#its simply crucial to his design

[phoenix-art-official]

some wilfie requests from discord =w=

#wilford warfstache #warfstache #markiplier #markiplier cinematic universe #mpcu #I refuse to draw wilford without his Middies #its simply crucial to his design

[infizero]

Why Ambrosius and Ballister’s Relationship Feels So Different in the Movie (Nimona)

As someone who read Nimona countless times growing up, I am very familiar with the story and these characters. Which is why when I watched the movie, I was struck by how different Ambrosius and Ballister felt. They seemed like totally different and unfamiliar characters to me, and it didn’t have anything to do with their designs.

After rereading the original Nimona graphic novel recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that the main reason they feel like completely different characters in the movie comes down to one thing: the removal of the joust.

When I watched the movie, I was surprised by the fact that they changed the circumstances that drove these two apart. But it didn’t hit me just how much this one event shapes both of their characters and their relationship to each other until I reread the book. 

The joust is CRUCIAL to their dynamic. It pervades every interaction they have with each other, they bring it up constantly, it is literally the crux of their collective storyline. We learn about it on PAGE 5 of the whole book, and their big heart-to-heart when Ballister is captured near the climax of the story is based around Ambrosius finally admitting the truth about what happened. Honestly I’d say that him finally coming to terms with what he did and apologizing for it is probably what allowed these two to finally find peace together by the end of the book.

We get something similar to it in the movie. Ambrosius still is responsible for Ballister losing his arm, but it is under WILDLY different circumstances. So I want to talk about how the joust affects them in the book, and then explain why the movie’s version of events, while similar on the surface, has a completely different effect on everything. So let’s get into it!

(All images of the book are via pictures of my own physical copy btw, so apologies if they’re not the best quality.)

(Also I want to make it clear that I don’t hate the movie nor its adaptation of these two. I do personally greatly prefer the book, but this post is not here to tear down the movie and exclaim that the book was way better. I just find it interesting how changing one event can have huge ripple effects!)

Part 1: The Graphic Novel (AKA: “My Boyfriend Shot Off My Arm Because of His Wild Ambition!”)

Like I said before, we learn about the joust very early on; Chapter 2, page 5. It is told to us first via Ballister’s perspective. Nimona asks if she can kill Ambrosius while they’re making evil plans, and Ballister says no -- if anyone is going to kill Ambrosius, it’s going to be him. We then get a flashback to the joust itself.

Ballister explains how they were friends and how the joust was the first time they had been pitted against each other. Ballister won fair and square, but in his words:

BALLISTER: “but Ambrosius hates to lose.”

BALLISTER: “He always claimed it was an accident. No one could prove otherwise.”

BALLISTER: “Turns out the Institution had no use for a one-armed hero. I took the only other viable option.”

Ambrosius used a weaponized lance and blasted Ballister’s arm off. After the incident, Ballister was rejected by the Institution, and became a villain instead of the hero he had originally set out to be.

In Chapter 3 we see Ambrosius appear for the first time, and he and Ballister have a very relaxed sort of cartoon hero-villain dynamic going on. There’s definitely real animosity between them, but they don’t hesitate to simply talk casually to each other or help each other when things go south. It’s all pretty lighthearted and lowkey. 

They fight briefly, but after Nimona triggers the building they’re in to self-destruct, Ambrosius doesn’t hesitate to help Ballister escape and Ballister doesn’t hesitate to accept his help. Ambrosius even tries to reassure him that Nimona will be fine. After they make it out, with Nimona presumed dead, Ambrosius puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him to go before more guards show up. They may be “arch-nemesises”, but they certainly don’t act like it.

AMBROSIUS: “Haven’t you missed our fights? We haven’t done this since you tried to clone the king’s daughter!”

BALLISTER: “Ambrosius, I really don’t have time for this.”

AMBROSIUS: “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

BALLISTER: “You’re an idiot.”

By the way, I’m not going to be doing a full breakdown of every single scene with them, don’t worry. I just think that their first interaction shows off their dynamic very well. This is presumably how they’ve been with each other since the incident, as it’s made clear both here and throughout the book that they’ve both been doing this for a while at this point. They have a very established dynamic, which is important as that is one of the big differences between the book and the movie. (I’ll get into that more later.)

Whenever these two interact throughout the book, it’s clear that they have very different opinions on the incident that drove them apart and how their relationship functions now.

Ambrosius tries to act like it was simply an accident and that it doesn’t matter. Ballister became a villain of his own volition, and now they are arch-nemesises who have to fight because that’s their job -- though he doesn’t exactly act like he hates Ballister. 

Meanwhile Ballister saw it as a deep betrayal, and while he definitely still cares deeply about Ambrosius, he cannot get over the incident as easily as Ambrosius can.

Their respective feelings about what happened are shown perfectly in the scene in Chapter 7 where Ambrosius invites Ballister to meet with him in secret. Ambrosius tells him that the Institution has ordered him to kill Nimona and begs him to send her away, both so he doesn’t have to kill her and so things can go back to “normal.” Ballister then says that Ambrosius gave up normal at the joust.

AMBROSIUS: “I can’t believe you’re still hung up about that. It was a long time ago, you know.”

AMBROSIUS: “Besides, it was an ACCIDENT.”

BALLISTER: “I bet you’ve said that so many times you’ve started to actually believe it.”

Ambrosius insists it was an accident, and Ballister claims that he blasted off his arm because he couldn’t stand that Ballister was better than him. This sets Ambrosius off and they begin to argue.

AMBROSIUS: “You can’t blame me for how your life turned out! You made the choice to turn evil!”

BALLISTER: “Choice? I never had a choice! The Institution needed a villain. That lot fell to me. I never chose it.”

BALLISTER “And it could just as easily have been you, had that “accident” happened differently!”

AMBROSIUS: “Oh please! Do you really believe that?”

AMBROSIUS: “You never had it in you to be a hero! Everyone always knew that you were going to be the one to go bad!”

Ambrosius has convinced himself that Ballister chose to become evil, and that he isn’t responsible for what happened because it was an accident. We later learn that it wasn’t an accident though, which means that this really is him just making excuses so he doesn’t have to accept responsibility.

Ballister brings up the idea of Ambrosius becoming like him again after they fight, in one of if not my favorite scene between them in the whole book:

AMBROSIUS: “uugghh”

BALLISTER: “What if I cut off your arm right now?”

BALLISTER: “Then you’d see how fast the Institution would cast you aside. Just like they did me.”

AMBROSIUS: “You wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “No, I wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “And I’m the villain.”

BALLISTER: “What do you suppose that says about you?”

Ballister and Ambrosius are both very complicated individuals, and I think they lose a lot of their moral grayness in the movie. (Which I will get to later.) 

Ambrosius is the “hero”, but it was his ambition that drove him to blast Ballister’s arm off, and he’s never accepted responsibility for it, instead trying to convince himself that Ballister turned out this way because of his own actions. But he doesn’t disagree here that the Institution would throw him out if he were to lose his own arm, which I think is very telling. He knows deep down that he is not a good person, and he is not working for good people. But he doesn’t want to admit it.

Ballister is the “villain”, but in many ways he is better than Ambrosius. He abides by his own rules of never killing unless it’s necessary, and goes out of his way throughout the book to make sure that as few people are harmed as possible. He knows that the Institution is corrupt, because he was one of the people it failed. And he works to try and bring it down. 

Ambrosius cannot accept what happened, and because of that they aren’t able to get anywhere. They both know it wasn’t an accident. But because Ambrosius cannot admit it, they are stuck like this.

It’s a fascinating part of Ambrosius’ character that though he is adamant about Ballister being the one to destroy himself, he still cares about him. Much more openly than Ballister does in return, in fact. Ambrosius consistently does whatever he can to avoid having to kill him and always seems to have his wellbeing in mind. While he initially refused to kill Nimona, revolted at the idea that he should be ordered to kill “a little girl”, he eventually agrees to do so, but only under the condition that Ballister would be spared.

THE DIRECTOR: “Your motivations are quite transparent. I KNOW what the nature of your relationship was. I made it clear at the time that I disapproved. If your fixation on him has impeded your ability to do your job, then he truly has outlived his usefulness.”

THE DIRECTOR: “We’ll find you a new nemesis. Perhaps you will be more competent without Blackheart as a distraction.”

AMBROSIUS: “I won’t kill him. If you demand I kill the girl, I’ll do it - but I won’t kill him.”

Despite him and Ballister’s separation being his fault, he is the one who wishes most for things to go back to the way they were.  And this is likely why he refuses to accept responsibility about the joust. If it were truly an accident, then there shouldn’t be anything preventing them from continuing to be together. By painting it as an accident, Ballister becomes the villain for refusing to move on and let things go back to the way they were, not Ambrosius.

But finally, after Nimona disappears and Ballister lets himself be captured, we get probably the most important scene between these two. Ambrosius has been demoted due to his failure to kill Nimona, and is now forced to guard Ballister’s cell. Ambrosius is at his lowest that he’s been throughout the story, disgraced and discarded by the Institution who he had always been so loyal to.

It’s notable that Ambrosius says here that they both know Ballister is not evil, since he has been paddling that idea this whole time that Ballister made the choice to turn evil. By admitting that he is not, it shows that he is both starting to turn against the Institution, and starting to be more honest about what really happened.

Naturally, after Ambrosius wonders how things ended up like this and reminisces on when they were together, Ballister once again brings up the joust. And finally...

AMBROSIUS: “I- I never wanted to hurt you. I- I didn’t- It was-”

BALLISTER: “Don’t you dare try to tell me again that it was an accident.”

AMBROSIUS: “It wasn’t.”

...he admits the truth.

Ambrosius shares his side of the story, letting both us and Ballister in on what really happened that day. It wasn’t fully his fault -- the Director had called him into her office the night before the joust and told him that he had promise, that he was her choice out of the two, but that he had to prove himself against Ballister or that opportunity would go away.

On the day of the joust, Ambrosius received a weaponized lance instead of his regular one, which he instantly noticed. He asked what the Director expected him to do with it, and was told that she expected him to win.

To Ambrosius’ credit, he had no intention of using it, as he was confident that he would win. But the weight from the weaponized lance threw his balance off, and he ending up losing. And so...

AMBROSIUS: “I wanted it, more than anything. You never wanted it as much as me. You were just BETTER, without hardly even seeming to try.”

AMBROSIUS: “I don’t even remember- but I must have-”

[...]

AMBROSIUS: “I’m sorry, Ballister. I’m so sorry.”

To be fair, Ambrosius is not entirely to blame here. I doubt he would’ve come up with this idea on his own; he only acted on it because the Director had already given him the weaponized lance, and stressed the night before that the opportunities she dangled in front of him would not be given to him if he did not win. He was manipulated.

But he still made the decision to do it. He could’ve simply not used the lance. But he chose to. It is his fault.

It’s fascinating that the version of events Ambrosius had been swearing by this entire time is the exact opposite of what really happened. He claimed that it was an accident, he didn’t choose to do it, he had no choice, and that it was Ballister’s choice to become evil that caused all of this. But in reality, Ambrosius was the only one who got a choice here. And that choice is why their relationship was destroyed.

Ballister then brings attention to something even more damning:

BALLISTER: “You’ve never said it before.”

AMBROSIUS: “What?”

BALLISTER: “You never said you were sorry.”

AMBROSIUS: “I- didn’t?”

AMBROSIUS: “Oh god.”

I feel like you could interpret this in a lot of different ways, but the way I see it, they probably didn’t see each other much right after the incident. Ambrosius was catapulted into stardom as the kingdom’s beloved knight, and Ballister became a villain. I don’t think they really interacted much until their hero-villain antics started up, so I don’t think Ambrosius really had a chance to apologize. And if he did, he didn’t think to. Regardless of why, I do think it is messed up that he never apologized, and it goes to show just how much this event destroyed the bond they used to have.

From here, there’s not too much, as Plot Stuff starts getting serious around this point. Ambrosius ends up betraying the Institution after they continuously attack Ballister to provoke Nimona, attacking the guards who are holding him. This is when Ambrosius finally chooses Ballister over the Institution, which is great for his character, but there’s not really much more than that to say about it.

He and Ballister plan together to try and save the kingdom, with Ambrosius being adamant that they have to kill Nimona while Ballister refuses to. It’s during this conversation that Ambrosius mentions that he “never did anything good [his] whole life”, which is really sad but also kind of accurate, and it goes to show how he’s finally accepted responsibility for everything he’s done and had a part in up to this point.

Eventually Ballister is able to find a way to nerf her and they split up, with Ambrosius wanting to tell him something in case they don’t see each other again, but Ballister shuts him down.

BALLISTER: “We can’t do this now. Just... just promise me you won’t get yourself killed.”

It’s easy to assume this was something romantic and it likely was, but I imagine Ambrosius could’ve also wanted to say sorry again for everything. Perhaps it would’ve been a mix of both.

Regardless, they split up and climax stuff happens: Ambrosius attempts to kill Nimona but gets seriously injured, Ballister tries to reason with Nimona, etc. etc. Eventually at the very end, we see that these two have made peace and are together again, living on after everything. And that’s these two in the book!

Whew. I know that was a lot, but don’t worry. I won’t be going into as much detail about the movie’s version of events, as Ambrosius and Ballister have a much more cut-and-dry dynamic there than in the book. Their relationship in the original is very complex, so I wanted to make sure I covered all of those little nuances.

The joust is what defines their relationship and a lot of their respective characters; it is unimaginably important. Ballister became a villain because he lost his arm and was cast aside by the Institution. Ambrosius became the kingdom’s hero because he took Ballister out of the picture. They are unable to be around each other normally for very long because of their divided views of what happened. It is only after Ambrosius finally faces the truth that they are able to find peace together once more.

All of this is to say that it’s extremely hard to imagine what their relationship would be like in the graphic novel had the joust not happened the way it did. Which brings us to...

Part 2: The Movie (AKA: “My Boyfriend Sliced Off My Arm Because I Literally Killed Someone!”)

Before we start, I want to again stress that I am not trying to argue that any changes made here are inherently inferior. I am merely pointing out the differences between the book and the movie that contribute to the overall dissonance I and many others have felt when it comes to these two across versions.

Right off the bat, we are greeted with the movie’s version of Ambrosius and Ballister’s backstory. Like was implied in the book, they appear to be together (or something along those lines) which is great to actually see. But it quickly becomes clear that the events here are far different.

Instead of a joust, it is a knighting ceremony. There is no competition between Ballister and Ambrosius here. Ambrosius is knighted and cheered for, and then it is Ballister’s turn. He is knighted and everyone is silent before breaking into cheers as well. And then...

...his sword suddenly turns into a cannon and kills the queen. And in retaliation...

...Ambrosius chops his arm off.

Now if you’ve listened to ANYTHING I’ve said so far, this should immediately set off alarm bells. Because this one little difference changes everything about these two’s dynamic.

In the book, Ambrosius shot off Ballister’s arm in order to win his position. It was an entirely selfish and evil action spurred on only by his uncontrollable want to be the winner.

But here, Ambrosius is debatably justified in his response. Sure, he didn’t have to be as drastic as slicing his whole arm off (and I know there’s symbolism there with how the kingdom has taught people to get rid of problems), but Ballister -- to him -- literally just shot the queen. The queen who Ambrosius has sworn to protect. It is completely reasonable for him to respond in this way. And that’s a huge difference.

