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steve0discusses · 3 years

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Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

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#Yugioh #YGO #yu gi oh #photo recap #episode recap #S5 #Ep19 #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Joey's fear of birds I've never heard about until this episode #Tea Gardner #Grandpa Muto #Tristan Taylor #Baby Dragon #This weird ass tranformer that Yugi is wearing.

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the-mercurial-star-o-vesper · 3 years

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1, 2, 3, 4, and Jaaaam~!

As time of writing, I’ve faced off and beaten 1010 on Normal. Wooo~!

So, more 1010 stuffz!

Either through updates or I've merely been watching play throughs with turned down graphics; Having now played the section, the 1010 battle and cutscene sprites now have their eyes the proper matching color. However, at this point, I ain't gonna discount or discourage the "White Eyes Synch" HC.

Turns out, according to Kliff’s brief, Neon J had been a Captain of the Cruiser. Now I don’t know about the time frames of the Royal Malaysian Navy, but for US Navy, it takes a collective of 21-23 years (at an estimate) to get to rank of Captain [No idea if this means starting at the rank of Seaman Recruit or starting as an O1; either way this dude was a full eagle]. Means, Neon J was in the military for a loooong time.

So, when you destroy a member of 1010, they leave remains behind that can be transformed to face off against other members of 1010 or as something benefitial for the PCs. Fanfic Writers, do with this as you may.

So only White (Rin) and Red (Zimelu) have parry attacks. Meaning they're the guys our PCs are more likely to go after first (The designated Leader; and the persumed more combative or warlike 1010 member / Bad Boy).

Barraca Mansion also has those five colored portraits.

The section of Metro Division leading up to the Boss Fight is just covered in dance-dance games.

According to the NSR-Post, type 4 Battledroids are still in service, and do in fact have background memories to hold in combat. In a previous post, I've already speculated that 1010 may have Neon J's memories...

Consider what it took to actually get to the boss fight. That's not just one limo, that's an entire floating fuckin escort with god damn canons. And not all of them were cars, half of em were akin to the Battleship Limo. Basically, Neon J didn't just command one ship, he had an entire fuckin Fleet.

Part of Neon J’s voicelines do call 1010 “robots”.

I know the section was mean to play for laughs, as a break from the character driven plot, but really reeeeally look at this level: - When you defeat a body of 1010, you can transform the remains to go against the other members. - You are actively being photographed / recorded fighting and doing all this damage to 1010. - The fact that Neon J acknowledge Yinu and had an entire escort, means he already knew you were coming and was actively preparing to face you - Which is probably why he had his factory out. Let's face it, 1010 are Battledroids with weapons included, and most folks don't even come to their stomachs in height. Unless a fan is wearing full Halo MJOLNIR power armor and wielding a Fallout Fatman, you don't need to break out an entire robot factory if anything happens. Plus, shields. Neon J knew that BBJ were coming, and prepared accordingly, hell, 1010 was actively waiting on you (even though none of it was enough) - Consider everything. Neon J was a captain who faced what might've been some pretty historically bloody and brutal wars, and while he did break out weapons... ... None of these weapons do ANY personal or permanent harm to you / BBJ. Not even the sawblades or the missiles. ... Hell, consider the jump over. Nearly none of the other boss security levels have flash when you fall off edges, you just sorta pop back up, but 1010's? There's a red flash that pops up when you fall off, as if something was actively teleporting you back on to the car platforms. ... Think there might be a chance that, while Neon J knew you were arriving, he might have had more sympathies for BBJ than previously considered? ... Consider 1010. A Mohawk (Red) is, after all, a very Rock based Hairstyle. And Yellow? Its a pompadour, a "Rockabilly" hairstyle. How bout Blue's Lennon Specs (The Beatles were a Rock Band)... And the biggest boy bands of the 60s were Rock Band. ... Neon J goes over the top with his loyalties to NSR, like, uber over the top. And even the game acknowledges that he's paranoid. Its almost like he's playing a Role...

Time. According to descriptions found by playing Zuke, NSR (at least) takes place after the 90s. While for Neon J, he has fought since the 60s (68; It sounds like he might’ve just gotten out of basic training, the way he talks). This leaves a 30-40 year time frame to consider. Take into consideration, however, that this world has flying battleship cars, robots, a virtual idol that isn’t holographic glass, and folks have duper supernatural powers. This could be in the 2100s or more for all we know.

A Change of Pace, HEADCANON TIME!

White is the Default Droid. Not so much in 1010, but in battledroid standards. You program in what you want the bot to be or do after the fact, and the color will indicate such. All battledroids have combative abilities, but their out of combat jobs are: - Red - Maintenance. (Believe it or not, a saw is pretty useful on a ship) - Blue - Parade (?). I mean, batons? - Green - Grenadier is kinda hard to find outside of the niche combat, but consider Fallout GOAT. Probably does a lot of background jobs, like laundry. - Yellow - Missiles. Probably a Bridge stationed bot, and does a lot of calculations. Missiles are a calculated effort to aim and launch. They're not Grenades where you pull the pin, and hope that it only goes off at the designated 5 seconds (and not sooner). - White - Default, and as we've seen with Rin, probably the kind that commands or acts as VIs (Virtual Intelligence, basically a smart interface).

1010 = Superhero fighting squad Oh please, a bunch of "young men" with color coded appearances and color coded weaponry, lead by a Captain with a Factory that actively replaces their bodies? And you're telling me they're ONLY a boy band? These dudes are fighting crimes like the god damn Power Rangers with all that equipment.

Neon J supported BBJ Consider all the above suggested. The Dude knew full feckin well that NSR wasn't the greatest of the great, and half the 1010 level proved that he was pretty much prepared for your arrival, and possible his own defeat. Let's face it, the dude was a Captain for a long damn time, and like commanded a small fleet in that time (not unlike the 1010 Level). You don't do stuff like that without some major strategy and awareness, ESPECIALLY, if you've survived entire wars and terrifying / inhuman conditions. Plus consider his over exaggerated speech. With all the evidence in mind, and all the visuals, the dude was definitely playing up his NSR schtick. There was nothing stopping him from just unleashing an entire army of invulnerable and shielded 1010 bots to root you out and stomp on you mercilessly. Believe me, this dude had the resources, the weapons, and the experience, to put out two brat indie bandmates.

He threw the fuckin fight.

... Though I'm pretty sure he didn't like the Breaking Yinu's Piano Part. At least for everyone else it was either a justified humiliation or just... unplugging stuff, not outright destroying priceless heirlooms. Notice how that's the only thing he mentions, and he's the only Megastar to take into account another Megastar (and that's excluding Tatiana).

1010 Memories The dance, the shared voice, the synchronization; oh yeah, 1010 probably had a share of Neon J's memories (though likely not all of them).

This goes hand in hand with the popular Fanon that 1010 were based on former Squadmates of Neon J's.

ITS CYAN Sorry, but we've seen the direct difference in Sayu's fight with the Glowsticks and we see Purl-Hew's bright cyan blue next to an actual neon Blue. Purl-Hew is Bright Cyan Blue, he's not Regular Blue. ... So you see, I like color theory and have a set and unbreakable idea of color patterns.

Rin's weapons I believe Rin's capabilities is Synchronization with his bandmates, and the capacity to use Shields. Remember that there is no Rin phase for the Factory, and the shields fall out of the fight immediately after Rin is perma-defeated. Plus, the quasi-Purple-Magenta color matches Rin's poster seen in both the fight and on Barraca Mansion.

#no straight roads #1010 (nsr)#neon j

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onehorseshay · 4 years

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Elizabeth Gillies’ Marriage

I might as well put my two cents (TL;DR) in regarding Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Gillies’ wedding to Michael Corcoran… …I’m still in shock about it. I’m shocked that it finally happened and didn’t see it coming to that point with them in the foreseeable future with how long they had already been together and apparently happy with their situation. I see that a lot of people are shocked for various reasons of not knowing she ever had a serious relationship all this time and others with deep, genuine concerns about their relationship with now having reached this point with how it started. For those of you that wish to know what is going on, he’s information I’ve pulled together over the years. Take what I say with a grain of salt as there is a bit of speculation and drawing conclusions, but I believe justified with the evidence I have on hand over the years. What do we know?

Well, they met during the filming of Victorious, either when Elizabeth was 15 or 16 years old, depending on when Victorious’ first season started filming in 2009 since her birthday is in July. Mike at the time was 36 years old doing music for Dan for his various televisions shows. The first visual confirmation of them meeting that I’ve been able to find was the filming her and Ariana singing the Drake and Josh theme with Mike playing in the background in late January of 2011. She was 17 and he was 38 at the time.

At some point between her 18th birthday in July of 2011 and February of 2013, Liz moved out from Ariana’s place, where she had been staying while filming Victorious, and into Mike’s home. We have a picture of them together during Halloween of 2012 and one can draw their own conclusion if they were together as a couple at that time. We have her hinting at the relationship in answering questions to her fans and a picture of them as shadows in March of 2013 and after this point, the pictures of her in his home with his dogs were being posted, prominently Steve the Dog. According to Liz from her Jimmy Kimmel interview conducted in the late summer of 2015 to promote SDRR, she moved in with Mike two weeks after they became a couple. Yes, she said that they dated only for two weeks before she decided to move in with him.

The first true acknowledgement from Liz that she had a boyfriend was a misspeak during a Zach interview in August of 2013. There is rare a picture of them kissing during a Halloween party at their home in 2013, but I don’t like posting clearly leaked pictures. You can freely disregard this point if you wish. In Daniella Monet’s recent podcast interviewing Liz, she acknowledged that had been a couple since at least December of 2013 due to her planning a surprise visitor for Mike’s Birthday—in context of being his girlfriend—while she was filming ‘Killing Daddy’ in Canada at the time. Their relationship continued until sometime in March/April of 2014 when they briefly broke up for several months. This is a controversial claim as there is contradictory information about this time. According to Liz in the same Jimmy Kimmel interview mentioned earlier, she had to leave Mike with her parents during one of their visits to her since they live in New Jersey and this was the first time they had met him to go film the pilot episode/potential TV movie for Sex&Drugs&Rock&Roll.

However, her explanation does not hold up. First, we are to believe they had not met the man their daughter had been living with for at least a year up to this point or never encountered with their previous visits to L.A. while Liz was filming Victorious?

Secondly, we can deduced they broke up by a long deleted tweet by Max Landis on 4-13-14, that he had a 20 year old friend break up with her 40 year old boyfriend because she thought he was immature. Yes, it is speculation that it is Liz he is speaking about, but the ages match her and Mike at the time and she was his friend at that time as well.

Thirdly, Liz briefly mentioned in a tweet about two weeks later that she had chipped her KCAs while moving, alluding to the fact she moved out of Mike’s place.

Fourthly, Liz alluded to her being a bad emotionally spot during the filming of the pilot to SDRR in a podcast with one of her costars for SDRR, something odd to say if her relationship was fine enough to leave her parents with him during the filming. It must have been a brief stay because she was photographed with her mother three days later for her mother’s birthday.

