struggled to breathe as rough, leather-clad fingers tightened around him like a vise.

Biting was his only defense, but it was rendered useless on leather gloves.

Only sheer willpower and the knowledge that he would one day rule the world kept the Brain from passing out, the agony in his stomach overwhelming his analytical mind.

Surely the needle didn't need to be embedded this long? Was this moron trying to poke a hole in a vital organ?

It took an eternity, but the needle finally came out with a sickening pop.

The scientist chucked him back into the cage, unconcerned by the pain he'd inflicted on his test subject.

It was humiliating that he couldn't stand without a bout of dizziness overtaking him, but he managed to half-crawl, half-limp to his straw bed and collapse upon the straw that really should've been replaced a week ago.

He would allow himself a fifteen-minute rest period to let the pain subside, then he'd get started on his plans. And if the pain was still there, well, he'd just have to work through it.

Just fifteen minutes of peace and quiet…

"Hiya, best friend! Good to see ya back! Me and Clippy were just talking about you!" a too-cheerful voice exclaimed.

…that were instantly shattered by his dimwitted cagemate who couldn't find his way out of a paper bag.

And Brain used to believe it was just a turn of phrase until he had to free that idiot from a paper bag after he'd gorged on an intern's ham and cheese sandwich.

Apparently, Pinky's latest inanimate friend was Clippy the paper clip.

"For the last time, sharing a cage doesn't make us best friends," Brain snapped. His first and last best friend hated him now. He wasn't keen on making any new ones.

All they did was cause heartache.

Brain turned away from Pinky, the sudden movement sending flashes of pain through his abdomen.

The only reason he even had that name was because he was too stupid to realize that Brain was insulting the so-called scientists of ACME Labs. Unfortunately, that little incident had led Pinky to believe they were truly fun fun silly-willy bestest friends and buddies and chums forever and ever and ever, or something as inane as that.

They weren’t friends when they met, they weren’t friends now, and they never will be in the future.

He didn’t need friends. He was the Brain, a future world leader renowned far and wide for his superior mind.

Yet his stomach churned as if the needle was still inside him. The pain wasn’t going away. It never did.

“Brain, are you okay?” Pinky sounded worried, but Brain knew better than to fall for his false concern. He was a liar, just like everyone else.

There was a warm hand on his shoulder, scorching Brain’s fur where it touched. He slapped it away, not needing the extra pain that always came with physical contact.

“Go away,” Brain gasped, clutching his stomach as another wave of agony rippled through him. “Leave me alone.”

“Poit…” Pinky whispered, and somehow that sad, pathetic word triggered an entirely new ache in Brain’s chest.

Was the effect of that strange liquid spreading through his bloodstream?

The lab was silent after that. The scientists had all moved onto another section of the lab, the mice completely forgotten.

And Pinky was…well, he wasn’t sure what Pinky was doing, nor did he care to know.

Pain was caused by chemical pathways along the nervous system. All he needed to do was focus on obstructing the path, and the pain would cease. Then he could finally complete his plan for world domination.

But that was easier said than done. It was impossible to concentrate.

All he could do was lay in the straw, weak and helpless and vulnerable. There was no safety to be found anywhere. He could be scooped up at any time, injected with substances and forced to cater to the humans’ whims in the name of science.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to be safe.

That’s why he needed to rule the world…so nothing would never hurt him again.

Suddenly, his ears pricked in alarm at the sound of approaching footsteps. Was another scientist coming to take him out of the cage? Were they trying to inject more unknown liquids in him?

He was out in the open, too vulnerable and easy to grab. Though he tried to stand and relocate to the farthest corner of the cage, a stabbing pain shot through his body, and he collapsed onto the straw.

Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the inevitable.

Yet instead of a latex-gloved hand clamping tightly around his body, something warm and fuzzy was draped over his shoulders, a gentle pair of hands brushing Brain’s fur.

And Brain blinked up at Pinky, who smiled in reassurance as he wrapped a purple blanket around Brain’s body.

Though Brain was too old for a security blanket, a new, pleasant sensation overtook him. Though it didn’t completely chase away the pain, it still felt…nice.

“Me and Blankie will keep you safe from those mean needles, Brain. I promise.”

There was nothing but sincerity behind those simple, yet inviting blue gaze. Maybe it was okay to believe him, even if Brain didn’t understand why he was the recipient of such a kind gesture.

Brain hadn’t realized how much of Pinky’s fur he’d gathered into his hands during his recollection, or that his face was pushed against the fluff at all, Pinky’s familiar scent teasing his nose. His face was damp, and he quickly scrubbed it away with the dark fur.

Regardless of the color, the texture was still undoubtedly Pinky’s.

“...never mind,” he choked out, wishing Pinky would say something. He’d give the world to hear any of Pinky’s familiar, inane verbal tics again.

“But you never finished your-” Chip protested, but Brain cut him off.

“Forget I said anything!” Brain snapped, his voice reverberating loudly throughout the chamber.

Too loudly, he realized his mistake too late. He’d just given away their location to every hostile denizen.

A low, menacing growl built up in Pinky’s throat, his ears shooting up in alarm.

Heavy, creaking footsteps thundered towards them like an army marching to battle, several pairs of blazing red eyes shining out from the darkness.

They were surrounded on all sides. There was no escape.

End AN: I knew I wanted the first Temple Guardian to be a bull cause I wanted to homage classical mythology in some way, namely the Minotaur myth. Draft names for Teros were Brutus and Clay.

I have never actually watched Labyrinth, nor do I need to see David Bowie’s tight pants.

If you have ever watched Pokemon Spell of the Unown, I like to think the crystals trying to kill the protags in this story look similar to the crystals in this movie.

Ha, near-death love confession! I hope y’all are happy!

Poor Brain is really struggling with his leader role in the group, managing Pinky’s werewolf angst, and trying to keep them all alive cause he’s the only one with a sense of self-preservation. He acts like he knows what he’s doing, but he’s out of his depth and knows it, though he’ll never admit it.

#pinky and the brain #pinky unleashed

7 notes · View notes