By changing this, we already have a completely different situation. Ambrosius here didn’t particularly want to cut Ballister’s arm off, it was a reflex, a response to a sudden danger. (Not saying he wanted to in the book, but there he made the deliberate decision to do so. In the movie it seems much more like an actual accident -- an overreaction that he immediately regrets and, as we’ll see, continues to regret.) And there was justification for it. There was no justification for it in the book. 

Instead of an Ambrosius whose ambition caused him to commit an evil act of betrayal against the man he was closest to, we now have an Ambrosius who, in the heat of the moment, overreacted like he was trained to after Ballister seemingly betrayed him. We’ll see over the course of the movie how this affects things, but that’s not the only major change here.

As we figure out shortly afterward, the movie makes a huge change when it comes to how the story functions, and that’s the timeline of events. In the book, the joust and the subsequent fallout between Ballister and Ambrosius happened years ago. We don’t know how long, but it’s clearly been a while. Enough time has passed where they are fully settled into their roles as hero and villain, and they look significantly younger in the flashbacks as well.

Like previously stated, book Ballister has been a villain for a while. He is completely settled into this role and has been making schemes and having fights of the week with Ambrosius for a considerable time. He knows what he’s doing. He has his own way of doing things, and when Nimona inserts herself into his life much of their early dynamic is him teaching her how he does things. In the book, Ballister is the teacher, Nimona is the student.

But in the movie, this incident just happened. It's unclear how exactly long it's been, but judging from Ballister's arm being created and his wounds healing it's probably been around a month.

Regardless of exactly how long it's been, the point is that these events are still very fresh. Ballister seemingly has just been laying low, not villain-ing it up, and he and Ambrosius haven't seen each other since the knighting ceremony. This changes literally everything about Ballister’s character. This post is specifically about Ambrosius and Ballister’s dynamic and not a Ballister character analysis so I’ll try to keep it brief, but movie Ballister seriously could not be more different from the book.

Compare this to movie Ballister, who I’m pretty sure never knows what he’s doing ever, at any point. He was training to be a knight. He has seemingly never once questioned the Institution. Now he has suddenly lost his arm and been thrust out into the unknown of being treated as a villain, and he has no idea how to handle it. Then Nimona shows up, tells him “hey, the Institution sucks”, and eventually he ends up believing so as well. In the movie, Nimona is the teacher, Ballister is the student.

Book Ballister actively resents the Institution and has no doubts that what they did to him is wrong. He has been plotting their downfall for a while. Nimona, on the other hand, seems to be out of the loop when it comes to the Institution and seemingly only starts hating them after she finds out how they threw Ballister out. Again, I’d just like to stress how completely and totally opposite their dynamic in the movie is compared to this.

There’s also Ballister being a scientist and being much more jaded in the book, but that’s not really important for the purposes of this post. So alas, I shall move on.

This different timeframe greatly impacts Ambrosius and Ballister’s dynamic, and obviously it would. There is a huge difference between a falling-out that happened years ago and you’re both still bitter about, and a falling-out that happened very recently. This, along with the different course of events resulting in said falling-out, is what causes their dynamic to feel so alien.

Also while talking about their early interactions in the movie, I’d just like to point out that while here Nimona is the one to assume Ambrosius is Ballister’s arch-nemesis and call him such, which Ballister doesn’t agree with, they were actually arch-nemeses in the book. Just something I noticed.

Something else I find interesting is later on, Ballister seems to be almost in disbelief about Ambrosius cutting off his arm and makes excuses for him.

BALLISTER: “He didn’t cut off my arm. He disarmed a weapon.”

BALLISTER: “It’s how we were trained.”

(Side note, but I wonder if book Ballister ever felt this way right after the joust? Did he try to convince himself it was an accident too, once upon a time? Did he try to make excuses?)

And to be fair, he is sort of right. Like I said before, Ambrosius’ reaction to Ballister seemingly killing the queen was debatably justified. While we’re obviously supposed to side with Nimona here and agree that Ballister should be more upset at Ambrosius for what he did, the movie definitely paints Ambrosius as more sympathetic overall. We see him freaking out internally about cutting off Ballister’s arm, and there is a lot of emphasis placed on how he and the others were trained by the Institution, inviting the audience to place more of the blame on the system that taught Ambrosius to act this way rather than him as a person.

And again, I’m not saying this is a bad thing! I love a good "taking down a corrupt system” story, and with the different circumstances of the movie it definitely makes more sense to play it this way. But in comparison to the book, Ambrosius is much easier to sympathize with. His character is changed from a very morally gray person who did something horrible and won’t admit it, to a pretty okay person who did something horrible and wholly accepts and bemoans that fact. He’s almost the opposite of what he was in the book.

So we have an Ambrosius who accepts what he did to Ballister and feels awful about it, and a Ballister who has no idea what he’s doing and is basically just being dragged around by Nimona. With both of them being basically the complete opposite of how they were in the book, is it any wonder that their relationship with each other feels so different when they themselves are so different?

Also, once again, the circumstances are very different. There is no Queen murder plot in the book, nor is their any attempt to clear Ballister’s name. A significantly different setting makes a difference too.

I don’t see a need to go into further detail about specific scenes in the movie as I think I’ve made my point clear. But going back to the movie’s lack of Ambrosius and Ballister’s already established hero-villain dynamic, I think these differences are made quite apparent just contrasting how they talk to each other. I mean, just compare these two scenes:

AMBROSIUS: “What? You’re gonna kill me now too?”

BALLISTER: “You believe that?”

BALLISTER: “Then you never knew me at all.”

AMBROSIUS: “uugghh”

BALLISTER: “What if I cut off your arm right now?”

BALLISTER: “Then you’d see how fast the Institution would cast you aside. Just like they did me.”

AMBROSIUS: “You wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “No, I wouldn’t.”

BALLISTER: “And I’m the villain.”

BALLISTER: “What do you suppose that says about you?”

Their relationship in the movie is much softer and healthier than it was in the book. Their dialogue in the movie tends to lean much more towards tried-and-true “friendship betrayal” stuff; the wound of Ballister’s “betrayal” may be fresher, but it’s clear both of them love each other far more than they resent each other. In the book, it is the opposite. The movie could NEVER have the bar fight scene. It’s too ugly and bitter to fit these softer versions of Ambrosius and Ballister.

Part 3: Conclusion

So, that was a lot. I hope it’s a little clearer now how big the differences are between these two’s dynamic in the book and the movie! Especially if you’re someone who is only familiar with one or the other. While I prefer the book due to me tending to prefer more complex and messy relationship dynamics, I totally understand the appeal of the more loving and healthy relationship Ambrosius and Ballister have in the movie.

To summarize, here are some of the main takeaways:

Ambrosius causing Ballister to lose his arm is completely unjustified in the book and happens due to Ambrosius’ wild ambition, while in the movie it is a debatably justified reflexive action in response to an active threat.

Ambrosius overall is portrayed as much more sympathetic in the movie, with the system itself being more to blame for what happened.

In the book, the main thing keeping them apart was Ambrosius’ refusal to take responsibility and admit what he did. In the movie, it’s a misunderstanding about Ballister seemingly turning evil.

In the book, Ambrosius and Ballister have a very established hero-villain dynamic with the joust having happened years ago. In the movie the “betrayal” is still very fresh, which leads to very different interactions between the two.

And that’s about it! Thank you for reading this very long post. And if you haven’t read the original graphic novel or watched the movie, go do that!!! Much love to ND Stevenson and the rest of the people who made this story come to life.

Let me know your thoughts in the tags or the replies! Which version do you prefer? Are there any other factors you feel have a significant role in why their relationship feels so different? Or do you think I’m totally wrong about this and they feel basically the same to you?

Either way, thanks again for reading and goodbye!

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #analysis #meta #ballister x ambrosius #ambrosius x ballister #nimona movie #nimona graphic novel #nimona analysis #ballister blackheart

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Imagine Being 141’s designated hacker Just a thought I had while writing late at night

Sure you would have liked to spend those few days at the safe house enjoying a bit of quiet time, simply concerned with keeping watch or keeping track of your supplies. But your latest mission had rewarded you with a more than interesting set of data that could definitely earn you a nice little line to add to your list of ‘wins’, as Soap liked to call them.

It was indeed unfortunate that this set of data was contained in an encrypted hard drive. Accessing such crucial intel as easily as plugging a flash drive into a computer? Where’s the fun in that, right…

Now in your misfortune, luck had smiled upon you as you possessed just the skills necessary to crack that hard drive open. Just a few lines of code and you would be able to hack into it and get it to tell you all its secrets. Right?

Three days it took you to finally come up with a program that resembles something that would work on this thing. Three days, and almost as many nights.

You are presently on your third night sitting at the double screen of your computer, curled up under a blanket, living off of your usual rations washed down with the least tasteful energy drinks you could find at the corner shop, just below the apartment that served as a safe-house for you and your team.

You need to crack this thing open and fast. Otherwise you might very well lose your mind, if that wasn’t the case already, that is… Luckily, you are about to start testing your program, and from what you can read in the multi-coloured letters and numbers displayed on the dark background of the interface, you are seconds away from completing your task.

“You need to get some sleep, Shells,” Ghost calls softly from behind you, nudging at your arm as he comes to stand beside you. You pull the blanket up over your shoulder and keep looking at your screen, typing the last few lines.

The room you’re in is pitch black, only lit by the light emanating from your screens, making you wonder why the ‘dark mode’ on coding softwares is so fucking bright. Ghost looks at you, waiting for a response. You can feel his judgmental eyes on you but you don’t pay him any mind.

All your other teammates have probably gone to sleep by now, you can tell how late it is by the number of empty cans on your desk. But you need to finish this before you get to bed tonight. Tonight is the night and you definitely won’t be able to find sleep unless your program works. You tried yesterday and the day before. All you got were three of four hours of restless slumber.

“I’m nearly done, I just need to-” you respond to your Lieutenant, finally pushing the ‘enter’ key and waiting for your on-screen feedback. ‘Could not run code. Error code: 00x567283’ “-fuck!” you blurt with frustration, still trying to keep your voice down as to not wake up your teammates sleeping in the adjacent bedrooms. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you mumble, rubbing the sleep off your eyes.

You hear Ghost chuckle from his spot beside you, his arms are crossed as he rests his weight on one leg. His right arm unfolds from the other slowly and he silently points to a line in your code. You were about to lose it and tell him to fuck off if he’s just gonna laugh at you but your attention is brought back onto your screen.

“Parenthesis,” he says simply.

You take a second to process everything. That line is missing a parenthesis, right where his finger is pointing. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath and blocking it before correcting the line and running the code again. ‘Encryption assessed, begin data extraction? <yes> no ;’

“How the fuck did you see that…?” you say in a long exhale. He remains silent for a moment and bends over to close the space between you.

“I’ve not been curled up like a fucking Gremlin at this computer all day and night, that’s how,” he says, his tone a bit too smug for your liking. “now - go - to - bed,” he finishes, turning your desk chair so you face him, now looking sideways at your screens with a pout.

“But it works now…” you say, looking back up at him, all curled up on your chair, wrapped in your blanket. He watches you for a second, cocking an eyebrow under his balaclava.

“Nah the puppy eyes don’t work if they’re all bloodshot, you look terrifying…” he simply says with a straight forwardness only he could manage. Your mouth opens wide, you’re offended.

You are about to protest when he grips your upper-arm, pulling you forcefully against him. Suddenly, you’re on your legs again, still trying to hold onto your blanket. His mouth is pressing against your ear through his mask.

“I want the Gremlin in my bed, right now,” he orders, his voice now taking an authoritative tone. Your mouth closes and you swallow the lump in your throat, trying to pay no mind to the centre of your body coming to life with all kinds of sensations.

“On it, Sir,” you say with a nod as he lets you go. You trot to the bedroom he’s staying in without looking back. Your heart beating fast inside your chest.

His eyes move back to the top of your desk. He looks at the cans littered all over the surface, crumbs filling the blank spaces between them.

“Fuck’s sake…” he mumbles under his breath before going after you, yelling at you as quietly as he can manage while making sure you’ll hear his command. “And take a shower first!”

#cod mw22 #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost call of duty #ghost cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod mwii imagine #simon riley imagine #call of duty imagine #cod mw2 fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley imagine

[penguinbuttcheeks]

Three's a Crowd - ghost x reader

summary: you’re the latest addition to the 141. price and gaz have each other, ghost and soap vice versa. you start to realise that you’ll never be able to gain the attention of your comrades - let alone your lieutenant - the way you so desperately crave.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

cw: angst, typical cod violence, character death, mw3 spoilers

word count: 2,318

A/N: feeling angsty so have this :D (FURTHER PROOFREADING IS NEEDED !!! but im eepy and impatient its 2am)

also i genuinely can't live without music, so i always end up adding a song that kinda reminds me of my fic. its not something that needs to be listened to - simply any song i find that kinda suits the vibe of the story and also just sharing some good music for others to enjoy !! idk, just something i enjoy doing (im rambling)

Being the latest addition to the TaskForce 141's ensemble had its downfalls.

While you were immensely grateful for the opportunity to have been recruited by John Price himself, there was still the lingering discomfort of trying to fit in with a new group.

It was childish really. Such a minuscule concern whilst in the midst of fighting a war.

It had been several months since you were enlisted, yet your relationship amongst the four members seemed to lag in comparison to the camaraderie they each shared between one another. Years of companionship amidst the terrors of combat had strengthened the bindings of their connections, forcing them to rely on one another when faced with life and death. It was something that you had yet to experience with them.

You know that these things take time - especially given that fact that it was so common to lose comrades in this field of work. Everyone was terrified of getting attached. 

Over the coming days, the five of you had been preparing for an upcoming mission. It was crucial that everything panned out perfectly. Price wasn't leaving any room for fault, not when the safety of thousands were at stake. thousands of civilian lives. Men, women and children.

While Price and Gaz - with the assistance of Farah - had set out to Urzikstan to lead an infiltration on a Konni base they believed Makarov was operating at, you were assigned to Verdansk with Soap and Ghost. 

The task; stop Konni from destroying the Gora dam.

The three of you were currently grouped at the meeting point, scoping the area before setting off to defuse the bombs scattered across the site. With the little numbers you had, you were going to have to rely on stealth. You hated stealth.

Stealth required trust. Trust in your comrades to complete their designated tasks without fault, trust in your comrades to stay alert. 

You had none. 

You were determined to change that succeeding this mission.

"Be advised, Konni personnel are grouping near multiple locations below you." Laswell's voice snaps you from your thoughts, her voice ringing through the comms. 

Ghost and Soap look up at where you were perched. You were their sniper for this mission. They were relying on you to keep them covered and you were not going to let them down.

You raise your hand in the air, giving them a thumbs up to alert you were ready and in position. The two men send a curt nod in return before setting off to track down and defuse the explosives.

With Laswell over-watching the operation, and you giving the duo support from a higher vantage point, the low numbers were of little concern. The four of you knew that you would be able to carry out the mission smoothly. Besides, 

Failure wasn't an option.

You watch as Ghost silently takes out several guards, advancing his way through the facility as he tries to locate the bombs.

"Bagged 'em" Laswell confirms another kill for Ghost.

“Two guards, on your three by the barrels” you alert Ghost, watching as he stealthily approaches the guards. “I’m lined up, I can get them in one”.

They’re on the ground before Ghost can even blink.

You grin as you peer through the scope of your sniper. This was going to be cake.

“Good to see you in one piece, Johnny” Ghost huffs, splayed on the floor of the heli alongside you and Soap.

“Haven’t felt better, LT.”