If one remembers, it was during this time, Liz dyed her hair completely blonde and was promoting ‘Animal’s’ release. Sometime before the end of the summer of 2014, they got back together and with a picture of them at his house during a party and not too long after that, she went back to her familiar dark hair color.

They continued being a couple during her time filming two seasons of SDRR with a very public pictures of them walking together in NYC in November of 2014. Their relationship continued mostly out of the spotlight of fans for the next five and a half years. She stayed in Georgia for 8 to 9 months out of the year starting in 2017 to film Dynasty. She would routinely go back to L.A. on the weekends to be at home with him. According to Vogue, she made a decision after Dynasty was renewed for a third season to suggest to Mike that they should buy a home in Georgia together to start a new phase in their lives. He accepted that and after closing of the house sometime in 2019, he proposed to her and she accepted.

Their original wedding date was for sometime in April of 2020, but was pushed back to August 8 then announced a few days ago that Liz and Mike had married. In their reporting, they said they had been together for six years at the time of the proposal while Matt Bennett had said they had been together a total of six years. It is interesting that they both say six years, but can’t agree on when to count backwards. Either way, I can say they’ve been together at least since she was 19, with Zach confirming it within 2 weeks of her 20th Birthday. Six years doesn’t cut it.

I hope that has caught people up with what can be gleaned from online sources with a little bit of speculation about the meaning of such information.

#Elizabeth Gillies #Liz Gillies #Backhouse Mike #Jade West #fallon carrington

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tar-oh · 4 years

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Pick-A -Pile: What will the rest of November be like for you?

Howdy there, folks! Sorry it’s been a while. But here I am! I have 3 new decks, so I wanted to use those. I have the Cosmic Tarot deck, which I’m excited to use because it’s from the 90′s. It’s also based somewhat off of old movie stars, too. It’s one of the most interesting decks I’ve seen just because of the interpretation the artist had on some cards, but I find that they’re fun to read intuitively. I also got the Light Seer’s Tarot from my best friend for my birthday. That one is fun because the artwork is beautiful and it’s got a lot of bright colors. The last is a new oracle deck I got called the Seasons of the Witch: Samhain Oracle, which is based around Halloween/Samhain. t’s very much Halloween/witch themed and has beautiful artwork and poetry on it. I also pulled moonology cards for each pile.

The question I asked for each pile was just what the rest of November will be like for you. I think it’s just better sometimes to let what needs to come through come through, and I have to say that there was a lot of healing and change that came through for each pile.

Here’s the piles to pick from:

So:

Pile 1 is the Opalite

Pile 2 is the Rose Quartz

Pile 3 is the Carnelian

I need to say that this is a general reading. It’s for a bunch of different people, so it’s not specific, nor does it mean it will resonate with you. If it doesn’t, I have a few other readings on my blog that aren’t time-specific and may give you insight. Otherwise, I may not be the reader for you. If you would like to reach out for a personal reading, my DM’s are always open and I will try to answer it ASAP. I recently got a cashapp, so if you’d like to tip (it’s not necessary), it’s $sarams.

SO. THAT BEING SAID ONTO THE READINGS:

Pile 1: Opalite

Cards: strength, 6 of pentacles, the moon, 8 of wands, 5 of cups, page of pentacles, 2 of wands, banshee, new moon in sagittarius

There's one word that keeps showing up with these cards for me, and that's CHANGE. The Banshee warns of you blocking change. New Moon in Sag suggests you might change your mind on something. The strength card in this particular deck suggests the transformation of energy. So, the word for your November is Change and I think these cards are saying that there will be change for you, but how it goes, it's up to you. You're asked to get out there. And by that, I don't necessarily mean going out and about (especially for those that COVID is still around, be safe guys!). I mean whatever that means for you. So for some, you want to put something on the internet. For example, if you're thinking of starting a new blog or even a youtube channel, this spread is telling you to do that. There's a lot of pentacles and wands in this spread. That tells me there's a lot of creativity and abundance within this. I don't always mean material wealth, I mean whatever that could mean to you. This could be a passion project, that you work on for fun. Or it could actually be something you plan on trying to make money from. This pile needs to realize their own power. The fact that the lady in the strength card is holding a tapestry with a lion on it furthers this idea for me. Lions in historical terms have always symbolized strength. I'm reading this as if she had the tapestry covering her whole body up, but she appears to be moving it away. I'm also assuming she's naked behind it, too, so it's like, stripping away a mask you might have had on. This idea that you were toning yourself down for everyone else, but now you're letting that fall away. You're being you, and unapologetically so. You have a lot to share and a lot to give, and you're a little hesitant about this. Perhaps, in the past, you had things not go the way you wanted when you put yourself out there. But, this is telling you to forget that. A lot of you are changing or going through changes, whether it be inside or how things external to you. But, you're also denying these changes? Like, okay right now Make Way by the Front Bottoms is playing, and he sings "I make way for the expensive things in my head." You have dreams, but these dreams cannot come into actualization until you make room. The Banshee card can read as a warning, and I'll get to that later. In order for new things to come in, there needs to be room. This Banshee card hints that you're not allowing there to be room.

As I was writing that I started to think about the 4 of pentacles from the Rider-Waite deck. On the card, he guy's hoarding the pentacle and the chest underneath him full of who knows what (knowledge? love? money?) but that card isn't present. But, my eyes were drawn to the 5 of cups where she's looking down into the hole that the cups are spilling into. It almost looks like a bit of her soul is spilling into it too. I read that as someone who poured a lot of effort into those cups, a lot of their soul too. But, in the end, it was all for naught. At least, that's how they see it. So they dump out all those cups and their soul goes with them. But, that's not what I mean by making room. In this card, she's so focused on what's lost, rather than what could come in. Behind her, there's this path and wide-open space, and the stars are out. It's so beautiful but her backs to it. You need to be able to turn around and run into that unknown. The moon definitely supports that idea to me, also this 8 of wands. The moon in this reading, to me, is you embracing the unknown. Like, walking into the future despite it not having certainty yet. As unsure as you are about what tomorrow, next week, or even next year holds, you need to be able to crawl out of that pond like that lobster. He's kind of jumping out of that pond at the moon like "HERE I AM!" I also see him as reaching towards the moon that's made up of two fishes. So, almost like he's grabbing at them like a prize. So, I want to be cheesy and say REACH FOR THE SKY! And, I don't know. Perhaps a bit of corniness is needed in this moment for you? 8 of wands also gave me that feeling too. It's an image of a man jumping through the air with those 8 wands and he looks ABSOLUTELY THRILLED. These cards are telling you to be excited because when you reach out, good things reach for you if that makes sense. Page of Pentacles and 2 of wands show me that there's something you are or will be working on that you want to share. These also tell me it's something that you need to be practical about sharing. Like, the way you go about it. It's a bit like you need to make sure that when you jump through the air with those wands, you're calculating where you land. So, it's telling you to jump, but not to be The Fool about it. Don't jump without looking. But also, not to sit still like that girl in the 2 of wands. She's looking out the window wishing when she could be going. The 6 of pentacles tells me that whatever you share is going to be valuable. Usually, this card is about give and take. Or, about being compassionate and empathetic. Having what you need and sharing it too. It could also mean someone is helping you out. But, today I'm seeing this as you having something that would be valuable to others. So, maybe you want to make a fitness vlog or you have a large knowledge about rocks or something and you want to write blog posts about them. And, this specific version of the 6 of pentacles is that this man is standing under a crescent moon. It looks to me like it was recently a new moon, and I kind of see those pentacles as other phases of the moon. So, to me, it's like you manifesting. The act of placing an intention on what you want to do or achieve between the new and full moons. Like, this man is under this newer moon and he is manifesting what he wants. He's also excited about what's to come despite it being unknown. Those 8 wands are telling you to DO IT. START IT. You got New Moon in Sagittarius, which has the line "Luck is on your side" written on the card. In the moonology deck, I read this as the equivalence of the Wheel of Fortune tarot card. I mean, it even mentions the wheel in the guidebook. This card is telling you to GO! Do it! You've got luck on your side, but to also stay open-minded. I did mention that the Banshee does serve as a warning. The card's keywords are bad omens and wrath. I don't want this to scare you, rather, I want you to take this and hug it. I'm laughing at myself for that last part, but seriously. This card is, to me, just death reversed. When death is in reverse, you're denying a transformation that needs to happen. Even denying the ending of something. This is telling you that things are changing. They will not, cannot stay the same and that this warns you against denying this. Change can be so beautiful. Like, I mean, think about butterflies and the transformation they go through? You could have that! This change could be physical or mental or in your external world. Either way, if you're able to embrace this change with open arms, you'll find that there's a lot of joy that comes with this. I do have to say that there is the risk of you getting a bit of a big head. I want to tell you to stay level-headed about everything that comes your way. I also have to bring that 5 of cups back up along with the banshee. These suggest this idea that you're focused on mourning an ending, but that you should let it go. A part of me doesn't agree with that completely. There is a certain amount of need to allow these things to fall away and not to mourn forever. But also, if you're still grieving it once those changes come in, that's okay. That whole, making way for the expensive things is something that one needs to do, but there's also this thought I have about making space...to just...allow things to be. Sitting with something. The song Unsaid Emily came on from Julie and the Phantoms. The story it tells is heartbreaking, and I found it fitting. The song is about regrets and wishing you could say something you never got to say. There's a part where he sings "If you could only know, I'd never let you go." This ties in because you can still have that past with you. You don't have to let it go completely, but there's also a point where wallowing in it doesn't help. So, it's like, this banshee/5 of cups combo is both a warning and the act of acceptance. Like, this acceptance that this happened. It's over, and we will have these thoughts on it for a while (they'll probably transform through time). But, they're there, and while we're embracing it we're also taking them and moving forward. It's this act of leaving it behind while simultaneously leaving room for it in your suitcase. All seriousness aside now, I think November is going to be good for you. I don't know if it's going to be super major in any way, but I know that it's going to at least be a stepping stone for the rest of your life. Maybe a lot of little things will happen that will only be worked into your memory years later as things that you can attribute to where you are. I just see joy and creativity in these cards and maybe hesitation, but its that hesitation before you jump and I see that when you land (in that calculated spot), you're going to be okay. And, honestly, I think right now, that's all we want to hear. Right? That we'll be okay? Songs:

Make Way - The Front Bottoms Unsaid Emily - Julie and the Phantoms Soundtrack Makeup - Oberhofer

