#just that it's interesting we have these images and relics of the past I guess

[sshbpodcast]

Won’t someone think of the children?! A Jankom Pog Appreciation Post

By Ames

Okay, I meant to only do a Rok-Tahk appreciation post because a) she’s the best and b) who has the time to write all these blogposts? But I just can’t help myself. The community’s efforts to #SaveStarTrekProdigy have motivated me to keep the posts going, so here’s some more love for Star Trek: Prodigy. These installments probably won’t be as intense as the Rok post, but check out what makes Jankom Pog such a great character.

[images © CBS/Paramount… I guess? For now? Yikes.]

Jankom makes you change your mind

Jankom is the character I had the most trouble coming up with good headlines for in this blogpost, and here’s why that’s actually a good thing! He’s supposed to be the obnoxious, goofy, jokey comic relief character for kids to giggle at. He has a weird tick in that he speaks about himself in the third person, which starts off funny and then gets tiresome. He’s voiced by notorious character actor Jason Mantzoukas, who plays pretty much every role he touches maximum-Derek, over-the-top zany. But once you learn about all the trauma in Jankom’s backstory, you understand him a little more, and what seemed like a really annoying character for frankly most of the season materializes into a character who makes a lot of sense. It would be like finding out Jar Jar Binks were abused as a child and that’s why he’s such a screw up. Especially for a kid’s show, it’s actually a really nice way of portraying a character who has more going on under the surface than he lets on, and you shouldn’t just judge a book by its cover, as you’ll see below…

Jankom has PTSD

In an era in which more and more is known about autism or ADD or anxiety or PTSD or other mental health conditions, it’s actually quite great to see a character whom the audience will immediately dismiss out-of-hand and then have him get fleshed out as a person whom the rest of the crew accepts in spite of his eccentricities. And you may kick yourself a little bit! I remember a lot of people thinking “Ugh, Jankom is simply the worst,” myself included, and then feel like an asshole when his backstory gives you some of the traumatizing reasons why he’s like that from the episode “Preludes.” Prodigy reminds us over and over again to be more accepting of people’s differences by showing us these great characters who love each other unconditionally, and why can’t we do that ourselves?

Jankom served on a sleeper ship

“Preludes” also informs us that Tellarite orphans (Jankom’s an orphan – that’s something else to hopefully get to explore!) are put on sleeper ships. We learn that Jankom was in cryostasis for two centuries before his ship malfunctioned and he woke up. As we’ve discussed whenever cryostasis comes up, putting someone in the freezer for a period of time has some interesting implications on the world of the show. This makes Jankom literally a relic from the past! We don’t know [yet] what his life was like before going into cryo, but that does put his birthdate right before the time the Federation was getting founded in Enterprise, so that’s kinda neat. And when we see his backstory as de facto engineer of this constantly breaking sleeper ship, we also understand more about Pog’s preoccupation with wanting to fix things. Jankom Pog can fix it!

Jankom gives us a main Tellarite character

We’ve never had one of these! The Tellarites have come a long way from the horrible pig masks from “Journey to Babel,” and I am dying to know more! Sure, they’re Federation royalty, being one of the founding members of the Federation, and Enterprise gives us a little bit more of them, but most everything we know about them is that they’re argumentative gluttons who particularly don’t care for Andorians very much. Prodigy does well to keep this consistent, especially when we see Dr. Noum acting incredibly judgmentally toward just about everyone, especially Jankom Pog for being short in “Crossroads.” We don’t get to learn much new about them except the aforementioned penchant for using cryosleep to span long distances in space. They’re so nice to see and I want more.

We love you, Jankom Pog! We love the other crew members of the Protostar too! We love Star Trek: Prodigy! Check out the other character appreciation posts for Rok-Tahk, Dal R’El, Gwyndala, and Zero while you’re here. I know I can speak for not only the other hosts here at A Star to Steer Hey By but for myriad other fans when I seriously hope someone picks up this wonder of a show. We’re really looking forward to seeing more from these amazing child characters, and we’re seriously wishing we get that opportunity. #SaveStarTrekProdigy

#star trek #star trek podcast #podcast #star trek prodigy #prodigy #save prodigy #save star trek prodigy #jankom pog #tellarite

[ripperdaddy]

the viktor vector romance path + ending we deserve

Disclaimer: This is definitely something I came up with in my head. There will be a few instances that are solely made up so it can tie in with the “story.” This is purely fictional; something I wished happened if there was a possible Vik romance 🥰 This is based on my general knowledge of the game & Vik’s life. All gifs + images are from my own personal play through, but wouldn’t be possible without the help of the Appearance Menu Mod, found on Nexus Mods by the creators, MaximiliumM and CtrlAltDaz. And the shirtless Vik mod by the lovely samsnak ♡

It would start after completing the Paid In Full quest where you pay Vik back the eddies you owe him.

I feel like realistically, the general player would have to be at least halfway through the story to have collected enough eddies. I would say that a good point in the story where we can begin the romance is that you’ve already established a connection to Alt and have dealt with the VDB’s.

I think it would be a short side quest like River’s. Vik already plays a big part in the story overall on his own, so I don’t think it’s necessary to make his “side quest” too long. His romance would just be an addition to the ending.

And as much as I would love for him to be a bisexual option for both male/female V, if we’re sticking with the game’s standard with limiting partners to only one kind of partner, he would only be romance-able by a female V with a feminine voice.

V: Finally scrounged up enough eddies to pay you back in full.

Vik: Hold on to ‘em just in case - you need ‘em more than me.

V: I’m not taking them all the way to my grave, Vik. Here. And.. thanks again for doing so much work on me ‘thout ever seein’ an enny.

Vik: That’s what friends are for.

Then, there is an additional option for dialogue to trigger the romance path.

V: Friends? I think you’ve been in and out of my body more than anyone else I’ve hooked up with in Night City.

He laughs, with a coy smile. “Well, can’t argue with you there. Why don’t we take some of these eddies and grab a drink. You know, to celebrate. Catch up on old times. Haven’t seen you round here much lately, kid.”

You agree to meet at the El Coyote Cojo tomorrow evening.

You meet around 9 PM and you are welcomed by the sight of Pepe and Vik at the bar.

V: Nice choice of venue.

Vik: Thought you’d like it. Haven't been here since.. well, you know.

V: I miss him, Vik.

Vik: I know, V. Me too.

You immediately take a seat and tinker with a few dialogue options, where you can either have a sweet moment talking about Jackie or some surface questions to ask, like how he’s doing, what kind of drink he likes, etc. But it all winds down to Jackie anyway, where Vik confides in you about his past. Judging by how Vik was so affected by Jackie’s death, and V’s (if you chose the suicide ending), you can tell that he has lost a lot in his life, and keeps his circle very small.

You then achieve an even closer, more personal relationship with him. But, ultimately nothing happens other than the usual, wait 24 hours in game for a text/phone call from Vik to head into the next stage. At least now, you have established the foundation for a future romance.

Halfway through the 24 hour period, you get a text from Vik thanking you for the lovely evening. No reply needed, as he calls you once the 24 hour mark hits and invites you out for another date.

You meet at Tom’s Diner for coffee in the afternoon. It starts off with him apologizing for being emotional the previous night and asks if you’re open to hanging out again and going down to Pacifica to watch a fight with him.

Vik: Hey, V. I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.

V: It’s okay, Vik. We share the same grief.

Vik: I was going to head down to Pacifica and catch a real good match later on today. I was wondering if you’d like to come along, think it’d be great for the both of us, you know, as a distraction.

pssst even Johnny’s rooting for y’all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Johnny: Hmm, interesting.

V: What?

Johnny: Never thought you'd be going out with this guy.

V: Vik's amazing. And I mean--we basically owe it to him since he practically saved our life.

Johnny: Don't tell me you're going out with him out of pity.

V: I'm not.

Johnny: I know, I can feel you get all mushy-gushy. It's almost repulsive. Just wanted to hear you admit it.

V: Eat a dick, Johnny.

You arrive before the GIM and blend into the crowd.

V: Nothin’ like watching guys beat the shit out of each other to get your blood pumpin’, huh?

Vik: This is a real good matchup, V. This kid’s fresh, young talent.

V: You miss it, don’t you?

Before the fight begins, Vik shares a story about his time in the ring and coming in second in the Watson Boxing Grand Prix.

There’s some extra fun options in the dialogue, you can bet some eddies on who’s gonna win, or side with him. The fight ends, and you two head outside.

Since you’re already out in Pacifica, you head over to the boardwalk (where you would ride the roller coaster with Johnny) and he starts telling you about the last days of his boxing career and how he transitioned from the sport to being a ripperdoc.

You both share a sweet moment with each other, reminiscing about old times and talking about V’s future with the relic. This is where I would see Vik confessing how he feels about you, mentioning how grateful he is for Jackie introducing you to him.

The evening ends and Vik asks you to give him some time to try and dig up some footage from his storage and have you come over to watch. You can kiss him then wait another 24 in game hours before the last quest. Halfway through, he texts you and asks you what you’d like for dinner. You can opt for pizza or chinese.

I haven’t seen or read anything about how or where Vik lives. If I overlooked something, please let me know! But for the sake of the story, let’s say he does actually have his own place that’s now introduced in the game. Personally, I think he has a typical bachelor pad, like a really nice apartment. Not too far from his clinic either. He looks like he would just walk to work. Vik definitely has a lot of money, but he’s so humble I doubt he would choose to live lavishly. As mentioned in the beginning, he typically just “sleeps nights” ever since he was over “being a legend” so I’m guessing his lifestyle is very routine. He goes to work, goes home, sleep. Seems unlikely he has a place like the Peralez’s. It would probably be just the same as V’s but decorated to his taste.

The evening comes and you are over at his place. He’s dressed in just a white undershirt, no exo-glove. You get to know more about his family, how he grew up — scanning things around his place. Then he plays some footage of one of his fights for you, while you two have a conversation and share a beer. As you two sit on the couch, you get close, then have an opportunity to kiss him.

then this is where da sex happen hihihi (ノ・ω・)ノ

The next morning you wake up and you two have a heartfelt conversation about where this is going. He already knows your situation, so I would assume he is very accepting and supportive. And with Vik, he seems like the kind of guy who would still want to be in your life and keep the friendship the same way despite no longer being together romantically. So it’s official. He’s your man 🥵 !!11!1!

Like how River gives you the “fuck the police” tank top after sleeping with him, I think Vik would give you his Night City Devils t-shirt that provides you with a significant amount of armor or some kind of cyberware upgrade that makes you invulnerable for a brief moment while using your hands to fight enemies.

Note: I was thinking of Vik giving V his boxing glove necklace, but because it's part of his character's appearance in the game, I don't think we would be able to essentially "take it" from him - unless he gives you a replica as a keepsake. Which I think would also work.

If you successfully romance, during the rooftop scene near the end of Nocturne OP55N1 (despite Vik’s disposition of him telling you to take matters in your own hands and being a little closed off), you still have an option to reach out to him when Johnny advises you to call a loved one.

V: Hey, Vik. I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging with me, until the end.

Vik: Quit talking like it is, V. Just do what you need to do.

V: I mean, think of it. It’s like I’m heading into the last round of this whole thing.

Vik: Well, in that case.. remember—keep your hands up, guarded at all times. It ain’t over just yet.

V: Heh.. I can feel it, just a few more punches.

Vik: Now look at you - the new welterweight champ of Night City.

V: Thanks, coach.

Vik: Last piece of advice from the coach's corner. Just.. be careful, kid. Remember, I’m with you.

Okayyyy, soooo I’m not the biggest fan of how CDPR gave us two of the same endings (Path of Glory). The only difference is that Rogue’s life is spared. I would have assumed that not only would we get to keep Rogue around, things should have played a bit more differently for V if we took the route of going solo against the corpos. So let’s tweak it.

This specific ending; it should be after getting through Don’t Fear The Reaper where you single-handedly manage to rip through Arasaka by yourself. Johnny goes back to Alt & Rogue is still alive. Yes nobody dies!!!

(honestly this ending can apply to any love interest you choose)

Vik and V are now living together in a lavish penthouse, entertaining an upcoming merc to do their work for them (which is now the current POV of the player.) You were recruited by Rogue at the Afterlife, who told you to visit this couple for a real, preem job.

They give you some vague details about the gig and go on for a brief moment about what you will be doing and what you should expect. Vik emphasizes to you that it’s important you get what they need because it’s for his wife, V, as her life depends on it.

As Never Gonna Fade Away is playing in the background, they tell you to break into Arasaka HQ.

Then the game officially ends.

#cyberpunk 2077 #viktor vector #v/vik #let us romance the ripperdoc you cowards

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

I'll Write This Scene a Thousand Times - Ch1

AO3 Link || Next Chapter

Ship: Moceit (Janus/Patton)

Warnings: Alcohol, Implied sex, one-night stand, rumours and scandal, swearing, I would recommend a 16+ readership, but since this isn't actually explicit I guess use your discretion?

Summary: For all accounts and purposes, Patton Hart should have been able to make it through his twenties in the music industry without coming face to face with a scandal. The perfect package of talented and adorable, with family connections to boot, all he'd had to do was keep out of trouble, and he was good at that.

He hadn't counted on running into Janus Lyre. The beautiful, frustrating, devil-may-care actor evidently has some sort of effect on Patton, driving him to make the sort of mistake that never would have crossed his mind previously. Now, with their faces plastered across the internet and fledgling careers on the line, the two of them need to keep the lie of their fleeting relationship sustained.

‘The sweetheart and the snake’ - has Janus Lyre found a new ‘Hart’ to break?

Less than an hour after being photographed at the premiere for his own movie, the young star was seen at a swanky downtown nightclub - guess that’s one flick we won’t be catching!

But, dear readers, that’s not the most interesting part. With Lyre’s turbulent record over his few years of fame, one might say playing hooky is just a minor infraction for the beloved bad boy, but the same can’t be said for the cutie hanging off his arms in those photos! Some of you might have already recognised those cute brown curls and sunshine grin, and as hard as it may be to believe that is indeed Patton Hart.

The youngest son of now retired singer Ophelia Hart has made quite a name for himself recently, with his sugary sweet lyrics and impossibly innocent persona - impossibly being the operative word. Is the golden boy finally rebelling? Or had there always been a darker side to Hart, hidden behind the saccharine pastel branding?

---

Logan Wright: Just saw the news. Need to talk immediately. Send me your location, I can arrange for you to be picked up safely.

Logan Wright: Patton please pick up my calls

Logan Wright: I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how urgent this is??

---

Patton groaned around the headache coursing through his skull as he paced the wooden floors of the darkened bedroom, willing the phone in his hand to be still long enough for him to figure out what to do.

This had to be a bad dream.

Patton Hart was not the kind of guy to wake up in another man’s bed with a bad hangover, barely any memories of the previous night, a hundred missed calls from his manager, and compromising pictures of himself spread all over the internet.

Maybe if he just crossed his fingers real hard and opened up twitter again, it would all just be gone and he would wake up in his own home, sans migraine, and everything would be just fine.

Nope. Patton’s own besotted face was the very first thing that greeted him as he opened the app, gazing up at Janus Lyre of all people. He felt like he was looking at a stranger as he flicked through the images despite his own surmounting dread. He watched this weirdly confident version of himself, practically draping himself over a man he barely knew, grinning as Janus leaned in to whisper in his ear, kissing him in the street outside the nightclub, his own unfamiliar hands running through long dark locks, wandering down to lithe waist and hips, pulling their bodies even closer.

Patton felt sick. He had to call Logan, he knew that. Logan knew how to fix things, he would handle this.

Then again, Patton had never given him something like this to fix before.

The tweets underneath the photos ranged between a variety of reactions, from confused, to shocked, to disgusted to “always knew Patton Hart had a dirty side”, to “Can’t wait to see how long Janus keeps this one around.”

To be perfectly honest, all of them made the sea of dread and nausea in Patton’s gut rise and lurch.

“This is so bad,” he muttered to the figure that had just appeared in the doorway, glass of water in hand.

“Oh is it? Is it really? Oh, thank you so much for telling me, I would definitely have forgotten just how ‘bad’ this was if you weren't here to remind me.”

Janus Lyre was infuriatingly cool, in a way that no one really had a right to be in the mornings - let alone on this morning. Somehow, even in sweatpants, with his tousled hair tied back in a low ponytail, he managed to make Patton feel awkwardly underdressed for having put his own clothes back on. His smudged eyeliner, a relic of the night, only added to the effect of his condescending eyeroll.

Regardless, Patton was grateful to accept the water, and the aspirin that was dropped into his palm with it. At least he was a gracious host, all things considered.

He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, sipping slowly as he picked at a rip in his rumpled jeans. He could feel the weight of Janus’ eyes on him, but he didn’t want to look up. It felt like he’d be doing something wrong, shameful even, to be looking at the other man right now, despite all that had already transpired between them.

He didn’t know Janus, not really, but he had known of him. At least, he’d known he was bad news. He was an incredible actor, from what Patton had heard, and had managed to flourish in the past couple of years despite his young age and apparent lack of industry connections.

…Unfortunately, his incredible acting wasn’t all that he was known for. Janus’ name frequently popped up with regards to his sardonic responses to the press, disregard for convention, insulting important names in the industry, and generally being considered trouble.

Patton had often wondered how the man hadn’t been blacklisted yet. He never thought he’d end up tangled up with him in any way, much less this literally.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re getting how serious this is,” he protested, “I - I just don’t understand how - there are pictures, Janus, everywhere, I have so many calls-”

Janus looked almost amused, as he leaned casually against the curtained windows, quirking an eyebrow at Patton.

“Oh dear, not pictures !” he mocked, “I take it this is your first time getting caught ‘ in flagrante’?”

“Wha- yes,  of course!” Patton flushed.

“Well, don’t worry then, the first time is always the hardest,” Janus responded lightly, seeming as though he was getting quite bored with the conversation, and by extension, with Patton.

“I don’t exactly intend there to be a second time, just so you know,” Patton snapped,” I didn’t even intend for there to be a first time, quite frankly-”

Janus did look amused at this, grinning smugly as he replied, “Oh, is that right? You and I appear to remember last night very differently.”

“I’d really rather not talk about last night, thanks.”