It was a scramble trying to meet with Nikolai and board the aircraft, lifting off amidst the enemy's gunfire. You ensured there were no men left standing by the time you all were long out of sight. 

Price would be pleased. 

“Yeah, I’m okay too. Thanks for asking” you huff out in annoyance, watching as Ghost lends Soap a hand, lifting him to his feet with a small grunt. 

You get up by yourself, a simple side glance sent your way from Ghost before both the men turn to Nikolai. At least Soap had the decency to return a relieved smile.

“Mission accomplished, Bravo. You three took down an army and saved lives tonight” Laswell congratulates through the comms, her usual monotonous voice doing little to praise the successful operation that the three of you had completed. “Makarov will not take this well.”

“He’s a big boy,” you respond with an amused grin. “He can handle it.”

“Don’t underestimate the rage of the Russian’s” Nikolai chuckles back in response, looking back at you momentarily to ensure all three of you weren’t seriously injured.

“Speakin’ from experience, Nikolai?” You smirk back, walking over towards the front of the heli where both Ghost and Soap stand, your sniper left discarded on the metal floor of the military carrier.

“Firsthand” Nikolai simply snorts back.

The rest of the ride back is silent, Ghost and Soap sat beside each other, a singular empty seat distancing their proximity. You? You sit across from them, alone on the empty bench. 

You don’t mean to let your guard down. You were simply exhausted and finally allowing yourself to stare aimlessly into space as the adrenaline in your system slowly drained from your veins.

“Don’t.”

The harsh voice has you crashing back to reality, eyes focusing in place to meet dark hazel ones, narrowed and directed at you. You hadn’t realised you were staring at Ghost while you silently decompressed. It was a rude startle from your meaningless thoughts.

“Sorry, I zoned out. My eyes were just comfortable” you respond awkwardly, adjusting your seating position and clearing your throat. “Didn’t realise I was staring”

Ghost simply glares back at you, his usual cold and emotionless stare making your hands clammy and stomach flutter. You quickly avert your gaze, turning your head away to stare at the metal tread plate flooring, instead focusing on the loud hum of the aircraft you were all seated in.

It suddenly grew too hot, too cramped in the helicopter. It was claustrophobic - suffocating almost.

You’re the first to scramble off the heli, exhaling in relief when you’re no longer boxed into the hunk of metal you had just spent the last hour travelling in. With your sniper draped loosely over your shoulder, you make your way inside the small safe house nestled on the outskirts of Verdansk. You don’t bother to wait for Soap and Ghost.

It’s late at night. Your body is near spent. Your only goal in mind was getting the heavy military gear off your body to finally allow yourself the comfort you crave. 

It’s a small shack, only the bare minimum provided. An old, tattered couch and rickety square dining table with four chairs on each side, each varying in design and wood finishes. They evidently didn’t come as a set. There is a small room off to the side, various camping cots packed and stacked against the furthest wall, at our disposal for when we choose to retire for the night.

Ghost, Soap and Nikolai soon enter after you, Nikolai retreating into the small room to set up the cots and get some much needed rest.

You keep to yourself while Soap settles on the small couch, Ghost taking a seat at the dining table to clean and check over his equipment. 

You hastily peel the stiff fabric from your body, vest and outerwear folded on the floor in the corner of the living room, your sniper. Resting atop of them. Your aching body can finally breathe now that the extra layers were finally discarded

“Ye did good today” Soap finally speaks up after a beat of tense silence. You turn to him in slight surprise, not expecting him to initiate any sort of conversation with you. “We’d have been fucked without ye” he continues, Scottish accent thick as ever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps on to your face.

“You guys did the dirty work. I simply scoped the area from above” you assure modestly, not wanting to come across arrogant.

“Aye. Saved our asses several times. We owe you.”

Ghost simply scoffs quietly, standing to move outside where there would be less chatter. He was tired and didn’t want to indulge. 

Your smile is wiped from your lips, replaced by a slight frown at Ghost’s exit. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the Scot.

“He’s a crabbit old man. Pay him no mind” Soap assures you, voice low and seemingly unaffected by the Lieutenant’s departure. “The lad’s not one for meaningless blether.”

You nod, evidently disappointed

Soap observes you silently, taking in your defeated expression, a low hum of acknowledgment absentmindedly leaving his tight lips.

"Ye like the Lieutenant" he voices aloud. There was no room for argument in his statement.

Your head darts to Soap in stunned horror, mouth parted in shock. You're unable to respond, Soap speaking up before you're able to form your words.

"Keen een."

You immediately shut your mouth. There was no point in arguing. He knew.

Soap chuckles, a bitter and amused sound that leaves you feeling uneasy.

"Foolhardy choice"

You watch as Soap leaves to the makeshift bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts and anxieties. You don't get much sleep that night.

Returning to the 141 base was a relief in itself.

Touching down on British soil allowed you to finally relax. You were finally familiar with your surroundings once again.

You sigh happily upon entering your private quarters, throwing your bag carelessly to the ground. A shower was in order. You waste no time in stripping down bare to prepare yourself for the best shower of your life.

When you emerge from the shower, hair still damp and leaving small patches of dampness along the fabric of your fresh shirt you immediately make your way to the rec room. Some caffeine was in order if you were going to set your sleep schedule back to its usual.

You inhale sharply when you see Ghost sat alone, immediately on edge.

He turns his attention to you momentarily before wordlessly resuming back to the reports in his hands.

Message received.

You quietly walk over to the coffee machine, pulling out a mug as you put the kettle on.

You keep your eyes trained on anything but Ghost, not wanting to anger him again. You can't help but lose yourself in your thoughts once again as you wait for the water to finish boiling.

It wasn't anything more than a physical attraction that you had towards the aloof man. You didn't know the slightest thing about him. You did know however, that he was loyal. Just from your observations alone - it was obvious just how passionate he was about the 141. He would lay his life down without a second thought to ensure a mission was successful, to ensure his teammates were safe.

All of his teammates, save for you.

He was a machine during training, a monster on the field. Rippling muscle and deadly speed, accuracy that rivals even Captain Price himself.

So many times you've caught yourself staring, admiring from the peripherals of your vision with your lip caught between your teeth. You felt like a lovesick teen in high school. It was absolutely infuriating.

"It won't make itself"

You jolt in alarm, head whipping towards the voice. Ghost simply stares at you, eyebrow raised. His skull mask was replaced by his usual black balaclava he wore around base, the prominent shape of his brow bones underneath the knit fabric the only giveaway of his expression. His thick thighs are spread lazily in front of him, large feet planted on the floor as he leans back against the dark leather couch, papers still in hand.

You quickly tear your eyes away from him once again.

"I know." You internally grimace at your response. Stupid. So stupid.

Ghost chuckles, still eyeing you as you stare dumbly down at the now finished boiling kettle and empty mug.

"You're an open book" he speaks up, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, lowering his eyes back down to his reports. "You need to keep your head in the game, sergeant. This is a war, not a dating reality."

You glimpse over at him from the corner of your eye, fighting down the heat that tries to spread across your face.

"I'm well aware of that" you respond sternly, hastily making your coffee.

Fucking. Soap.

"Start acting like it, soldier"

You swiftly leave, coffee rushed and head lowered in shame. You didn't bother drinking the sloppy coffee, instead tipping it down the bathroom sink and watching as it swirls down the drain.

Makarov was defeated - the 141 finally accomplishing what they had chased like hell hounds for months - finally at its end.

Ghost stares down at your lifeless eyes.

What should have been Soap’s life was instead replaced with your own.

It was a selfless act of bravery.

No one was fast enough to respond. One minute you were here, yelling out to Soap in alarm, the next you were motionless. An instant death after Makarov lodged his final bullet in your skull.

Ghost knows that he should feel something - anything for the life lost. His teammate stolen from life too soon, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Price places a large hand on Ghost's shoulder, pulling him away from the scene.

The Taskforce retreats. They would send reinforcements to retrieve your body, to be able to send something back to your loved ones waiting anxiously on your return.

It was a shame really. The potential you had was evident, destined to continue fighting for your country alongside Ghost, Price and Gaz.

Ghost turns on his heel, following after his comrades and boarding the heli, your empty seat bringing a deep sense of impending doom, the reality finally setting in for the four men.

Ghost scoffs, shaking his head.

Three was always a crowd

#cod modern warfare #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #mw3 spoilers #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soapghost #tf 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod 141 #captain john price #john price #captain price #kyle garrick #call of duty x reader

[faresong]

eve of the sun.

(spoiler) musings on my design choices below <3

✦ CLAIRE ELFORD —

Oh, my girl... I love her so much. I changed up her design slightly to draw in a gold tone due to my adjustment of her neck accessory: instead, it is part of a earring she was gifted by her grandmother that then broke. Though she doesn't remember why she had it, nor why it was only one of a set, she still holds a lot of sentimental value to it and couldn't bear to throw it out or sell its pieces, instead transforming it into a necklace.

I also gave her boots which, despite their look, are customized to better track up the mountain. These are her personal hiking boots! Additionally, since she lives up there, she has gotten into a few scuffles. While she's learned to hold herself well, there have been times she gets a bit overzealous—and the scar on her face is one of those cases. A nasty rock she was trying to remove had split her lip open and completely dragged down her shoulder before she could hit the floor and regain her standing. Nothing too dramatic, she'd say, but it reminds her to be careful... sometimes :P

Of course, because she's canonically the strongest of the group, I gave her more obvious muscles and fat to pad it out. As I've stated before with her living situation, eating is important to help her keep her strength up—and is also just something she enjoys! There are so many lovely recipes to try out, and before they died, she had loved bringing down ingredients of something new for her adoptive parents to try. They were all fresh, too, from her garden.

Here, despite the timeline regarding typical real-life immigration, I've portrayed her as mixed Indian/Portuguese. Her mother and grandmother were simply Indian immigrants, with Claire as the fourth-generation (Lady Dorothy had taught her Hindi, but with years without practice... she's lost much of it). Unfortunately for them, this was an additional motivator in the main town to persecute them sooner rather than later despite their people settling on the outskirts of Levine's ruling.

✦ SIRIUS GIBSON —

Onto Mr. "Bah!" now... As I've already mentioned, his moon earring is part of a set with Claire as a gift from Lady Dorothy. It was a gift in her hopes of bringing the two closer together.

Now, whether or not that worked out fully, Sirius feels he owes nearly everything to Lady Dorothy. Not only to provide him housing after his parents' demise, but tend to his leg injury wrought from when he'd been nearly crushed in the crowd. Everyone had pushed forward to see the alleged witches' deaths and hadn't cared when he'd fallen—Dorothy was there just in time to act as a barrier of sorts before they'd broken his ankle... but she still ended up crafting a small cane for his use.

As he grew up, however... the cane became more difficult to use. He was taller, and thus he began using Lady Dorothy'd old cane for himself. Whereas she had only needed it for balance, Sirius uses it to offset the pain/pressure on his left leg. Neither cane is pictured here, but it is still a crucial part of how his past pains continue to affect his present life—in a very literal way, albeit.

Due to how cold he tends to run within the mansion, he wears many layers. I've simplified his outfit to simply be: dress shirt, vest, pelerine. The last one is cut from the same cloth as Lady Dorothy's cloak (hence the slight star motif shared in both of their cloaks) and was initially a proper 'cloak' tailored for his younger self, though he still cannot let go of it.

I've added more prominent red to his design to tie in the ruby crest, as well as represent his resentment toward most others. In a literal sense, 'seeing red'—the reasons behind him becoming a demon clear. Unlike Claire who stands for nobility, Sirius cannot allow himself or Lady Dorothy that disgrace of leniency.

One last note: Sirius is portrayed as mixed Bengali/Portuguese. His great-grandparents had been one of the first Portuguese immigrants, with his grandfather brought over as a contracted engineer to figure out the water supply line for this area. He had never been given the chance to learn Bangla, as his mother didn't speak it... but Lady Dorothy had taken time to teach both Sirius and Claire Hindi, and he still reads some of the few books the Elfords had brought over. It's made him feel closer to the family, and he takes great care in trying to refine his language... even if it's difficult without another to practice with. (...I like to imagine, post-Sirius Conclusion, he teaches Claire again. It's only right.)

#I will get to the other three of the main cast... sometime soon <3 I had to get my favorites out of the way first #I hope you enjoy... #|| #witch's heart #whnoc #sirius gibson #claire elford #my art #wall

[hugmekenobi]

Wardrobe Change

A Bad Batch Series interlude oneshot

Image from the Popverse courtesy of Lucasfilm (my gif searches were being very uncooperative)

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Times change, uniforms change and this new design has its fair share of admirations.

Warnings: No use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart), Cid being Cid, I make up a timeline, affectionate possessiveness, fluff and feelings, Force communication working how I say it does, PDA in the form of making out and affectionate biting, spicy/suggestive dialogue, getting caught/interrupted, awkwardness

Masterlist for Season 1 chapters

Word Count: 4.7K

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: It’s the last of the oneshots before we get into S2! This was purely because I wanted to start S2 off with the armour changes being understood and so I didn’t have to describe them lol but I hope there’s more substance for y’all to enjoy! Big shout out to @hugmedin who helped me when I got hit with a bad bit of writer’s block and wrote a section of this, including my favourite line in this fic that had me freaking out when I read it, love you my guy!! 

“Okay! I have them! Ugh this is so heavy!”

You all turned your attention over to the loud thud and you smiled as you saw Lyra collapsed over the container she had previously been carrying. She’d only just managed to get it through the doorway. “You should’ve told us. We’d have helped you bring it over.” You said as you stood up and walked over to her.

“It’s part of the service.” Lyra panted as she stood up and smoothed down her top. “I think you guys will like what I’ve done.”

“Can you get that out the way? It’s blocking the entrance! We don’t have all day for this. I have my own business to run!” Cid said by way of greeting.

“You weren’t exaggerating.” Lyra muttered.

“Give it 6 months and you’ll be on mildly better terms.” You uttered back with grin.

“Oi! Either help her or get out of her way. It’s bad enough you’re using my place as your fitting rooms!” Cid barked over at you.

“Better terms?” Lyra said with a small laugh.

“I did say mildly.” You replied, grabbing the other side of the box, and lifting it over to where the rest of your squad had congregated in the corner.

“Are they finally ready?” Omega asked excitedly as she gave Tech the datapad back.

“Omega, we haven’t finished-”

“Come on, Tech! I can do it later!” Omega griped.

Tech sighed in defeat.

“A quick break won’t hurt Tech.” You appeased.

“Let me see!” Omega said.

“Okay kid, hang on.” Lyra said with a smile. She opened the box and began the process of handing the updated armour out. “I played around a bit with them.”

“How much?” Hunter and Echo asked warily as they took theirs from her.

“Don’t stress. It’ll all look perfect. I changed the colours and symbols as requested but I got rid of a couple things that weren’t really necessary. You guys have more civilian type clothing to wear underneath now, rather than just those blacks you’d handed over. And that means you don’t have to always change into these clothes you’re wearing now if you want to take your armour off. Oh, and your codpieces are gone.”

“You took away a whole section of our armour?” Tech asked sceptically as he took his.

“They were annoying me.” She replied simply. “And I don’t think you’re in a position to act like it’s a super crucial piece you’re missing. You don’t have any thigh armour. That wasn’t a change I made, that was all you.” She added pointedly.

Tech opened his mouth to protest but he couldn’t think of a rebuttal fast enough.

You chuckled as you watched Tech walk away, mumbling something under his breath about how it suits his needs just fine.