Pile 2: Rose Quartz

Cards: Queen of Swords, Two of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, Temperance, 4 of Wands, King of Wands, Full Moon Eclipse, Wolf One thing that's coming through strongly is that you need to follow your intuition. In the song Wild Roses by Of Monsters and Men, there are the lyrics "I followed a feeling". Even more, in the song Don't Give Up Your Ghost by Movements, they talk about not letting your demons get the best of you. Not letting those dreams you had go. And so, you follow them and chase that feeling, whatever that means to you. The card Wolf's keywords are instinct and freedom. It's the last card of the Seasons of the Witch deck, and with it comes this sense of completion. The Full Moon Eclipse speaks of conclusions being within reach. These conclusions are doors that have closed. But with these cards, while I see contemplation in some (queen of swords, temperance, even King of Wands), I also see movement. In 4 of Wands, they're dancing. In King of Wands, he does look stationary, but he also looks as if he's going to step forward at any moment. In two of pentacles, he's trying to keep his balance, but it looks like he's also trying to move forward too. So, there's a sense of forward movement, but with it comes this act of never looking back. There's a chance you'll face a decision in November. With the Queen of Swords and Temperance, you're asked to stop for a moment and be logical. To balance out the practicalities and the emotions. But, with it comes a beginning, one that can prove to be very fulfilling to you. There's a chance that this leads to a celebration, as well. Either way, you're asked to weigh the options while also keeping in mind that whatever you're leaving behind stays behind you. The last pile was also about moving forward and change. But, it was also a gentle reminder to hold your values and memories close to your heart. Whereas, with this pile, you need to hold those values and memories, but not as closely. At a distance where you can see them to keep perspective, but far enough away that they're not pulling you back to that door. And, by the way, that door will be locked. I don't know what this could be that you can't go back on. I mean, I guess it's like something that you just can't relive. Maybe it's that thing where nothing's ever the same again. Either way, it's like this spread is begging you to move forward. Ah! The song that came on is Kill My Time by 5 seconds of summer. There's a line, "Why don't you just say goodbye now. It's only a matter of time," which goes perfectly with what I just said. It's like, whatever is reaching it's conclusion. It's as if you've ridden that wave and you're at the end of it. You've run out of a wave to ride, so it's time to find another. On the wolf card, it says "Run wildy into the freedom of your knowing", so 1. definitely feeling the moon card here. But also 2. you're released from whatever is concluding. Also, the moon, it's about mysteries and the unknown and in the last pile they got it and it was telling them to jump into the unknown. I see that you guys are asked to jump into the unknown as well. Though something tells me that you guys have a bit more of an idea of what's going on. The queen of swords looks like she knows and that wolf howling at the moon knows something too. There's this feeling of the unknown but also knowing the unknown here. But, then with this unknown/decision you might have to make, you're reminded to keep balanced. In the temperance card, he's holding the moon in one hand and the sun in another. So, it's like night and day. I think that's suggesting this need for a schedule. Like, maybe a set bedtime? You guys could possibly be more of the night owl type. I guess, in that case, it's just a reminder to get an adequate amount of sleep. So, still setting a set time for sleep and a set time for waking up. Also, it's telling you to take care of yourself overall. The two of pentacles also brings that idea of balance because I mean, this card is about keeping up with everything. It's like, having two things and being able to balance them. Some of the versions of this make it seem like it's time to focus on one and stop trying to do both. In this deck, because the act of balancing is actually his body trying not to fall in the water, I see that this balance of keeping up different things at once is essential. So, say you're in school but you're also working. You're asked to keep up the hard work in both your school work and work-work, while also taking care of yourself. Assuring that you don't fall into the water. On the 2 of pentacles here, the pentacles are on his shirt. He already has these pentacles and I don't see him losing them. Unless he discards the shirt, so it's like unless you actually quit your job or school, you can't really lose them. You can lose the quality, but not the actual pentacle. My favorite thing about the Light Seer's Tarot is that each card has an affirmation. These sum up the card as a whole. Despite the 2 of pentacles being from the Cosmic Tarot, I think the affirmation is particularly noteworthy here: "I create an equilibrium in my life that allows me to be my best self." So, for November I see you going through a door that will close. This door is meant to be closed, but it doesn't mean it can't have a window you can peer into once and a while. You're just not meant to go back through it. Instead, you're meant to step forward into your future. I see that this is going to be abundant. You're asked to remember to follow your gut instincts, but also to keep balanced. To be honest, kind of like the crystal you chose, I just feel a lot of love. And I'm not really reading that as love from someone else (I mean, yes, there could very well be that), instead, I'm reading it as you just radiating love. So, I could say...November sounds lovely for you...lol Songs: Wild Roses - Of Monsters and Men Don’t Give Up Your Ghost - Movements Kill My Time - 5 Seconds of Summer Group 3: Carnelian

Cards: The Empress, The Lovers, Death, Queen of Swords, the Sun, 7 of Pentacles, New Moon in Virgo, Blue Moon, Journey Okay, I'm a little weirded out by the whole shuffling process. Several things happened that were kind of...Oof. First I kept seeing the Queen of Swords and was thinking "I bet that's gonna come out somewhere" and it DID. Then I saw that your Seasons of the Witch card was 24, which adds to 6, which in tarot is the lovers. I've read that 6s can mean journeys too. Well, THEN the lovers came out. Bottom deck energy for the Seasons of the witch is the All Hallow's Eve card. This made me wonder if your "journey" started on Halloween. Well, guys, then the Blue Moon card fell out, and that full moon on Halloween was a blue moon. Granted, all of these are coincidental, but it's just funny how those things work out. If you think something shifted for you on Halloween, then you're correct with thinking that. For some, it's with a love connection. For others, it was you just being able to figure out a little better on where you want to go in life, or where you're headed. So, jumping in, I want to focus on the Empress card first. I love this version because she looks so much more comfortable to me than any of the other empress cards I've seen. She looks relaxed like she has everything she needs. And, I do think one could say materially she has what she needs, but she also looks like she provided it for herself. Nothing on this card suggests it other than her face. She just looks sure of herself. Moving on to the Queen of Swords, while I get a colder energy from her, she also looks kind of similar. She's not in the same posture completely. Her posture could even be argued as not looking very relaxed, but her face makes it look like she's relaxed. She looks like she's content with where she sits. She's looking off into the sky, like, though she's content with where she's at, she's also looking for something. Maybe she's searching in her own brain or scanning the world off of where the card cuts us off from what she sees. They both have their hands to their chins, one seems more sure of herself, but the other still seems sure. So, what I take away from these two cards right away is that you know yourself. Maybe you're saying, "But Sara, I'm only just figuring out who I am?" And, yeah. So am I. Life is this process where we're constantly evolving. One week you have one belief, and the next that could have changed because you've learned 100 new things. You have both the Death and the Journey card. With the lovers and these two other cards, this is saying to me that you are changing. Nothing will be the same next week and nothing will be the same the week after, but you understand your goals and your values and at the end of the day, you're still you. I almost feel that I need to stop and reassure this pile that you're still you. Maybe you've been looking in the mirror lately and not recognizing yourself. Maybe people have been saying things like "I don't know you anymore", but you're still you! YOU ARE STILL YOU! And, this is also telling you to stop, take stock of who you are at this very moment. Be sure of it. That sounds hard to me, so I can understand if you think it does too. But there are things we're sure of. Like your values. Your sense of right and wrong. Hell, the music genre you gravitate towards the most. Those are you and you alone. So, take a moment, take a breath, and think about yourself. Now, I want you to take another moment to just love yourself. No if, ands, or buts. I mean, it. Stop and say to yourself "I love me." And I need you do to it with kindness. Forget the person you flipped off while driving yesterday. Forget that last mean thing you said to someone. Forget that bad grade you got when you were 13 because you were too focused on that band that came to town. Forget it all for a second and take this time to just breathe in and love yourself for who you are in the moment. Okay. Now that that's done. Onto what's coming. Well, like the other two piles change. Everyone today seems to be going through changes. Though, it's different for everyone. Pile one was asked to take a calculated risk, but still go for it. Pile two was asked to move forward and to not move backwards. You're asked to move forward gently. And I don't mean cautiously, though with New Moon in Virgo, I'd say there is some calculation needed here. But, I still don't mean cautiously. I mean, with love. With kindness. With you being the best that you can be to others and yourself. Something is just telling me that someone reading this is really upset with themselves, and I just want you to know that while you're still you and there are some of those core things that you still have, you're also not the same person you were yesterday or 5 hours ago, and that's okay. That's life. And you need to understand that we all fuck up and we all say things we don't mean sometimes, but that doesn't set anything in stone. That doesn't define you as a horrible person. Shit happens and sometimes that shit happens because we did it. But? I still love you and you should still love you too. The more you stop to love yourself and be kind to yourself, the more you're going to discover about yourself. And while you're discovering yourself, there's a need to look ahead while simultaneously staying present. On the Death card, there's a clock stuck in the ground, frozen. I almost want to say to you that time doesn't matter. I mean, yes if you have a shift that starts at 10, by all means, go to it on time. But, in the grand scheme of things, time doesn't matter, and for you, it means that your path is not linear, nor does it have a set schedule. God, I cannot believe I'm doing this, but I had a manager that I have to quote. He once said to me that he didn't believe in time. As a history major, that confused me to no end. Like, I got where he was coming from, but my whole life consists of time time time. I thought in dates. I know dates well and dates are time. But now I kind of see it. It's this idea that life isn't time, it's lessons. Does that make sense? And, I think that's what he meant, lol. He also tended to be really cryptic so, I could be totally wrong, but this is what I'm taking from the whole thing. The Journey card from the Seasons of the Witch deck says something along the same vein to me: "Daughters of our Mother, walkers of the unknown, take with you on this journey all that you hone." So, all we need is to live and take those lessons with us as we live. And, the Virgo card also reminds me of Virgos in general. They're known to be super analytical, so there's this thought that while you need to take lessons at their face value, you also need to dive into them too. It's like reading a book by its cover. There are things to take from that cover, like how the title font presents itself to you and what the illustration/picture is, but then there's also the content inside the book. Both the cover and the content matter. Don't judge a book by its cover, but also take in what's presented to you. The seven of pentacles always means have patience whenever I pull it for myself, so I read it that way for you too. There is no set schedule (like that whole time thing, right? it's nonexistent) and that might make you antsy. But, what good does that do? You could be chilling like the Empress. Or, you could be sitting and watching that cucumber you planted last week sprout, despite knowing that it's still going to take time. One definitely sounds more relaxing. 7 of Pentacles suggests this patience because it takes more than a week for a good thing to grow, you know? And, I mean, yeah you can make things in a day, but there's that saying, "Rome wasn't built in a day." Rome was built over a VERY long period of time, going through different types of governments and it switched around between paganism and Christianity. There were a lot of changes within that long period of time. I know I went on a rant earlier about time and how it's nonexistent, and blah blah blah. However, there's also this idea that even though you need to not be focusing on time, you also need to know that for things that are quality, it takes time. Like, time and effort. No half-assed shit, right? But, I mean that in a loving way. And, this, by all means, is about you changing. So, this is something that is going to take time to hone in on. Something that's going to take finesse. It's going to take experience and love. That may be something hard to hear. Trust me, I know this. Depression is a beast and I know how that and other mental illness can really fuck with you and your perception of the world and of yourself. But, both 7 of Pentacles and New Moon in Virgo suggest taking a moment and looking at where you are and where you're going. So, again, that idea of staying present while also moving forward. But, also being analytical (but not OVER analytical). And while you're looking at where you are, there's a need to stop and be okay with where you're at, too. This is especially for my buds who are having a hard time mentally. I know that when you're in the thick of it, it's hard to get out of the fog. That some days, or even weeks, you end it with tears and it's hard to stay motivated to do anything. With me, it's a bad cycle where I lack that motivation, but to feel worthy I need to be working. It's a cruel thing that I do to myself, because my worth is not within my productivity, and I think as a society that's something (at least for all my American friends) we need to remember. There are days when the only thing you do is just getting out of bed to get food and honestly, that's better than nothing. So, it's taking stock of the things, little and big, that you accomplish. Which, that definitely adds to that idea that time for you is not linear and that it's going to take you more time to do things other people can get done in a week or two. But, then on the flip-side, there are other things that will take you less time than it would for someone else. Nothing's linear and no one's the same. No one's path is a duplicate of someone else's journey. Harry Style's song, Golden came on. There's that line where he says "You're so golden", and I think you need to hear that right now. It definitely makes me think of the Sun card, which you got. It's this card of immense happiness. Abundance. It's a beautiful card and in this deck, it's bright, super bright. So, yeah. I'd say you're so golden. And I think this is more a matter of you being the sun like you need to stop and see yourself as that. Maybe you're someone that gives so much to others but not yourself. Honestly, from what I was getting earlier I can see that. So, maybe circling back to how relaxed both the Empress and the Queen of Swords look, maybe this is a message to you to relax? Relaxing and maybe taking stock of those lessons that have been presented to you. There's also a need to take care of yourself with the New Moon in Virgo. It just suggests eating healthier and what-not, so I'd add that to the relaxation. Like, relax and take care of yourself. And, gosh, again, I gotta bring up depression because it's really simple for me to be like "HEY YOU! Take care of your body!" but, I know what it's like to not want to exist. So, if that's the case, I want you to take it day by day, breath by breath. Start out small, get a glass of water, take some deep breaths. Do something that makes you feel good (that's also not detrimental to your health). I also think you're asked to believe that you can accomplish what you want to accomplish. It's like, you can achieve so much, but you also have to make sure that you're taking care of yourself on your way. So while there could be obstacles outside of you, you're your biggest obstacle. One thing I should note is that you got the Blue Moon card. This suggests that you may get an opportunity of some sort that's rare. Now, this could mean a lot of things with these other cards. One I can see is travel with the journey card. I see it more as outside into nature really, with the colors from the Virgo card and the forest on the Blue Moon card. Like, a camping trip? Honestly, right now I'd give anything to go camping, so if you go, send me pictures! Another for someone is maybe meeting someone you click well with, whether it be platonically or romantically with the Lovers. If that's the case, I see this relationship being really good, like nurturing and abundant. Full of joy and good times. Another is maybe just a chance to just take a step back and rest with both the Empress and the Queen of swords. Either way, I see this as being something that you consider to be good. It will also transform you in some way, more than how you're changing now. I can't really get into more because it just feels like this is super general because I feel like a lot of you are choosing this pile. I do suggest that if you felt called to the other two piles, I'd go look at them since they're all about change too. The bottom of one of the decks is the Star, so I see that there is a hopeful energy to this and that whatever is going to happen, you're going to start feeling more hopeful. But also, promise me you'll be kind to yourselves? Music:

Golden - Harry Styles Was It Something I Said? - Mykey

#tarot #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot reading #november pick a pile

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littleeyesofpallas · 4 years

Photo

Since I did just reference this in a previous post, I figure this is worth covering, however brief...

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ULQUIORRA: ――只今戻りました藍染様

I'm home, Lord Aizen

AIZEN: おかえりウルキオラヤミー

Welcome home, ULQUIORRA, YAMMY

“Tadaima“ is the phrase you say when entering your own occupied home, and “Okaeri“ is the phrase you say when welcoming someone home. They don’t literally mean the same as “I'm home” and “Welcome home” word for word (they’re both shortened from longer formal phrases) but they function the same in the common context. What doesn’t come across here is that this isn’t a casual exchange, it has this weird pretense of, like, playing house, almost?

I don’t know how to explain it since there really isn’t a good English equivalent, since we don’t really have as much super formal speech as the Japanese. There is just something a little out of place about the way it’s being used here, because this isn’t really within the realms of it’s normal, grounded and casual real world usage. The idea that Aizen has designated this place as “Home” creates a certain mood about the way this scene ends the chapter, and colors the scene change itself as a very distinctly dark and moody kind of shift.

It’s definitely lost in translation, but to be fair to the translators, I don’t really know how I’d go about trying to communicate something this subtle, because any attempt to explain it immediately robs it of that very subtly. Language is hard, guys...

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さあ戌果を聞かせてくれ

Come now, let me know the result(s)

我等二十の同胞の前で

In front of your compatriots of we 20

It’s a curious remark to make, and seemed to sum up the odds the heroes would be facing. We had just learned that by Hitsugaya’s estimation “10 Vastlord” would be enough to topple Soul Society. And so that idea that potentially twice that many were already under Aizen’s command was a big threat, and set up the arc as if it would be a guessing game of which background characters would eventually be revealed as any of the 10 necessary power houses to defeat Soul Society... But as we all know that’s not a hook that ever actually got used...

But also, a key word here being,

Curiously Aizen seems to count himself among Ulquiorra’s “countrymen” or “compatriots” suggesting he’s not talking about the Arrancar specifically but just the forces of Los Noches. There are 17 silhouettes, so with Aizen, Gin, and Tousen that makes 20 other than Yammy and Ulquiorra themselves. But they’re the one’s being spoken to (what I assume is collectively) so obviously it doesn’t count Ulq, but I assume it also doesn’t count Yammy.

Alternatively I’m overthinking that detail and it’s just that there are a few shadowy blobs missing and Aizen really does mean 20 Arrancar. In which case the phrase could be translated as “Brethren” or “Brothers” more effectively.

Either way it creates a very distinct tone of familial or factional unity, which ironically gets immediately bucked when Grimmjow starts mouthing off the very next chapter as the scene continues. I think that’s very intentional though, and not just Kubo’s often shaky writing; I think he means for this whole sense of unity and organization framing the Arrancar to feel fake or forced. It’s Aizen playing house with all this, the Arrancar are all just in it for themselves and as Hollows have a kind of natural resistance to Aizen bringing in this very Soul Society-like social/military structure. It’s a neat detail to this early world building Kubo had to do to set up the new arc...

But while we’re here, let’s actually do a headcount real quick...

Ulquiorra and Yammy are of course already introduced going into Chapter 198, and Chapter 197 ended on the “20 brethren” line.

In 198 Grimmjow is named for the first time, and in the background we see DiRoy and Shawlong with him, who get named in the next chapter.

Since the attack happens almost immediately after this, and I think it’s safe to assume Grimmjow’s gang wasn’t made in the intervening hours, Nakeem, Edrad, and Yylfordt are presumably among The 20.

But also seen in 198 are 3 unnamed (and indeed never to be seen again) Arrancar

And with them, a very early design of Tier Harribel.

So, the above pictured are all the Arrancar we know of, up to that point, and we won’t count Ulq and Yammy, but that’s still half “The 20″ right there.

But let’s take this a step further, just for laughs...

We know Aisslinger Wernarr is loitering around somewhere, and he was first seen along with DiRoy way back in Chapter 25, plus later databooks will establish that he is Arrancar #17.

We later find out the Privaron were the previous Espada, replaced by the current ones, that adds Dordonii, Cirucci, and Gantenbain to the count.

Looking ahead a ways.... When Zomarri moves to finish off Rukia after her fight with Aaronierro, he mentions that Aaronierro is the “last of the original Espada” which should logically also place him among The 20. It should also make him older than the rest of the Espada who presumably were born afterwards and not born first then powered up after the fact...

But here’s where things get tangled... this means that Yammy, Ulquiorra, Grimmjow and Tier are all part of a second set of Espada, because Dordonii, Cirucci, Gantenbain and Aaroniero make up the original generation. (I’m not getting into 102 or 100, covered in the LNs) But Kubo establishes later that Grimmjow was once Arrancar #12 before becoming #6. If that’s so, then presumably all the Espada have a birth number prior to their Espada rank.

So, if the only Arrancar are in the room, (and if we just assume Aizen & crew don’t count) then they are implicitly the 20 oldest surviving Arrancar. Then based on numbers, as Kubo would eventually give us through databooks and the manga itself, most of 11-30 are accounted for, and we know based on the fact that they all appeared alive and not as part of some flashback or references to the deceased, that they were alive during this scene...

In fact, only #19, 21, 23, 28, 29, 30, were never assigned to a character. But that means we’ve only got 6 slots in The 20. Even if we assume the other 6 implied original Espada died when being replaced, leaving only 103, 105, 107, and 9, that’s still 8 Arrancar either visibly in this scene or implicitly present at the scene that can’t fit into the mere 6 empty slots we’ve got.

This also implies that anyone not in that 20 count were “born” as Arrancar inbetween this scene and their first appearance. Most notably problematic in that is Nnoitra, Tesra, Szayelaporro, Nel, Pesche, and Dondochakka, all of whom show up in an indistinctly placed flashback. And even more contradictory than what’s already tangled here...

Tesra was actually given a number, and he’s Arrancar #50, which means that in between the scene with “The 20″ and Nnoitra’s flashback the other ~20+ Arrancar had to be made first AND THEN the whole drama in the flashback.

Also, when Wonderweiss is born he’s #77, and Nnoitra is present at that scene already in his cobra/spoon hood, rather than the regular high collar he wears in his flashback.

All of which means that Nel was only out there in the desert in baby form for like, a week or two, tops? (I have a whole other giant theory on what she was supposed to be, but that rant will have to wait for another time...)

Anyway, I know it’s really just sort of obvious that Kubo didn’t pay any attention to, or plan any kind of continuity between the start and end of the Arrancar arc, so it seems silly to go to all this trouble just to come to a very obvious conclusion, but I figured that so long as I got this all here in front of me I might as well show the work on that equation for once.

==============================================

Also, before we end, a notable detail in this scene: It’s the first time we see Aizen’s fortress of Los Noches, although it hasn’t been named yet. And although it has tiled floors and Aizen’s big blocky throne atop a sheer wall, the Arrancar appear to be situated on a naturally occurring rocky surface like a cliff. And the establishing shots here and elsewhere seem to suggest an open air structure, rather than an enclosed building like what Ichigo & co. would eventually invade.

On the one hand this may have just been a change in design on Kubo’s part, as much of the Arrancar as seen in these early phases would later be changed and tweaked, but it’s also possible that this is showing that Los Noches was only recently constructed, basically being built entirely from the ground up in the course of the month or two between Aizen’s retreat into Hueco Mundo with the Menos Grande at the end of the Soul Society arc and the eventual storm of the completed fortress.

When Grimmjow returns from Karakura town alone, Aizen’s throne room has already changed noticeably: The rocks have been cleared from in front of his throne, there are new walls and broad pillars where there used to be just narrow rods and draped cloth. Also the vague shadowy backdrop that seemed to imply an open sky is gone, and there is now a ceiling, plus nearby structures clearly establish that the throne room is indoors now.