“I’d happily talk about anything else. You are the one that keeps bringing it up,” Janus shrugged, before turning on his heel to face the window, tugging the curtain open by the corner, just enough to invite in a thin stream of light.

Patton might struggle with nuance sometimes, but even he understood that - Janus had got the last word in, and now he was done talking.

He huffed in annoyance, but it didn’t stop his traitorous eyes from following the graceful movement, tracing the dark lines of the tattoo that marked Janus’ light brown skin, a massive serpent that coiled and looped all over one side of his slender frame, seeming almost to writhe, hypnotically, with the slightest movement.

Patton tore his eyes away quickly, tugging self consciously at his own sweater sleeves. The cool water had helped slightly, but he could feel the dread settling in his stomach again. He didn’t belong in this situation, having wild midnight trysts with ridiculously pretty men, and whatever confidence the alcohol had apparently given him last night had evaporated, leaving him utterly unprepared for light, flirtatious morning-after banter.

“Um, well,” he cleared his throat and stood up, “I should probably go now, and call my manager to fix all this. Thank you for, er - the water, and last night, I guess, and I wish you all the best, of course.”

Janus didn’t even turn around to respond, “Oh, and I don’t suppose you’ll need transportation arranged?”

“No thank you,  I can find my way-”

“And give the press an opportunity to catch you leaving the den of the snake? In the same clothes you entered in, no less?”

“I-”

Luckily, Patton didn’t have to come up with a clever response, because Logan - his dear, wonderful, manager Logan - decided to call him at that very moment.

“...I have to take this.” he muttered triumphantly, turning around to lift the phone to his ear, “Hi, Logan, I am so, so, sorry - I meant to call you, I just-”

“No time,” Logan’s phone voice was as always, clipped and professional, and he got straight to the point, “I need to see you. Immediately. There is much to discuss. I trust you’ve had enough foresight to remain at Lyre’s residence and not step outside?”

“I - I’m still here, yep.” Patton blushed.

“Good. I’m sending a car, don’t leave the building until it arrives. And bring Lyre with you, please.”

“You want to meet Janus?”

“The subject I need to discuss with you also concerns him, so yes.”

“Oh- um, okay, I’ll bring him. Um, do you need an address?”

“No need, I have it.”

“Already? How?”

“That is my job, Patton.”

“Right, right, fair enough. Okay, I’ll see you.”

---

Patton had a flashback to middle school - the one time he was sent to see the principal for bad behaviour - as he knocked nervously on the door to Logan’s office.

“Come in.”

He heard a scoff from behind him as he took a deep breath, preparing to open the door - it had been a struggle to get Janus to come along.

Just as he’d expected - and feared - Logan was wearing his “I am a professional and thus I am not going to get upset” face. What he hadn’t expected, was that this look didn’t seem directed at him.

Leaning back in the chair next to Logan’s, high heeled boots on the desk, was a man that Patton had never seen before - and between the half-black, half-silver mullet, curled moustache, and bright green glitter, he was pretty sure he’d remember if he had.

His eyes skipped over Patton entirely before settling on Janus and lighting up.

“J-Anus!” he cackled, “Thanks for not picking up any of my calls from last night, asshole!”

“Remus, good to see you,” Janus sighed, “Looks like your mummy called my mummy,” he whispered loudly to Patton.

To Remus, he said, “I do apologise, Remus, I turned my phone off because I was busy not watching the movie I was in. I’m sure you understand.”

“Ahem,” Logan interrupted, “Mr Lyre, thank you for coming in, Patton, this is Remus Rey, Mr Lyre's manager. Please take a seat, Remus and I have much to discuss with you.”

Patton waved politely at Remus, who winked back.

“Well first things first, I’d like to say congratulations to you both-”

“Remus.”

“-But that was nasty fucking trick you pulled there, Jay! You promised me you’d stop disappearing from important events! You know how much work I have to do to clear that shit up?”

Janus shrugged like a petulant teenager. “Got bored.”

“I really am sorry for putting this on you, Logan.” Patton could see Logan’s knuckles tightening, a familiar tenseness in his jaw, that telegraphed that he was Not Having a Good Time.

“That’s - not to worry, Patton,” a twitch had started to develop in his right eye, “technically speaking, this is - my job.”

“And he’s pretty damn good at it if he’s managed to keep you out of trouble this long eh, Patty?” Remus cracked in, “I mean, for what it’s worth, I always knew there was more to you, but the two of you really had the rest of those idiots fooled, huh?”

“Um…”

“ Anyways,” Logan interrupted through gritted teeth, “Whilst the two of you were missing in action, so to speak…”

Patton sunk a little deeper in his seat. He wasn’t looking at him, but he was pretty sure he could feel Janus roll his eyes from beside him.

“...Remus and I had a chance to sit down and decide how to deal with this in a way that will benefit both parties.”

“ Oh, how fascinating, do tell .”

Logan, apparently much better equipped at dealing with smart-ass comments than Patton, ignored Janus entirely.

“Now, the two of you may have your reservations, but I request that you please hear us out before rejecting the matter entirely.”

“Now, the two of you may have your reservations, but I request that you please hear us out before rejecting the matter entirely.”

“Of Course we’ll hear you out!”

“ ...Yes, because that request didn’t raise any suspicions at all.”

“Remus and I think the best way to spin this current...situation to our advantage, would be with a relationship contract.”

There was a silence in the room for a minute as the full meaning of Logan’s words settled in. Well, a silence accompanied by Remus tapping out a rhythm on the edge of Logan’s desk with his - admittedly fabulous - acrylic nails. After what felt like a full minute he grinned at them.

“Pretty good, huh? It was my idea.”

”Yes, well, I cannot exactly deny that Remus was the one to suggest that,” Logan grumbled, “However, I do support it entirely, and am happy to proceed with your consent.”

“You want us to...date?”

“They want us to pretend to date,” Janus interjected, “A few staged photos, attend events on my arm, everyone thinks this was a sweet little lover’s outing and not a drunken fling.”

“See, I told you mine was smart!” Remus grinned proudly at Logan.

“...Indeed,” Logan nodded at Janus, “I understand you might have your compunctions, but this is the best way for us to spin this into something... close to brand-appropriate, for Patton. And as for you, Mr Lyre-”

“We’re hoping we can make it look like you’re finally setting down, starting to behave yourself, or some horseshit like that,” Remus cut in, “I gotta keep you booked somehow, Jan-Jan.”

Another long silence filled the room - and even Remus stayed quiet for this one. Patton stared at his lap. He didn’t exactly feel great about this sort of thing, but Logan had said it was the only way. And heck, this sort of stuff happened all the time in this line of work, he knew that. Right?

Janus spoke up first.

“How long would this contract be, exactly?”

“We were thinking one year,” came Logan’s reply.

A whole year?

"I assume there are rules?"

"Behave as though you're in a relationship, perform for the camera when necessary, and if you intend to have outside relations, do try to keep them private - or better yet, don't."

“...I’m amenable,” Janus said finally.

And then, Patton could feel three sets of eyes on him, waiting for a response. Logan, calm and expectant, as ever hiding his impatience behind professionalism. Remus, toothy-grinned, leaning forward as if he was watching a sports match.

And Janus. For the first time with sober eyes, Patton levelled his own gaze with Janus’. His face was as inscrutable as ever, but Patton could feel the unspoken challenge behind his mismatched eyes. Asking him whether Patton Hart could handle something like this. Or worse, outright stating that he couldn’t.

…Or maybe Janus wasn’t thinking any of that and it was just Patton’s own loopy consciousness egging him on. Either way, the words slipped out of his mouth before he even thought them.

“I’ll do it.”

#moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #sanders sides #ts sides #sanders sides fanfiction #celebrity au #fake dating #remus sanders #logan sanders #my writing

[ganymedesclock]

I absolutely love your Hollow Knight headcanons, and I have a question because I'm curious what your thoughts on this are: do you have any headcanons about Lemm? What's his deal, where did he come from? Furthermore, how do you think the interaction would go if he ended up meeting Quirrel at some point?

Hollow Knight is one of those exciting SpIn franchises for me where if I don’t have headcanons about a particular character I’ll string ‘em together pretty quickly because I just like the world that much.

Lemm, incidentally, I have thought about! So I’ll just toss out a sorta randomized tasting platter here under the cut.

Lemm offhandedly mentions other relic seekers but rather than a scholarly order he suggests they’d be jealous of him or compete with him, so he clearly has peers. He also tells Ghost that if they want to move into the City of Tears he’d prefer they pick an empty building AWAY from the one he’s taken over.

He’s shown to be finicky, obstinate, and argumentative- possibly other relic seekers are closer to each other than they are to him- but even when he really, really wants something from Ghost, he’s fair with them, and he is honest with them about how much each is worth. (He doesn’t try to con you on the arcane eggs, and is sincere about how much it means to him.) He also seems to actually enjoy Ghost as an audience, and like talking about it. The description for the Void Idol suggests that Ghost potentially hangs around Lemm and learns from him more than we necessarily ‘see’ in canon.

I interpret Lemm as a wholly mundane sort of bug, no magical aptitude, but as someone who is quite brawny and physically powerful. I just like the idea that in some kind of modern supernatural AU he’d be the ostensible normal everyman keeping up, frustratedly, with all of this mystical stuff happens but then they get ambushed by a zombie and Lemm just lays it out. Overall this guy’s about as much of a desk jockey as Indiana Jones- he mentions doing long treks through the city avoiding husks.

So, to spin what I imagine might be a probable backstory; he seems less like someone who’s accustomed to loneliness or isolation, but rather someone who seeks it out. Possibly grew up in a big family with a lot of siblings, or otherwise a very rowdy environment where he felt like not much room was made for his interests and passions and him having things the way he wants them. Isolation alone doesn’t make him happy, though he seems the type to insist he is (not after neighbors, and all)- really, more than anything, he wants to be listened to and feel like someone is paying attention to him, I think.

He seems to be highly educated and may be something of an elitist snob about it at first glance, but, again, feeding into a kind of defensiveness.

Possibly his interest in history is a kind of compassion? He seems obsessed with the Hollow Knight and the identity of the Five Great Knights, so his own fear of being forgotten (?) / resentment at being overlooked may be something he tries to extend to others. He seeks those who were obscured by history. He’s more cynical about the Pale King than he is about the knights, but even then, he talks about the King’s Idols like he wonders who that person was, as well.

So, yeah, I like this mental image- young Lemm coming from an aristocratic family (his character colors match those of the aristocrat husks) but an overlooked ‘middle child’ too far from the inheritance to feel like he mattered much and entering some kind of major academia institution to prove himself and seek acclaim, only to become irritated and disillusioned with that / in part make enemies for his argumentative personality- and then putting everything he had on his back and heading to Hallownest because he’s out of patience with it all.

Which leads me to... Quirrel.

Quirrel is a living relic and he is an overlooked witness to an erased chapter of Hallownest’s history- the fate of the three Dreamers, and, through them, the Hollow Knight. He’s a key witness to the exact subject of Lemm’s obsession and a record who was not really purged, even if the pieces are in disarray, and wander in and out of his recollection.

Unfortunately rather than a tablet or archive Lemm can pour over and delve into with all of his skills, Quirrel is a person with feelings and opinions, and some of them are that, as an academic, Quirrel has a very different stance to Lemm. 

Quite simply, Quirrel’s perspective seems far more transformative than curatorial. He emphasizes seeing things with new eyes and open awe. He’s happy that he forgot much of himself, even for a time, that he could experience it all new again. The past should serve the future. This seems to be a mentality he shared with Monomon, who when she herself is ‘the past’, is actively motivated and seeks to disable her protections and help Ghost end her life in order to ensure a future- the very reason she became a Dreamer in the first place.

Quirrel’s entire story is about letting go. I don’t personally read his conclusion as an act of suicide, but rather, the symbolic death of Quirrel the Archivist- the last tie he had to his former life. So he plants his nail on the shores of the lake, and leaves to be a new person- to see what comes next with new eyes. He cared about Monomon too much to not carry her with him, to not come back to see her off, but with that done, what he did as part of this ancient magical kingdom really doesn’t matter to him anymore. The people he cared about are gone. He’s going to look forwards and move on.

Assuming he encounters Lemm specifically after this point, this would scientifically speaking drive Lemm up the fucking wall.

Quirrel doesn’t tell and Lemm usually doesn’t ask but that idiosyncratic habit of just spouting off knowledge of ancient worlds and people and shrugging it off, like, well, that’s an interesting anecdote isn’t it! and Lemm is just, no, come back here you bastard don’t depart on a tangent about wrought iron infrastructure this is my lifework we’re talking about.

It’d be a certain amount of comedy but in another sense they have great potential to learn from each other. Quirrel very much surrenders unto the flow in many ways- which is powerful in that it’s probably protected him from the plague for a long time, his ability to let go rather than being tempted down dangerous paths by stray dreams- but, also, it’s clear from his voice and body language that losing Monomon cost him more than he wants to examine; his willingness to move on might be him being a bit dismissive about his own grief.

Lemm, meanwhile, has maybe spent his entire life up to this point doubling down so hard that he’s broken friendships, estranged family, and pissed off colleagues. This stuff has to matter. Someone has to listen to him. He has to know who these people are that disappeared off into the world because it isn’t just as good as they weren’t there! They knew things! They changed things! They did SOMETHING and if no one else wrote it down, he guesses that’s his job! It’s the only way he knows how to care about things.

So Quirrel lets go a little too much, including things he’s not actually over, and Lemm clings to things to such a degree that it seems to have driven him to isolation, even when he’s happier with someone to talk to about his work.

Also one of them’s a samurai and the other’s a self-taught pugilist who isn’t above cracking some skulls and shells with weighty antiques so if you happen to end up on the wrong end of both of them at the same time, heaven help you. 

Possibly, at some point, Quirrel concedes the Madam probably wouldn’t have wanted her archive to rot when the living could make use of it and starts a transcribing project and Lemm goes absolutely fucking ape.

#Hollow Knight #Relic Seeker Lemm #Quirrel #readmore #enbywilt

[meetthetank]

Cruciamen Chapter 11: A Touch of Honey

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Other Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), Emil (NieR: Automata), Kainé (Nier) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, genre typical violence, On the Run, Monster of the Week, 9S is a half demon, 2B and A2 are shapeshifter Dragons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut in the future, inaccurate depictions of medical procedures, Fantasy Biology, A2 is Nonbinary Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104214/chapters/79358422

The art in the thick, leatherbound tome is unlike anything A2 has seen before. Great warriors, their mighty weapons, and the monsters they slew dance across the page and intermingle with the precisely placed text. They run their bandaged fingers over the linework and imagine the rough splinters of the carved woodblock. Each image is rendered with exquisite detail and transferred to the page with expert skill. The ink doesn’t even smear when they touch it.

The door to their sickroom swings open. A4 strides in, black curls bouncing with each step, carrying a basket of supplies and a plate of food. The dry beige stuff, “bread” and soft yellow stuff, “cheese” have been mostly replaced by fresh fruits, but there’s still small pieces of both hidden underneath. The nun regards A2 with a bright smile that makes her emerald eyes shine. For the past three days she’s greeted them this way, always the same smile, the same twinkle in her eyes. It’s weird, but A2 doesn’t mind.

“I didn’t take you for a scholar,” she says, placing her basket down and coming to their bedside. “Oh, no offense.” A4 scans the page open on A2’s lap, then sighs wistfully. “I always love this story. The Sword Saint is one of my favorite heroes. What about you?”

A2 blinks, their expression neutral. “I can’t read it. I just think the pictures are cool.”

“Oh.” The nun turns her head and makes a strange coughing noise. When she turns back her face is red, making the smattering of freckles across her cheeks stand out.

“What?”

“Nothing!” A4 yelps. “Just ah-... Dry throat is all.”

“Okay…” A2 mutters.

“What’s your favorite picture then?” A4 asks, eager to change the subject.

Their expression lightens a bit. “The weapons.”

“Oh, really?”

A2 nods. “Yeah. Never seen some of these before. They look cool.” Their fingers trace across an image of a wicked looking serrated blade. “Back home, the elders said that weapons told stories. I never believed it as a cub, weapons couldn’t talk.”

“Interesting,” A4 muses. She looks at them, lying in bed, clearly bored out of their skull. Their leg bounces under the covers, their eyes dart around only to settle on her face for a few moments, then find something else to be interested in. The book is long forgotten, and A4 guesses that sitting here telling stories would be as ineffective as trying to get them to change their bandages regularly. Then,  suddenly claps her hands together.“I have an idea!”

They close the book and tilt their head to the side. “Huh?”

“I bet you’re tired of walking around the infirmary. I could take you around some of the other buildings, if you’d like.”

A2 grumbles to themself. Though they feel better after walking with A4, they despise being led around like a lost cub. Not even the prospect of new scenery will change their attitude.

“There’s lots of sculptures and art, and even relic weapons I could show you,” she says with a coy smile.

That… gets their attention. “... When are we going?”

“Whenever you’re ready, I think.” 

A4 offers her hand out to A2 to help them out of bed. They wrap their bandaged fingers around hers and allow themself to be pulled up. Though the sharp pains and aches that ravaged their body have dulled, they still wince and hiss under their breath as they stand. Parts of their skin, particularly in their shoulders, elbows, lower back, and legs, feel too tight, as if their bones are a tanning rack. A4 places a worried hand on their shoulder. They give a dismissive wave but don’t reject the touch. 

“I’m fine,” A2 says, forcing themself to stand as tall as they can. “Just a bit stiff.”

The nun sticks by their side as they leave the infirmary. A2 grumbles that they’re not about to fall over, but A4 remains adamant that she’s here in case they need some support. They glance around at the other rooms that happen to have the doors open. There aren’t many other patients housed here; A2 counts at least three or four patients and one other nun. This place must not get many visitors, or much outside aid for that matter.

The sun blinds them temporarily as they step onto the worn path that leads from the infirmary to the rest of the convent’s grounds. Straight ahead is an old stone chapel, decorated with symbols and iconography A2 recognizes from the book they were reading. Immediately left of that is a building similar in structure to the infirmary from which other nuns come in and out. The scents of unfamiliar foods drifts out of the open windows, and A4 giggles when A2 stares at the building as they pass.