“Where’s mine?” Omega asked eagerly.

“Alright kid. Here you go.” Lyra passed the pile of clothes over to Omega who grabbed them keenly and dashed off to change.

“Did I see a hat?” You asked as you watched her turn the corner.

“It makes the outfit.” Lyra replied with a smile.

You laughed. “I won’t question your style.”

“Good. Cause now it’s your turn.”

“You only changed the colour, right?”

“In a way…”

“Lyra…”

“Calm down. It’s nothing crazy. I still kept the hood and mask element you like. I just started from scratch. The top you bought from me before isn’t really suitable for what you do. I didn’t realise you operated with no armour at all. If I gave you the original one back, it would only be a matter of time before you had rips in it. I’m surprised it was in one piece for so long.”

“Okay… so?”

“So, I got my hands on this new material that is generally just sturdier so that’ll help, and you have some armour of your own.”

“Armour?” You said sceptically as you watched her reach down.

“Not a lot.” She reassured you. “I figured you liked the freedom of movement, it’s just a couple of things. Here’s the top.”

You took it from her, and you could already tell that it was better quality. The black fabric was thick but when you put it over your head, it fit snugly but still allowed for flexible movement. The mask and hood were indeed still there and where your previous top had red lining on the outside, this one now had a turquoise. Your eyes also noted the small white half skull that seemed to have been another element that was carried over. “And this was an essential thing you needed to keep?” You said, pointing to the sign.

Lyra grinned. “You both like it and don’t try to deny it.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled with her. “This is perfect though, thanks!”

“I’m not done.” She handed over the additional pieces to your ensemble.

You took the small parts of armour she’d give you. They were black and decorated with a mix of white and turquoise stripes. You also realised they were like the ones Hunter wore on his forearms. She’d also added a pair of black gloves.

“This means you’re also getting rid of that horrendous thing keeping that vibroblade on your thigh.” Lyra ordered.

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” You said defensively, glancing down to your thigh where your vibroblade was encased. Sure, the strap was fraying, and it was no longer the same colour as it was when you had first got it and some of the leather was showing cracks, but it served its purpose just fine. Plus, it had been with you through a lot of highs and lows and although a mantra throughout your life had been ‘no attachments,’ you had found that both Hunter and this strap were exceptions to the rule and you were rather fond of it.

Lyra just gave you a sad look. “Look at it. It’s disgusting. Throw it in here and never think about it again.” She insisted, turning the box towards you.

You sighed and chucked your vibroblade on the table before you threw your old strap into the empty container. You attached the new pieces to your forearms before you sheathed your vibroblade into the one on your left arm. You then put the next pieces that ran from your shoulders to the end of your upper arm. You were annoyed to find that Lyra was right, and you didn’t feel restricted by having them there.

“And you told me yourself your blaster holster is a hand-me-down from Tech. Put that one away too.”

“You were just waiting for a chance to upgrade my stuff weren’t you?” You grumbled as you took your blaster out and removed your holster. It joined your old vibroblade strap.

“Oh yeah.” Lyra said with a smug smile.

You attached the new holster to your thigh and put your blaster in it. “Happy now?” You asked, gesturing up and down your body.  

“You look hot!” Lyra said as she circled you, studying how you looked with the new parts on.

“Shut up.” You laughed, slightly flustered.

“Your sergeant is a lucky guy. How’d your secret project got by the way?”

Before you could reply, a shout got both of your attention.

“We’re ready! I love it!”

You turned to the sound of Omega’s voice, and you grinned as you saw her delighted expression. It had been a while since Kamino and Omega had definitely grown so it was about time she had something that fit with that, and she did now. She had grey bottoms and a red top which was worn underneath a light blue layer, and she had red fabric wrapped around her right wrist. The hat was a cute touch as well. The rest of your squad also looked pretty good. It was odd though, seeing them in colours that weren’t the signature ones they used wear and any insignia illustrating them being Clone Force 99 being gone.

Lyra clapped her hands together. “I truly outdid myself! You guys look fabulous!”

“Yeah, you guys look great!” You added.

Wrecker and Omega beamed, whilst Tech and Echo merely gave small nods.

“You look great too!” Omega said as she walked over to you.

“Yeah, Hunter’s got colours like that too. You guys’ll look good!” Wrecker added.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Speaking of that, where is our fearless leader?” You asked.

“He wanted to rearrange the scarf.” Echo replied.

“Scarf?” You repeated, your throat going dry. You looked over to Lyra.

She shrugged. “I like accessories. Sue me.”

You turned your head over to the sound of Hunter coming back into the main area and it took everything in you not to stare at him for an abnormal amount of time. His armour, like the rest of theirs had maintained most of its original structure-minus the codpiece- and his colours were indeed similar to the ones you had. He had the more civilian looking clothes underneath with the rest of his armour donning a mix of black, white, and turquoise. He had the same bit of orange running down the centre of his chest plate like his brothers had and his helmet still had half of it painted white to match the skull tattoo on his face. The red wrappings around his wrists mirrored the one Omega had and the red scarf… well the scarf was definitely a nice added feature.

Hunter nearly did a double take as he saw you. You looked… well you looked powerful, capable. Not that you didn’t look like that already but there was something about seeing you with actual armour that accentuated that part of you. Plus, the fact he was wearing colours that matched with yours was an added bonus.

“Well, my work here is done!” Lyra said cheerily as she bent down to grab the now empty case.

Hunter tore his eyes away from you and nodded his thanks to her before he saw that you were still looking at him. “What?” He asked as he joined the others and grabbed a drink. He brought his cup to his lips.

“Nothing. Looks good.” You said casually, turning away to follow Lyra out. Just thinking of all the things a scarf can do that a bandana can’t.

The choked splutter that followed had you smirking to yourself as you walked out the door.

--

“You sure we don’t owe you anything for this?” You double checked as you both stood outside the entrance to Cid’s.

Lyra shook her head. “You guys helped me out when I was being harassed by Marco and his goons. We’re even now.”

“Yeah, but getting to beat up Marco and Co is fun.” You said lightly. “You don’t need to repay us for that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, it was actually kinda fun. I haven’t had a project like that to work on in a while. Just point people in my direction if they ask who did this fabulous work and we’re all good.”

You huffed out a laugh. “You got it. I’ll see you around, Lyra. Thank you.”

“Yeah, see you around!” She grabbed her stuff and walked away.

You fished the necklace out your pocket and studied the small symbol on the end of the black leather cord.  It wouldn’t be noticeable under his clothes and armour. You just hoped he would like it.

--

You and Hunter seemed to find any excuse to gravitate towards one another and touch each other, even if it was nothing more than a simple touch that lasted a matter of seconds. Yes, you’d started it with your comment about the scarf, but he really wasn’t helping with things. The air between the two of you had been charged ever since you’d walked back down those steps and now every touch sent warmth flooding through you, and you were sure it was the same for him. To the others, the hand wrapped around your shoulder seemed completely innocent since you were all engaged in casual conversations, but it sent a thrumming through your veins you couldn’t control. And, judging by the way he’d tensed up when you’d laid your hand on his thigh, you weren’t the only one. You all had shed your armour since Cid didn’t have a mission so that definitely wasn’t making things any easier for you.

It felt like a test. Who was going to be the one to give in first? You really didn’t want it to be you and you think you had a way to do that. As Wrecker and Omega got up to go play a game of Dejarik, with Tech and Echo going to watch, you turned to face him. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Hunter looked at you quizzically but nodded and followed you as you stood up.

You made your way to the exit.

“Where are you going?” Omega asked as she waited for Wrecker to make his move.

“We’ll be back.” You replied.

--

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked as you began to pace in front of him.

“Yes. I just- Look I’m- What I’m trying-.” You stopped with an aggravated huff. You’d rehearsed this countless times in your head, and it wasn’t a big deal, worst he could say was no.

“Sweetheart.” Hunter grabbed your wrist to get you to stop walking. “Take a breath, look at me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

Hunter tilted his head. “Why not? You usually don’t mind it. In fact, you tend to quite enjoy it.” He added with a smirk.

You shot him a playful glare and removed his hand which had worked its way to your waist. “Yes, exactly. You’re distracting me and I have a plan here. You’re not going to ruin it with your-” You didn’t finish your sentence, you just gestured to him.

Hunter held his hands up in mock surrender and leaned against the edge of the entry way.

You inhaled deeply and started pacing again. “I consider myself a pretty independent person, you know? Not one to be dependent on much, certainly not a man in my life. But then you come along, and suddenly I’m finding particular things I thought I would hate, quite, well, quite attractive. Take this for example.” You pointed to the half skull on your top. “I was convinced I would hate it, but I don’t. I don’t mind the message it sends.” You stopped and faced him. “However, I can’t just be what this suggests. You’re a part of me, the whole squad is, but I don’t want to be seen as someone whose only purpose is to belong to you.”

Hunter straightened up as he addressed you. “I know that. If I’ve given you reason to believe otherwise, I’m sorry. I’m sure Lyra could change it. I didn’t mean-”

“Hunter, I know.” You reassured him. “That’s not what I’m saying. I only mean I thought it would be nice if you maybe had something that- uh.” You broke off with an awkward cough before you continued, “Represented me.”  You brought the necklace out and handed it to him.

“Where’d you make that?” Hunter asked quietly as he studied the necklace which had attached to it a tiny metallic symbol. A symbol he’d seen many times during the Clone Wars. It was the symbol for the Jedi Order.

“Lyra gave me access to her stuff. Don’t worry, she didn’t know exactly what I was doing.” You added quickly as you saw the concern that flashed across his face. You looked down at the ground and scuffed the toe of your boot through the dirt. “Do you like it? I know it’s a bit risky but figured you could conceal it easily enough and I-” The strong hands on your waist that guided you backwards to the wall cut you off. You glanced up but before you could take your next breath, Hunter’s lips met yours and what little resistance you had left crumbled, but hey, technically he kissed you first, so you counted it as a win. You let him press his body tight to yours and you kissed him eagerly. You like it then?

Hunter didn’t answer directly. He just kissed along your jaw and nipped the skin by the spot behind your ear that he knew would elicit a moan from you and you didn’t disappoint. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He said, still out of breath and his voice even lower than what it usually was.

You released a sigh and your head fell back against the wall as he continued to leave marks on the skin of your neck. I have a pretty good idea.

“I’m serious.” He slid his hand on your cheek, so you were forced to look at him and he very nearly lost it. Your eyes were wide, and your breathing was still uneven, and he wanted nothing more than to continue but he needed to say this first. “From the minute you showed up on Devaron to help, I was enthralled by you. You took out a line of droids with nothing more than a slightly longer vibroblade on your back and acted like it was a regular day. Sure, later on we discovered there was a bit more reason behind that.”

You smiled slightly but your eyes dipped down as a wave of guilt washed over you at the memory of your dishonesty.

“Hey.” Hunter said softly as he saw your mind leave the current moment. He tucked his finger under your chin and angled your face back up. “That’s not why I brought it up. Don’t go back there. Stick with me here cause there’s a point to all this, I promise.”

You sighed and nodded.

Hunter breathed deeply. “You were incredible and there was no hesitation from me, or the others quite frankly, when it came to offering a place with us. I just underestimated the impact you were going to have on my life. It didn’t take long for my brothers to start giving me a hard time, but I was too stubborn to listen.”

Join the club.

He smiled at you before he continued. “Remember, when there was that stampede of Reeks and I got hurt. It was about two months after you’d joined us?” When he saw you nod, he carried on, “You remember how I got injured?”

“The last dregs of the Separatist droids sent a final charge our way. The blast meant I slipped and fell into the cavern where they were running. You came after me and pushed me out the way.” You said softly.

“Yeah, I did. I- I was in love with you then.”

“Well, then we were on very similar timelines.” You revealed with a smile.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “So, fast forward to now. You’re wearing something that ties you to me and I don’t think you realise exactly the effect that has on me. And then I come out to see I’m wearing the same the colours you are. And to top it off, you’re asking me to wear something that ties me to you? I can say with no hesitation that you’re a part of me too.” With that, he looped it over his neck.

You took a shaky breath as you watched him put it on and you understood why the half skull on your top had meant so much to him. “You think the colours thing only mattered to you? Why do you think I had to give it to you now?” You murmured. “You were killing me in there.”

Hunter nuzzled into your neck. “That why you dragged me out here? Couldn’t wait?” He muttered into your skin and began to place light kisses on your neck, altering what side had his attention.   

“That why you followed me out here?” You countered as you struggled to keep your composure. 

“I thought you wanted to talk.” Hunter replied, his eyes lifting to yours, an unspoken challenge behind them. 

“I-I did talk.” You maintained. 

“And now?”

“And now I’m done.” You grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him with fervour. And I’m counting this as a win. You broke first.  

Hunter chuckled and moved so his lips brushed against your jawline again as his hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck where it stopped for a moment before he continued, and his palm came to rest on the left side of your chest. Your heartbeat pounded beneath his fingertips.

You didn’t let him linger there too long. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you pulled him in even closer and bucked your hips forward into him in an attempt to banish the remaining space between the two of you. As you did so Hunter let out a moan into the crook of your neck and the resulting vibrations sent your mind to mush. Your hands frantically grabbed at his shirt, the fabric bunching in between your fingers as you tried to bring him even closer. You let out a frustrated moan, you felt like he was holding back, and you were losing patience. 

Hunter let out a soft chuckle and you could feel his smile against your skin, genuine and unfiltered. “Relax.”  he whispered into your ear. “I’m right here.” 

Your hands slid from his waist up the length of his back, his muscles rigid but warm against your palm. You nipped at his ear, your hips still bucking into him, and you’d never been more thankful that Lyra had gotten rid of the cod pieces, but it also meant you became more and more desperate.  

“I need you closer.” Your voice came out strained as you looked up at him and you made no attempt to disguise your desire as you continued to press yourself against him.   

“That can be arranged.” 

The lights in the alleyway were dim but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer form in his eyes, the kind that only appeared when the two of you were alone. Upon seeing that, all sensible thoughts about the risks of doing this in public left your head completely. 

Bending down ever so slightly he brought both his hands to the back of your thighs lifting you up against the wall in one swift movement. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you in position against the wall. Your fingers found themselves wrapped up in Hunter’s hair which you used to gently tug his face away from where he was placing deep kisses along your collarbone. He let out a deep sigh which caught in his throat and resembled something close to a growl. As you held his head there you allowed yourself a moment to admire the way his eyes had grown darker, and his chest and shoulders heaved as he caught his breath. His lips remained parted as he patiently waited for instructions from you. Removing your hand from his hair you brought it back to caress his tattooed cheek, this time allowing your thumb to softly trail his lower lip.

He drew you into a deep kiss, the kind that left your lips raw and your lungs begging for oxygen that you swore you could definitely live without - but eventually you had to give into your reflex and come up for air. 

Hunter broke away first, bringing his forehead to rest tenderly against yours. His hands reached under your top; his gloved hands caressed your skin. “You sure about doing this here? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once-”  

Yes. You nodded eagerly but before you were able to continue, a horrified shout got both of your attention. 

“Ugh are you kidding me! You two really couldn’t wait?! Ugh my eyes!” Wrecker complained as he instantly turned away from the scene in front of him.

Hunter quickly let you down and he was sure your mortified expression matched his and you both turned to face the backs of Wrecker and Echo. 

“Oh, uh, hey boys. What, eh, what brings you out here?” You winced out as you adjusted your top.