#bleach #ulquiorra cifer #aizen sousuke #Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

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votederpycausemufins · 4 years

Text

Chapter 19: Injuries

this is cross posted on Ao3 (my username is causemufins)

We finally find out what Lila was planning and it doesn't just cause emotional wounds to form.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chloé watched at Marinette stumbled into the classroom. It was fortunately before the bell, but it was getting close. “Dupain-Cheng! Go back out there! We need to talk…”

Marinette looked up in shock, bags under her eyes. If Chloe didn’t still have the earrings, she would think there was some late night akuma that kept the designer and Chat up. She opened her mouth to say something before Chloé grabbed the other girl’s arm and dragged her out of the classroom.

“Chloé, what are you doing?” Marinette asked before Chloé put the earrings in Marinette’s hand.

“It’s been a good amount of time. You can come back from your vacation or whatever. In the few fights I’ve had, Chat and I managed to win but it was always extremely close. It’s safer if you’re in charge.”

Marinette looked down at the earrings before hugging Chloé. “You still did amazing! Thank you. Both for taking charge and… to be honest, also for giving me a break I needed.”

“Of course. Maybe if you need a break in the future, hopefully a while from now, I can be Scarlet Lady again? Of course I don’t need to with Pollen which is why the warmer months are utterly ridiculous, and unfortunately my father can’t ban plants.”

Marinette looked at Chloé, obviously confused. The blonde however, was just glaring at Lila, who was coming their way. “Hi, did I hear you have pollen allergies? One of my cousins has actually been working on a way to help cure them.”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “Oh quit your BS Lie-la. I don’t know what demon you made a deal with to make everyone keep believing you, but it won’t work on a few of us.”

The smile Lila gave next made Chloé want to snap her in two. “You mean people like Alya? I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I have ways to get around a number of problems such as her knowing I’m a liar.”

Just before Chloé could step forward to strangle Lila, the bell rang and she begrudgingly had to go into the classroom and take her seat. However, as she entered the room, a few of the other students were moving away from Samantha, who was trying to keep from crying and starting to fail at that. While Chloé wanted to figure out what Lila had done, because it just had to be Lila’s fault, Bustier started her lesson.

As the class went on, Chloé kept sneaking glances towards Sam. It seemed that she had managed to calm down somewhat with everyone mostly focused on class. Fortunately everyone that had been harassing Sam was sitting on the other side of the room. The only problem person near the newbie was Lila, who was keeping her mouth shut for whatever reason.

What surprised Chloé most was Alya coming in late, looking like she had been crying, and the first thing she did upon entering, was glaring straight at Sam. Now that grabbed Chloé’s attention, especially when it seemed to make Samantha look worse. Fortunately, Marinette seemed to notice too, so if they had an akuma on their hands, she would be prepared.

Because of class, things were theoretically calm. A number of people were tense from what happened earlier, especially the new girl, but no akuma came until they reached lunch. At lunch, things bubbled up again. Chloé quickly grabbed Sabrina and Marinette and dragged them over to where Sam had seated herself. Even if people didn’t like any of them. There still wouldn’t be as many people approaching a whole group as there would if Samantha were all alone.

Still, not everyone left them alone. Alya stomped over, looking like she might kill or just seriously maim one of the group of girls. Chloé turned to face the reporter, making her hesitate slightly, but Alya didn’t fully stop. “You shouldn’t be hanging out with her.”

Chloé wasn’t phased by Alya’s tone. “Oh really? What lie did Lila tell now?”

Alya fumed for a few moments before responding. “Lila didn’t say anything. The other girls have been keeping me informed. Sam’s trying to steal Nino from me! I’m his girlfriend! You can’t just try to make him yours!”

“I-I’m not trying to do anything like that. He’s just been-” Sam started but got cut off.

“You’ve been practically hanging off of him outside of school and I saw him give you something, likely a gift.”

“Have you been stalking her Césaire?” Chloé glared at Alya. “If you have, it was likely from a distance, so you can’t know everything.”

“I wasn’t stalking them! I was looking for Nino the other day and saw them together. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I know the whole story.” Alya explained, trying to get focus off of her.

It didn’t work as Marinette spoke up. “Alya, someone who was in Bustier’s class with Nino and I last year has their birthday coming up. Nino can’t make it that day, but since Sam also does a bit of djing, she was asked to help with the party instead. Nino’s been helping her out since there’s not as much time to prepare. I know he gave her a mix on a cd a few days ago so that might have been what you’ve seen.”

“Then what about what everyone’s sent?” Alya asked, showing off some texts and images she had been given.

“Um, Chloé? Marinette?” Sabrina said meekly before Chloé cut her off.

“It’s probably Lila using the other girls as proxy so you’ll believe it. I bet she’s a pro at photoshop so she can make images to trick people.”

“Marinette. Sam is-”

“Plus, Lila sent me a message last night.” Marinette held her own phone up to Alya, showing the texts from last night. “She wanted this to happen. Probably to-”

This time Sabrina was able to cut the others off. “Sam already ran off and could be akumatized any moment!”

The three other girls looked to Sabrina before noticing the missing blonde. “Marinette, you know Sam better than the rest of us.” Chloé said, taking charge. “I’ll go after her. Alya could make it worse since it’s about her and I know you’re still not the best in situations like this because of me Sabrina.”

The other three agreed and people went their separate ways. Sabrina didn’t want to get involved. Alya started getting ready to record for the Ladyblog and Spot-Light. Marinette ran off to supposedly get people or things to help calm Samantha, but Chloé knew it was really to transform. At the same time, Chloé followed after the other blonde.

It didn’t take long to find her as with Lunch, not many people were in the classrooms. Chloé started to open the door but it was shoved from the other side to keep it closed. “Don’t come in here!”

“Sam, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Okay no. But I’ve got a friend on video call and they’re trying to help. Just make sure not to let anyone in. I might be akumatized but I’m trying really hard not to be akumatized. It’s just, it’s so frustrating! How can people still believe Lila.”

Chloé almost answered, but Sam’s friend managed to beat her to the punch. “Samantha, facts can easily be warped. And this girl has warped them into a labyrinth. A labyrinth she can change as she pleases. When they finally found an exit, she changed the path and brought them to the minotaur instead. It is those with golden thread like yourself who are able to escape her clutches.”

“I know Min. I just… there’s too much going on. Even someone who knew the truth couldn’t escape. I couldn’t do anything.” Chloé could hear the pain in Sam’s voice. It wasn’t the same as Marinette’s had been that day in the bathroom, but it was similar. The voice of someone ready to give up.

“Samantha, you’ll have to do it now. You have 4.28 seconds.” Now that part caught Chloé off guard. Do what now? And what was that timing? Chloé remembered Sam talking about her old friends and one of them who was around the same level of intelligence as Max, but their name definitely wasn’t Min or something like that. Was Sam actually lying to them too? Then there was some mumbling from Sam before her friend spoke again. “I know you don’t. I guess I’m-”

They were cut off and Chloé could hear the faint bubbling that belonged to Hawkmoth’s power. Sam was akumatized. The blonde tried to run, but it felt like her feet were stuck to the floor. It didn’t take long for the doors to burst open, not by Sam’s hands, but by an explosion of music. It threw Chloé back against the fence of the balcony floor, grabbing onto it for dear life to keep from falling to the floor below. Just before her grip could give out, the music stopped and there stood Sam.

She was extremely pink with her hair a bright bubblegum shade of the color. A lighter shade made a bodysuit that covered from her neck down other than her arms, which wore dark pink fingerless gloves. Around her waist was a translucent green skirt, and a similar fabric made faux sleeves at the top of the body suit. Light blue accented the bodysuit, and wings of a similar color along with some light pink were behind her, disconnected slightly and just floating there.

“S-Sam?” Chloé panted out, really hoping Marinette would get here right now. The akuma looked angrier at the name so the blonde quickly corrected herself so she wouldn’t be sonic blasted a second time. “S-Sorry. Who are you now?”

“I am Angel Rock! Wanting to work and improve my music ended up hurting me, so now I’m going to use it to hurt others!” One of the blue accents that made a small triangle on Angel Rock’s chest suddenly started growing as she grabbed one of the ears of her headphones. Chloé realized that probably meant they were about to attack so she quickly moved out of the way just before another music blast destroyed the fence barrier.

A few people below who had been surprised by the new akuma were hit by the fence and were pinned under it. For a moment, Chloé watched in horror as the akuma started to move towards the other students. She wasn’t even thinking that much before she yelled at them. “What a loser! You think you could be hurt by music? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

The blonde didn’t notice if anyone glared. She didn’t care if anyone who heard that hated her yelling at the akuma. All she cared about was Angel Rock was now focused on her, so she started running.

As Chloé ran, she kept looking back behind her at Angel Rock. Her first thought was the akuma would be in the headphones, but there was one thing that stood out more. On Angel’s wrist was the gold bracelet Sam always wore. It had to be in there or at least the large golden gem on it.

The blonde had to stop thinking about that as she turned and found herself at a dead end. There was still a classroom to go into, but there would still be no exit from there. If she had more time, maybe she would get the chance to become Abelle, but Angel Rock was too close.

The shape on the akuma’s chest grew and suddenly rock music exploded into Chloé as she decided to reach for the door. The door was ripped off its hinges and both it and Chloé went flying into the windows on the opposite side of the room. The size of the door kept it from going out the window as well as Chloé as she mostly ended up pressed against it, but there were still broken shards of glass that managed to make a few cuts on the girl.

Just before another attack could come, Chloé heard the whizz of Ladybug’s yo-yo and a moment later it had wrapped around Angel Rock and pulled her back. No longer held up by the pressure from the soundwaves, the door clattered to the ground along with Chloé. She felt a cut on her head. It was definitely bleeding, but it wasn’t much blood for a head wound, so she was probably okay.

“My Queen, we may want to assist Ladybug!” Pollen popped out of Chloé’s purse which slightly surprised her in the fact that it was still there after all the akuma had done. “And even if we are not needed, transforming should at least help the injuries a little.”

“You’re right Pollen. I’m helping out whether Ladybug wants me to or not! Pollen, Buzz on!”