As they approach the living quarters and the chapel, A2 notices a distinct change in the atmosphere around them. There’s an energy in the air that sends a chill up their spine, something unseen that makes the downy feathers beneath their hair prick up. 

A4, noticing their tension, puts a hand on their shoulder.

“What is that?” they ask, stormy eyes darting around in search of a threat. “Something’s weird here.”

“It’s the blessed grounds,” A4 explains. “The area surrounding the chapel and our dormitory have been consecrated to ward against demons and other creatures.” 

A2 nods along, not understanding at all. At least this place has some kind of protection. The only thing preventing an invasion is The Bog to the north and dense woods to the south. A fence or stones would be preferable, but a magical barrier will do, they suppose.

A4 brings them to the chapel first. She stops in front of the heavy wooden doors with A2 by her side and clasps her hands together in front of her chest. Though she mutters a prayer in a language A2 does not recognize, they can tell the words are full of reverence. She bows her head, makes motions across her body with her hands, then leans forward as far as possible in an exaggerated bow. A2 stands and stares, unsure if they should be following along or not. They fold their hands clumsily, only for A4 to giggle at them once again. Heat floods their face and they cross their arms over their chest with an indignant huff. 

She pushes the doors open much more easily than A2 thought she would. Cool air laden with fragrant incense rushes out and rustles their hair. There’s barely any light inside, only the sun’s rays and a few candles illuminate the interior of the old building, but it’s enough for the colorful glass windows to shine in brilliant greens, reds, and blues. They follow A4 with their head on a swivel, trying in vain to take in everything around them. Each window has an image inside it of different colored glass, giving the depictions of strange beings and holy figures an otherworldly quality. In between each window are statues depicting all manner of weird and awe-inspiring creatures. There are many beings that seem to defy the laws of nature, each one brandishing instruments of war such as swords, spears, and great shields. One winged creature with a long, featureless face that ends in a point unnerves A2. Despite it having no eyes, it seems to stare at them. 

“What are these…” A2 murmurs, finding themself staying close to A4.

“Angels,” she explains, slowing her pace to match A2’s

They shiver. “I didn’t think they would look so…” So much like demons? They don’t dare say that aloud. “... Monstrous.”

A4 giggles. “Angels and other heavenly bodies aren’t from this world.”

“Oh.” They scuff their shoes against the stone floor, feeling a little silly. Of course they wouldn’t be from this world. “Where are they from? Has anyone seen an angel before?” 

They don’t mean to be rude, they’re only curious, but the frown that sours A4’s soft features makes them rethink asking questions like that again.

“We call their world Paradise,” she says, forcing her expression to be neutral again. “There are a number of thinkers that theorize that it’s somewhere high above the clouds or among the stars. The few times we have seen angels, they’ve descended from the sky.” She sighs and thumbs the fabric of her dress. “It’s... been a long time since anyone has seen an angel. The last recorded sighting was during the time of the Hellwalker, thousands of years ago.”

A2 hums and searches for anything to change the subject. A statue close to the small altar catches their attention. An armored human, or something that used to be human, holds out his arms as an angelic warrior erupts from his split chest. Though graphic and morbid (the scene sends chills down A2’s spine), none of the more gruesome details are rendered in the stone. Even the human with his chest agape seems to be enraptured by the holy warrior emerging from his decimated body.

“Wh-” 

They stop short of asking about the sculpture, but ever observant, A4’s head whips around to face them. She looks from their face to the statue and back again, easily piecing together the question A2 was about to ask.

“This was Saint Agustus, an Ascended,” she explains. “Exceptional people of the Faith are sometimes chosen by the Bishops to give up their body to an angel. They become holy vessels of divine will.”

A2 only nods along, watching as A4 clutches a charm that dangles from their prayer bead necklace. They can’t make out the shape, but it looks like a similar design to what the statue of Saint Augustus has tied to his belt. Before A4 can catch them staring they avert their eyes, making sure not to linger on anything for too long. The last thing they want to do is make this sweet nun feel like she has to educate them on every aspect of the Faith.

“The weapons look cool,” they say in a desperate attempt to avoid any prying religious based questions.

It seems to work, as A4 smiles. “They are, but the real ones are even cooler.” For the first time since coming into the chapel, she looks genuinely excited. It’s infectious; A2 can’t stop themself from grinning as well. “Would you like to see some?”

All A2 has to do is nod once for A4 to grab their hand and lead them through the chapel and down a stairwell. A few other nuns scowl at her but it doesn’t seem to bother A4 in the slightest; in fact she seems to smile wider once she does notice. That little act of mischief from the woman A2 thought was a good and pious girl makes her smirk, just a bit.

Another set of oaken doors separate the basement of the chapel, used for storing unused furniture and holiday paraphernalia, from the Order’s armory. The array and variety of weapons is impressive enough, but the decoration and detail on their ornaments is dazzling. Each sword, spear, axe, mace, and bow is embellished with holy symbols, geometric designs, and mosaics of brilliant gems and stones. A massive sword in a glass case catches A2’s eye. Its intricate lattice work and inlaid jewels outline the polished and gilded blade. It’s ostentatious and far too gaudy for their tastes, but A2 can’t deny that it’s impressive.

“That’s Teresa’s Ecstasy,” A4 explains. “Or, a replica of it.”

“Cool…” A2 says, staring at the sword with wide, awestruck eyes.

A4 goes around and gives a little lesson on each weapon or replica and who used it. Teresa’s Ecstasy might be the largest and shiniest, but the brutal headsman axes wielded by Holy Executioners would be their choice out of the lot, hypothetically. There’s a pair of swords that look strangely familiar to A2, two serrated black iron swords devoid of the elaborate decorations or the others. A4 explains them to be the favored weapons of someone known as the Sword Saint.

“This is what I take into battle,” A4 says and takes what A2 thought to be a censer off of a rack, but it is adorned with the wicked blades and spikes of a flail. “I burn a sacred herb inside that emits a smoke that suffocates demons.”

She demonstrates her skills with several wide sweeps and a downward strike to finish. A2 steps back to give her room to swing the flail. It almost looks like a dance and it astounds them that A4 doesn’t lose control of the weapon and smack herself in the face with it. It's enchanting in a way they didn’t expect, and they find themself watching her with enough intensity that when A4 catches them staring, her face flushes red and she falters, allowing the golden chain to catch on her arm. She sputters a half explanation, half apology as she hangs the thurible back on its rack. 

A4 clears her throat. “S-so. Which one would you pick?”

They can’t help but smile. Her question carries the same excited innocence that a child has when asking a friend what their favorite lizard is. A2 scans the racks and shelves filled with weapons, relics, and replicas. Most of these are far too flashy or strange for them to latch onto, but there is a rack of simple wooden weapons. At first they mistake them for harmless training weapons, but one catches their eye. They pick up a heavy dark oak club with spikes crudely hammered into the rounded end. It’s hefty, top-heavy, yet well balanced and cruel. They give it a practice swing, then a more powerful one and smirk at the simple brutality of the spiked club.

“This one. If I didn’t have my sword, of course.”

She giggles. “I thought you might pick the Club of Saint Gertrude.”

A2 decides that Saint Gertrude had good taste. They set the club back in its place with much more reverence than before. 

The pair don’t stay down in the armory for very long. An older nun whom A4 refers to as Sister Beatrice (who also lingers behind them as they leave) scolds them for playing around with holy relics. A4 tries to defend herself but quickly absconds with A2 in tow before the old woman could get too angry. As they exit the chapel and A2 has to walk past the statues and windows once more, they can’t shake a certain observation of the convent’s art and iconography that sticks in their mind. Everything here, despite being holy and images of purity, is very... sexual. Even the people or demons being skewered or torn apart have expressions of pure ecstasy and pleasure. They shove the thought away as they and A4 exit the chapel and the fresh air fills their lungs.

Along with the calming scents of grass and the woods, something else catches A2’s attention. A savory smell, like searing meat but not as sharp or oily, drifts from the building A4 had identified as the dormitory. It’s a wholly unknown scent to them, but it makes their mouth water nonetheless. Thankfully that building is A4’s next destination. 

Since there’s no ritual she needs to perform for entering the living quarters, A4 walks right through the much less ornate wooden door, holding it open for A2. The entryway is sparsely decorated: only wide, featureless windows that let in natural light and potted plants of various kinds sit among neatly lined pairs of boots. Other belongings and clothes sit on small tables and vanities near the door: several woven black shawls, prayer beads, and simple leather satchels. It’s hard to tell just how many nuns live here, but A2 figures at least twenty based on how many pairs of boots they can see. 

A4 leads them through the halls of the dormitory, which is relatively uninteresting aside from the different paintings of what A2 assumes to be saints that adorn the walls every so often. The smell grows stronger and stronger until they reach a large, open kitchen and dining area. Well-used pots and pans hang from the rafters, a pot of water boils on an oven with a small cookfire crackling inside, and plates of breads and cheeses sit on the center table, ready for lunch time. 

The young nun bustles back and forth, checking on the pot of something she calls “pasta” that boils on the stove while A2 idly examines the different foods lying about. Some of them they recognize, like cloves of garlic, from the witch’s house. Others they have to sneak a bite of to decide whether or not they like it. Most of the powders and dried plants are far too strong, and it takes all of their self control not to vomit after biting into a thin stick of… something.

A2 finally comes to the loaves of bread that have a white decoration on top of them arranged neatly on a tray. While A4 fusses with organizing some utensils and complaining about how messy one of the other nuns is, A2 picks up a small loaf. It’s much softer than they expected, and denser. It must be a different kind than the ones A4 brings them. It crumbles easily when they roll a piece between their fingers. The white decoration turns to a sticky liquid when they touch it. Cautiously, they take a bite.

It only takes two bites for A2 to eat the whole loaf. 

Whatever this is has to be the sweetest, most amazing thing A2 has ever put in their mouth. It reminds them vaguely of honey, a rare treat back home, but with so much more added to it. They taste a bit of fruit and some of the spices they had sampled in there as well. Suddenly they feel like they’ve been missing out on so much of the world, a feeling that causes tears to well up in their eyes. 

A4’s laughter snaps them out of their religious experience. They try to wipe their eyes as nonchalantly as possible, but the nun sees right through their ruse.

“I never thought anyone would react like that to my baking,” she says, smiling from ear to ear.

“Y-...” A2 looks at her with wide eyes, “You made that?”

“Yes,” she giggles. “It was one of the first things I learned to bake. It’s sweet bread.”

A2 thinks they might like this place after all. They reach for a second loaf only for A4 to smack their hand.

“Hey! Save some for the rest of us!” she scolds them, but the smile plastered across her face lets them know there’s no malice at all. A4 leans in close to A2 and drops her voice to a whisper, “If you cooperate with your treatments and behave yourself I can sneak you some.”

Her excitement is infectious. A pleasant warmth rushes through A2’s body as they laugh with her. “Okay, deal.”

...When was the last time they felt like this?

They don’t linger in the kitchen for very long. A4 tugs them along by the hand once again, eager to have A2 meet her mentor at the convent (or to get them away from the food). She says this is the final stop of their tour, which comes as a secret relief to A2. Their legs and arms are starting to ache and despite eating an entire loaf of sweet bread they want to lie in bed for a few hours. Even walking through the dormitory halls takes the wind out of them. They try to hide it as best they can, but A4 gives them a concerned look when she hears them wheeze.

The final stop turns out to be the dormitory’s infirmary. Why the nuns have their own separate medical wing confuses A2, but the group seems eager to keep outsiders away, considering all the strange looks A2 has been on the receiving end. The room is devoid of people aside from two older women. One wears the same plain black dress and white headscarf that the other nuns wear. She hunches over a much more decrepit woman, dressed in a black robe with an intricate geometric pattern on the front, denoting a higher rank, and tends to a wound on her face. As A2 walks closer, they can smell a harsh potion similar to what A4 has been giving them to clean their sores. 

“Sister Margaret!” A4 calls and waves, then bows to the older old woman. “Good afternoon, Mother Superior.”

“Good afternoon, sister,” both women answer in unison.

A2 gives a shaky wave, standing behind A4 as if this tiny woman would protect them from awkward social encounters. 

“Is this the girl we rescued from the Bog?” Sister Margaret asks, only sparing a glance at A2 before turning back to the wounds on Mother Superior’s face.

They’re about to chime in with their usual response to that assumption, but their words catch in their throat as Mother Superior turns to face them, allowing A2 to see the full extent of her disfigurement. 

Her eyes are gone. The only thing that remains are her eyelids, sewn shut, and two circles of thick scar tissue over them. Sister Margaret gently dabs a sharp-smelling cream over the wounds. 

“Speak, child,” Mother Superior says, her voice severe but worn with age. “Does my penance frighten you?”

“P-...” A2 stammers, their aloof personality vanishing in an instant, “Penance?”

“Mother please.” Sister Margaret playfully taps her elder on the shoulder. “Don’t scare the poor girl.”

A4, Sister Margaret, and Mother Superior chat while Maragret finishes up with her treatments. The three women all seem to get along, from A2’s perspective, but A4 and Margaret seem far closer. A2 lingers on the edge of the group, waiting for and dreading when attention turns back to them. All the while, they can’t stop looking at Mother Superior and her wounds. The word “penance” echoes in their head over and over and over. They see an iron mask sitting beside the matriarch and swallow a lump forming in their throat.

It isn’t long before Mother Superior stands to leave. She waves her goodbyes, A4 and Sister Margaret bow in return, and the old woman hobbles out of the infirmary, leaning on a wooden cane for support and navigation. 

As soon as Mother Superior exits the room, Sister Margaret claps her hands together and approaches A2. “Now! Let's take a look at you…”

This woman has no sense of personal space, A2 thinks. She pulls at their lips to check their teeth, runs her wrinkled hands over their scales and bandages, digs through their hair like she’s looking for ticks, and holds their eyelids open to examine them. They let out a low, annoyed hiss, but allow the old nun to pick them apart like an experiment.

“Looks like you’re doing a good job so far, 4!” Sister Margaret praises. A4 beams with pride. “Keep up with fresh fruit as her main diet, change the bandages daily or more if needed. How are you feeling? Be honest, girl.”

“Uh- I’m not…” They stop, unsure if correcting Sister Margaret about their gender would cause problems. “I’m... still sore. Get tired easily. Get sick if I eat too much.”

Sister Margaret and A4 nod in exactly the same way. “Well,” Margaret begins, “Rest, walks, and a proper diet should put your humors back in check. Don’t keep your condition a secret, there’s no room for the sin of pride in these walls.”

A2 nods, then suddenly chokes on their own spit as Margaret grabs at their upper arm and squeezes their bicep. 

“Hooo boy!” she hoots, giving their arm another squeeze, seemingly pleased by how hard the muscle is. “She’s something alright!” Margaret turns to A4, whose face already begins to flush red. “I’ll say this, if she cleaned up, she’d be a snack and a half!”

She laughs at the red faced A4, while A2 stands there with the blank stare of a confused cub.

#nier automata #nier #nier automata fanfiction #A2 #fantasy au #fanfiction #tank in the real

[headcanonrepository]

I have a lot of thoughts about Neo. She's an amazing character to theorycraft about given that we still know next to nothing about her even after all this time! And my wife and I steadfastly refuse to believe that what we see is all that's going on with her (come on, her whole thing is manipulating her image, you can't just read her at face value!). So here's a bit of a masterpost of our predictions/theories about what she's doing and why:

Until the fall of Beacon, it's pretty obvious what she's doing and why so I won't go into too many details. She's Roman's trusted right hand woman, she's obviously very loyal to him for reasons we can only guess at but One Thing hinted at him finding her on her own and taking her in. (Which would be interesting if the show contrasted that past against Cinder's, Nora's and Emerald's...they're really fond of orphan girls developing co-dependent relationships with the first person to show them a crumb of kindness, huh? Anyway, that's another post)

Everything she does for Cinder at Beacon is following Roman's instructions. I'd like to think he had an exit strategy that didn't involve being Grimm chow, but we didn't get to know anything about it. Either way, they are so close to being done with this and then Roman's 'death' happens (not to beat a dead horse but as I’ve said before, if the Hound is a person, it makes more narrative sense that it's Roman and until I see some concrete proof, I'm going with supposed death. Either way, the important thing is that Neo thinks he's dead)

So Neo is pissed. She wants revenge. And Cinder is absolutely at blame, her plan got Roman killed. Neo tracks her down with a little help from the criminal underworld and has Cinder on the ropes until she pulls out the maiden card. It’s worth noting that throughout that fight, the cinematography makes sure that we see Neo noticing both Cinder’s bandaged (Grimm) arm and her subtle manifesting of the maiden powers (fiery punch) before she actually relies on maiden powers to stop the fight. 

Cinder tries to persuade Neo that Ruby is who she should really want to kill. Now, I don't think Neo believes that for a second. She keeps fighting Cinder after her first attempt to shift the blame onto Ruby, only stopping after Cinder uses a blatant display of power Neo can’t or won’t match. My guess is either: she realized that if Cinder drew on her full power, she wasn't going to win OR she realized that her true target is whoever/whatever controls the Grimm and Cinder isn't it. Potentially both, with Cinder still being a target for revenge but only after the bigger problem is dealt with.

So she seemingly teams up with Cinder to get information/lull her into a false sense of security. And she gets a lot of information very quickly - Cinder tells her about the relics and maidens and Salem pretty much immediately in Haven vault. (Cinder really underestimates people if she thinks they’re on her side and if that isn’t going to bite her in the ass this season, I’ll be very surprised. Probably won’t be Neo, but her treatment of Emerald has been a problem for a while and that’s got to hit a breaking point soon)

They get to Atlas and bide their time/gather information until they find out where the relic is and how to get it. Neo makes a point of 'telling' Cinder she wants to go after Ruby but after being told no, she doesn't push it any further. At this point, Neo knows where Ruby is and had a great opportunity to go after her if that's really what she wanted. And at any point after the dinner party, she could have split from Cinder to go after Ruby if she wanted to. She hasn't.