At the sound of your feet hitting the ground, Echo turned to face you both and gave a disapproving stare. “Omega is about to play Tech and wanted to see if any of you wanted the next round so, we came out to ask. She nearly left to ask herself, but I figured based on past experience-”

“Okay.” Hunter interrupted him before he went any further.

You can turn around, Wrecker.

Wrecker took you at your word. “What happened to talking?”

“I mean… we did talk. Just got a bit carried away.” Your eyes focused on fiddling with the end of your sleeve.

“I’ll say.” Wrecker griped. 

“That’s the third time this month. We’ve talked about this. It was bad enough when Tech interrupted you guys in the cockpit.” Echo chastised you both.

Hunter couldn’t find any words. He just kept his eyes on the ground. 

“Hey, you didn’t have to listen to the lecture he gave afterwards on the importance of hygiene and sanitation.” You grumbled. 

“You’ve been lucky it hasn’t been Omega yet.” Echo continued, paying little attention to your words.

You knew he was right. The two of you had been pretty reckless lately and the very fact Omega hadn’t been one of the unfortunates to witness said reckless moments is something you thanked the Force for. “I’m sorry, we’ll be better.”

“Yeah, sorry boys. It won’t happen again.” Hunter said firmly.

A few beats of uncomfortable silence passed.

“You guys aren’t coming back down any time soon, are you?” Echo asked reluctantly as he nodded to where both of your hands were.

The two of you hadn’t noticed the new places your hands had found themselves in. Your fingers were lightly tracing up and down Hunter’s arm whilst his had found itself around your waist again and his thumb rubbed up and down your side. Upon hearing Echo’s words, you both glanced at each other. Tell Omega I owe her a game. We’ll be back later tonight. You said in a way of reply, your brain slowly starting to block the presence of the other two out.

Echo sighed tiredly. “Just get out of here. Come on, Wrecker. We probably don’t want to linger here much longer.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Wrecker hastily turned on his heels and walked back down the steps to Cid’s, with Echo following close behind.

“Well… that could’ve been worse.” You mumbled into his shoulder after they left before you trailed a line of kisses along his neck, your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“I can’t say I can see how. That was- that was pretty awkward.” Hunter managed to stammer out.

“I could’ve been in a more compromising position.” You purred as your hand trailed down his chest and you made to kneel in front of him. You knew he was feeling more sensible, and you definitely knew it was better to head back to the Marauder but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun.

He swiftly tugged you back up and shook his head at you as he saw the cat-like grin on your face. “Careful, or I’ll have to continue this here anyway.” Hunter groaned as you slowly ground your hips against him.

“Promises, promises.” You whispered back, tugging his lip between your teeth and you took pleasure in the low moan that left him. Your hands kept a tangled grip in the scarf as you kissed him and tugged him to you.

Before he really did get too carried away, Hunter pulled away, but he still kept you tight to him. “I believe you had some thoughts for the use of this scarf? I got some ideas.” Hunter rasped.

“Hmm, I’m much more of a practical learner.” You hummed against his lips.

Stifling a groan, Hunter kissed you once more before he wrapped an arm around your waist and the two of you hustled away to the Marauder.

Masterlist

Tagging@ @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @a-streakofazure​, @ladytano420​, @dragonrider9905​, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf​, @yyourmotherr​, @xxeiraxx​ 

#the bad batch #hunter x reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #smut

[bestworstcase]

i do think the key to how things will fall out regarding death on remnant is the jabberwalker, bc like

the brothers created death by creating him

the god of light, fearing they had disrupted the balance, tried to get rid of him. the god of darkness refused to countenance this, and they fought about it.

they leave the ever after. jabber remains, implying one of three possibilities: 1. dark ‘won’ the argument and both brothers agreed to let jabber live, 2. dark recreated jabber one last time in secret before they left, or 3. jabber came back later a la modern humans. given light’s general inflexibility my inclination is 2 or 3.

in any case the tree seems to accept jabber as part of the ever after and the presence of his figurine on the blacksmith’s worktable implies that he will continue to exist in some form.

during the creation of remnant, the brothers agree that death will be permanent. their reasons are not yet fully clear, but light was the only one concerned about enforcing this rule; i think it is almost certainly a rule that originated with the god of light.

“but balance cannot be restored by force or calculation; true balance finds its own equilibrium”

force = destroying jabber. calculation = creating a new world with permadeath.

—

the god of light conceives of balance as a fragile order that must be meticulously maintained or else fall apart: his purpose, as he sees it, is to maintain order. everything he does comes from this. he cannot tolerate change because he lives in abject fear of ‘disrupting the balance’ again—as he believes they have already done once, by creating jabber.

so there is a certain narrative equivalency being drawn here between removing jabber and making death permanent for remnant. both decisions are predicated on a fundamental misunderstanding of what balance is.

thus the problem of death is not that it exists, per se. the problem is that death is the locus of light’s anxiety about change.

he first attempts to fix the ‘problem’ by getting rid of jabber, eliminating death. but he can’t, because dark won’t let him. so plan b is to leave the ever after and create a new world where death is part of the design—which isn’t contradictory at all if the intention is to prevent disruption of the existing order.

and something to keep in mind here is that 1. the cat and the jabberwalker were both deathless and unable to ascend, and 2. the brothers created death by mistake. for light these are crucial factors that must be accounted for in the new design. the only way to ensure that the disruptive introduction of death can never happen again is to include death from the start, transforming the accident into a deliberate choice.

which is all well and good except for one teeny, tiny wrinkle: for humans, death is not actually annihilative. they don’t simply cease to exist when they die.

i think it’s extremely likely that wasn’t supposed to happen. in a system where death is final and forever, spiritually immortal humans pose an obvious risk of disruption—and the ‘afterlife’ is evidently just permanent unconscious stasis, so it doesn’t seem like human souls were preserved for any purpose.

if your aim is to design an orderly system that can be maintained exactly as-is forever, and one of your core building blocks is that death is permanent, no exceptions, then why would you ever create beings capable of rising from the dead? you wouldn’t!

but once humans with immortal souls exist you’re sort of stuck with them, aren’t you? and i think that dilemma makes the most sense of why light’s afterlife is… like that. the souls of the dead ‘resting’ in everlasting oblivion in another realm that living humans cannot enter is the same in practice as annihilative death as long as every being capable of reaching the afterlife follows the stated rules.

the instant dark decides to make an exception, the whole system collapses. it reveals to salem that death isn’t inherently final or forever—that this is an arbitrary rule that the brothers decided, and one of them is open to the idea of changing those rules. then the gods make her immortal and light reprimands her for failing to understand how important his rules are (rules his brother just broke with no consequence except that light got mad), but ultimately what she learns is that the brothers are fallible and their rules can be changed. her rebellion is underpinned by this revelation.

the divine order suffers one small disruption and almost immediately, catastrophically fails, just as the god of light feared.

but that failure did not happen because of the disruption; the system failed because it was artificial. the brothers designed it a certain way and then light focused all of his efforts to keeping it that way, unchanging, forever—because their world wasn’t an ecosystem so much as it was a lawn in arizona. that lawn can only exist for as long as someone is doing the work to keep it on life support.

anyway the point i’m getting to is that remnant still isn’t in stable equilibrium, largely because of salem’s immortality and ozma’s reincarnations but also in the more general sense: the people of remnant are spiritually immortal but made to spend the vast majority of their existence essentially comatose because One God is afraid of change.

you can’t bring remnant into equilibrium by eliminating death: killing the jabberwalker isn’t the right answer. and you can’t restore balance by restoring the old system of divine rule and rigid adherence to the original design, because that system was a spindly papier-mâché machine that imploded the second somebody breathed on it wrong. and you can’t just yank the dead back to ameliorate your grief because that isn’t your choice to make, that’s an ethical position the narrative has made very clear.

which… really leaves changing the nature of the afterlife as the likeliest direction. death isn’t the problem, the afterlife of eternal stasis is. death isn’t the problem, light’s refusal to allow beings with immortal souls to keep going after their first life ends because the rules say death is final is the problem. because that finality is just… not reality. a person’s soul persists after death, ipso facto death isn’t the end.

but the reverse idea that death shouldn’t happen at all is not reality either. salem can’t die and her immortality is isolating and endlessly painful. ozma can’t stay dead and it’s eroded him down to a miserable shell of who he used to be. afterans choose to leave their memories behind when they ascend—nothing can happen to you in the tree except what you want to happen. without destruction, creation stagnates. death is part of life, not its enemy.

i doubt very much that the endgame here is for afteran ascension to be directly ported over into remnant—these are different worlds, different peoples, different systems, and while people from remnant can spiritually connect with the tree they are still fundamentally not part of it. afterans are emanations of the tree; humans and faunus are not. when afterans ascend they return to the roots of the tree and flow upward to blossom again from its crown, and that is, to put it mildly, not a system of reincarnation that physically makes sense for remnant, where things reproduce and have babies instead of new lives budding from the cosmic tree. if reincarnation brings equilibrium to remnant then it will presumably happen in a manner more natural to remnant’s people, and may not even involve passage through the tree at all.

it’s also not the only possibility: for example, there’s no reason that remnant’s afterlife has to be eternal sleep. it could just be… a new realm, a new world to live in after your life on remnant is ended. the brothers’ departure from the ever after into the boundless potential of the unknown is as likely a model as ascension. maybe remnant’s dead can’t return except by an act of god, but “gone from remnant forever” can coexist with the afterlife being… alive, as opposed to cold storage for inconveniently immortal souls.

basically the narrative setup isn’t toward rejecting death, it’s toward rejecting the state of affairs where you die and then millions of years later a god wakes you up and you have no awareness or memory of your existence since the moment of your death because you were kept unconscious until that god needed a servant. the point is that death isn’t the natural end of existence (because souls are immortal, on remnant as in the ever after) and remnant’s dead shouldn’t be held in stillness by light’s futile effort to make the facts of reality conform to his intended design.

the jabberwalker has existed for eons without bringing the ever after to ruin; the balance shifted, things changed a little, and life went on. remnant is existentially threatened by the factual reality of life-after-death only because light is so convinced of this danger that he is determined to prohibit it by any means necessary, including “demolish everything and start over from scratch.”

even a god can tilt at windmills.

#it’s also just darkly hilarious in a way #afterans are eternal #the cat was immortal #jabber was immortal and light TRIED and FAILED to unmake him #the b r o t h e r s a r e e t e r n a l #they make a world where death is supposed to be The End #and then fill it with beings #MADE OF THEMSELVES! #MADE WITH THEIR OWN NATURE! #light rattling the cosmic blueprints #what do you mean humans are eternal #WE AGREED THAT THINGS SHOULD DIE #THIS IS A DISASTER #dark like you SAID you wanted to make them like US #sorry for listening to you bro it won’t happen again #by the way i gave them magic instead of eradicating the grimm like you asked #they’re exploding beowolves with fireballs now it’s awesome #light like WHY ARE YOU THIS WAY #it’s hysterical. the divine blorbos

[samtheacesheep]

MML Sci-Fi Au

Milo:

Milo in a space suit:

Melissa (she and Milo are waving at each other):

(her arms can retract into her body) 

Lore: 

In the far, far future, eight planets orbit a sun. While none of these planets are capable of sustaining life, people live in “bubble cities” on the surfaces of the planets, and on space stations orbiting around them. Their advanced technology allows them to survive- and among that advanced technology is robots. Robots to clean their homes. Robots to serve them food. Robots to work in factories. Robots to drive their ships. 

Robots to protect them. Robots to kill for them. The Murphys live on a small, red planet called Rusoma, in the bubble city of Danville. Their unusual genetic condition- officially Extreme Hereditary Murphy’s Law, and more colloquially simply Murphy’s Law- can make life dangerous, especially in an environment where the lives of millions rely on technology. Despite this, they handle their condition well and prosper- but everyone can use some help. When Milo Murphy turned six, his parents decided to buy a MEL robot- a Mechanical Escort Life-Preserver. The perfect babysitter and companion for their young son, the MEL robot can help him survive in all manner of disasters, big and small. She is even built to be child friendly. So they weren’t surprised when Milo immediately became attached to her, calling her his best friend and treating her like that. 

What did surprise them was the MEL robot- nicknamed Melissa by Milo- developing sentience. A few years later, Milo is thirteen. Melissa is his best friend, and treated as part of the family by the Murphys. But one day, disaster strikes. The family are called to the police office in the middle of the night, to discover that Melissa killed someone. Having left the house in the middle of the night, she malfunctioned and fatally attacked someone. At least, that’s the story. 

Melissa insists that she didn’t do it, and Milo believes her. But she was found, shut off and covered in blood, next to the body. Her camera malfunctioned, leaving no footage in the time before and during the incident, and, crucially, her memory storage malfunctioned. She has no idea what happened, with a dark spot between entering the park and waking up at the police station. 

Of course, a robot can’t be charged with a crime, as they aren’t supposed to be sentient. But everyone thinks that Melissa malfunctioned. And a robot that malfunctions and attacks innocents is dangerous. So the authorities decide to deactivate her. Milo is horrified, and when he can’t prove her innocence to save her he does the next best thing- he steals her back and flees the planet, becoming a fugitive to keep her safe. But being a fugitive causes its own problems, and they will never be able to go home until they can find the truth. Because if Melissa didn’t kill that person, who did?

——— 

the sci fi au!!! I finally settled on designs for Milo and Melissa, and wrote up the lore post. So here you go! So Melissa is smaller than a 13 year old, but taller than a 6 year old. And yes, she does complain about Milo growing taller than her. Regularly.  She doesn’t need a space suit to survive outside of cities/ships/shuttles/space stations ect, but she has a lil suit anyway because Milo 

She is very, very protective of Milo. But at the same time, Milo is protective of her. They’re really close. 

Aside from Milo and Melissa, I have stuff for some other characters. Obviously Zack is the one I thought about most after the two of them- Zack is also a robot. I haven’t come up with a name, but I want it to have an acronym like ZAC or ZAK. I’ll workshop that. But basically, he’s one of the ‘killer robots’ that were the whole point of the original concept for this au- he has been built and programmed as a protector for exploring hostile planets outwith the solar system. In practise, Zack is considered a defect. He developed sentience, and was unable to convincingly act like a ruthless, unfeeling robot. So he was literally thrown out, and Milo and Melissa find him in a rubbish dump while searching for scrap. They adopt him, and his arc is about learning that even if he can’t do what he is made for, he isn’t worthless. 

Also his design, which i haven’t perfected yet, is based off of Warhammer 40k Kastelan robots, if you wanna get a feel for what he’ll look like. I love Kastelan robots, they look so fun and chunky. Cavendish works for the Solar Government. Dakota is a robot, and his bodyguard. Dakota is a “defect” like Melissa and Zack, but hides it well because he wants to stay with Cav to protect him. Cavendish is assigned to capture Milo and Melissa, hijinx ensue. I’m not sure what direction I’d want the story to go in, but I’m leaning towards a murder mystery- but a murder mystery in space. The main plot being focused on Milo and Melissa figuring out who really did that murder, so they can go home. Obviously a lot of stuff isn’t finalised, but I hope you like what I’ve got so far!

@cantdanceflynn​ I know you’re a robot fan :)

#mml #milo murphy’s law #milo muphy #melissa chase #zack underwood #vinnie dakota #balthazar cavendish #I drew a thing #mml sci-fi au

[gruusha]

—————- 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐨'𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝.

there are some still, serene mornings on glaseado when one will swear they hear quiet singing -- a song purely of vocalization, no words -- carried on the wind that casts snow upon the mountain. it's a tune that seems to change dependent upon those who hear: some will swear the song is one of joy & excitement, while there are others whose hearts ached for the lament they heard carry betwixt mountain peaks. it is the song of articuno, a legendary bird whose life is a solitary one: it flies, ever alone, from one icy mountain of the world to another upon the frigid winds it can set upon the earth with one deliberate beat of its wings.