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #alya cesaire #akuma oc

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dustedmagazine · 4 years

Text

Dust Volume 6, Number 5

Courtney Marie Andrews

The lockdown continues, and live music has disappeared, replaced by a somewhat antiseptic and unsatisfying spate of live streamed shows mostly one person with a guitar on the couch in their living room. We salute the courage and the effort but miss bands and audiences and even the chatter drifting in from the bar area. In the meantime, at least for now, there are still lots of new records vying for our attention. We present this Dust to catch up with some of them. It’s an ecletic survey of contemporary classical, vengeful hip hop, psyche, jazz, folk and metal artists, all continuing to try to navigate a very difficult period. Our writers this time include many of the usual suspects, Bill Meyer, Ray Garraty, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Tobias Carroll and Patrick Masterson.

a•pe•ri•od•ic—For (New Focus Recordings)

for a•pe•ri•od•ic by a•pe•ri•od•ic

Silence is a rhythm, too, and a•pe•ri•od•ic dances to it repeatedly throughout their second recording. The Chicago-based ensemble has traversed the new music continuum, performing music by composers from Peter Ablinger to Christian Wolff. Sometimes that silence isn’t quite what you want to hear — the COVID-19 pandemic cut short its tenth anniversary spring season one concert too soon — but it proves to be rich loam from which to grow music on this CD. All four of its pieces were composed specifically for the group by individuals who recognize the merit of non-imposing sounds. That knowledge derives in part from the fact that three of the composers also perform with the group, but also from their long-standing engagement with post-Cage-ian and Wandelweiser material. Director and pianist Nomi Epstein’s descriptively entitled “Combine, Juxtapose, Delayed Overlap” feels like a ceremony intermittently perceived through an opening and closing door. Billie Howard’s “Roll” tucks the composer’s whispering violin behind muted French horn and voice, wringing intensity from the effort one must apply to following its retreating sonorities. Vocalist Kenn Klumpf’s “Triadic Expansions (2)” moves in the other direction, sprouting ivy-like from the slenderest branches of sound. By comparison, Michael Pisaro’s stately “festhalten/loslassen” is a veritable riot of unwinding tonal colors. As the decade ticks towards year eleven, rest assured that a•pe•ri•od•ic is searching for the next promising idea.

Bill Meyer

Agallah — Fuck You The Album (Propain Campain)

Fuck You The Album by Agallah

This is a personal vendetta album. After more than 25 years in the game, Agallah has got to settle the score against the whole world. To say he just has a chip on his shoulder would an understatement. Thirteen songs of pure hate with the title quite properly reflecting its content. In his fight, the rapper strips down all the artistry, including the production. Known for making beats for other hip hop acts, Agallah here not only uses barely serviceable beats, he doesn’t even makes pretense he needs beats. Almost all the tracks work as a capellas. His gruffy voice and arrogant flow don’t need sonic support. And what support can you expect from the world full of phonies, liars, actors, pretenders, cowards and fair weather friends? “Stop pretending, my career is not ending,” he almost screams on “Telling Lies To Me.” If this CD feels like a dinosaur in 2020, then it says that it is not something wrong with this album but with the world.

Ray Garraty

Courtney Marie Andrews — “Burlap String” single (Fat Possum)

Old Flowers by Courtney Marie Andrews

As the eponymous song of 2018’s May Your Kindness Remain amply demonstrated, Courtney Marie Andrews’ pipes are not to be fucked with. But while that was perhaps the most vivid depiction yet of her abilities, the Phoenix native’s delivery can be just as powerful on a muzzle. Such has been her approach thus far with what we’ve heard from Old Flowers, originally slated for an early June release but since pushed back to July (or beyond, who knows). The post-breakup lyrical territory was initially revealed with first single “If I Told,” but it’s the gently loping “Burlap String” I’ve had on repeat for much of the past month. Ever ended a relationship with someone and regretted it? Lush piano and a sighing slide guitar tell you Courtney has without her ever having to utter a word, and much of the song is an illustration of the internal conflict that lingers long after you’ve made the call. I’m inclined to write out the whole second verse here, but it’s the end of the third that lingers as Andrews evokes barely holding back tears: There’s no replacing someone like you. That ensuing pause runs bone-deep, its implication clear — no amount of Mary Oliver can save you from yourself.

Patrick Masterson

Dennis Callaci — The Dead of the Day (Shrimper Records)

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Some albums could be said to hum. In the case of the latest from Dennis Callaci, that’s meant literally: many of the songs on his new album The Dead of the Day feature warm clouds of feedback or droning organ notes. It’s a companion piece to his recent book 100 Cassettes, which features thoughts on musical icons throughout the year. This album’s focus is more insular: some of the songs have a drifting, improvised feel to them. But Callaci also taps into some terrifically subdued songwriting veins here — “Broadway Blues Pt. II” recalls the haunted dub-folk of Souled American, and Franklin Bruno’s piano lends a propulsive dimension to the ruminative title track. And on “Scoreless,” Callaci teams with his Refrigerator bandmate (and brother) Allen Callaci for a song that slowly builds from acoustic foundations to something modestly grandiose. Contrary to what its title might suggest, this album feels very much like a document of one man’s life.

Tobias Carroll

Cameron / Carter / Håker Flaten — Tau Ceti (Astral Spirits)

Tau Ceti by Cameron / Carter / Håker Flaten

Tau Ceti is a planet that is hypothesized to be similar enough to Earth that it could potentially support similar life forms. The three musicians that recorded this tape may come not come from the same system, but they fall into a harmonious orbit around a common circumstance — they were all in the same swanky studio, Halversonics, on a particular winter day in early 2019. One supposes that whatever they were rotating, they move towards the source of heat, since Tau Ceti builds slowly from chill acoustic exploration to a fuzzed-out solar flare. As they progress, abstraction burns away and velocity increases. It’s a gas to hear Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and Lisa Cameron lock in behind Tom Carter’s increasingly gritty sound-bursts.

Bill Meyer

Tim Daisy — Sereno (Relay)

Tim Daisy - Sereno :: music for marimba, turntables and percussion (relay 028) by Tim Daisy

Sometimes the timing of even the most tuned-in drummer is foiled by external circumstances. Sereno was supposed to signal the end of an intense phase of solo practice by Tim Daisy. His intentions for 2020 included making an album of duets and writing music for two ensembles. But at press time he, like everyone else, is hunkered down with his family, and everything he had planned is on hold.

Daisy’s stint as a primarily solo artist coincided with a reconsideration of identity; he wasn’t just a drummer, but a multi-instrumentalist and an orchestrator of electro-acoustic sound. Sereno is split between three elegiac marimba solos that showcase Daisy’s instinct for deliberate melodic development and five much denser constructions for imprecisely tuned radios, playing and skipping records, and Daisy’s strategically reflective drumming. If this record is the only new music that Daisy puts out this year, it leaves us with plenty to think about.

Bill Meyer

Kaja Draksler & Terrie Ex — The Swim (Terp)

On the surface, this looks like quite the odd couple. Terrie Ex Is a Dutch electric guitarist in his mid-60s who still goes by his punk rock name. He’s a ferocious improviser whose scrabbling instrumental attack incurs intensity from any ensemble that doesn’t want to get bowled over, and he knows more Ethiopian tunes by heart than anyone on your block. Kaja Draksler is a Slovenian pianist exactly half his age whose recent projects include a fast-paced, idiosyncratically balanced trio with Petter Eldh and Christian Lillinger, and an octet for which she sets Robert Frost poems to a combination of chanson, Baroque chamber music, and thorny free improvisation. But neither got where they are by letting fear deter them from a musical challenge, and both of them have a fine awareness that one way of understanding their respective instruments is that they are pieces of wood with wires attached. Given that common understanding of music as a combination of coexisting textures and assertive actions, they work together quite well on this CD, which documents a performance that took place at London’s Café Oto in 2018. Scrape meets sigh, jagged fish-hook pluck meets sparse wire-damped drizzle, instinct meets intuition, and when the disc is done, it’ll seem quite sensible to dive back in and swim the whole length in reverse.

Bill Meyer

Errant — S/T EP (Manatee Rampage Recordings)

errant by errant

Errant is the one-woman project of Rae Amitay. Some listeners of metal music may be familiar with Amitay’s work, as vocalist for death-grind-hybridists Immortal Bird and as drummer for the folk-metal act Thrawsunblat. For Errant, Amitay has created songs and sounds that have little in common with those other bands’ aesthetic extremities. “The Amorphic Burden” may prompt you to recall the melodic black metal that Ludicra was making toward the end of that band’s storied run, or the sludgy drama of Agrimonia’s most recent record. In any case, Errant’s sound skews toward more luminescent atmospheres. Production values are largely pristine; Amitay wants you to hear clearly every string and cymbal strike. It makes sense. She plays a bunch of instruments well, and that’s part of the point: that one woman is producing all the sounds, and all the affect. She ends the EP with a cover of Failure’s “Saturday Savior,” and it’s the least interesting thing on the record. But even there, she presents the listener with something worth hearing. Her clean vocals are lovely, disarmingly so. What may be most impressive about this early iteration of Errant is the extent of Amitay’s talents, and how those talents allow her to encroach on the hyper-masculine territory of the “one-man” act.

Jonathan Shaw

Field Works — Ultrasonic (Temporary Residence)

Ultrasonic by Field Works

Stuart Hyatt’s latest compilation in the Field Works series is an absolute beauty — and timely given it’s being released during a pandemic whose origins may be linked to bats. The field recordings that the contributors used to create the music on Ultrasonic come from the echolocation of bats, and the approaches tend towards rhythmic or atmospheric. At the rhythmic end of the spectrum we have Eluvium’s majestic opener “Dusk Tempi,” akin to his work on Talk Amongst the Trees. Mary Lattimore’s glimmering harp patterns are fitting accompaniment to the chittering bat sounds on “Silver Secrets.” And Kelly Moran’s prepared piano on “Sodalis” sends the listener down a hall of mirrors, chased by gorgeous bass tones. At the more abstract, atmospheric end of the spectrum we have Jefre Cantu-Ledesma’s radiant “Night Swimming.” Christina Vantzou blurs the line between the sounds of modular synthesis and bat sonar on “Music for a Room with Vaulted Ceiling.” And on Sarah Davachi’s “Marion,” the listener is immersed in a luminous halo of nocturnal overtones. Wherever the artists venture, this is a varied yet consistently evocative collection.

Tim Clarke

FMB DZ — The Gift 3 (Fast Money Boyz / EMPIRE)

youtube

The Gift 3 was initially set to be released in December 2019 but was postponed until now. DZ’s “Merry Christmas, pussies!” on one of the tracks doesn’t sound so odd, though, because the whole world has plunged into a constant holiday. The new album continues two trends. It carries on the “ape” theme from the previous album Ape Season. “Ape Activities,” “Keep It on Me” and “No Features” are the grittiest tracks from a disc where the prevalent mood is a sick worry. DZ made it out of the hood but had to be on the lookout as the enemies are out to get him. The other trend is that The Gift 3 continues the ideas of The Gift series. The songs have a usual verse-hook structure, are poppier and more relaxed than on Ape Season. DZ, thankfully, doesn’t try to sing anymore but hires some singers on choruses. The hardest track here is “High Speed” with Rio Da Yung Og where Detroit/Flint duo spit vicious lines.

Ray Garraty

Hala — Red Herring (Cinematic)

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Detroit multi-instrumentalist Ian Ruhala wears his heart dripping from his sleeve on “Red Herring” his latest record as Hala. Skipping from the yacht rock of “Making Me Nervous” to the country blues of “True Colors” via power pop, The Kinks and Tom Petty, Ruhala manages to create a thread with deceptively simple melodies and the sincerity of his delivery. There’s more than a touch of Kevin Barnes in the voice and the delight in throwing genres at the wall to see what sticks and, like Barnes, some of it fails to adhere. The pleasure here is in the sense of eavesdropping on the process and reveling in unexpected flourishes that refuse to be ignored.