She gets the relic for Cinder. She toys with ORNJ in the process but her main aim isn't to kill. She’s literally fighting with one hand behind her back at one point. In fact, she hangs around much longer than she had to, she swiped the relic off Oscar off screen appearing as ‘someone else’ - she could have made off with it without a confrontation at all. She hung around so everyone got a good look at her and knew she was there. Nora even identified her. Almost like she wants the good guys to know what she's doing and who is doing it. Then she goes. (Random thought: I know CRWBY have said the ‘Oscar punch’ was an animation error but what if that literally is Neo ‘showing her face’ in the least suspicious way possible and CRWBY don’t want to say it because it’s too much of a spoiler?)

Cinder doesn't seem appreciative of her actions and dismisses her contributions and she appears put out by it. I suspect that's more for Cinder's benefit - a lack of any reaction might be suspicious.

Cinder and Neo deliver the relic to Salem and from here on out, every whale scene Neo does as little as possible to draw attention to herself, staying out of Salem's notice, standing off to the side or behind Cinder, doing nothing to draw suspicion...but she's watching and listening in every scene. 

She doesn't want Cinder to go after Penny, but winds up going anyway when it looks unavoidable. In the resulting fight with Maria, Neo comes off as she isn't even trying; she's slower than usual, less lethal. I believe it's plausible deniability for not helping Cinder - she was busy. But she did make it super clear to Maria that she knows who Ruby is, and Maria is alive to communicate that at some point. Neo only gets the upper hand when Maria is distracted by Penny’s fall (or to see it another way, when Cinder has enough free time to pay a second of attention to the other fight in the room and see that Neo isn’t really trying).

So Neo doesn’t want to be there. And she doesn’t want to help Cinder out once she is there. Why not? Either she's still after revenge against Cinder and giving Cinder more power (via winter maiden) wouldn't help that and/or Salem said no and Neo is trying to be as passive and non-confrontational as possible to slip under the radar while she gathers information on Salem. My money is on both. 

If Cinder had had Neo and Emerald's full help against Penny, I don't think Penny would still be around. And that would mean the Winter Maiden powers would be with either Cinder (bad for revenge), Emerald (Cinder would just kill Emerald, leading back to option 1) or Neo (Cinder would try to kill Neo and while Neo might be able to escape, she's got a massive target on her back and she'll not be able to get information on or plot against Salem anymore, which would be bad for revenge in a different way).

What does this mean for the future? Well, Neo is going to keep pretending to be on side until she either has information or an opportunity to mess up all of Salem’s plans. She knows Salem needs the relics. I could see her breaking Oscar out and sending him on his way with the lamp at some point (and TBH, I would love to see what the main guys make of that and how they try to rationalize her behaviour). Or she could use the rifts forming in Salem’s team to undermine Salem’s plans (but I think Oscar is already on that one). Or she could be waiting a lot longer before taking action. 

Basically, there's only two ways I can rationalize Neo's fluctuating character motivations and abilities. Either a) CRWBY aren't thinking about her as much as I am or b) Neo is playing a very long game of revenge. After all, it's best served cold, like ice cream! ;)

Until I know for certain otherwise, I'm going to believe it's b.

#rwby volume 8 spoilers #rwby8 spoilers #rwby theory #rwby spoilers #long post #neopolitan #and don't worry #I saved clown makeup incase CRWBY really do intend for us to take this at face value #but the best part of theorycrafting is that if I'm wrong #I do have a whole fanfic outline right here to make the best AU

[charlierejouis]

My Cautious Optimism Towards the EDENS ZERO Anime

Well, the Edens Zero anime is almost here. We knew that it was going to come eventually, even before the announcement came. But it's weird to think of how close it actually is. I've seen a lot of thoughts surrounding the anime. While the reactions of people who don't like Mashima are predictable, there's a lot of concern coming from fans about how this will go. I've gone on record saying that I'm cautiously optimistic about the anime. While we're waiting for it to (officially) air, I want to share why.

Let's start with the positives.

When I heard that EZ was going to be animated, I didn't have high hopes for a studio. There was no way we were getting Shaft or David Production to animate this studio. I figured that a smaller name studio that has produced competent work would pick up the project. I threw out names like Studio Shuka or Studio Deen, responsible for animating Rave, as possibilities. I was surprised to see that it went to J.C. Staff.

I know that people were disappointed to see JC Staff considering their lackluster work on the second season of One Punch Man. But it feels unfair to judge the studio on just one production. The first season was the result of talented artists working under a great director. Both seemed to be unavailable working on another show to air the same season. We were never going to get anywhere near the same level of anime.

JC Staff has proven themselves to be great at adaptation. They've produced plenty of popular high-quality series. They were responsible for some of the best romantic dramedies of the past few decades in Toradora, Golden Time, and The Pet Girl of Sakurasou. They've handled popular Shonen Jump titles in Bakuman and Food Wars. In the way of action, their more recent work on DanMachi is a good sign that the studio has the talent.

There are a few specific names that I'm excited to see working on this project. First and foremost is Shinji Ishihira. Fans of Fairy Tail will recognize him as the man responsible for directing the series. Even as he's only serving as chief director, it's great to see that he'll be influencing this project. I loved seeing the additions he made to Fairy Tail in anime and it's great to see that he'll be working with Mashima on some level.

Outside of directing Fairy Tail, he's directed several other series, including Log Horizon which just got a third season. Though, his big claim to fame is his storyboards. Naturally, he's done storyboards for some of the series he's directed, including Fairy Tail. However, he's also done the storyboards for other big projects. Let's put it this way. He's done storyboards for some of the biggest episodes for Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and My Hero Academia. I think he deserves more respect than people are willing to give "Fairy Tail's director".

Next is the show's composer. There were a lot of guesses as to who would get the nod. Most people figured that it would be Hiroyuki Sawano or Yasuharu Takanashi, teaming up with Ishihira for another project. Personally, I wanted Michiru Oshima to do the score because no one writes for an orchestra like her. Somehow, we got someone else: Yoshihisa Hirano. His work on Death Note and Hunter x Hunter is amazing and I can't wait to hear what's in store for Edens Zero.

On the voice acting side, Rie Kugimuya has come back to voice this version of Happy. And Sayara Ohara joins the cast to voice Elsie. Stuff like this tells me that there is a recognition of how this universe is at least somewhat tied to Fairy Tail and I’m not terribly against it. However, I'm particularly interested in the choice of Rebecca's voice actor. Fans of Re: Zero may recognize her as the voice of Minerva, Witch of Wrath.

Even glimpses of the anime are enough to get me excited. The opening and ending do well to reference future events and current powers and abilities. The ending even directly borrows images from covers. They even addressed a somewhat serious concern I had in Rebecca's ether signature being blue. (Though I wish it was a darker shade.)

So, why the caution? At least, two big things: production staff and Netflix.

You know how I was praising the staff for their past efforts? Those things don't necessarily entail an anime's success. Plenty of great creators have gone to make anime that don't live up to their name. 

If you think I'm wrong, consider the case of Boogiepop and Others. The reason JC Staff handled One Punch Man's second season was that the people from the original staff went to work on another series. While it wasn't a bad anime, by any means, it was a disappointment to many. It hasn't had as much impact as other shows from the same season. (For reference, it premiered the same season as Kaguya-sama: Love is War and Rising of the Shield Hero among others.)

But a bit more troubling is its streaming platform. I'll have the opportunity to watch it as it airs through Hulu in the States. But the vast majority of anime fans will have to wait until the show is available on Netflix. Netflix's "all at once" model has been known to kill the hype behind the anime it licenses. Much of the fun of watching seasonal anime is watching it and engaging in discussion with others as it airs. This will be lost for many people watching the show.

At the same time, maybe I'm overreacting. Seven Deadly Sins, which also came from Weekly Shonen Magazine was one of Netflix's first anime license pickups. It's been one of the most popular shonen action series. (certain things notwithstanding) And much of this staff has proven themselves to be reliable. Many seem to be excited to work on this series.

I just hope that this anime adaptation is good. I don't know that we'll get an adaptation that is better than the manga, and I'm not sure I want one. I don't know if this will be the series that gets people to actually respect Mashima's writing. All I want is an adaptation better than a glorified slide show. I already like the first ED which was done with HoneyWorks and hope similar songs come from this show. 

People have thrown around 25 episodes as the estimated length. I'd say that's enough to get to the end of the Digitalis arc. If they get another cour, Sun Jewel would be a good stopping point. I personally would have liked to see a long-running anime adaptation. However, as Black Clover has ended recently, I have to accept this will be a relic of the past era of anime.

In Conclusion:

There’s a lot of good things to be excited over with the EZ’s anime coming. Though, I’m worried about how it will go, I want to believe that things will work out well.

#edens zero #no more tags bye

[calliecat93]

Well we have a trailer folks... and it has left me terrified. In a good way. I have been hyped for volumes before, but MAN this kind of hope has me on edge. We know that we’re in for something massive, and I am afraid yet excited! The volume is planned to start November 7th (with possible changes) so we’ve got plenty of time to speculate. SO let us see what the trailer gave us and do some fun speculation about what may be happening. Remember, this is for fun.

We see Salem on a throne... and from how it looks, she may be inside the whale. You can see the teeth. Just to further this, here is a pic form a later point int he trailer.

Yeah. I guess she could be on top of it though, but I’m assuming inside and the Whale Grimm is like some kind of transport Grimm. We;ll talk more about the Relic later, though it does confirm at least to me that indeed Cinder will give it to her and it’ll put her back into Salem’s good graces. We’ll also talk about Cinder when we get to The Relic.

Over this, we hear Ruby talking. Salem is no longer hiding. Once she is done with Atlas she will turn tot he rest of Remnant. It sounds like Ruby is reasoning that they have to warn the rest of the Kingdoms. This could lead to them maybe trying to find a way to take control of Amity and finish it to restore communications. But... I also have another plausible theory.

Over the next few clips, we hear Ren and Nora talking. Ren is arguing that Mantle still needs them right this second, while Nora is arguing that the rest of the world is in danger. It sounds like the big conflict within the team si whether they remain to protect Mantle, or the rest of the world. Aka... whether they should abandon Mantle or not... just like they just fought with Ironwood about last volume... IDK though. I can’t see Nora doing that after how adament she was about Mantle last volume. It could just be them arguing on how to handle the two situations. But I do sense Renora drama incoming.

These likely all take place int he episode we already got sneak peaks for. My guess is that it’s probably episode 3-6. So we know that Yang, Jaune, Ren, and Oscar seem to be moving civilians and getting supplies. But what about Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Nora, and Penny?

It looks like they are up in Atlas. This might confirm my theory that they’re trying to get Amity running. Or it could be them trying to find Qrow and Robyn. Not sure. If I had to guess who they’re raising their weapons at, probably Ace Ops. I’ll talk about them later. Penny looks very taken aback, so if whoever the nemy is knows about Penny being the Maiden... yeah... nto good. But I am excited to see how Team RWBNP kick butt~

I imagine that Team YJRO and RWBNP will be happening int he same episode, or back to back episodes. If it’s the latter, the following scenes I believe will also be in the same episode as the previous image.

Chances are, Penny for whatever reason is reluctant to fight But some kind of ugly turn happens and she’s forced to go into Maiden mode. But it upsets her, and is why Ruby is hugging her. What would provoke it? Maybe something happened to Pietro. Maybe Ruby’s life was in danger. Maybe Ironwood appeared and said something to piss Penny off (like how she is meant to work for him, aka trying to reestablish his control). IDK. Either way, Penny’s gonna have a rough time.

Speaking of Ironwood...

He’s gotten a new prosthetic. This time black instead of grey. At this point, the only thing that’s still flesh that we know of is his head and like... one shoulder. The man is losing his humanity more and more, throwing away his heart. But you can also see Ace-Ops in another room. I am for certain that they are int here with Clover’s corpse. No, I don’t believe that Clover is coming back. Penny is the only dead character to return, and they explained hwy. Clover is dead people. I’m sorry, but he is. But it IS going to leave an impact...

We hear Ironwood get angry about one of his men (we don’t know who, but I am guessing Marrow) show concern about Mantle. It’s clear that Ironwood has deemed the city a lost cause and he could care less about it. Thus, his soldiers also have to not care about it. Harriet, Elm, and Vine look stoic... but something about Marrows expression to me conveys some sadness. Maybe it’s me hoping that he’s still going to have a change of heart since imo, he is still the most likely and has the best chance. I think that Clover’s death could push that, and maybe even the others even if they don’t want to say it. Or it could lead to their demise since it may just make them hate out heroes more.  We can only wait and see.

So finally, we come to the end of the video:

We hear Salem say that she has questions for the lamp... but she needs to find the one who can show her how. So it looks like Salem knows what the Relics can do, but not how to make them work. Interesting. So we see her hold the Relic to a Grimm. Now there’s been a lot of speculation about someone in the heroes getting kidnapped, mainly either Ruby or Oscar. After seeing this and going under the assumption hat this is some kind of hunter Grimm that can sniff anything out... I believe it’s going to be Oscar. Aside form Neo and Cinder, Oscar was the last to have the Relic for a long period of time. Also Cinder knows that Oscar houses Ozpin, which if she tells Salem will likely make her want him found even more. 

But I also doubt that Salem would send a Grimm alone to take Oscar. Especially if there are others there that can kill it. SO, let’s see... who would be a perfect person to send after the kid? I can't say for sure, Tyrian would probably be a good candidate. But if I can put forth another candidate...

Yeah, this may be Cinder's plot for the volume. Going after Oscar. I can absolutely be wrong, but IDT it’s implausible. She’s back in Salem’s good graces, so she’s either going to try and stay in it or eventually try to do her own thing again... you know,t he exact thing that got her into trouble to begin with. What'll his mean for Neo? FOr Emerald and Mercury if they appear? IDK. But I get the feeling that unlike the past few volumes, Cinder will score some kind of victory. Whether it be capture Oscar... or face down a certain little red. Eye for an eye, after all...

Anyways,t hat’s all we’ve got! Hopefully we may get osme more sneak peaks before November. IDK if they’re doing NYCC this year, but if so we may get more there. Regardless, the hype is real people. Gt ready if you want, but none of us will be ready for the chaos ahead.

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby spoilers

[pip-n-flinx]

Among Us

So this is going to get long, this is going to get personal, this is going to be about prejudice and race and self-serving bad-faith arguments and flawed rhetoric. And for all of these reasons I’m going to leave the rest of this under the cut.

As a few of my friends will know, earlier this week I was delivered an ultimatum from my landlord/roommate. He disguised it well, telling me he was ‘concerned for my mental health’ that my ‘negativity was dragging the whole house down’ and that I was simply too filthy to live with. I won’t pretend I’m a neat freak, and I can honestly say that I have taken some pains to clean more since, to his surprise and delight, though its particularly hard to take coming from him.

“You’re always so down. It’s making you lazy and thin skinned” You know its funny you should say that, now specifically, because I’ve actually been on the up and up this last week and you didn’t mention this at all in January when I was actually at my worst, or February when I was afraid I was going to have to quit my job, or back during the holiday season when retail work was breaking my back... Only now do you think to check in on me?

“You left a pair of gloves, a letter, and a small wooden trinket on the table!” Indeed I have, as you have left your pair of gloves, well over 21 letters, and regularly set your packages on this same table, including today two packages to be returned to amazon. I didn’t realize I didn’t get to use the table the same way you do.

“You don’t do dishes! except that you did this week, which is cool I guess but still!” You do realize that I actually hand-wash every dish I use within 24 hours of using it, right? And that often the dishes you come to me bitching that I never cleaned are in fact your fiances, yes? Ok good, next question.

“You’re always complaining about work. I don’t mind that you vent, but its all you talk about anymore!” I have either lost or walked away from 4 jobs in this last year, and that has not been easy, or fun. I have worked essential retail jobs the entire pandemic thus far. Additionally, in the months leading up to you storming out of your 75k a year salaried sales job, I had told you to leave it because I could see that it was killing you. You got so fed up with the job that for 4-5 months before you left your grandma-paid-off-my-second-mortgage capitalism-knows-best-pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps-ass spent more time playing valorant and league of legends on the clock than doing actual work. Need I remind you that every time I stepped into your office, or simply stepped upstairs to get ready for work, you would complain about how awful your managers were, or how shitty someone had been to you over the phone? DID I EVER BELITTLE YOU FOR ANY OF THESE THINGS????

The real kicker was that the spark, the moment that started this (at least for him) was me trying to explain why racism and ‘cultural supremecy’ was bad. I had brought to him something I thought we could both agree on, that we could both laugh at. I brought him a series of tweets about how problematic Van Gogh was for studying and imitating traditional japanese painting techniques. He took this, and immediately turned into a piece of the culture wars. Now, I agree, this is an egregious example of trying to ‘cancel’ someone. How cancelling a long dead artist who couldn’t sell his art while he was alive is important is beyond my comprehension, its not as though the market value of these comes up very often, and almost no-one will ever have a chance to buy or reject a Van Gogh. But to him this was emblematic of ‘liberals’ cancelling Seuss and Rowling.

He even went so far as to say that Van Gogh probably ‘did it better’ than the artists he was studying/imitating. Now, this is a huge red-flag to me because this is straight out of the Nazi playbook. This is William Shenker, proposing a theory of music to proof ‘German cultural superiority.’ This, if you will pardon my language, is the real culture war: trying to supplant other cultures art and history with western figures and events.

Now, for those of you who don’t know who I’m talking about, this man is sexist. He doesn’t believe women are equal, complains about women’s sports, and rejects a woman’s right to choose. This man is a transphobe, questioning the logic of ‘safe-spaces’ and allowing people to change their pronouns. This man is a Trump supporter, and voted for him twice. And all of these things I found out years after we became friends. I have in the past contemplated what it would take to cut him out of my life wholesale. Despite our wealth of shared experience and our shared interests, we’ve been drifting apart as he drifts further and further to the right. And he has been drifting. He’s parroted more bad-faith arguments from Ben Shapiro and Tucker Carlson in the last 6 months then he ever did when I first moved in with him.

I have been trying to push back, especially when he says the quiet parts out loud. I try to let him know that it is not acceptable to say he would rather an unarmed black man die that risk that a police officer might be injured. When he compares the people in control of Seuss’ intellectual property and works choose to stop printing less than 6% of his published works to the book burnings in Mao’s china. When he says that its more important to protect teacher from students trolling them by changing their pronouns than it is to protect trans or NB kids. When he espouses his belief that trans and NB kids are ‘just mentally ill.’ Whenever he says any of this shit, I have pushed back. I have tried to halt, or at least slow, his descent towards eugenics and white supremacy and fascism.