-- it is far too kind to do such a thing.

it is rumored throughout the world ( legend born of claimed-personal accounts ) that articuno's heart is a benevolent one behind its frigid aura; that it has appeared before those who would otherwise die, lost on snowy mountains, and guides them to safety. all tellings & retellings of claimed sightings follow this pattern, thus it is safe to assume the pokemon is genuinely a virtuous (德) & merciful (仁) existence, so graceful as to rarely - if ever - be seen for a time long enough for one to be certain they've witnessed a legend with their very eyes.

throughout generations seeing & continuing to believe in articuno's legendary existence, it became known as a symbol of good fortune, propriety (禮), and credibility (信).

grusha perceives his duty (義) as gym leader to extend into assuring the survival of individuals who venture onto the mountain at any point, be they residents of montenevera, potential challengers, or simply sight-seers. having grown up in a perpetually snowy (read: legitimately dangerous) area, grusha knows full well that consistent monitoring of the surroundings can literally be the difference between life and death.

as the gym leader of an area equally snowy & dangerous to where they grew up (grusha would imply it's even moreso), making sure nobody dies on their mountain falls on the list of responsibilities they embrace. upon their hiring as a paldean gym leader, not once did anyone higher-up in the league directly state or otherwise indicate grusha had to do this personally. although gym leaders within the paldean league are responsible to maintain their designated area, whatever it entails, it is equally not mandated how they choose to do that.

in grusha's case, the first-hand experience with growing up & living in snowpoint and the surrounding treacherous routes served as crucial foundation for understanding how they wanted to handle this responsibility. they do not rely on local authorities or rangers, instead allowing altaria & multiple swablu to free-fly 24/7. the swablu communicate anything unusual they see to grusha's altaria, and from there grusha is able to interpret the relay by understanding altaria's body language and vocalizations.

having worked with altaria for years at this point, they're quite adept at interpreting her meaning.

THAT IS TO SAY: grusha's actions have not gone unnoticed. in fact, they were first seen rescuing someone from hypothermia (relying not only on their own experience but their pokemon) about four months after they accepted their station on glaseado by articuno itself. in light of witnessing such a kindness, articuno began to more frequently visit glaseado. as such, the icy fenghuang has watched grusha help people... over and over... for four years. in witnessing grusha's actions, identical to ones it would take itself, articuno became satisfied that the rescue was not merely a one-off instance, or some fluke of goodwill in the gym leader.

furthermore, articuno was able to sense a kindred spirit within grusha: both masculine (yang, feng) & feminine (yin, huang) aspects residing in a singular, physical form.

as a reward for their kindness & soulful connection, articuno imparted a shred of its power into grusha without his knowing [ APPROX. 1YR BEFORE scar/vio START ]. the blessing manifests physically in a clump of hair that grows rapidly from their head, and grows blue. if that weren't enough, the clump shimmers as well, and all the strands of hair that compose it behave as if inclined to stick together. although the strands can be parted, they will gravitate back toward one another within an hour. finally, the texture is also more supple than grusha's natural hair.

obviously, its appearance & continued existence perplex grusha: he has no idea what it is, why it exists, and especially how. he's tried cutting it / plucking it / dyeing it... it is, inexplicably: resistant to being cut / grows back far too quickly for plucking all afflicted strands to be worth the effort / repellent to dyes like oil to water. as far as grusha can tell, the hair(s) are definitely not normal, but also do not seem to harm him... as such, he has accepted its presence & often pulls it into a bun with the rest of his hair, though it seems to slip out of it far more readily than the average strands.

thankfully nobody seems to have noticed, as the color of blue (luckily) correlates with the darker dyes grusha has already maintained as part of his image for years. if one were to notice its shimmer, however, grusha would have no explanation.

#one thought crystallizes. ( meta )

[leam1983]

So, you wanna play the Wizard Game...

Let's start with a point of comparison.

When I was a kid, in the halcyon age of the Nineties, Earthworm Jim 1 and 2 were my jam on the SNES. I loved the associated cartoon, and basically owed my exposure to absurdist humor to concepts like the Great Cosmic Worm or the launching of cows into the stratosphere using a crude fulcrum. To me, EWJ was zany, lively, more than content to wag its Vaudevillan villains around for non-crucial bits of mundane evilness that went as far as being rude to the postman - and mostly innocent.

Then, time passed, I grew up, and came to learn of Doug TenNapel, the creator of the IP - and of his views.

Doug TenNapel is a Conservative who mealy-mouths his way around bigotry and antisemitism, more or less the type to Tommy Tallarico his way out of a situation by waving the "Lookit, I'm zany!" card as if we were still effectively in 1995. He tried for a comeback with a Webcomic entitled Ratfist, back in 2010, but his views more or less blew up in his face. Ratfist was unceremoniously concluded and TenNapel effectively faded from public consciousness.

I spent a few weeks wondering how I felt about this. I still had some fondness for EWJ and for ancillary projects that bore a bit of that TenNapel touch (like Shiny Entertainment's MDK), and it took me a while to remember that no, some literary analysis devices that I've been taught to use in the field are not, in fact, a form of tacit approval of the author's views.

Fast-forward to today, and I'm seeing a world where you cannot extricate a work from its author, where someone having a stroke of genius one particular decade ago and then turning into a raging shithole several years later apparently disqualifies everything they've put up in the past from any sort of consideration.

Now, my girlfriend had a sideline in Art History. Whenever she's confronted with Purity Culture as a concept, she remembers Caravaggio's works. The guy is a giant in the field of later Renaissance art, both for his talent and for his personality.

You see, Caravaggio fucked. He was a serial philanderer, he got into fights over women, cultivated a long list of lovers both male and female - and of open convictions. He also recruited a prostitute off the street and hired her to pose for him - as the Virgin Mary. Imagine picking a lady-of-the-road right across from the church that's just commissioned you, and recognizing that with the right light and medium, her face had those exactingly precise characteristics the elite looked for in their depictions of religious figures. For his time, he was as controversial as you could imagine. By today's standards, he'd probably have a massive following on Tumblr, if he were both alive and had a blog of his own. I don't think it'd be much of a stretch to imagine him as an ally, actually.

Despite that, no Art History student will ever look at his works in the context of who Caravaggio was. They'll look at his works in the context of when and where they were made. There's a massive difference there. In my own studies, I've done the same for everyone between Zola to Steinbeck, and I've definitely given Joanne Katherine Rowling's flagship series more of a critical eye.

Just - not in the way I'd assume most people would appreciate, these days. The Potterverse, if you will, is one that's effectively designed to be formative for younger readers, and one that quite visibly predates the author's drift towards reactionary politics. You can spot weak shades of it in some places, like Dumbledore's tokenistic referral as a gay man, but the series actually strives for inclusiveness. As to why trans characters never came into play, I'd chalk it up to ignorance and lack of comfort. I'm only a cis and bi man, and it took me years of study and careful attention to work past my own fears and workshop a trans character that wouldn't be - hopefully - much of an offense to anyone. Rowling herself simply never had that chance, or never took it once it was offered.

Obviously, she won't take it now even if it's offered. Her later works are disturbingly facile, in the sense that most skilled authors tend to use their external voice to provide mere observations and not to unsubtly pass judgement - an aspect in which she now repeatedly fails. Her posture can still be extricated from what she's written under the name of Robert Galbraith, but it has the relative finesse of a Ben Shapiro wish-fulfillment fantasy. Considering, I find it quite easy to draw a line between the Potter Era and the Post-Potter Era. There's a bitterness at play in her later works that just isn't present in what actually serves as her juvenilia, effectively.

There's a young and hopeful JKR drawing sketches in a café, and then there's the frustrated and bitter woman pulling increasingly desperate pleas for relevance. The lines couldn't possibly be any clearer.

So - let's assume you've effectively killed Rowling in the sense used by Narratology theorists and removed her from any consideration in her works. Can you play Hogwarts Legacy knowing that a small, if not insignificant portion of its royalties are going to go to Rowling's pockets?

Yes. How, you might ask?

Pirate it. If the Wizarding World still matters to you, pirate the fuck out of this one. Rip her books and upload raw PDFs to your Kindle. Considering the game's dev history, I'm sure plenty of employees in Avalanche itself would give you their blessing.

The Death of the Author absolutely does apply - especially in a situation where means exist to obtain the media involved at no cost whatsoever beyond your own bandwidth.

#hogwarts legacy #on buying the game #on not buying the game #on support vs piracy #pirate this thing kiddos

[purplekoop]

A simple service bot hoping to keep the streets clean of dirt, debris, and hordes of bot-eating plants, Otto drives in to duty!

Otto is a humble janitorial bot, a model designed to clean human city streets, who fulfills the same role in the new world. He takes pride in keeping his city's streets clean, but has had to face more messes than just mud stains while on the job. Local organized crime doesn't take kindly to a nosy cleaner getting into their dirty deeds, but Otto has learned to take the fight back to them, using both his cleaning equipment and a simple firearm he's picked up along the way to clean up the streets in more ways than one. Despite the rough job, Otto is as amicable as a bot can be, eager to strike a conversation with whoever whenever, even if it's a goon shooting at him. However, with an even bigger mess popping up farther down in the south from his home streets, Otto is eager to take on a new line of work using his unique talents.

In terms of gameplay, Otto is a heavy-duty Utility bot, having the highest and health biggest body of any non-Tank on the roster by a decent margin. This is to fit his role as the cast's semi-tank, who excels when fighting alongside a proper tank who can maintain the frontline while he covers their blind spots. While not as bulky as a proper tank, his freeform mobility lets him pick and choose his fights more than they can, which in tandem with his defensive abilities can make him a more fearsome fighter than his merely modest damage output would suggest. He's one of the more matchup-dependent members of the cast, with some enemy abilities he's uniquely equipped to counter while other abilities can counter his own.

Otto's defining ability is his Power Vac, an arm-mounted high-power sanitation device juiced up to be able to suck in most enemy attacks! The vac heats up quickly though, to the point of being unusable after only a few seconds of constant use, requiring Otto to carefully manage its downtime. This flexible defensive ability though is crucial for denying high bursts of damage, or baiting key abilities. The vacuum stream can't absorb all attacks however, as non-projectile attacks such as melee hits or beam-like weapons will bypass it completely.

Absorbing damage with the Power Vac however has a byproduct: filling up Otto's Junk Gauge. When the gauge is full, pressing the Accessory Ability input will allow Otto to fire off a Junk Bomb, a delayed high-power explosion made of all the random dirt and scrap he absorbed to fill the gauge. This explosion is strong enough to bring most bots to the brink of death at point-blank range, but its large radius makes it a threat even if enemies manage to dodge its full power.

Otto can also swap his vacuum arm for his melee weapon, the Power Mop. This rotating electrical mop rapidly does damage to enemies on contact, but can also clean allies of most debuffs by holding the mop to them for about a second. Cleaning debuffs fills the Junk Gauge, so it's worth giving your pals a touch-up if you have the chance.

When the job gets messy though, that's where Otto busts out the heat with his Auto-Shotgun. This rapid-fire firearm simply fires a spray of bullets in a fixed alternating pattern, making it deal solid damage at close range but becoming weaker at longer ranges. The weapon has 12 ammo and reloads its whole clip at once, making it an adequately consistent weapon but not especially imposing overall. It does however make a fearsome partner to the Power Vac, as it tends to either out-damage or out-range the few weapon types that the vac can't absorb. Otto isn't an efficient assassin by any means, but with skilled play his simple shotgun can clean up nicely.

But to get the job done fast, Otto has to get to the job fast, and that's where his last key ability comes in: Street Mode. Shifting his legs into a set of wheels and tucking in his arms, Otto enters a vehicle mode that increases his basic movement speed significantly. This mode has no cooldown, but he can't fire his gun or launch a Junk Bomb while transformed. Attempting to use Power Vac while in this form will instead use Street Sweep, a niche utility option that allows Otto to clean specific grounded hazards, such as the oil slicks created by some of Martinet's alternate equipment, which will contribute to the Junk Gauge just like sucking in a projectile would. While cleaning though, Otto moves slower than his basic walking speed, and will overheat the same engine as his power vac, but at a much slower rate. The main appeal of Street Mode though is to use it to traverse the map more efficiently, getting in and out of fights faster so you can provide your team the utility you provide.

For specialized messes, Otto has a few alternate tools for the job. Starting with his alternate firearms, first is the Back-Alley Broom, a shady fully automatic weapon that fires a few pellets in rapid fire, trading out burst damage for sustained fire. On the other end is the Street Slugger, a meatier shotgun that fires heavy-duty slugs, which are single projectiles that bypass damage resistance effects.

Street Mode also has a couple modifications which vary the functionality of its extra utility. The Razor Rider trades the street sweeping fans for razor blades that rapidly damage nearby enemies, and build up the junk gauge by doing so, but heats up faster and at the cost of the basic movement being reduced. The Nitro Sweeper meanwhile gives you the option to instead use the Junk Gauge as a fuel source, giving you massive bursts of forward speed when used.

Finally, the Power Vac has several unique variations, all of which additionally change the Junk Gauge's function. First is the Lawn Guster, an inverted tool that blows projectiles away with dramatic bursts of air rather than sucking them in, filling the gauge by dealing damage with the reflected projectiles, allowing you to fire a piercing Junk Missile that does bonus damage to buildings and barricades. The sneaky Pocket Cleaner is a nuisance and a utility at the same time, capable of draining enemy ammo by aiming the vac's stream at them to fill both your own ammo and the junk gauge, which can be used to fire a Recyclo Bomb that restores a heavy chunk of health and ammo to allies in its blast. Finally is the Ultra Vac, a vacuum so formidable its very suction pulls in and damages enemies gradually, which can be overclocked with a full Junk Gauge to increase the size and power of its area of effect.

On the behind-the-scenes side of things, I knew I had to have some kind of bot with a vehicle mode mechanic just about from the start, but Otto went through a few more generic iterations before I settled on the one-two combo of a vacuum cleaner and shotgun. He was originally a much more generic tank character with a simple barrier that changed shape between modes, but he felt "too Overwatch" without much of an identity. I then realized the potential value of an off-tank style character for the Utility role rather than an outright tank, inspired by how Pyro fills that sort of niche in TF2. The key thing then was to have a more "small scale" defensive ability, and while obviously in terms of mechanics the vacuum is functionally fairly identical to D.va's Defense Matrix, the overall idea was more inspired by the Ink Vac from Splatoon 3, including the additional purpose of absorbing attacks being to charge up a powerful explosion. Some other mechanics of the Ink Vac, like its ability to absorb ink directly from players or its status as an ultimate-scale ability, were worked into the alternate variants, while the Lawn Guster is straight up just Pyro's Airblast but with a different ammo system. Eventually this became the core of the character while the vehicle gimmick was kind of left as an afterthought, so it may be something I go back to. I do like the whole street sweeping ability, even if more for flavor than function. I can't imagine there's going to be too many "grounded hazard" abilities in the game, and I don't know if having such a specific hard counter to them is necessarily an exciting interaction, but it's cute so I'm sticking to it for now. The specific nature of the vehicle mode was specifically inspired by Gamma and their super fun "running" animation in Adventure and Battle, and the idea of a character who fluidly went back and forth between shooting and rolling as mutually exclusive actions is a fun visual I've wanted to stick with for a while. If it wasn't obvious, that inspiration seeped into the final design, along with hints of Omega sneaking in too. Still not sure how exactly the transformation works, that's always a tricky thing to design for with just a first draft, but I may sketch out a basic breakdown sooner than later. The shotgun was mostly due to the lack of a basic shotgun user in the cast otherwise, but also was based on a unique gun my more firearm-inclined friend brought up in passing that's, get this: a shotgun often called "the Street Sweeper". It all clicked from there, plus informed this being a more grounded, urban sort of character. I also just like the idea of this big bot with a mundane job being one of the friendliest characters in the cast, he's just happy to be helpful and appreciates the simple things. He's very much a personality I think would be fun to see clash with some of the others.