Ruhala writes a smooth love song and isn’t afraid to turn up the guitar or address politics on standout “Lies” - “I’m eating breakfast with the fascists/Oh man they stand about ten feet tall/My mouth is bleeding at their proceedings/They get their courage through a plastic straw” It may not be Guthrie but he makes it work through a leavening wit and a mid-tempo vamp straight from the solar plexus. “Red Herring” suffers somewhat from its stylistic roaming but a fundamental big heartedness and willingness to reach makes it an enjoyable trip.

Andrew Forell

Las Kellies — Suck This Tangerine (Fire)

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Suck This Tangerine opens with a loose groove and a grime smeared highlife guitar line, the voice enters with ironic invitations over choppy Gang of Four chords. In the new one from Las Kellies, Argentinian duo Cecilia Kelly and Silvina Costa sling taut bass lines and slash guitars over mutant disco rhythms for 12 tracks of slinky indie dance. Drawing on elements from Leeds, London and the Bronx, Kelly and Costa add dubby space and South American humidity to their sound, to elevate the album beyond the sum of its influences.

Kelly handles guitar and bass, wielding the former like a cross between Andy Gill and Viv Albertine and unfurling loose funky serpents with the latter. Costa swings between ESG and The Bush Tetras and incorporates an array of hand drums that deepen and enliven the rhythmic pulse. There is a palpable and joyful chemistry between the two evidenced by their easy interplay and enhanced by the production that gives clarity and elbowroom to each instrument. If the lyrics can tend toward the perfunctory, they are delivered with a winking insouciance on put downs like “Close Talker” and “Rid Of You”. Suck This Tangerine is a worthy addition to the growing collection of feminist post-punk inspired albums we’ve been dancing to of late.

Andrew Forell

Mint Mile — Ambertron (Comedy Minus One)

Ambertron by Mint Mile

Silkworm, the band, may have ended in 2005 with the death of drummer Michael Dahlquist, but its legacy of slow, gut-socking heaviness, mordant wit and muscular guitar lives on, first in Bottomless Pit and now in Tim Midyett’s new band Ambertron. Midyett’s voice and clangorous baritone guitar is instantly recognizable, of course, to anyone who loved Silkworm, but the band diverges somewhat with the pedal steel played by Justin Brown of Palliard, weaving eerily though the slow buzz and moan of “Likelihood.” Jeff Panall, from Songs:Ohio, plays the hard, heavy drums that undergird these songs, giving them structure and forward motion. Other players include Matthew Barnhart from Tre Orsi and Horward Draper from Shearwater. Greg Normal of Bitter Tears contributes a mournful bit of trumpet to “Fallen Rock,” and Chicago alt-country mainstay Kelly Hogan takes the lead in “Sang.” The music is raw and morose; even dense strings can’t quite lift the gloom in “Christmas Comes and Goes,” a song as raw as late November in Chicago. And yet there’s a sort of resilience in it, a strength that comes through persistence. “If we could only find a way to bank the time we had together,” sings Midyett in “Giving Love,” his hoarse voice full of ragged loss, his guitar raging against it all and not quite beaten down even now.

Jennifer Kelly

Gard Nilssen’s Supersonic Orchestra — If You Listen Carefully the Music Is Yours (Odin)

If You Listen Carefully The Music Is Yours by Gard Nilssen´s Supersonic Orchestra

Perched atop his drum stool, Gard Nilssen sits where styles converge. He’s supplied the controlled boil that drives the free-bop combo Cortex, laid down some heavier beats with Bushman’s Revenge and exemplified long-form lucidity with his own trio, Acoustic Unity. In 2019, the Molde Jazz Festival recognized his versatility and forward perspective by anointing him the artist in residence. Besides showcasing his ongoing projects and accompanying heavy guests from abroad, most notably Bill Frisell, he got to put together a dream project. This 16-piece big band, which includes members of Cortex, Acoustic Unity, and the Trondheim Jazz Orchestra, is it. With the assistance of co-arranger André Roligheten, Nilssen has taken some of his trio’s sturdy melodies and turned them into frameworks for boisterous but subtly colored performances. With three basses and three drummers, this could have been either a mess or an uptight game of “you first,” “no sir after you.” But the rhythm crew shifts easily between swinging unisons and refractory elaborations. Roligheten often plays two saxophones at once in smaller settings, and one suspects that he has a lot to do with the rich colors that the horns paint around the featured soloists.

Bill Meyer

Matthew J. Rolin — Ohio (Garden Portal)

Ohio by Matthew J. Rolin

The ghoulish image on the j-card belies the sounds encoded upon this tape. Matthew J. Rolin is a relative newcomer to the practice of acoustic guitar performance; the earliest release on his Bandcamp page was recorded in late 2017. But he’s catching on fast. Switching between six and twelve-string guitars, he serves up equal measures of ingratiating lyricism and immersive surrender to pure sound. Opener “Red Brick” slots into the former category, with a heart-tugging melody that keeps doling out turns that’ll keep you wondering where it’s going and backtracks that’ll ensure that you never feel lost. “Brooklyn Centre,” on the other hand, grows filaments of string sound out of a pool of prayer bowl resonance centering enough to make you cancel your mindfulness app subscription due to perceived lack of need. Rolin develops ideas situated between these poles over the rest of this brief set, which runs just shy of 28 minutes and definitely leaves one wanting a bit more.

Bill Meyer

Nick Storring — My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell (Orange Milk)

My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell by Nick Storring

What Jim O’Rourke did for the music of Van Dyke Parks and John Fahey on Bad Timing, Nick Storring does for Roberta Flack’s on My Magic Dreams Have Lost Their Spell. The Canadian composer may not have O’Rourke’s name recognition or past membership in a very famous rock band going for him, but consider these parallels. He’s a handy with quite a few instruments, he’s an inveterate assistant to other artists across disciplinary lines, and he functions with equal commitment and fluency in a variety of genres. For this record, his first to be pressed on vinyl (albeit in miniscule numbers), Storring uses the lush string sound of Flack’s 1970s hits as a launching point for deep sonic immersions that are considerably more emotionally oblique than their inspirations’ articulations of loneliness and surrender. When he goes melodic, the cello-led tunes seem to reach for something that they never touch, and when he goes for slow-motion density, the music imparts an experience akin to watching the sort of cinematic experience where you can’t tell if you’re seeing a really slow take or the film has frozen at a single frame.

Bill Meyer

Sunn Trio — Electric Esoterica (Twenty One Eight Two Recording Company)

Electric Esoterica by Sunn Trio

Sunn Trio, from Arizona, makes sprawling, multi-ethnic psychedelia that juxtaposes the scree and groan of heavy improvisational rock with the otherly chords and rhythms of the Middle East. Opener “Alhiruiyn” slicks a trebly sheen over its surging, rampaging improvisations, more in the vein of Black Sun Ensemble than Cem Karaca. But “Majoun” layers antic percussion and tone-shifting bent notes in a limber evocation of the souk. “Roktabija The Promulgator” blasts a strident, swaggering surf riff, about as Arabic as “Miserlou” (which is, in fact, Arabic). “Khons at Karnak” buzzes with hard rock aggression, but shimmies with belly dancing syncopation. Because of the name, the preoccupation with non-Western cultures and the Phoenix mailing address, you might think that Sunn Trio is aligned somehow with Sun City Girls, but no. All kinds of weirdness lurks in the desert out there, lucky for us.

Jennifer Kelly

Turbo, Gunna & Young Thug — “Quarantine Clean” single (Playmakers)

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Despite the subject matter’s potential (ahem) virality, “Quarantine Clean” slipped out almost unnoticed in early April and is the kind of muted performance Young Thug doesn’t get enough credit for (while, curiously, his followers often get too much derision for). For all of Thugger’s hyperfluorescent hijinx over the years that have produced earworms like, say, “That’s All” and “Wyclef Jean,” there’s another side that shows up in stuff like “The Blanguage” and “Freaky” where he lets the words do the work; that’s the subterranean sonic world we’re living in here as he opines on God’s role in the pandemic and why he’s lost so much money but still has to pay for his parents’ penthouse (which: welcome to the revolution, pal). Thug’s acolyte in slime Gunna, meanwhile, does most of the song’s heavy lifting with duties on the first verse and chorus, but it’s pretty hard to tell the two apart, such is the slippery restraint both opt to exercise here. The real star, then, is beatmaker Turbo, whose buoyant anchor melody is complemented by what sounds like a lilting flute. It’s a light touch from all parties, a mellow mood well suited to our time of collective party-eschewing shelter. Run that back in prudence.

Patrick Masterson

Various Artists—Ten Years Gone (A Tribute to Jack Rose) (Tompkins Square)

Ten Years Gone : A Tribute to Jack Rose by Various Artists

A decade on from the too early passing of the great American Primitive/blues/raga player Jack Rose, Arborea’s Buck Curran gathers friends, collaborators and younger artists inspired by Rose for a gorgeous tribute to the master. Mike Gangloff, who played with Rose in Pelt and Black Twig Pickers, leads off with a plaintive, sepia-toned fiddle lament (“The Other Side of Catawbwa”), while next generation experimental droner Prana Crafter closes with an expansive, space folk reverie (“High Country Dynamo”). In between, old friends like Sir Richard Bishop evoke Rose’s full-blown orchestral guitar playing (“By Any Other Name”) while young pickers like Matt Sowell take up the trail forged by Dr. Ragtime. Isasa from Spain and Paulo Laboule Novellino from Italy attest to Rose’s global appeal. It’s mostly guitar, but not entirely; Helena Espvall from Espers contributes a brooding, reverberant “Alcantara” on cello. Curran’s own “Greenfields of America (Spiritual for Jack Rose)” is slow and thoughtful, letting long bent notes ring out with liquid clarity; it’s a hymn and a prayer and a testimony to the wide influence of an artist gone too soon.

Jennifer Kelly

Emily Jane White — Immanent Fire (Talitres)

Immanent Fire by Emily Jane White

Emily Jane White gets tagged as a folk singer, but on this, her sixth full-length, the Oakland songwriter brings a fair amount of goth-tinged drama. Taut string arrangements and big booming drums lift “Infernal” well out of the woman-with-guitar category, and White sounds more like PJ Harvey or even Chelsea Wolfe than a sweet voiced strummer. Immanent Fire sticks, topically, to environmental concerns with track titles like “Washed Away,” “Drowned” and “Metamorphosis.” A foreboding creeps through the songs, pretty as they are, even piano lit “Dew” asks “Does poison drop like the dew?” Arrangements, by Anton Patzner, the composer, arranger and violinist of Foxtails Brigade and Judgment Day, give these cuts weight and heft, punctuating eerie melodies with thick swathes of strings, rumbling percussion and keyboards. The disc culminates in “Light” which begins in a whisper and climaxes in drum-shocked, orchestral swoon. Soothing background music it is not.