It has been to no avail.

And to be honest its exhausting. I wanted to believe that he would trust me, not just to be a moral and thoughtful person, but to be educated and informed on these issues. We went to school together, spent countless hours solving homework and trying to crack games together. If I don’t know the answer to his questions immediately, he often jokes ‘C’mon, you’re supposed to know everything!” and has frequently told me that I’m selling myself short.

But apparently all that trust and all that respect goes out the window when I challenge him. Suddenly I’m ‘overly negative’ or ‘too sensitive’ or he’ll ‘need to look into that, but...’

And the thing is, he is capable of great acts of kindness. He offered to rent me a room in his completely paid-off house, no mortgage at all, simply because he could see living at home was killing my mental health. He offered me 50-75% off of market rate. He buys gifts all the time, has landed tenants job interviews, set people back on their feet, and refused to press charges for several major financial loses he’s taken on the determination that it would do more harm to the defendant than he could ever recoup from it.

But he does not extend this kindness, this generous soul, to everyone. And lately, his circle grows smaller, and his kindess has waned, and it’s been so devastating to see him slip further and further towards his own worst impulses.

I know there will be people who think I should have cut him out of my life years ago, who can’t believe we never talked enough to know that he voted for Trump in 2016. I think back then he was genuinely ashamed, or at least guilty, about that vote. Now? It’s almost a matter of pride for him. I can’t tell you the number of times in the last 4 months that he’s told me that Biden “couldn’t possibly” be as “great” a President as Trump.

And he hides behind this “praise them when they do good, cuff them when they do bad” line and I used to take comfort in it but now... Now it’s clear that it was just a front or excuse for liking these abhorrent people.

I’ve had a couple of hard conversations with some of our mutual friends about what this means for me, and how I interract with the whole group of friends as a whole, in the last 3 days. None of our mutual friends seem to take any of these things as seriously as I do, with my oldest friend even telling me that he ‘can’t imagine’ breaking a friendship off over politics.... I know I know, the caucasity of it all, yes ha ha. And it does make me genuinely worried that I’ll wind up losing the 5-6 close friends that I actually rely on these days over this horrible sonuvabitch. But all this personal venting aside, there’s something bigger here I want to address:

I sat down this evening to watch Last Week Tonight and I was struck by this piece about Tucker Carlson, because while I knew some of what was said on his show, he is remarkably confident for a man who spouts the quiet parts of racism/sexism/homophobia on TV. I have a hard time imaging a more blatantly racist thing to do then declare that a woman who suggested ‘dismantling systems of oppression wherever they are found’ wants to dismantle the American system...

And I have to say, we should go back to punching Nazis. I want these fuckers afraid. I want them to crawl back to the furthest reaches of the internet, relegated to be laughed at for their bigotry by pundits of every political ideology. I want their vile vitriol hidden away where it doesn’t embolden others. I want them to know that they are out of line, out of touch, out of time. I want them to feel ashamed, like the relics of a bygone and worse era that they are, and for them to quietly fade to an ignominious death. I’m tired of seeing them on National News. I’m tired of Pewdiepie’s channel and influence refusing to die despite all the horrible things he’s said and done. I’m tired of Ben Shapiro spouting off about a woman’s place and rights, as if he has any fucking authority on the matter. I just want these people to lose their platforms and their followers. And for me the fact that they haven’t yet is so incredibly discouraging.

I know I didn’t offer any answers here I’m just tired of being alone with this defeated attitude and I guess I needed to get this off my chest as I try to disentangle myself from the losing battle of trying to save a friend from alt-right radicalization.

#tw/ white supremecy #tw/ sexism #tw/ racism #tw/ transphobia #wooow this got longer than I expected #meta: alt right radicalization #and how they're reaching people my age #plus a lot of personal venting

[bookandcranny]

Stone Heart Gambit

 Part 1 - Chapter 4

“Is it me, or is trying to walk down stairs in the dark kind of not fun.”

The librarian- the faerie, the liar, her friend- whatever he is to her now, he casts her a backwards glance and raises a hand, which begins to glow. It’s not like the light of a bulb or even a flame dancing on the wick of a candle, it’s like bottled daylight, the serene glow of a merry spring day. All Soso wants to do is stare at it, bask in it. It brightens the stairwell, but doesn’t make watching her step much easier. Surehouser grins knowingly at her. She huffs.

“Show off.”

Eventually she does manage to tear her eyes away and look around. The library basement is a proper dungeon. The stairs seem to go on forever, the stone walls are streaked with mildew, and as they delve deeper she notices tapestries and even an old battle-axe mounted on the walls. They’re marked with a variety of emblems, intricate and beautiful, but none the least bit familiar to her. Part of her wonders if it would change her opinion of them, knowing whether they are relics of the humans or the fae.

She’s still processing the overwhelming amount of information Surehouser has placed on her, the knowledge that not only are the creatures of myth real, but apparently are her ancestral enemies. Surehouser himself doesn’t seem bothered by it, so maybe she shouldn’t be either. After all this war he speaks of was so long ago that she can hardly conceive of it. On the other hand, for Adamantius, humankind’s champion, the wounds seem to be a lot fresher. He won, but it doesn’t sound like he got to reap many of the rewards.

That’s the part that puzzles her most. Both sides had to lay down their arms for the sake of creating peace, but she doesn’t understand why that would lead to Adamantius being sentenced so cruelly. If he was truly humanity’s saving grace during the war, why did no one before her come to rescue him?

The passageway opens onto a subterranean archive of sorts, which darkly mirrors the charming little library directly above it. The shelves here are far less welcoming, set in rigid lines like rows of headstones in a military cemetery. It’s lit from a above by hanging lanterns which flicker to life upon their entry, as if they were expecting the pair’s arrival. And still, the stairs don’t end, rather continue to a lower sublevel, and another below that, far further down than Soso can make out.

“How deep does it go?” she asks.

“As deep as you can imagine and deeper. There’s an entire floor set aside for illegal poisons, and a special wing for forbidden texts on summoning demons.” He isn’t quite gleeful as he says it, but neither does he seem properly horrified. Soso sure is.

“Why even keep all this stuff? Why not destroy it, if it’s so dangerous?”

“Everything you can find down here is a part of history,” he explains. “The darkest part of our shared history, but history none the less. So much knowledge was lost when the world was split, so much that most humans no longer even remember us outside of stories. The idea of sacrificing even more was unthinkable, and between you and me, I think some people feel better knowing they could theoretically still access this garbage should we ever go to war again.”

He walked through the aisles, pointing out spots of interest as he went. “Books of banned spellcraft here, manuals for the construction of basic torture tools, recipes for Gnomish explosives. Someday I must show you the section for djinn containment bottles, it’s quite the treat. Of course, you’ve already met the crown jewel of the entire collection.”

She resists the urge to argue the point again. She’s coming to suspect that he only brings the former gargoyle up to try and rile her, maybe trick her into confessing that this was all some plot of long-belated human vengeance after all.

“How did I not know about this?” she asks instead with a slight shiver. “How does no one know about any of this?”

“I wouldn’t say no one, but as for most, I think you can guess. It’s because it was better that way. When the human forces won and claimed our shared world as their own, the fae assembled a council of powerful magi to split the world and create the land of Underhill, where the fae could live peacefully, unseen in humanity’s shadow. Apart, each side was free to heal, free to forget the past. Still, not everyone has that luxury. Now you’re one of those in the know. How’s it feel?”

She swallows. “Kind of like riding a rollercoater with a full stomach.” She looks at the librarian. “How do you deal with it? How do you deal with having this huge secret just sitting inside you like dead weight?”

“Drinking mostly,” he says cheerfully. The joke falls flat. He sighs. “You know, before this I was living a wonderful carefree life in Underhill, enjoying all that the endless summer had to offer. Then I was told that because my family line descends from some faerie noble that was on the peace council nigh millennia ago, I was expected to live up to my pedigree. It was either take over watching the vault of wartime horrors or go into politics, and if there’s one thing I hate more than wasting away in this nothing town guarding a pile of dusty relics, it’s politics.”

“And they didn’t tell you ahead of time that the job included watching a prisoner of war who also just so happened to have razor-sharp teeth and horns?”

The man broaches this next subject carefully, uncertainty writ plainly on his face. “I knew about Adamantius- vaguely! I just didn’t expect that he would ever be quite so… alive.”

“Isn’t turning a soldier into some kind of life-size trophy post war against the Geneva convention?”

“It may seem cruel to you, but you must remember that he isn’t human. He may claim to be a son of man, but even the human side didn’t want him when they had nothing more for him to kill. He was built for destruction. He can’t be allowed to wander freely.” His voice takes on an uncharacteristically grim note. “As I understand it, the terms of the treaty exempted him from execution, but he was, and is, too dangerous to just be let go. This, this should have never happened.” He fidgets nervously. “But it has, which means, Soso, that a great burden, a great responsibility has fallen to you.”

She takes a reflexive step back. “Responsibility? Me? What am I supposed to do? Put him back in the rock?”

He shakes his head. “Perhaps there might still be a way, but for now, just keep him occupied. You set him free. That means, in his eyes, he owes you a debt greater than his very life. You are the only one who can control him. And you must, or he’ll be the end of us all.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, Adami might have some… quirks, but he’s not some mindless monster. He- he helped me.” Granted it had been because of him she had nearly passed out on the kitchen floor, but he had caught her and carried her to bed. He’d been gentle despite the sharp shape of him. “I think he wants to do right, he’s just sorta confused about what that means.”

“Are you claiming since he’s been awake he hasn’t done any harm,” he asks, disbelieving.

The image of clawmarks and frightened frat bros flashes through her mind. “Well…”

The man nods. “Come with me. I want to show you one last thing before we go up.”

Down they go to one of the lower lower-levels. Surehouser counts shelves and follows the cryptic keys until he finds a thick book of yellowed parchment. It’s almost too large for him to maneuver open on his own while keeping the ball of magic light aloft and the cover is inscribed in something that, to Soso’s inexperienced eyes, looks like a cross between German and Old English. Thankfully the inside looks to be more pictures than words. The illustrations remind Soso of the decorated margins of medieval bibles and bestiaries. The linguistic aspect may be lost on her, but art history had been one of her more preferred courses in school.

The design Surehouser flips to is much larger, taking up the bulk of both pages. It depicts armored soldiers being besieged upon by a familiar figure. Here, Adamantius is painted in red, making him look like a classic Christian devil. He’s tearing the retreating knights limb from limb, and smiling as he does it. Soso isn’t inclined to believe everything she reads in strange old books, but the altered likeness is disconcerting.

“He was called by many names back then, I’m told,” says Surehousr, breaking her thoughtful concentration. “When I first heard the story as a child, Adamantius the unmerciful was the popular title.”

Soso shakes her head. “I thought you said you were a neutral party,” she accuses. “You said it yourself, it was horrible for both sides. He was a soldier, not some gleeful mass-murderer.”

“Oh dear, do you still think there’s a difference?”

No more words are exchanged as they begin their ascent back up to the main floor. Soso is pensive, her head full of questions she doesn’t trust herself to voice. Not a day ago her biggest concern was building up the courage to talk to her parents, now she was supposed to be responsible for some sort of living breathing war machine? She doesn’t seem to have much choice other than to defer to the librarian’s relative expertise. After all he’s a real life faerie and until quite recently she hadn’t known that faeries existed. Still, the situation doesn’t sit right with her.

Adamantius is waiting where she left him in the doorway. He seems anxious, or as anxious as a formidable creature like him can be, and she wonders if he’s been like this ever since she left his sight. When he said he would stay by her side, she’d thought it was a sweet, if a little strange, declaration. She doesn’t know what to do with the reality of his dedication.

“Told you I’d be back,” she says, trying to keep her tone light. She shoots him a reassuring smile and it actually doesn’t feel as forced as she might’ve expected. Somehow, seeing him waiting for her is still a comfort to her. Maybe it’s all those days of spilling her guts to him in statue form. Somewhere in the back of her mind she can’t shake the feeling that this man is her friend, no matter what some people a thousand years ago had to say.

“I believed you,” he says lowly, casting a sideways glance at the librarian. “But faeries can be tricky.”

“Well I’m fine, and I’ve done some thinking too. Adamantius, I know you think you owe me something, but I don’t want you to serve me. Instead, if I ask you for a favor, can you please try your best to do it for me?”

Instantly the warrior lights up. If he had a tail he’s surely be wagging it, she imagines. “Anything. I would do anything to please you, Lady Willoughby.”

He’s missing the point, she thinks, but the enthusiasm is nice. With a great deal of caution, she takes his clawsome hands in her own. “Then here’s what I’m requesting. Stay here at the library with Mr Surehouser.”

Both of them look at her with alarm. “What?”

“I know there’s some bad blood between you two, but I consider you both my friends and I don’t want you to fight. Besides,” she admits. “I can’t really put you up at my place without someone finding out, and I’m pretty sure you’re a wanted criminal by now.” Anticipating his protests, she adds, “I’ll still come by every day. It’ll be just like before, except better because you’ll be free.” She lets her eyes drift over to meet Surehouser’s troubled gaze. “You’re going to stay free.”

Adamantius bows his head, although it seems to be just as much about hiding the sour look on his face as it is about any sense of fealty. “As you wish.”

“It’s going to be fine,” she assures him. “Just try not to kill each other when I’m not around.”

As she does her best to console the beast, Surehouser walks away shaking his head. She doesn’t stop him. She knew he wouldn’t like her decision but it’s the only thing that makes sense. This way she can keep Adami from terrorizing the neighborhood without having to take the responsibility of ordering him around. He’ll come around, she just knows it.

#original fiction #fantasy #writeblr #my writing #project: stone heart gambit

[theshatteredrose]

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 6) - Original Fiction

AN: Hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~

Chapter 6:

Eishirou tried to concentrate on his tablet, but the firm grip that Zayne had on his hand was somewhat distracting. The grip was tight, but not painful. Yet his heart raced at the touch regardless, which was honestly pretty stupid. Zayne just wanted to ensure his safety. And what easier way to ensure that he didn’t fall through a hole in the floor or trip and hurt himself than physically keeping a hold of him?

That explanation, though, made him feel…disappointed. For some inexplicable reason.

He had to get that out of his head. He was in a mine, at least twenty-feet underground, with Zayne as his only companion and bodyguard. Oh, they were also lost. And there were massive centipede-like ShadowDwellers trundling about at the speed of a freight train.

He clearly had other things to worry about.

And not how warm Zayne’s hand was around his…

…Gah.

Zayne’s hand suddenly tightened around his as he tugged him protectively to his side. “Careful, there’s a hole in the wall here,” he explained lowly.

Lifting his gaze from his tablet, he saw that Zayne wasn’t exaggerating. There was a large hole in the wall. From floor to ceiling. And about…seven feet in width.

Eishirou glanced around at the ground before the hole. There were bits of stones and debris splayed out from the hole and into the hallway where they stood. In a matter akin to a force striking the wall from the other side.

He kinda had an idea as to what could have been responsible.

“It…looks like that centipede ShadowDweller smashed through this at one point.”

Zayne frowned. “That means we’re potentially in its way again.”

“It…looks lighter in here,” Eishirou mused aloud. “It might lead us out.”

Zayne wasn’t exactly thrilled but what other options did they have at this point?

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” he muttered as he cautiously stepped into the new darken tunnel, keeping Eishirou close to him as he did so.

He spent a few moments looking at their new surroundings, gazing up and down, left and right. Searching for anything that could be a threat. Listening intently.

So, Eishirou kept his mouth shut, waiting for the Elite to take the lead once more. When, finally, Zayne chose a direction and they continued their trek through the unknown tunnels.

Their surroundings had changed subtly, and yet significantly. The stone walls weren’t perfectly carved, or symmetric. The pathways weren’t created in a grid pattern. Facing north to south, or west to east.

The one thing he noticed immediately was the lack of destruction. The hole lead straight into a wall. No signs of damage to be found. If a centipede ShadowDweller was responsible, then why did it just create a hole and leave?

Strange.

The second thing he noticed was that the stone corridors had turned into winding tunnels. Imperfect in structure. The floor beneath their feet sloped upwards and downwards at random intervals. There were no wooden support beams to be seen. And the deafening silence had given way to the sound of dripping water from somewhere. He wasn’t entire how close or how far; the acoustics within caves made accurately pin-pointing anything quite difficult.

And Eishirou little to no experience with caves.

It would have been easy to assume that the paths they now walked where natural. Likely to have been created over time. Or by the very ShadowDweller they had hid from.

Only…

“Torches.”

“Hm?” Zayne uttered.

Eishirou pointed to the objects that were spaced out along the walls at certain intervals. Within hollowed out nooks upon the stone walls was a wooden stick draped in thick, tar-laden cloth. He remembered seeing such things in his previous research. They were objects that ancient peoples used to illuminate their paths.

“Those things set into the wall. They’re torches. Not like the ones we know. If you set the end of fire, it acts like a torch.”

Zayne nodded his head idly, only mildly interested as his caution was in high gear. “There’s a line of them,” he commented.

“Yeah,” Eishirou replied as he glanced down at his tablet to note that they were heading north. “I think we’re in a new-no older part of the underground tunnels. If we follow the torches, they might lead us to something.”

“A door, I hope,” Zayne commented dryly as he continued to lead the way.

“Yeah, so do I.”

Someone, at some point, had been down in these tunnels. And the torches had to begin and end somewhere. Hopefully, by following them, it will lead them to a way out.

After a few minutes of cautious walking, Zayne pulled him to a stop once more. There wasn’t protectiveness in his posture this time. But curiosity.

“Look at this,” he said simply as he pointed to the wall next to him.

Eishirou immediately peered around. And by the blue light of his mana wings, he saw that had caught his attention. “Cave paintings.”

Though the etching were faded due to time, the figures found were easy to recognize. Brown figures of humans with spears and weapons appeared to be in a battle. Facing off against three others. Creatures that were large and painted with rich, black paint. Purposely so. As if the ancient painter had wanted to emphasize how dark those very creatures were.