But yeah, it's Otto at long last! The first cast of 15 is finally shown off, even if out of order. In my head he's more of a foundational member of the cast than his proper reveal timing would imply, compared to Nekross who's a much more experimental character and not as essential in terms of the overall "ecosystem" of the cast. In a version of the game with only 15 characters, Otto's getting in first.

But past those first 15, next up is a much more organic-themed character to clash with the urban Otto. Gotta get some bees to suck up somehow.

#koop's oc stuff #war bots #otto war bots

[bytesmith]

The hair on the backs of Pellaeon's hands rose slightly as they entered the cell; the drop in temperature was noticeable. Not extreme, to a human it barely registered as mild discomfort. To a member of a species that couldn't produce its own body-heat it would be debilitating.

It wasn't an unreasonable precaution. For all their demureness and their slight, almost fragile-seeming build, the Chassa had never quite left their predatory roots behind them - and they were patient. You never quite knew with a Chassa. They might act content to serve the Empire for weeks, months sometimes, only to turn without warning and sink their fangs into the highest-ranking officer in the room. Chassa always killed for maximal damage to their enemy, just like they always went for the throat.

And indeed the prisoner's eyes focused on the Grand Admiral the moment he came into view and kept following him like a turbolaser's targeting system. Pellaeon found himself irrationally wondering how long it would take for the body-heat of three men to raise the room's temperature by those crucial few degrees.

Clearly Governor Nochras had no similar compunctions. But then, if there were any actual physical danger he probably would have held his little presentation via a holofeed.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," he announced with a pleasure veering on smugness, "may I introduce Lady Itturka, daughter and designated successor to clan-leader Ittursh."

"My lady," said Thrawn, inclining his head with no hint of irony.

The Chassa of whose name Itturka was the mangled approximation manageable to a human throat perched on the cell's bench, her back as straight as any Imperial officer's, her crouch reminiscent of the carnivorous lizards she was descended from. She too inclined her head with glacial slowness.

"Forgive me for... not rising," she managed through half-closed lips, her speech slurred and sluggish from the cold, her eyes baleful.

"I regret the circumstances of this meeting," Thrawn replied mildly, ignoring the sally. Then he turned to Nochras. "The daughter of Ittursh", he repeated slowly, a speculative tone to the first word.

"Exactly so, Admiral", the man replied, picking up on the emphasis but mistaking its meaning. "Her only heir. Chassa aren't sentimental but they care a great deal about bloodlines. Now Ittursh's bloodline is the Empire's to cut and she knows it."

Pellaeon briefly glanced at the prisoner - the hostage - whose head had risen back to its original haughty tilt. Her alien face remained as unreadable as Thrawn's.

"You were appointed Chass-Rasshka's regional governor five standard-months ago," the admiral said.

"Yes, Sir. Right after the reconquest."

Reconquest was a rather grandiose term, Pellaeon thought dourly. Chass-Rasshka was too deep inside the Empire's remaining territory to have ever been taken by the self-styled New Republic in anything but declaration. However by the same token it had been too far on the fringes of the Empire's original territory to merit much of a permanent occupational force. In the chaos following the Emperor's death, when reprisals were no longer just a hyperspace-jump away and administrators could no longer be easily replaced, the Empire's hold on the planet had simply slipped until governing the planet in anything but declaration had become impossible as well. What Nochras so confidently called a reconquest had been the simple act of putting some boots on the ground, which was a far cry from actually controlling the Chassa.

"And since then you have made... progress with pacifying the populace?" Thrawn inquired in a tone of polite interest, giving voice to Pellaeon's own misgivings.

"They gave us some trouble in the beginning. Sabotage, isolated attacks on our people, the usual. But things are under control now," Nochras added with a jerk of his head towards Itturka.

"One of your first acts here was to halt the reconstruction of a certain building that had been undertaken in the interim and to have the restored parts destroyed again."

The governor blinked at the seeming non-sequitur. "I- yes, Sir. What they call a palace, or fortress, of the bloodline. A previous governor had the original demolished as a punitive measure. Letting them rebuild without expressed permission would have set a bad precedent."

"No doubt. Did you look at it first?"

"Not... not as such, no..."

Thrawn nodded and then addressed Itturka again.

"I had the privilege of seeing holographic copies of the reliefs in the original palace of your bloodline.”

"Not a privilege we would have granted," she replied. This time Pellaeon could see the flash of pale needle-like fangs as she spoke.

When her lips closed again his gaze briefly moved along the line of her jaw, to the delicate pattern of green and bronze scales that ran down the sides of her neck and disappeared beneath the collar of a plain prisoner's tunic.

While Pellaeon would readily admit to a complete lack of understanding when it came to art - especially alien art - even he had been impressed with the precision and attention to detail with which Chassa artists had set similarly complex patterns into mosaics on the walls of the now destroyed palace of Itturka's bloodline. Every pattern was unique, Thrawn had told him, and every one of the many-armed figures making up dozens of tableaus was patterned with a perfect likeness of the intricate swirls and stripes on the depicted Chassa's hide. Staring at the holographs in Thrawn's inner sanctum on his flagship, Pealleon had found it hard to credit but believe him he did. He'd quickly learned to never doubt the Grand Admiral on matters of strategy and art.

"I would have liked to see the art in the reconstructed palace as well," Thrawn continued mildly. "Even unfinished it must have been something to behold."

"Not a privilege we would have granted, either," replied Itturka. Pellaeon couldn't be sure but he thought there was bitterness in her voice when she added, "If given the choice."

Nochras, having grown slightly less sure of himself during the brief exchange, cleared his throat.

"Forgive me, Grand Admiral, if I had known you had an interest in- I mean, I didn't think to-"

"Governor Nochras, I can hardly fault you for failing to anticipate my personal interest in Chassa artwork."

He paused.

"Of course it would have been beneficial to have an image of Lady Itturka. Unless you already have the relevant information that would give us."

Pellaeon watched her face for a reaction but she didn't move a muscle. Here was drawback to keeping a prisoner near cold-rigor - it stilled any little twitch or tell that could give away her feelings.

Nochras had no such advantage. His discomfort was palpable and growing with every second Thrawn's glowing red eyes were on him.

"I- That is-" He gave up. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Grand Admiral."

"No," Thrawn mused softly. "I take it you never paid any attention to contemporary Chassa art, or you might have stopped to wonder why a humanoid species would choose to depict themselves with up to eight arms each."

The man frowned in confusion. "I'd assumed those were gods of some sort."

It wasn't a bad guess. Pellaeon himself had thought as much when Thrawn put that same question to him earlier, in the holographic twilight of his personal command suite. But then, he hadn't been the governor of this planet these past five months. He wouldn't be expected to know the dominant religion among the Chassa had not for millenia involved the worship of anthropomorphic gods, many-armed or otherwise.

Thrawn gave the governor a long, thoughtful look. Then, abruptly, he turned to fully face the Chassa.

"Lady Itturka," he said softly. "How many arms did your likeness in the palace of your bloodline show?"

The Chassa's head and shoulders lowered slightly. Not a sign of submission, Pellaeon reminded himself. Her primordial ancestors had been the planet's apex predators, they had never cowered in tall grass or underbushes to escape danger. They had crouched before attacking.

"Knowing that," she hissed, "is another privilege. One I can choose not to grant you."

The challenge hung between them, heavy and oppressive like ionized air just before a thunderstorm. Nochras cleared his throat, as though he felt the tense silence should only be broken very carefully, bit by bit.

"Sir, with all due respect", he murmured, "may I remind you that holding Clan Leader Ittursh's sole heir, alive and- and relatively unharmed..."

"-would be a key strategic advantage, I agree," Thrawn finished the sentence for him without taking his eyes off Itturka's. "Therefore we should ascertain if that is, in fact, the situation."

Nochras opened his mouth as if to protest but wisely closed it again when the Grand Admiral continued.

"You are correct inasmuch as Ittursh has one heir, the way the Chassa see it. However that doesn't necessarily mean you captured the only member of her clutch who lived to adulthood."

"I- What?"

"To put it bluntly, Governor Nochras, the question is whether, in the eyes of the Chassa, you're holding a complete hostage or just an expendable part of one."

Itturka still met his eyes, unblinking. Even considering that it was mostly the chill that turned her face into a motionless mask Pellaeon had to respect her composure. Few had the nerve to hold Thrawn's glowing red eyes for long, and even fewer would manage it when facing the prospect of an Imperial interrogation. No doubt she expected the definition of 'relatively unharmed' to become rather malleable once the Empire learned she might still have sisters at large.

Except the Chassa wouldn't consider them sisters. They would consider them to be extensions of the same person. Executing her - this one member of the gestalt-person that comprised Itturka - might be considered a maiming, if anything, as long as at least one of her clutch-mates was still alive. The bloodline that the Chassa set so much stock by would remain unbroken.

Pellaeon supposed this way of looking at identity made sense when out of a clutch of half a dozen eggs only one hatchling survived more than a few days and usually wound up devouring its weaker siblings into the bargain. However it seemed the Chassa had collectively refused to change their outlook when advances in agriculture gave them easy access to extra protein and twins and triplets became commonplace.

He glanced over at Nochras, whose face had turned ashen when the implications dawned on him.

"I didn't- I wasn't told-" he stammered, but Thrawn cut him off.

"It isn't something the Chassa like to discuss with off-worlders, not even in the days of the Old Republic."

And of course they wouldn't dream of doing so now when it could be turned into a tactical advantage against a hated occupying force - although Thrawn believed it was as much because of a strong societal taboo that kept them from acknowledging the existence of surplus siblings, except as coy allegories in the artwork that would immortalize them to their descendants.

The governor swallowed drily and with visible effort drew himself up, with his hands clasped behind his back, presumably to hide any fidgeting. Of course, Pellaeon mused, he was old enough to have served under the late Lord Vader, when an oversight like this could get a man strangled on the spot.

"Will you want to oversee the interrogation personally, Grand Admiral?" he asked in a subdued tone that was a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor.

"Perhaps in due course, if it proves necessary. For now have everything prepared for a prisoner transfer to the Chimera. The Lady Itturka will be moved off-planet. Indefinitely."

That did get a reaction out of her. Her clawed fingers flexed, slowly and no doubt painfully from the cold, like those of an old woman with gout in her hands.

"If you do this thing," she hissed, "if I am no longer here, seen to be under your power, there will be nothing to stay my mother's hand. There will be blood again."

"There may be blood," Thrawn corrected her. "And if there is, maybe the Empire will shed yours in return. And maybe not. Your mother will never be sure. You will never be sure."

That last 'you' referring to any sister-selves she might still have on Chass-Rasshka. Pellaeon tried to imagine having a limb anesthetized, strapped down outside of his view, without knowing whether it would be returned to him eventually or be chopped off - or already had been. Yes, he could see how such uncertainty would be destabilizing to the Chassa's alien psychology. Certainly enough to make up for losing the poisoned fruit that was a hostage who might turn out to be an acceptable loss to the enemy after all.

And if he'd had any doubts, they were dispelled by Itturka slowly curling her lips, baring her inch-long, needle-shaped fangs in a mute display of emotion – though whether it was fury or anguish Pellaeon couldn't tell.

#thrawn #gilad pellaeon #thrawn trilogy #alien psychology #I guess this is Legends #Here I was thinking about alien ideas of identity and Thrawn kinda commandeered the scene?

[theunwellkingdom]

Design Deep-Dive #10: From Concept to Card

Iteration is crucial to good design. Your first ideas are rarely your best, and especially when designing an entire set of cards, it's impossible to know exactly how everything will interact until you actually sit down and play with it. One of the clearest examples of this is the card Mesmir's Betrayal, which required a drastic overhaul to find its niche!

Let's take a look at how this card went from rough concept, to one of the most exciting cards in the set!

1. Concept

Mesmir's Betrayal is a top-down design, meaning I started from the theming and flavor and had to build mechanics to fit (as opposed to bottom-up design, where the mechanical effects come first and narrative theming is decided later). In this case, I knew three things:

Mesmir was a powerful NPC wizard who betrayed our heroes at the end of a pivotal arc.

I'd already drawn art of this story beat that would be perfect for a card.

In this set, Red and Blue are all about Wizards, so this card should be a big, flashy payoff in those colors! Ideally, if you're playing lots of Wizards, this card should be able to close out the game.

2. First Draft

After a bit of thought, this was the first version of the card I printed out:

{2}🔥 Instant Rare

Until end of turn, target Wizard gains +3/+0, first strike, trample, and "Whenever this creature deals combat damage to a creature, exile that creature."

Cycling 💧 (💧, Discard this card: Draw a card.)

I really wanted to lean into the idea of a Wizard turning around and becoming a lethal threat! So this first draft operated as a combat trick that gives a scary stack of keywords a la Kaldra Compleat.

However, the way it's written, it would do absolutely nothing without a Wizard already in play. I decided this would be a good opportunity to split the Red and Blue identities of the card into two modal effects -- you could spend 🔥 for the aggressive combat trick, and 💧 to simply cycle the card away and draw a new one, if the situation didn't line up. It didn't feel like a perfect compromise, but it was good enough for the testing phase.

3. Playtesting

After several playtests, I began to realize that this card didn't operate the way I'd hoped. Frankly, it didn't operate at all -- even in tests where players had access to the card and were playing lots of Wizards in their deck, this card just wasn't making the cut. Instead, I focused on what was working with those decks, to see why this didn't fit into the gameplan and came away with several insights:

A combat trick feels useless to a non-combat-focused deck. The Izzet Wizards archetype wants to sling spells, not rely on pushing damage through combat. While it's important for those decks to have Wizards on board, their main role is to enhance other instants and sorceries, and to provide good targets for Concentration auras.

The buff feels unnecessarily complex. All those stats and keywords can be difficult to parse and make the card easier to dismiss. It feels flashy and scary, which is great, but it might as well read "Target Wizard gets +3/+0 and unblockable."

The card feels small. Making this card a 3-drop doesn't give it the impression of a big finisher. As flashy as the buff is, it doesn't feel like an effect that's likely to end the game on the spot.

It ignores too many Blue subthemes. Blue decks in this set have a lot of support for completely different angles, especially hand and library manipulation. If this card could hook into those synergies somehow, it might be more attractive to players.

It's not really "betraying" anything. Sure, making a Wizard suddenly good at combat does a decent job of conveying Mesmir's sudden heel-turn, but it doesn't quite capture the scope of our story: a man throwing his entire community into ruin for a chance at personal gain, a desperate but calculated final gambit!

With all this in mind, I was ready to push Mesmir's Betrayal to the next level...