And those creatures…

“They look like ShadowDwellers,” Zayne stated.

Eishirou nodded his head in agreement and snapped a quick photo of the figures with his tablet. He’d look at it in greater detail back at the Academy. “They do.”

The centipede. Scorpions. The third was the form of a spider. A large spider that towered over everything within the painting.

He couldn’t help but wonder; Were they native to the area at some point in history? Or were they myths and legends brought to life because of the Bombardment?

Maybe the stones and paintings could tell him? If there was enough mana, that was.

Setting his tablet within his bag, Eishirou placed his hand against the cool stone and closed his eyes. He tried to connect with the mana hidden within the stones. Yet, he wasn’t able to. “Hah, there’s a little bit of mana here, but not enough to pull a recording. So, we can only speculate what they mean.”

“Pull a recording?” Zayne abruptly asked, reminding Eishirou that he hadn’t had the chance to explain earlier.

“Oh, it’s another skill that I have. With the use of mana and under the right circumstances, I can literally pull information from an object. Sometimes I receive images in my mind. Sometimes voices from long ago. The information I receive depends on the nature of the mana stored inside.”

In spite of the dim lighting, Zayne actually looked impressed. “You mean you can actually see or hear events from the past?”

Eishirou nodded. “That’s right. It’s something I’ve been able to do for as long as I can remember.”

Zayne appeared as if he wanted to know more, but abruptly snapped his mouth shut and looked toward the path they had taken. “We’ll talk more once we get out of this shit-hole,” muttered, agitation seemingly masking his unease. He must have also noted the paintings looked like the ShadowDwellers they had encountered thus far.

There was one they hadn’t yet. The one in the form a large, long-legged spider.

…Please don’t let there be a massive spider ShadowDweller waiting for them somewhere in these tunnels.

With their linked hands, Zayne prompted Eishirou to continue moving forward.

Again, they moved as silently as they could manage. Eishirou pulled out his tablet again to keep an eye on the map. Yet, his gaze kept drifting to the surrounding stone walls. As they moved, he noted more and more cave paintings. Some were faded and unrecognisable. Others predicting ancient drawings of humans and what was once considered to be important figureheads.

It was fascinating, he had to admit. He wished he could study them further and tell Jacob about them. But any investigation or research would have to wait.

Poor Jacob. He must be so worried about him. Eishirou hoped that he was ok. And wasn’t attempting to do anything reckless to try to find him.

Zayne’s left mana wing abruptly encircled him, and it wasn’t until he heard the distinct sound of rocks cracking and scraping against each other did Eishirou realise that loose rocks above their heads had chosen the exact moment they stepped beneath them to fall.

He had used his wing to deflect the rocks and prevent them from causing serious damage to Eishirou.

Honestly, Eishirou was so grateful that Zayne was there. If he wasn’t, he had no doubt that he would have been dead by now. It was an unnerving thought, but it was true. If not by the cave-in, then definitely by that centipede ShadowDweller.

“Thanks,” Eishirou said in earnest as Zayne lowered his wing.

Zayne simply nodded his head. “We need to get out of here before there’s another cave in,” he stated as a frown tugged at his lips. “And I think that centipede is getting close again.”

Eishirou couldn’t stop himself from grimacing at the thought. They were lucky that there was a crawlspace in the tunnel wall that allowed them to hide. From the look of these tunnels, they may not be so lucky the next time they encountered the thing.

“What’s that noise?” Zayne suddenly asked, his left wing curled protectively around Eishirou once more. “It’s not that centipede. Is it something else?”

Eishirou listened for a moment. There was…a howling noise. It was slight. With wanes and peaks.

“I think it’s the wind,” Eishirou finally replied.

If so, that meant that there was an opening to the outside word somewhere. They hadn’t heard anything like it before. Could they be heading in the right direction?

“Let’s keep moving,” Zayne said.

The sound of the howling grew louder the further they moved down the tunnel. And the closer they moved toward it, the clearer it was to recognise. It was the wind. Eishirou could even smell it. The grass and fresh air from the forest. There was an opening somewhere.

The question was; how big was it?

The path they were on sloped upwards sharply toward a man-size opening, with unlit touches hanging on either side. From the archway over the opening, Eishirou speculated that what was on the other side wasn’t another tunnel.

A room perhaps?

Cautiously stepping through the opening, they found themselves in something bigger than a room.

“This…It’s a chamber,” Eishirou muttered as he stared up at the high ceiling above their heads. And as he did so, he noticed that there were small open windows at the very peaks of the four walls. “Look, sunlight.”

Zayne uttered a small sigh of relief. “There must be a way to get out of here. If not, I’ll make one.”

Eishirou immediately checked his communicator. There was a small bar of reception. But it was sporadic at best. Still, he should try to get a message out to Jacob. At least tell him that he’s fine.

“I’m going to try to send a message,” he told Zayne.

“Can you send coordinates?”

“I’ll try. I’ll give him what my map is telling me.”

He started the message with a simple “I’m fine”. He mentioned Zayne was with him and they were in an underground passage. He added the coordinates at the end. It was short and to the point. And hopefully enough to ease Jacob’s fears about his safety.

And he figured out where the coordinates led.

Still, they shouldn’t sit and wait for the rescue party to arrive. That centipede ShadowDweller might find them first.

“Look,” Zayne prompted after Eishirou hit send on his communicator. “Another cave painting.”

Eishirou turned to look in the direction Zayne was. What he saw was a surprise. He was expecting the stick figures of the previous paintings. The one before them, however, was far different.

It was located on the western wall of the chamber. Before it, a set of stone stairs leading up to an altar at its base. Long forgotten candles and dried, rotten food scraps littered the altar’s surface.

The painting itself was that of a dark brown, somewhat feminine face. Serene and with eyes closed gently. Hair of many different colours cascaded around the face as a crown of white feathers adorn their brow. The centre piece of that crown was a crimson teardrop. From that grew a flower of vivid red petals.

The colours within the mosaic were intense. Showing no age to how long it had been there. If it weren’t for the several missing pieces of stones.

“It’s a…portrait?” Eishirou muttered as he carefully walked over to stand before the mural. “It must be important. It’s centre feature within this chamber.”

“Not as broken as the stone tablet, but certainly not in one piece,” Zayne added as he kept a sceptical eye on their surroundings.

“No,” Eishirou shook his head and climbed the stairs, hoping to get a better look. As he took the second step, a soft clack near his foot told him that he had kicked a stone. Instinctively, he looked down, hoping that the floor wasn’t about to give way again.

However, the stone that laid near his foot possessed the same vivid colours as the mosaic. “Wait, I think the pieces are scattered around here,” he stated when he noticed other brightly coloured stones. “Let me try putting it together. Maybe it’ll have a hint about how we can get out of here.”

“Fine,” Zayne relented as he moved to join him. “I can’t see a door otherwise.”

Eishirou placed his tablet and communicator into his carry bag before he crouched down and gathered the pieces of coloured stones. He counted six pieces of stone, and funnily enough, there were six gaps within the mosaic.

He took a moment to estimate which piece went where. When he began to replace them, the stones slotted into place easily.

“Now, let me just restore it…”

Eishirou placed both his hands flat against the mosaic. He closed his eyes in order to concentrate, and to feel for the mana that resided within the stone artwork. This time, there were ample amounts of mana for him to work with.

He drew in a deep breath before releasing it slowly.

The cracks and imperfections within the stones glowed a bright green under his hands. Slowly, it began to etch itself back together, returning to its full and original form. The colourful paint grew denser, too.

Before Eishirou could pull his hands away, mana suddenly came rushing into him. Showing itself to him through a series of pictures.

The mosaic in a room filled with gold and treasure. Ancient tribesman honouring the painting. Fresh herbs and bread adorning the altar. Some symbols in a pattern. Someone pressing in tiles on the floor. Stairs. A door. And a golden crown with a red flower resting upon a pedestal.

As suddenly as the recording rushed into him, it left. Causing Eishirou to utter a gasp of surprise and to lurch himself backwards.

Right into Zayne’s waiting arms.

“What happened?” he demanded in a truly concerned way as he practically carried him down the stairs.

“Sorry,” Eishirou immediately muttered as he touched his forehead. “I just saw a recording.”

There were times where he couldn’t control when a recording came to him. This was one of those times. And when they came to him unprepared, they left him feeling lightheaded.

“What did you see?” Zayne asked as he kept a firm arm around his shoulders.

“It was a jumble of still pictures,” he replied as he ran a hand through his hair. “One of them was…a golden crown. Like that of the portrait, but like…real. Wait, I think there’s a set of stairs here. A switch. I saw something in the recording. Pressing in floor tiles on the floor…”

Zayne did a quick survey of their surroundings. “Where about?”

Eishirou gently pushed away from Zayne. And though the Elite was reluctant, he allowed him to stand on his own two feet. He then walked into the centre of the room. He closed his eyes for a moment trying to remember what the recordings had shown to him.

He opened his eyes and walked into the centre of the chamber. And crouched down. He brushed aside the dirt and debris that littered the ground and felt his fingertips brush against small indentations.

“Zayne, can I have a bit more light over here?”

Dutifully, Zayne walked to his side and allowed his mana wings to illuminate the area.

On the floor where Eishirou knelt was three engravings. On three protruding tiles.

Symbols…Oh, the recording! Sun, moon, and star. In that order. He needed to press in the tiles in that order.

While part of him was still very cautious, another part told him that pressing the tiles would be fine. It would lead them back to the outside world. And to safety.

So, he pressed in the tiles one by one.

A loud grinding noise suddenly infiltrated the area. Prompting Zayne to become on guard once more. But as Eishirou looked up toward the wall that faced opposite of the mosaic, he watched as part of the stone wall unexpectedly slid to the side. Like an automatic door.

And behind it was a set of stairs.

“Ah, it worked!” Eishirou said excitedly as he jumped to his feet.

Zayne’s arms were suddenly around him again, prompting him to let out a squeak of surprise. “Let’s go before it closes!”

Well, Eishirou didn’t have much say in it otherwise; Zayne had snared him by the wrist and dragged him toward the stairs. And out into the near blinding light of the sun once more.

They had to push through some thick, green undergrowth. But they were outside. Back in the lush green forest they had entered. The sound of birds chirping and insects buzzing about aimlessly filled his ears. And the scent of fresh air filled his lungs.

To say he was relieved would be an understatement.

“We’re finally out,” Zayne muttered, also sounding relieved.

Glancing behind him, Eishirou noted that the stone door remained open. He pulled out his tablet to make a note of its location. After all was said and done, what they had discovered in that chamber was important. After everything had settled down, Jacob would want to know. Other researchers would want to know.

Now, they just needed to find a way to meet back up with Jacob and the others!

#scifi fantasy #young adult #adventure #mystery #original fiction #Relic Keepers Awakening of the Red Lily

[thanksjro]

Children of a Lesser Matrix: It’s Like A Saturday Morning Cartoon, But With… Genocide

Children of a Lesser Matrix is by no means a complete work- more of an outline that never got past the “slap some ideas in as they come to you” stage. Fun fact: you don’t have to write in sequential order if you don’t want to. It can actually help with writer’s block to jump around.

Let’s take a look at the writing process, shall we?  

I wasn’t kidding when I said the self-insert got the shaft in Eugenesis.

It turns out that back when the Transmasters UK club was a thing, it was pretty common for the members to have a sort of mascot for themselves, a character that would show up in their work repeatedly. You see it nowadays with fanfic writers too, so it isn’t exactly an odd phenomenon, but it’s something I found interesting.

You know who else shows up repeatedly in Roberts’ other works?

Throwback.

But that’s a topic for another day.

This story takes place in the year of 1990. No peering into the future here; this was probably set in the modern day at the time of writing. Seeing as Eugenesis was first published in 2001, it’s safe to assume that we’re looking at the work of a very young Roberts.

Our focus at present is an asteroid in uncharted space.

Oh!

Oh.

Looks like these guys are Autobots, and their ship crashed into this space rock, killing them instantly. These must be the equivalent of Transformers’ red-shirts, because it usually takes a little more to take them out. There’s also a Decepticon, but we’ll get to him in a second.

What else is on this asteroid? Oh, y’know, nothing special. Just the Creation Matrix.

AND IT’S EVIL.

And everyone knows that green is the color of EVIL.

We’ve got an interesting take on the Matrix here, in that A) it’s evil, and B) it’s sentient. Like, really sentient. Also, it can summon demons, and is gonna stuff them in these Autobot corpses it found in the ship.

No mention of what it does with Thunderwing, if anything at all.

Yep. Thunderwing. If you read the IDW Stormbringer miniseries, or the MTMTE Revolutions one-shot, you know about Thunderwing at least a little. In the Marvel UK comics, his whole shtick was that he was obsessed with obtaining the Creation Matrix, believing himself to have an affinity with it. Guess that sort of backfired on him here.

This is the first time I’ve seen something bolded like this in Roberts’ work, and I really couldn’t tell you exactly why, but it’s oddly endearing. Maybe it the mental image of this 14-year old kid just furiously getting this outline down, underlining the word “will" so hard the lead in his pencil breaks off.

We get hit with an interlude, taking place inside a robot grandpa.

Of course, I’m being facetious, but this is a little interesting. Perhaps this is referring to his base on Cybertron, and not Alpha Trion himself. It seems more likely than Roberts mistaking the name for a place.

And who’s inside Delta Triton? Why, it’s Skimmer!

You probably don’t know Skimmer.

Skimmer was actually in MTMTE #41- or at least, he was mentioned. Hailing from Caminus and serving under Thunderclash, the comic doesn’t even know what gender he is. He’s male. Probably can’t put that on the wiki, seeing as this is about as far from “canon” as it gets- an unpublished, basically unwritten fanfiction. It’ll be our little secret, just between you, me, and James Roberts.

Skimmer runs into his boss Quillion- who does not show up anywhere else, as far I can can tell- who doesn’t look terribly happy at the moment. There’s a huge blip on the radar, and it isn’t anyone they want to have over for tea.  

Language!

Quillion orders for these massive rocket boosters they’ve strapped to the moon be turned on so they can get the hell out of the way of this honestly preposterously large pile of Decepticons coming their way. They flip the switch, and moon #3 blasts off.

Oh hi, Luna 01, didn’t recognize you there!

Back at the asteroid, the Matrix went and brought the Autobots back from the dead, and proceeds to wax poetic  on the nature of life, and how its new underlings will serve it.

That’s the royal we, baby. The Matrix is making no bones about it, this thing is KING. Seems like the Omniforce is a Roberts-original idea. Wonder what that’s all about. And what of this new force of evil?

Oh my fucking god his name is Genocide.

If I were a middle-school kid reading this outline, I’d be losing my mind over how cool and edgy this was. Roberts is trying so hard here, and I’m all about it. You go, tiny JRo. You go full cowl on these evil robots.

Our Omniforce have personalities to match their new looks and identities, and it’s about what you’d expect- these boys are a drop of blood in the water away from going completely feral. Also, Thunderwing’s starting to wake up. So, that’ll be a thing soon.

Back at the interlude, everything’s settling down as the gravity rights itself. The moon almost hit light-speed- which, holy shit- but it looks like the laws of inertia in a vacuum are on vacation today.

Not that I expect a kid from the 90’s to know about that.

They’re roughly 7000 hours away from Cybertron, so they better start heading back now. Assuming that there’s still a Cybertron to go back to.

Back with the first plot, Thunderwing’s having a seizure- Roberts’ prose characters seem to do that a lot- and the Matrix is freaking out, because if he dies, they won’t have a ride off this barren space rock. There’s only one thing to do!

The Matrix zaps Thunderwing with green (evil!) lightning, saving him from the brink of death. Thunderwing is less than enthused with this turn of events.

You get redundancies like this when outlining, it happens.

Thunderwing is pissed, and the brand-spanking new Omniforce isn’t super sure how to handle the current situation. The Matrix, thinking quickly, merges with Thunderwing.

This does not help the situation.

You’ve had them for five minutes, and you’re already killing them. I know you’re new to this, Matrix, but come on now.

TWENTY THOUSAND YEARS LATER, it turns out that Quillion’s estimate of their arrival back at Cybertron was off by just a smidge. The moon runs into a tomb of all things in the depths of space, and brings it on inside to see what all the hubbub’s about.

It’s got a Mind-Krell in it.

No, I have no idea what a Mind-Krell is. Another Roberts original. He’s always been rather ambitious as a writer, it would seem.

Jumping back in time, Thunderwing’s throwing out his rawest lines, and it’s amazing.

Like holy shit, I unironically love this. I wish he’d decided to do more with this, it’s fantastic.

We get our first taste of action. Theres a lot going on here: Genocide is apparently a necromancer, capable of controlling the dead, which Thunderwing currently technically is. However, this takes time to set up, so it’s Black Fusion’s turn to step up to the plate. He shoots off a volley of Black Fusion from his eyes, knocking Thunderwing over.

Yes, they’re named after their powers. Or are their powers named after them? Anyway, they’re about to head for the shuttle, when Genocide orders Kaos to use his- you guessed it- Kaos Energy.

We’re also dealing with the “can’t just use said” phase that every young writer goes through. Kaos’ staff, which he’s had this whole time, turns into a gun? It’s not clear, but he shoots Thunderwing and then dives into the shuttle at the last possible second, Indiana Jones-style.

As the shuttle takes off, Genocide warns their resident possessor Daemon to not do the thing, even though he really, really wants to. With that, they train the onboard weapons systems on Thunderwing below- all of them.

And that’s all we got for Children of a Lesser Matrix.

Clearly there would have been more if he’d continued with the ideas, but as is we have a fascinating snapshot of what was probably one of Roberts’ first forays into writing. You don’t get to do this with very many authors, where you can go this far back and see what they were doing, what changed, what stayed the same. I wasn’t expecting to see ideas from MTMTE pop up here- and certainly not ones that were as big as the moon thrusters.

If this entry seems a little soft around the edges, it’s probably because it is. I’m of two mind about covering this at all. On one hand: it was published online for others to read, which makes it free game, and it’s a part of his growth as a writer, so of course I’m going to look at it! On the other hand: Literal. Child. I wouldn’t make fun of a kid just starting out now, and I’m definitely not trying to rag on a young writer retroactively. That being said...

I’m not gonna lie, this is kind of a rough sit. I mean, other than it being an idea springboard that never went anywhere. There are some neat ideas, but… look, anything that’s truly made from the bottom of one’s heart, out of pure love, is always going to be at least a little cringe-inducing. That’s just how it goes, even with the best writers, and this is an outline written by a kid who grew up on 80’s-era media and was just starting out.

Still, there was a lot of potential here. It’s ambitious, it’s over the top, it’s silly and earnest. I like it. It makes me smile to read it and think about the person creating it and having fun doing it.

It just goes to show that no one starts out amazing at what they do.

Up next, a relic of a bygone era- the ‘zine! It’s The Mystery of the Transformer Decoys, a ‘zine that was printed out and sent via snail mail. We truly are spoiled by the internet.

#transformers #jro #children of a lesser matrix #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing

[obsidiancreates]

Something Old, Something New

(Des meets my old evil version of me from when I was 13. I wrote it like how I pictured the inside of my brain looking back then too. So, weird. Weird and edgy.)

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Des looked around the space. “Now where were those Sides again...” she muttered.

Sid’s mind was difficult to navigate. Her constantly shifting thoughts and interests made the terrain just as unreliable, the ground changing shape and color with every step. The sounds of a thousand ideas choked the air, buzzing and screeching, somehow both too quite to hear and too loud to hear anything else. A song played behind the thoughts chatter, looping over and over, consistent background noise to the constant foreground cacophony.

Des moved out of the way of a a person, made of letters and some kind of gray mist, as they sobbed and ran past her. It left behind the feeling of abandonment, and on the ground where it had stepped it left behind words. “Rude Awakening,” Des read. Ah. An unfinished story.

She considered trying to recruit the story. She’d have to see if they had any kind of power or influence after they’d been left behind. If not, she’d let them die with Sid.

She continued on her quest. If she could find that ‘Jessa’, the irrationality Side, she could get her to overpower Sid...

Des walked right into a wall.

“Shit!” She reached up to hold her head, and felt something warm and wet. She brought her hand down, and found her fingers to be coated in blood and lava. She growled and wiped it off on the ground, which shifted from bright teal to deep red at her touch.

She looked up at the building she had slammed into. It was made of deep purple bricks. It didn’t seem to have a start or an end, stretching as wide and tall as the eye could see.

Des looked behind her. Had she already gotten to the subconscious? She couldn’t have...

There was one door. One way forward.

She rubbed her thumb on the end of her sword’s handle, and then went in.

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

As soon ash she stepped through the door the world changed.

The music from before became overpowering, and the clamoring of the thoughts went completely silent. She was standing on solid ground, but there was no ground to be seen. She stood in a void, with only one thing in it.

A girl. A version of Sid, in fact. Not one that Des had seen before.

The girl’s hair was short and dark purple, or maybe long and bright purple, or maybe Sid’s normal hair...

Her clothes were a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a band shirt and a black hoodie and sneakers, and they were a black skirt with leggings and a long sleeved dark red shirt and knee-high boots, and they were loose jeans and a loose solid pink shirt, and-

Des rubbed her eyes. The girl’s appearance never stayed the same. All that remained unchanging was the fact that she looked like Sid. A... a younger Sid. From before Des had even existed.

The girl hovered in the air, grinning, singing along with the music.

“Now I know,” she did a spin, “there’s no-one I can trust!” She grabbed the shirt of a faceless figure and pulled them close “I used to think there was!” She shoved the figure away, and they vanished. “Tell me that I’m cut-throat!” She dragged a knife across her neck, grinning, her eyes wide and shifting between purple and black as though they just couldn’t make a decision, and as she dragged the knife across her throat blood poured out of it. “I think you got your eyes closed!” A giant pair of eyes materialized behind her, looking terrified and very similar to Sid’s own, and they squeezed shut.

Des stepped closer. How had she never even heard of this girl? She knew all of Sid’s characters...

“Feel the fear!” The girl stared down at a group of terrified people, all of them as hazy as extras in dreams, but terror clear on their blurry faces. “And swallow back the tears!” The giant eyes returned, crying, before the irises were swallowed with purple and the tears stopped flowing. “Let weakness disappear!” The girl threw her arms out and threw her head back, purple energy pulsing around her. “There’s nobody but me her!” she sang to a mirror, a mirror that showed a younger Sid pounding on the glass, screaming. The girl just grinned back. She grabbed the sides of the mirror and got close to the glass, her nose touching the image of Sid’s. “The killer in the mirror!”

The girl continued her little show, and Des tried to guess who she was.

She wasn’t a Side. She wasn’t some kind of new OC either, her age made that clear. But the song she was dancing to was new... so she must be an old character, and something dragged her back into the forefront of Sid’s imagination.

Realization dawned on Des.

Another evil ego. From long before Des was even a thought.

“Knock ‘em. In the. Teeth. Now,” the girl sang, slowly advancing on another dream-like group, “Never! Let your! Guard! Down!” She “Get some. Of what. They’ve. Got! Have it. And the. Have. Nots!” With every word she got closer. Des got closer as well, curious, and a little pissed off.

Another evil ego? Why did she come back? She was clearly stuck as the age at which Sid made her, so she hadn’t grown with her creator. She was a relic! A... worse version of what Des could have been!

Des wasn’t jealous. Of course not. She was the best, the best of all Sid’s silly little characters. She didn’t get jealous. At all. Ever. It was inconceivable.

The girl grinned even wider somehow. “Knock, knock, knock ‘em all the fuck out!” she screamed, lurching forward, a burst of power exploding through the void. Des shouted as it knocked her to the ground, pushing and dragging her across the floor, knocking the breath from her lungs.

She stayed still, wheezing, pain gripping her whole body. She could faintly hear the girl still singing, but her ears were ringing too much for it to be more than muffled incomprehensible noise.

And then she was pulled to her feet and staring the girl in the face.

The girl was considerably shorter, both because of her age and the extra height Des’s boots gave her. She made up for it by floating high enough to be at eye-level with Des. “Hiya!” she exclaimed.The blood and cut on here neck were gone without a trace. Her teeth looked just a bit too sharp to be human. Her eyes bore into Des’s, and if Des herself wasn’t an evil ego it might have set shivers through her spine.

The girl tilted her head. “Did that hurt ya?” She laughed. “I hope so!”

Des scowled. “Who are you?”

“I’m !)@%*!” she said, using Sid’s real name. Des flinched. The girl didn’t notice. “But cooler! And with no worries or limitations or restraints!” She shrugged, still grinning. “And a little insane!”

“I’m Sid’s evil ego,” Des growled. She drew her sword.

The girl tilted her head again. “Who’s Sid?” Her voice never stopped being cheery.

“I don’t use her real name, idiot.” Des straightened her posture and posed regally. “I am LavaDestroys.”

The girl chuckled. “I don’t have a name! Never did!” Her eyes never closed. They never even narrowed. They just stared, wide as they could be, never leaving Des’s own. “You look different!” The corners of her mouth drooped. It was barely perceptible, the grin was still plastered to her face, but it was clear something had upset her. “Older.”

Des nodded. “I am.”

“How much older?”

Des looked the girl up and down. “A little over two years, I think.”

The girl laughed, bitterness clear in the sound, her left eye twitching. “Two years? I’ve been gone for two years? And... you replaced me?”

Des put her sword away. The girl’s smile dropped completely, her teeth clenching and her breaths coming in short and shaky. Her whole face twitched with rage, and the purple of her eyes became much more red. She screamed, the void around them filling with clashing lights of various shades of purple. She gripped her hair, staring at the ground. Des backed away, but the rage powered light-show left her alone. She watched the girl, braced herself, and took a step forward.

She took slow, careful steps, until she was right next to the girl. She put her hand on her back. “You poor little thing,” she said, pity filling her voice. “Ignored, abandoned, forgotten...”

The girl’s head snapped up and she grabbed Des’s jacket, yanking her closer. “WHAT MAKES YOU BETTER THAN ME?! I WAS FUN! SHE HAD FUN IMAGINING FIGHTING ME!” Her voice cracked and rasped as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“It’s hardly my fault I was created!” Des didn’t fight back. This girl... she was made before Sid realized her love of manipulative villains. before Sid knew how to properly write manipulation... how it worked.. which left her open to a few ‘suggestions’ from Des. “I never even knew you existed! She ruined you, not me!”

The girl bared her teeth. “YOU STILL REPLACED ME!” She was practically howling the words.

“Please, if you must be angry with anyone, be angry with Sid!”

The girl dropped Des, tears filling her eyes. “She even changed her name in the time I’ve been... been dead! I’ve been DEAD to her!” She shook with rage, with the strain of trying to draw breath through her feelings taking up her chest. “Why shouldn’t I just kill you?! HUH?!” She grinned again, still crying. “Then she’ll HAVE to pay attention to me again!”

“Or,” Des said, using her most soothing voice, “We could fight her together.”

“What?” the girl growled venomously.

“I hate her as well, of course.”

“I don’t hate her! I- I want to help!”

Des blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“She’s so stressed all the time! Having to be sweet and happy and nice all the time!”

Ah. Of course, made when Sid was thirteen... the start of her emo/edgy phase.

“She needs to loosen up!” The girl spread her arms out. “And I can help her do that! She’ll fight against it, but she’ll like it eventually!”

Dammit. Des thought for a moment. “Fine... I think we could still help each other.”

“Oh yeah? How? You seem way too uptight for my taste.” The girl cackled. “I want to go wild! Be unrestrained! You look like you never stop holding things back!”

Des grit her teeth and took a deep breath. “Sid has changed since you’ve been gone,” she said. “Didn’t you notice the new music? The fact that you can curse now? I’m so different from you because she re-thought how she’d like an evil version of her to be. Because her preferences have changed. Her personality has changed. She’s a different person.”

The girl shook her head. “Not that different. I’m here again! I can feel it! She still wants to be able to loosen up! She still can’t be herself the way she wants to!”

“But she expresses herself more now,” Des argued. “Trust me. She’s not the girl she was when she made you.” ‘She’s just different enough for you to need me.’ Des tried not to smirk as she thought that.

The girl looked thoughtful. “You want to kill her. I need her.”

“Well, perhaps I can kill her in more ways than one.” Des smiled. “She’ll hardly be the Sid I’m bothered by if you get ahold of her.”

The girl stared into Des’s eyes. Des stared back, unblinking, unyielding.

The girl nodded slowly. For a moment she looked like a normal kid, looking for some help, some guidance.

“I... guess I could see that.”

Now it was Des who grinned too wide. “Wonderful. Come with me.” She held her hand out. “We have a lot to plan.”

#My OCs #LavaDestroys #Ferox #Seriously I never thought of a name for her #Or set appearence #As you can probably tell lol #my writing #writing #my egos

[movienotesbyzawmer]

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

May 4: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

(previous notes: Star Wars: The Last Jedi)

Source: UK 3D Blu-ray

I saw this at pretty much the very first available showing, and haven't watched it since. But since I had the other Disney-era ones in 3D, and I still have the capability to watch 3D movies at home, I decided to complete my Blu-ray collection by ordering the British 3D Blu-ray, like I'd done with The Last Jedi. So now I'm going to see it at home for the first time, in 3D for the first time, and take notes like I've been doing.

My reaction when I saw this on opening night was that it was a lot of fun. I didn't think it was as good as The Last Jedi. Overall it feels like a trilogy where the first priority was to avoid the mistakes of the prequels, and the second priority was to have them be fun movies. Mission accomplished, but the actual story of this trilogy is only marginally satisfying. But I left that opening night screening excited about all the neat things I'd witnessed. And now I shall press play and do some re-witnessing…

Emperor Palpatine, the opening crawl tells us. He wasn't someone we were expecting to be part of the plot of this movie, was it?

First scene after the opening shot is a slow-mo land battle, visually different from Star Wars movies in general. Dude kills 100% of everyone then plucks a mysterious relic from a mysterious relic. He's on a Tomb-raider-y treasure hunt.

It takes him to a Tomb Raider-y lair… and there are creatures in green liquid ahhh!

"…some consider to be… UNNATURAL", that line from Episode III. Very love it. Good reference.

The image of all those Star Destroyers is super super super cool.

And now after a calculated bit of lightness in the Millennium Falcon, the good guys arrive at a super neat looking planet thing. Not even ten minutes in and we've seen three inventive new planet environments.

And now a chase, "lightspeed skipping", and each skip is a cool space place, all different, one of them has a big monster! They are tuned into what's good about Star Wars movies, these Rise of Skywalker makers.

Also, Finn and Poe seem to have settled into their roles as funny supporting-character buddies. The first movie really seemed to be beginning a more dramatic arc for Finn, but it doesn't feel like that's happening any more.

0:15:36 - Rose Tico sighting! Her arc blunted as well. Be nice if she joined them on this mission they're about to leave on.

Really kind of surprising how much footage there is of Carrie Fisher, who died years before this came out.

Okay now we're back with Kylo Ren on this planet that's the equivalent of that orc-factory in Lord of the Rings. What's he doing? Collaborating with some ukky beings. Fixing his helmet. Hm.

Bit of humor in the conference room scene, again calculated.

Back to our heroes and they're on another neat new planet with color clouds & celebratory visuals, pleasant.

0:23:40 - Very cinematic Rey-Kylo cross-galaxy conversation, cool.

Lando saves them from stormtroopers, and is therefore given the honor of the "I've got a bad feeling about this" line.

0:28:00 Speeder chase in the desert, and the stormtrooper speeders launch them up and they fly! Cool!

Hah, there's a gag where Rey fires up her light saber and Poe tries to do that too but his is just a flashlight, cute.

Okay, here's this scene I like where there's a serpent monster in their Tomb Raider cave, and Ray figures out that the monster just needs to be force healed so she does it and it helps them. Sounds corny but I like it.

0:36:00 - we see the Ren gang on a plateau and here a new music theme. I'm not much noticing the new music themes in the Star Wars movies of the 2010s, but there's one.

This scene. The Kylo/Rey meeting in the desert. It was heavily teased in the trailer and it would have been more effective if we hadn't seen so much of it in the trailer. Also there's a who-can-magic-harder duel that ends up killing Chewy, except that we don't have to believe that very very long.

"Let's do that!" about wiping C-3POs memory, John Boyega's exceptional comic timing on display again.

0:45:40 - We're on this new planet now, which is so Poe can find the person that can do a memory wipe of 3-3PO, right? It's fast-paced, this movie.

"We sent out a call for help at the battle of Krait, nobody came" says Poe. Am I forgetting that drama from The Last Jedi? I know he's talking about that final battle from that movie, but I didn't remember a despairing "no one is coming", at least not like it was a huge, shocking letdown.

I like the little Babu creature but we don't get much of it, do we

Poe is all "did she do that to us" when he sees her Force-hypnotize the stormtroopers, haha

0:58:10 - Pretty unique shot, dollying backwards facing Poe & Finn shooting stormtroopers we can't see until they fall in front of the camera

"Your parents were no one… they CHOSE to be" here's where it starts to seem like this movie doesn't like where the last movie was going & made it be different. If this were an improv class the teacher would be like, "remember the principle of 'yes AND…'"

Okay, this bit coming up where General Hux saves them & says he's the spy. It's… funny? And dumb? Maybe? Sort of a tawdry end to this character in the trilogy maybe?

"You.. Are a Palpatine." Dun dun dunnnnnnn. Okay sure I guess. This isn't what I'm into Star Wars movies for; I wouldn't have had it be about this.

They get to the new planet and Rey figures out how to use the knife tool to find where to go, it's so like a Tomb Raider game that I feel like I'm reading a cheat guide on GameSpot

Now Finn is bonding with the girl on the planet who is also a stormtrooper deserter, makes that whole Finn subplot make more sense.

Rey swiped a cool watercraft to go to the wreck of the Death Star and I just want to point out once again that I like the vehicle design in Star Wars movies.

1:13:10 - overhead shot of said vehicle is the first notable example of something that looks good in 3D in this movie. I'm inclined to say you really shouldn't feel like you're missing out if you're seeing this in 2D.

She's in a vision cave on the wrecked Death Star. She fights HER OWN SELF for a second, and bad-Rey rawrs at her in a way that reminds me of when Bilbo does that in the first Lord of the Rings movie. I liked it there and I like it here.

1:18:05 - First bit of my beloved "Han Solo and the Princess" theme, so lovely

Now Rey and Kylo are saber dueling all over this wreck with waves everywhere and it reminds me of the big climactic duel in Episode III where it seems like the duelers are going out of their way to duel in a cool looking place.

Everything gets all dramatic in a way that doesn't really get explained - Leia very deliberately says "Ben", then dies, but it affects Kylo allowing Rey to kill him, but then she un-kills him with Force magic because "I did want to take your hand" and then bounces. And it's not over with this kind of thing, because Kylo has a not-really-real conversation with his played-by-OMG-Harrison-Ford father, and he symbolically hurls his awesome saber away. So where are we now? We're in some drama, that's where. I miss cool vehicles and inventive creature design!

1:27:45 - Modded-up Star Destroyer emerges from lightspeed and it's another cool 3D effect.

And then it blows up the planet where Poe's ex-girlfriend was and it looks cool, but we could have used her to be around more. Wait, does she not-be-dead later or something? Probably.

Okay, very corny sequence happening now, it's the pep talk between Rey and ghost-Luke, it ends with a smirking Luke raising up an X-wing like he couldn't do in Empire Strikes Back, so I guess that plot point is tidied up.

Okay, we got past that drama and now there's a very simple Saint-Crispin's-Day speech riling up the troops so they can go to that mystery planet for the final battle, and interest level has picked up.

1:41:28 - Hey a shot of Rey going through a wall gap is a reference to the earlier cool-in-3D shot of the watercraft & the Death Star wreck.

And here's something that internet assholes picked on - they ride horse-things on the Star Destroyers. Lighten up comrades, maybe this just isn't your kind of space adventure movie.

Rey gets in the mystery-edifice and holy hell it's creepy! There's an audience of thousands of cultists in black stone bleacher seats, chanting in perfect unison! It's downright Kubrick-y!