4. Iteration

{4}🔥🔥 Sorcery 198/275 Rare

Mesmir's Betrayal deals 2 damage to any target. Wizardstorm (When you cast this spell, exile any number of target Wizards you control and/or Wizard cards from your hand. Copy this spell for each Wizard exiled this way. You may choose new targets for the copies.) Wizardcycling {1}💧 ({1}💧, Discard this card: Search your library for a Wizard card, reveal it, put it into your hand, then shuffle.)

Deal 2 damage. Wizardstorm. Wizardcycling.

Now we're talking.

It's risky to commit an entire brand-new keyword for this single card, but I just couldn't pass up the chance to play on the infamous Storm mechanic of MtG past! Instead of copying the spell for each other card played this turn, Mesmir's Betrayal lets you trade off your Wizards for damage, either decimating your own board or cashing out your hand to potentially reach lethal levels of burn!

Wizardstorm also provides an extremely satisfying mirror for the Wizardcycling mode of the card. This technically isn't a new mechanic, thanks to the cheeky and experimental Future Sight era. But it's certainly a deep cut that fits the flavor of the card and makes the card way more interesting in the early game, if you're having trouble drawing your Wizards or before you're ready to go all in on the burn plan.

It also allowed me to design a fun nod to Mesmir himself, by giving the creature version of his card an ETB that shuffles some spells back into your library. So you can Wizardcycle to find Mesmir, and then play him to let your opponent know... his Betrayal could be just around the corner! But that's a Card Showcase for another day.

5. Lather, Rinse, Repeat...

In all, the revised version of this card is a massive improvement in every aspect, and it's already been used to great success in a playtest with its new text! Most importantly, the Izzet Spellslinger archetype, which has underperformed so far compared to more creature-combat strategies, finally has a proper build-around card to pull players into those colors in a draft!

But of course, I'll keep testing it to make sure it's right in that sweet spot. The key to iteration, after all, is to keep iterating.

#the unwell kingdom #uwk #mtg #homebrew #devlog #game design #design deep-dive #ludonarrative #wizards

[vialaviolenza]

@epitaffia for a plotted starter !

Despite being rather new to the ‘game’ Donatella has proven her strength and brutality—and such was a blatant necessity with wearing the mantle of leadership for a gang known as Violenza. It didn’t start this way, in fact. . .Donatella was eye candy for many years, dedicated to filling the role of the perfect girlfriend that the ex-boss had wanted. To say it was irritating & demeaning would be an understatement, but to achieve her dreams of glamour & gore she’d have to be the personification of a black widow.

After what felt like eons, came an engagement, then the wedding that was small and quaint. . .and at the honeymoon. . .Well, the gangster known as Alejandro Amore vanished without a trace. Despite the parallels between him and her parents vanishing without a trace, not much is questioned simply because she didn’t allow the loss to settle, instead she immediately takes control of Violenza and Alejandro’s finances and helps the collective blossom.

Donatella would start by taking care of the men who tried to make eyes at her behind her late husband's back, those who thought a woman shouldn’t lead, and those who she simply didn’t like. . .afterward she was left with a small collective who shared her vision. After ample groundwork, others came to her and were adopted with strict expectations.

No longer was Violenza filled to the brim with toxic masculinity, instead a like-minded collective of inclusive outcasts filled her ranks. . and those close enough to her were able to kiss her ring ( the very ring adorned with a shard of the gem that changed everything for her). The intensity of her loyalty expectations weren’t lax but the promise of what she could offer kept most from betraying her. . .and for those questioning it, the punishment was proven to be far more horrifying than the majority could even imagine.

With great success came an unquenchable thirst for greed. Luxury cushioned her life, and while it didn’t make Donatella truly happy, it sure didn’t hurt. . .The business she engaged in handled stolen goods, exotic animals, loans, and unfortunately the worst of it, drugs. Once upon a time, she hated the mere concept of drugs until Alejandro introduced them to her—such a tale deals with a lot of anguish. However, after his disappearance, she got clean and adopted the mindset that she was only selling what people were buying. She absolved herself of the tragedy that often accompanied it, her profits enabling her to look away without much care. She wasn't known for her warmth, after all.

Today was a pivotal meeting with someone in the upper echelons of Passione, whether the 'don' or not was uncertain. Nevertheless, she intended to treat it as such, considering the potential alliance a crucial step for Violenza and her own tastes. The chosen café in Passione's territory had been exclusively reserved for the day, with the meeting scheduled for noon and an indefinite ending time. Despite her proficiency in such matters, nerves coursed through her. Passione was the largest collective, and securing their trust and alliance would greatly benefit Violenza.

For the special occasion, she had meticulously chosen a strappy halter cutout plunge gown(crafted by the esteemed luxury brand Romano, this particular piece bore a design created by her mother before her mysterious disappearance), its lower half composed of cascading layers of tulle, creating an ethereal, flowing effect. Her lustrous blond locks were expertly curled and styled in a near-formal updo, held in place by a clip adorned with glistening diamonds. Each of her arms was adorned with bicep-length gloves crafted from the same exquisite tulle material as her dress. Her fingers sparkled with a multitude of rings, a nod to her Italian heritage, and among them, a particularly significant ring. Her necklaces mirrored the style and elegance of the rings, harmonizing with the overall ensemble. Completing the look was a pristine pair of Louis Vuitton's and a white fur jacket, meticulously designed with an artful blend of various animal furs, resulting in a unique and somewhat grotesque face adorning the back.

A vintage Mercedes-Benz S-class pulls up to the cafe, the driver in typical fashion opens it for her and she steps out, a tall man coming to shadow alongside her. However. . .his attire strikes in its oddity—a black bodysuit that covered him from head to toe, overlaid by a formal modern mafioso suit.

A hand extends to her as he guides her inside to meet with the individual from Passione and it doesn’t take long to find him. Anxieties capture her heart, but she shrugs off her jacket, the faceless man taking it from her after he sets down a briefcase on the table, her seat pulled out immediately after. Donatella glances at him, a faint nod to excuse him but he doesn’t stray too far away.

❝⸻Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.❞ glossy nude lips curl slightly, a half-finished cigarette in hand hit as a crutch to maintain her composure, the smoke leaking from her nose as she puts it out into an ashtray. ❝ Milano decided to accompany me because I didn't wish to venture here alone.❞ Milano, standing nearby, remained unobtrusive, his gaze forward, appearing almost statuesque ❝ If you wish for him to step out completely, just say the word. ❞ Amber eyes behind peach lenses look over the pink-haired male, a curiosity stirring from him looking so. . young.

#epitaffia #v :: 5 #꧁༺ ⌈ ★ ⌉ Tel Romano ▓ ✧ –––– “ 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓' 𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖘 ” ༻꧂ #[ i hope this is okay! ] #[ if i need to make edits lmk :3 ]

[fandomgamersimp]

Important Topic - CoD and dog whistles

Before I begin - there are going to be mentions of mental and physical abuse, as well as a discussion of neo-nazi messages, so please beware. It's, in my opinion, important to the topic I'll be discussing and it is a crucial one to understand everything in its fullest, but don't force yourself to read anything you're not in the headspace for.

So, for context: one of many Ghost cosplayers I follow, FINN (he/they), on TikTok did a live a while ago with his friends. Among many comments, I saw one saying something along the lines of "cool nazi masks you all have, but go off I guess". And not only was I appaled that someone would call them that without proof, it also showed me that, most probably, many don't fully understand this topic- the cosplayers themselves most likely didn't see it due to all comments scrolling fast (though they could just pretend not to in order to not bring negative energy), and people did correct that person, but I feel like, if you are in the CoD fandom, there is unfortunately a chance that you may see that pop up here and there, and I want people to make sure they themselves understand the difference, and have the proper arguments to explain it; not to mention recognize when something may be an actual neo-nazi profile that you should be on alert around.

Let me also mention that I am in no way a specialist in the field, and everything I know comes from a person called the History Wizard (he/she/they) - they have an account on both Instagram, and Tiktok- highly recommend it if you want to further expand your knowledge with far more historical context he provides, she also have a playlist on dogwhistles on TT. I'm just here to provide you with main differences, and one dog whistle in particular.

The two most important features of when and what something is a dog whistle are: 1. Context in which they appear 2. Plausible deniability

The dog whistle that my case talks about refers to the fact that all the CoD cosplayers on the mentioned live wore Simon's mask, specifically this one (or a very similar one):

And I think the person who thought they were neo-nazi masks likely mistook it for this

What if someone asks you "how one is a neo-nazi dog whistle, and one isn't? How do you know they just cosplay, not using a dog whistle?" You circle back to the features of a dog whistle I pointed out earlier.

First, context. Simon's mask can't really be in itself a dog whistle just because it has a design of a skull on it- because it has no context of neo-nazi ideology or white supremacy involded with it, and it also has a different context for itself to begin with. Now, why Simon wears this mask is up for discussion as far as I've seen. He was tortured and abused both physically and mentally by someone wearing a skull mask, for example - so maybe this is his way of dealing with trauma, maybe he simply picked it up from his abuser (like Kaneki from Tokyo Ghoul cracking his fingers). He is also known for being incredibly hard to detect while on mission- just like an evasive ghost. Maybe he just wants to scare his enemies. I've also seen people theorising that it may be hiding scars and facial deformities, or the fact that no one really saw his actual face- just like according to some stories, you can't really see a ghost. At the end of it, Simon does have his own context for wearing this mask, and it's not related nor it's meant to be interpreted as something involving neo-nazism and white supremacy- there is no context for it.

Unlike the actual dog whiste- which will also involve our second feature that is plausible deniability.

It appears in specific context, not pop up out of thin air for no reason. A dog whistle is meant to be a stealthy/coded message that is saying from one bigot to another "I'm one of you" while also showing other bigots which people to target with their hate speech - for example, you may see a comment section of someone who openly talks about being Jewish or even "looks Jewish" to them (because remember that hate doesn't run on logic) spammed with "Never Lose Your Smile". That is the context by which you can decide whether you're dealing with a nazi or not. Jewish creators, someone with a star of David in their profile, or someone who fits their stereotypical view of how Jewish people look, talk and act, with profile filled with a comment like this. But someone may say "yeah, sure, this one is worded really weirdly, but it sounds nice enough". That's when you tell them about plausible deniability. A white supremacist can easily snake their way out - that's what makes it a dog whistle. Cosplayers of Ghost don't need it, because there isn't really anything to hide away/ escape from. If a message is way too obvious/ too clear and there is no possible double meaning in it, it is not a dog whistle.

Context and plausible deniability are very important factors, that's why I want you to remember them. Just because those cosplayers were wearing skull masks, it doesn't mean they are nazis. Anyone wearing a skull mask is not automatically a white supremacist. You can't really decide whether someone is a nazi or not without doing further research on them- their political views, their profile, what they comment on other people's posts etc.

Those people who did a live had an entirely different context for wearing those masks - they were simply cosplaying Simon Riley. Just like Simon has his own reason and context for wearing his mask. Plausible deniability is also still important - because it is dangerous. It gives bigots a way to seem innocent - but it should further push you and other people thinking someone might be a nazi that you need further research and background. I also think it's safe to say that the live lacked it- because FINN and their friends did not need any form of deniability. They just cosplayed, they had fun on live. That's it. Actual white supremacists/nazis appear in certain context while also hiding from any form of repercussions behind plausible deniability. I hope I really drove this point across.

If you lack context and something is far too obvious with its message, it is not a dog whistle. If something appears outside of the background of harmful ideologies, with its own seperate story/context, you're most likely not dealing with an actual white supremacist.

I hope you got what I'm trying to say and that you'll be prepared in case you'd see those out in the wild. Apologies for the messiness, but again I'm not really a specialist in this field, nor my thoughts organised much to be honest. I just wanted to let it out there.

Also I hope this much was obvious, but my profile is in no way, shape or form a safe space for bigots, and this counts antisemitic people. Go to a therapist, not on my profile- you are not welcomed here.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod discussion #call of duty discussion #ghost mw2 #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost riley #tw white supremacy #tw antisemitism #tw mentions of abuse #tw mentions of torture #important #cod cosplay #cod ghost cosplay #cod cosplayers #educate yourselves #educational #safety

[adamwatchesmovies]

Charade (1963)

1963’s Charade is a comedy, a romance and a suspense thriller all at once. The mix seems incompatible, particularly when your lead couple is separated by 25 years, but the results work. So well. In fact, much of what makes the film special are the ingredients other movies would’ve eliminated. It’s got so many twists it’ll make your head spin off its axis and there’s no way you’ll guess the ending.

Returning from a skiing holiday in the French Alps, Regina “Reggie” Lampert (Audrey Hepburn) discovers her apartment stripped bare, her bank accounts empty and the husband she was about to divorce dead. His four passports - all under different names - lead the police to suspect foul play. All signs point towards the three men who attend his sparse funeral (played by James Coburn, George Kennedy and Ned Glass) being involved in his murder. They threaten Reggie, warning her the money they’re owed better show up soon. With the help of a charming American stranger, Peter Joshua (Cary Grant), Reggie begins sifting through her husband’s last possessions for clues.

From the colourful and stylish opening credits (Designed by Maurice Binder), you know you’re in for an unusual treat. This movie is bright and shiny. When Reggie and Peter are together, all you can think about is them but he’s apprehensive. She just lost her husband - she didn’t love him. They’ve just met - and aren’t they great together? There’s such a big age difference - she doesn’t care, why does he? The banter they have back-and-forth is full of great, witty lines, the kind you want to memorize and pull out at the right moment to knock all your friends off their feet.

But wait. This is a romantic comedy… but it’s also a thriller. Just when you think we’re getting ready to zoom in on that first kiss… a dead body. A hideous murder. A gun. Now you’ve got to wonder. Is he actually hesitant to get with her because of some chivalrous impulse… or is he stringing her along for nefarious purposes? What if it's the opposite. Maybe Reggie knows something we don’t and she’s trying to seduce it out of Peter. Maybe their coincidental meeting wasn’t a coincidence at all! But no, there’s no way there could be anything sinister between Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. They’re simply too good together to be anything but a couple waiting to fall in love.

That’s how you feel during the whole movie. One moment, you’re in knots over the thriller elements. You wonder if the unhelpful CIA agent (Walter Matthau) is up to something no good… until you remember this is a comedy. You think it’s getting fun and screwball-y with people looking into rooms for clues to figure out who’s got the money… and then someone turns up dead. Yikes! This movie keeps you on your toes in a way you’re not used to, which might make it more enjoyable on a second viewing. Then again, this first ride is a blast as you try to figure out who’s lying, who’s going to betray who, what’s a real clue, what’s a dead end, and so on. Not that you’ll be able to figure it out on your own. This is not the kind of movie that will linger on a piece of paper to give away a crucial detail. You might be able to guess certain motivations but where the money went? No way. I suppose you could call that a bit of cheat - part of the fun is usually piecing together all the puzzle's pieces and seeing if you can beat the detectives to the conclusion - but this isn’t a normal thriller. Not at all.

You could never recreate the magic of Charade. You might be tempted to, with the one fight scene that’s a bit clunky and another where everyone decides to go with the flow instead of calling the police, but too much of what makes this movie good is unique to when it was made. The actors fit their roles so perfectly it would be foolish to recast them. The dialogue is too magnificent to be tweaked. The atmosphere is a perfect mix of romance, mystery, and danger. It’s a great choice if you want to know what made Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant icons. (May 14, 2021)

#Charade #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #stanley donen #peter stone #marc behm #cary grant #audrey hepburn #walter matthau #james coburn #1963 movies #1963 films