They really had fun with the lighting in the Palpatine room. Also, there are red stormtroopers on the Star Destroyers and aren't they pretty.

Palpatine is trying to convince Rey that she should embrace hatred and hill him and rule the galaxy in ritual hatred with a chanting congregation of hooded dipshits. Will it work? He does have a very compelling speaking voice. But here comes Kylo! He has had a change of heart or something!

"The life force in your bond," he narrates, and then bad-magics them super hard!  We never could have anticipated that evil force spells could thwart their plans.

1:54:20 - very satisfying shot of a giant fleet of good guys coming to save the day. They hit us with the idea of no one coming to save them, and just like when Han Solo swooped in in the first movie, it feels good that this time someone else did show up. And yes it includes Poe's girlfriend and that charismatic little varmint!

Super cool to see Star Destroyers get blown up.

Also cool when Palpatine super-zaps lots of good guy spaceships. Sound is neat on that also. This intense visual/aural experience is what I was thinking about for a while after first seeing this movie.

Rey beats Palpatine by having that surprise second light saber. Whatever, this is a super cool looking scene with all the bad guys in that chamber getting wasted.

Other cool battle climax imagery happens up in the sky, even though it's kind of hard to see what exactly physically happened to save Finn and those guys on the crashing Star Destroyer.

Kylo… what??? Didn't die when he just disappeared into a crevasse??? Quel surprise! He's super-reformed now and heals Rey up with his tender love for her. They kiss, their carnal desires overtaking them, they are high on the most ethical lust the galaxy has ever known! And he dies and disappears, but is visibly satisfied. I feel okay mocking this because I suspect no one likes it. And then it moves on to really cool aftermath visuals that are crazy fun to watch. They are experiencing the great victory in other planets from the other movies, and to the tune of John Williams themes from movies past.

Maz presents Chewy with a special medal, am I supposed to know what that's about? They're giving it major gravity.

So the movie, the trilogy, and the Skywalker Saga ends with a scene of Rey returning to Tatooine to bury the two important light sabers, but also whip out another one she had, and then tell a townie that she's named Rey SKYWALKER, and the final moment is of her gazing at the two suns with the Binary Sunset theme playing us out. What I like about that is that it sends the message that that moment from the original Star Wars, elevated to greatness largely by John Williams stirring theme, is the pinnacle of cinematic experiences that were brought to us by this series.

I like this movie less than any of the Disney-era movies for sure, and I think after watching it a second time, it lacks some specialness that could have allowed it to hold up better against the best Star Wars movies. But I wouldn't say it's bad, and I certainly wouldn't advise against seeing it.

#star wars rise of skywalker

[mobius-prime]

51. Sonic the Hedgehog #36

Previous / Table of Contents / Next

Heart of Darkness

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: Barry Grossman

It's time to look at the whole "our king is trapped within the Zone of Silence" problem again! Rotor's managed to send a camera into the zone, which is currently transmitting strange images of an armored figure on horseback back to them. Apparently, the reason they've been having so much trouble penetrating the zone is just because it's a crazy, warped place that's really hard to get into. Simple enough, I guess! Even the void that Robotnik and Sonic ended up in in StH #30 wasn't the Zone of Silence, just a… generic void, I guess.

Rotor is able to use some of his tech to monitor different kinds of light, radiation, etc. around the area and discovers that there's apparently some crazy stuff going down at Robotropolis right now. Sonic zooms over to investigate, innocently disrupts a delicate experiment and dooms the world. Yay Sonic!

Robotnik is of course pissed, since this means there will be no world for him to conquer, so he decides to give Sonic a little history lesson about his past, just before he overthrew the king and took over Mobius. Apparently his mentor, Kodos (that's all we know of him so far - his name) left him some things when he disappeared, ultimately deciding to strand King Acorn inside the Zone of Silence during his coup. However, things kind of went wrong, and it started destroying reality.

This is quite interesting, as there's this theory about vacuums (I'm no scientist, so I'm sure I'm going to get some details wrong, but bear with me) that states that "true" vacuum - a space that truly had nothing within it - would expand at the speed of light and destroy all matter and energy in its path, turning it also into true vacuum until there was nothing left. It's possible the Zone of Silence is something similar to this, but in a more magical sense, since we're talking about all sorts of exotic fictional energies here. Anyway, Robotnik managed to stop the zone's rapid spread by keeping an active photon cannon trained on it, whatever that means, and he had just been experimenting with closing the zone for good to eliminate the danger when Sonic rushed in and knocked everything over.

Now that reality is in danger of collapsing in on itself once more, Robotnik has no choice but to hand Sonic an energy inhibitor, which, when detonated within the Zone of Silence, could cause it to stop expanding and end its threat to the world. Armed with this, the Freedom Fighters (minus Bunnie - seriously, we're on issue #36 and she's still missing from way too many stories!) head into the zone, watched carefully by Rotor, and soon encounter the mysterious armed figure commanding a bunch of strange gargoyle-like beasts. When the figure attacks them, they fight back, and suddenly -

The figure is none other than King Acorn - Sally's father! He's clearly been corrupted by this zone, and isn't in his right mind. With no other choice and no way to properly rescue him, Sonic detonates the energy inhibitor, forcing the zone to stop expanding and sending them hurtling back to safety in Knothole - minus the king.

Unfortunately, it will be a while yet till we're able to rescue him, something Sally is quietly distraught over in the background of the final panels.

A Sense of History (Part III)

Writers: Mike Kanterovich and Ken Penders Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Barry Grossman

It's time for the ending of Knuckles' history lesson. Armed with the power of eleven Chaos Emeralds inside him, effectively making him a living Chaos Emerald himself, Dimitri has captured his brother and the other scientific elite and begun monologuing evilly in his new tower about how he's enslaved all of echidnakind and will use them to "educate" the rest of the world with their scientific prowess. Classy!

While he rants and brags about how powerful he is, a bunch of random fire ants suddenly casually eat through the base of his tower, causing the entire thing to collapse. Unbelieving that something so small could be his downfall, he is crushed within the collapsing tower as the other echidnas make their escape. As a result of all this, things suddenly get weirdly religious and anti-science.

So the echidnas have a god? Sounds like they have some kind of bible that they're quoting, too? Are we gonna see Echidna Jesus soon? They decide that since one guy went crazy with technology, they should all abandon technology, and start throwing all their fancy gadgets away and destroying their entire city. That seems like an overreaction, guys…

This is also where the Brotherhood of Guardians began, with Edmund as the first, and following him, the guardians Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Brown Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckles & Knuckette & Athair & Locke & KNUCKLES!

This image isn't even entirely accurate, as not only is Athair Knuckles' great-grandfather, not just his grandfather, but as we learn some issues from now he wasn't even a guardian. It's still infamous and hilarious, though, so I'm including it.

Anyway, the echidnas didn't actually throw all their technology away, but locked some of it away in a "grand conservatory" as relics of their technologically advanced past. Knuckles deduces that this may be where Archimedes is hanging out and holding his friends captive, and so he sets out to investigate it, paving the way for his own miniseries!

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 36 #era 2 the freedom fight #writer: ken penders #writer: mike kanterovich #pencils: art mawhinney #pencils: ken penders #colors: barry grossman

[gal-liveblogs]

A parting gift from an old flame, it was given to one of my splinters in a distant timeline before ending up in my posession via lots of complicated shit that I don't wanna get into.

O.K. So someone gave some version of Dirk Hussie painting of a quarterback fighting a horse. I have an intense desire to know who.

"Dear Dirk, In memory of our precious time together. When you look at it, think of me, and be reminded that while we breathe, we Hope." -B.O

Oh fuck me, it was Obama. Jesus Christ, I can’t.

O.K., I had been wondering what this stuff in the corner was, but didn’t comment as I couldn’t think of how to describe them. Now, though, we have a bigger picture and that’s a cherub paint set and an old troll horn headband. Probably Calliope’s stuff.

This set of paints and the charred remains of my HORNED HEADBAND are the only surviving relics of the first and last WORLDWIDE INTERSPECIES ROLEPLAYING SESSION we ever attempted on Earth C.

Oh. Not Calliope’s. They are, in fact, Dirk’s. The Interspecies Roleplaying Session was probably orchestrated by Calliope, though.

Calliope got it into their head that dressing up in cosplay would be a fun community activity.

Right on the money!

In other news Dirk’s trollsona has a unicorn horn. So it’s not that the headband was tilted and the other horn was hidden behind the paint set like I thought. Also Dave’s trollsona has dick horns. I am not surprised. Weird how Dirk, Dave, and Rose didn’t bother to give themselves black hair. Rose gave herself yellow scleras, but couldn’t commit to the black hair it seems.

Vantas had some very uncharitable things to say about the idea, and for once in his life I think he was right.

I mean, it’s like when white people dress as Native Americans for Halloween. I can understand his anger. Though even if he didn’t have a good reason Karkat would have still been angry, I’m sure.

Plants are basically the ideal friends. They don't constantly question your decisions, or try and undermine your authority, or suggest that perhaps you should try talking about your feelings every once in a while.

I think Dirk’s issue with Homestuck getting too feelings-y was that he doesn’t like talking about his own feelings.

Wait. Does Terezi have some form of narrative control? She made it clear in one of the Epilogues that she was aware of Dirk’s narration. I’m going to assume that while Terezi herself can’t narrate, she can submit commands.

DIRK: I see you've found the command terminal.

Oh. So she can submit commands not through her own power, but because there’s one of those exile command terminals things on this ship. O.K. They have everything else on this ship, might as well have one of those too.

TEREZI: 1T S33MS TO M3 L1K3 L3TT1NG M3 BOSS YOU 4ROUND FOR 4 F3W M1NUT3S 1S TH3 L34ST YOU COULD DO TO M4K3 UP FOR WH4T PROB4BLY 4MOUNTS TO TH3 MOST BOR1NG 1NT3RG4L4CT1C VOY4G3 1N TH3 H1STORY OF SP4C3 TR4V3L

I don’t know, I think Jade’s voyage after Davesprite and John blew up might be a good contender for that title. Then again Jade had practice not having anyone with a degree of intelligence around to talk to. Then again she still had the internet on her island and could talk to her friends, unlike on the Prospit ship.

TEREZI: 4ND CONS1D3R1NG TH4T ON3 OF MY TWO PR1OR 3XP3R13NC3S 1NVOLV3D SCOUR1NG TH3 FR4CTUR3D, D1S1NT3GR4TING CORPS3 OF P4R4DOX SP4C3 FOR... WH4T F3LT L1K3 4N 3T3RN1TY,

Oh yeah, I guess that would also be a contender too.

DIRK: What, Heart and Mind?

TEREZI: M1ND 4ND H34RT, Y3S

I have a feeling Terezi purposefully switched them around to make her aspect first and to just be a tiny annoyance to Dirk.

Dirk, how dare you use Complacency of the Learned to even out a chair! Does Rose know you’re using her book like that?

> L1B3R4T3 L4LOND14N L1BR4RY

Thank you, Terezi.

TEREZI: DO3S ROS3 KNOW YOUV3 B33N US1NG ON3 OF H3R NOV3LS TO PROP UP TH4T DISGUST1NGLY T4CKY CH41R?

Terezi and I are one.

DIRK: (I captchalogue the book into my MSPA MODUS. Forget HASH MAPS, PICTIONARY, or any of that shit. This thing is where it's at.)

What the FUCK does MSPA Modus entail???

TEREZI: 4W WH4T TH3 H3LL

TEREZI: TH3 CH41R W4S SUPPOS3D TO F4LL OV3R

DIRK: I'm not sure I understand. Why would it? The four legs are all touching the floor.

TEREZI: ...

DIRK: Try not to think about it too hard.

Ha!

TEREZI: FOR SOM3ON3 WHO CL41MS TO KNOW 4 LOT 4BOUT JOK3S YOU SUR3 H4V3 CONT1NU3D TO S4Y B4S1C4LLY NOTH1NG FUNNY 3V3R

Oooh, burn! When I get around to doing my fourth read of Homestuck I’ll have to tally any instances of Dirk telling a funny joke just to see if this holds up.

For a second there I was really confused over what fractal nonsense was happening here, but then I remembered Dirk is controlling the narrative. That includes the pictures, not just the text.

DIRK: Not many really understand that when pleasure is taken seriously enough, it can easily mimic the appearance of business, just as when irony is practiced with enough passion, it becomes indistinguishable from sincerity.

So Dirk’s idea of loosening up and having fun, whether for the irony or sincerity of it, is drawing himself in romantic situations with Jake. Yeah, that pans out.

(Seriously, why is Jake such a heartthrob? John is described as dorky looking and he and Jake are practically carbon copies.)

TEREZI: DO YOU... W4NT TO T4LK 4BOUT 1T...?

DIRK: Absolutely the fuck not.

Terezi, did you seriously expect him to answer with anything else?

This feels like a meme image.

TEREZI: TH4TS TH3 ON3 TH1NG 1 4LW4YS FOUND D1FF1CULT 4BOUT M4K1NG COM1CS W1TH D4V3

TEREZI: YOU H4V3 TO DR4W 333333V3RYTH1NG >:[

God, hard agree. This is why I could never have a comic. As much as I’d like to I just get burnt out with all that tedious drawing.

DIRK: Exactly. But sometimes, visuals are just a more effective way of doing things.

DIRK: So finding the right combination of words and pictures to communicate an idea efficiently is where the artistry lies.

DIRK: And sometimes that means dispensing with one or the other entirely when appropriate.

See, this is why the Homestuck style comic is so interesting. I don’t think other comics combined panels and text like Homestuck did, and now there are so many copies of the style out there!

Woah, I feel like I just got whiplash with the disappearance of the panels!

For the sake of precedent, I'm saying that we can cloak the visuals entirely and continue with narration alone, replacing the panel with a block of text like this, which we can call a “prattle” from now on.

Right, so when we go into a more book-like format it’s a prattle. Got it. Good name, since it’s just Dirk droning on to himself.

So then Dirk narrates Terezi using the command terminal to get him to do a slew of bizarre actions. He says it’s to show how much can be done in a short amount of time (a single block of text as opposed to 50 panels), but I have a feeling the real reason is so that we, the readers, don’t actually get to see him doing any of this stuff. He doesn;t get an audience to such an embarrassing display and he gets to rub our faces in it.

She has me undertake the most intense workout routine paradox space has ever seen, all while whistling the entire discography of the Swedish pop group ABBA, which she's taken a liking to recently for some god forsaken reason.

Terezi likes ABBA? That’s amazing. I need a video of Terezi singing and dancing along with Dancing Queen now.

(... And which coincidentally was a favorite cultural weapon of Her Imperious Condescension back on Earth, centuries ago. Mamma Mia in particular was repurposed as a sugar-coated propagandist piece, calling for worldwide submission to the Batterwitch's dictatorship. "My my, how can I resist ya," as the old saying goes.)

HOLY SHIT. Now I just had a headcanon that all trolls love ABBA.

DIRK: I told you I could have fun.

TEREZI: Y34H YOU SUR3 SHOW3ED M3 1 GU3SS

Dirk, are you saying Terezi purposefully trying to torture you was actually fun? ... Are you secretly a masochist? Do you... Do you like being bossed around and forced to do ridiculous stunts? I am learning so many things about Dirk I never expected.

TEREZI: WH4TS TH1S TH1NG OV3R 1N TH3 CORN3R

TEREZI: UND3RN34TH TH1S B1G SH33T TH1NG

DIRK: Don't look in there.

TEREZI: OH SHHHH 1M ONLY T4K1NG 4 P33K

DIRK: Terezi.

DIRK: Listen to me.

TEREZI: 1M JUST L1FT1NG UP TH3 COV3R 4 L1TTL3 W4YS!!!!

DIRK: Terezi please stop talking right now.

TEREZI: D1RK HOLY SH1T

TEREZI: W

Well that sounds sinister. With Dirk I would think ti was a robot of some kind, but given his new hobby of collecting things from various timelines and his skill in building it could literally be anything.

At first I was confused at the three panels that follow, showing Dirk’s room in disarray, but then I rememebered that Dirk did a whole bunch of shit we didn’t get to see because we were in Book Time.

ROSEBOT: So, I guess today is finally the day everything's been heading towards.

I honestly thought she was going to say “today is finally the day we fuck everything up”. Not sure if the actual line counts as a callback or not now.

ROSEBOT: Instead, it feels like the very notion of fortune is simply out of the question as a means of describing the potential outcome.

ROSEBOT: As though in this moment, luck isn't either strictly real or not real, or somewhere inbetween, but absent of meaning completely.

ROSEBOT: Luck took one look at our itinerary from here on out and said you'll just have to go on without me.

So it’s Schrödinger's Luck of Who Gives a Shit? Been reading so much Dirk I tried to channel my inner Strider there. Moving on I feel like this is a very bad situation for Rose to be in. Her Aspect is luck, so what does it mean for her when she’s in a position like this?

ROSEBOT: You aren't going to believe this, but it turns out that the deranged horny ramblings of a spurned anime-obsessive have essentially no therapeutic properties whatsoever.

Rose is a gift.

I wish I could copy and paste Dirk’s whole spiel about the ocean, both literal and metaphorical, but since it’s Dirk it’s just way too long. Suffice to say I thought it was some lovely writing and really got the the meat of who Dirk is as a character. His loneliness, his fear, his eventual peace, what it means to be an ascended Prince of Heart. Good stuff.

DIRK: What's that noise I'm hearing.

DIRK: It sounds a little bit like a cat being caught in a ventilation fan. A sort of...

DIRK: Inhuman screeching, combined with the grinding of metal.

DIRK: Are we even going to make it to the ground?

ROSEBOT: Oh, no,

ROSEBOT: The ship's fine as far as I can tell.

ROSEBOT: That's just Terezi laughing.

Terezi is also a gift.

Then we end with a rather pretty image of the ship coming in for a crash landing on an Earth-like planet. I would share it, but it’s a tall panel and this post is long enough as it is. Very curious what this planet is. I would guess it might be a Earth, but the landmasses don’t look like any on Earth. Could be artistic license,  but I feel like we have too many Earths as it is. Let’s get some new planets up in here!

#homestuck 2 #homestuck 2 liveblog #liveblog #gal liveblogs