Jennifer Kelly

Z-Ro — Quarantine: Social Distancing (1 Deep Entertainment / EMPIRE)

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An unexpected seven-track EP bears an expected title from a Dirty South legend. Z-Ro’s usual topics — trust and loneliness — gain a new meaning in the time of social distancing. To keep away women who only want his money is a necessary precaution now. To be at the corner at the party is a rule for survival. Z-Ro is on his ground counting his dough alone in the house. Earlier he did it so no ‘shife’ (the title of one of the tracks) friends could rob him, now it’s just to obey quarantine rules. The first half of this EP is a bit muddled by unnecessary intros and reggae tunes but the second one hits hard. As always with Z-Ro, the hardest content takes the gentlest form (“Niggas is Hoes” especially is almost a pop song). On the final track “Life of the Party” Boosie Badazz drops by, giving his verdict on the pandemic: “Fuck Corona!”

Ray Garraty

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cncoh-damn · 5 years

Text

Late Night Calls

Summary: As much as you love talking to the guys, late night calls with them isn’t always the best thing, especially when timezones are in the way.

Word count: 4,993

Tags: @richukisbb @quierick @mamacamacho @erickspretend1 @whymyeyeslikethat @zaddydejesus @zabdielsdimples @cncownerxcr7 @streamdecero @cncoxpmxvibes @marveloucnco

Wanna join the taglist?

Ah, tests. No matter how good you were at school, there would never come a time when you’d look back on them with a smile. Of course, with this being the last year you’d have to take them (at least, until you decide to go to college), you just can’t afford to flunk a single one. Despite several protests from both your own squad and the boys, you promptly locked yourself in your room with nothing but several cans of Red Bull and one too many snacks that definitely didn’t count as dinner. Of course, you couldn’t really ignore the repeated knocking on your door (courtesy of Elodie, the twins, and Alex) nor could you ignore the buzzing of your phone, no doubt caused by the guys trying to convince you to take a break and actually eat something that didn’t come from a vending machine, so with a sigh, you get off your bed and unlock the door.

Unbeknownst to you, Alex stopped banging on the door roughly half an hour ago, and she’d been put on update duty; sending pictures and telling Zabdiel–who would then tell the others–how things were going on their end. Zabdiel did the same, although he still sent you messages every half hour or so. By the end of your five-hour study session, you swear there would be little grooves on your door from where one of the girls’ bracelets or rings hit. Checking your phone for the notifications, you’re mildly impressed to see the number of messages and missed calls you got, most of them from Erick and Chris. Probably something about your unhealthy habits, but really, you’re not about to listen to them; those two were sometimes worse than you after all.

And that’s how, ninety minutes later, you went back to your room after a somewhat excruciating–but delicious–dinner. As she came from a family that put a premium on academic achievement, Alex was the most sympathetic to your wanting to spend the rest of the night studying, though she was quick to tell you to not “study until you pass out” again. Slipping on a stolen hoodie (probably Christopher’s judging by how it wasn’t too baggy on you), you put on your studying playlist and get lost in your textbooks, a feat more difficult than it would seem.

The hours pass in a blur of flash cards, ink smudges, notes scrawled messily in the margins of a page, and several breaks for you to pop the knuckles of your hand when it feels like it’s about to cramp up from writing so much. By the time you finish, it’s already nearing eleven in the evening, and judging by the lack of noise from beyond your door, the others were already asleep or out. (E/c) eyes glance over the mess on your desk, papers and books and pens strewn around your laptop. You then glance over to the vanity-turned-extra-desk-space in front of your bed, brows furrowing at the mess. Not really the most ideal set-up, especially when everything you needed had to be within arm’s reach, but you could fix it later on. Or once your tests are over, something that seems more likely than the former.

Stretching your limbs, you let out a yawn before your eyes fall upon your phone, a notification light blinking to alert you of, well, unseen notifications. Placing your thumb over the home button for it to acknowledge your fingerprint, you rub your eyes with the other hand as your phone unlocks to show everything you’ve missed.

Thirty missed WhatsApp calls from the guys.

Several puns from Erick telling you to stay hydrated and take care of yourself.

Memes from both Chris and Erick that are related to the subjects you currently had.

Khan Academy videos from Zabdiel and Joel.

And finally, a group selfie from Richard, with all of them looking like kicked puppies. You have no idea who came up with the caption, but you were sure the dorks were trying to guilt you into studying and looking after your health. As much as you wanted to deny it, the fact that they all cared enough to spam your phone with messages telling you to take care of yourself warmed your heart. Needless to say, that picture gets saved to your gallery, where you’ll keep it to look at every time you needed a reminder to look after yourself it’ll stagnate and probably end up buried under the copious amount of memes and videos you save from your chats with the guys.

Noticing that your phone’s about to die–you both love and hate them for spamming it, because that meant your battery got drained quicker than it normally did–, you snag one of the many phone chargers on your bedside table, plugging it into the socket behind your table lamp and leaving it there. Next, you stretch some more before you pad over to your bathroom, fully intent on taking a shower before falling asleep. Hey, you might even get the chance to try out that new body wash you and Joel got from Lush the last time you hung out with him.

You step out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, shea butter-scented steam wafting into your room. Mental note to self, (Y/N): thank Joelito next time you see him, because shea butter smells so good. Plus it felt great on your skin, a bonus that usually came with the skincare products you bought. Yes, where most people bought skincare stuff for the sake of making their skin better, you buy the stuff because it smells good. After you wring out the excess water with a towel, you plonk down on the stool in front of the bathroom counter, a hairbrush in one hand and the hair dryer in another. Five minutes is all it takes for your hair to be just a little damp, and you set the dryer down to brush your hair until it’s no longer wet. Once that’s done, you brush your teeth and rush through the five step skin regime that Iana and Joel set up for you. Yeesh.

By the time your head hits the pillow, you don’t bother with anything aside from getting the blanket over your head as sleep claims you. Too bad you’re not getting the uninterrupted eight hours of sleep you wanted.

CYOA: Pick Your Boy

Christopher Velez:

maybe it wasn’t a good idea for you to set one of the most iconic songs in your music library as his ringtone

but really, Sk8r Boi was the song for him

YES IT’S BC HE’S AN ACTUAL SKATER

plus it was the first song you two ever jammed out to, so it’s got a special spot in your friendship

ANYWAY

as much as you love Avril Lavigne, you weren’t fond of waking up to the guitar riff you always played when you got your hands on an electric guitar

honestly you were tempted to let it go to voicemail because DAMN IT BRYANT, YOU WERE SLEEPY

but you figured that Chris wouldn’t call you at fuck knows what time in the morning if there wasn’t a reason

so you pick up, pulling the micro-USB connector from your phone’s charging port before pressing it into your ear, half your face smooshed into your pillow

“Nena!”

now normally the hyper ball known as Christopher Velez wouldn’t annoy you by simply saying one word, but… you were tired

so you grunt before speaking.

“Hola, Chris.”

bear in mind you were rudely awakened by his ringtone playing, so you’re not in the best mood rn

but he deadass doesn’t pick up on it

so he’s babbling on and on, switching between Spanish and English way too quickly for your still-sleepy mind to comprehend

just as you’re about to yawn, he stops mid-sentence

“(Y/N)? Cuál es tu color favorito?”

you actually yawn while he’s asking, and it takes a second or so for you to realize he asked for your favorite color

“Uhh (f/c),” you say, yawning right after.

he doesn’t say much to you after, and you’re about to let the background noise from his end lull you to sleep

HA SIKE

just as you close your eyes, he makes this triumphant little noise that wakes you up again

and really, you don’t want to rain on his parade (even if he’s keeping you from your precious sleep), so you pull the phone away to let a tiny groan out

(Y/N) wants sleep

pero Christopher, el loco, just had to call you. smh

once you press the phone back to your ear, you barely just get the tail end of what he was saying

and really, you missed the guys (and Chris’ crazy laugh, but shh), but you needed sleep

so you yawn again before interrupting him

“Dude, I miss you and all, pero estoy cansado, chico.”

on one hand, he feels bad. but on the other, your sleepy voice is hella cute so… he has no regrets.

maybe a little guilt bc he knows you needed sleep to help with your test

so he’s all like “Ah, lo siento conejito. Go back to sleep, si? Just call me after your test!”

too bad you fell asleep in the middle of his apology lmao

he was waiting for a verbal response, but then he heard a snore

headass wanted to record it for blackmail purposes but nah

so he just hung up

gracias mucho, Christopher

(Y/N)’s circadian rhythm salutes you

also you called him as soon as school let out so you could tell him you did decent on the test

when you got it back, you sent him a picture. perfect score, hell yes.

lowkey you had to beg him not to post it on his IG. it’d be awkward af, plus it’d fuel some rumors that really wouldn’t be good for anyone

Richard Camacho:

okay, so you really had to set a punk rock song for this somewhat emo lil bish’s ringtone

but rn, you’re regretting it

no, Ronnie Radke, (Y/N) (L/N) doesn’t know why good girls go for bad guys now please shut it

it really suited Richuki tbh, what with him definitely pulling off the bad boy daddy dom look, but goddamnit it was loud

also Good Girls Bad Guys was the first Falling In Reverse song he ever listened to (courtesy of your emo phase that didn’t quite end, just turned lowkey) and he liked it

2012 (Y/N) is thrilled that 2018 (Y/N) has a friend who’s willing to listen to punk rock with her, even if said friend is a bit of a flirt

so he calls you around 4 am your time

you’re still a lil grumpy, but since you were in NREM 1, you woke up pretty easily

doesn’t mean you’re happy about it though

adios eight hours of uninterrupted sleep

but you figure this would happen sooner or later, especially since you and the guys have this sibling-like dynamic now

you pick up ofc, bc you’re already awake and you really don’t like sending any of your friends to voicemail

and he’s just surprised you picked up

there’s a little tremor in his voice and it makes you worry because you’ve never known his voice to not be even because of anything other than anger

or so you thought

now that he sounds upset, you’re a little more awake than before

“Que pasa?”

you usually switch between Spanish and English when talking to them, and it stays that way no matter how sleepy you are

there’s silence on his end for a while, and while it does make you worry more, it makes you a lot sleepier

you swear you’re about to fall asleep before he speaks up again

“No es nada. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

as tempted as you are to do just that, you’re not about to. bitchass had the guts to call you before dawn and make you worry before saying it was nothing? nuh-uh

you love sleep, but you love your friends (and your hobbies) more

“Don’t give me that bullshit Camacho.”

using his last name? he screwed up, and Richard knows it

he’s kinda quiet on the other end though, and you! don’t! like! it!

“Yashel? Richuki? C'mon man, what’s wrong?”

blame it on the fact that it’s like 4 am, that’s the only reason you’re being a softie rn

“It’s nothing. Sorry for waking you.” And then headass fucking hangs up

much to your chagrin

THE AUDACITY

he calls you before the asscrack of dawn, makes you worry, then decides that it’s nothing before hanging up on you? R U D E

like, screw the fact that you only had four or so hours of sleep, something was up with Richard and you’re determined to find out what

so, against your better judgement, you call him

he picks up bc headass didn’t set a different ringtone for you even if you’re friends hmph

“What happened?” literally no hesitation or beating around the bush here; if something was wrong, then you sure as hell wanted to know about it, especially since he called you

“It’s nothing (Y/N). You have a test tomorrow, just go sleep.” and then he hangs up on you AGAIN

by this point you’re cranky and mildly insulted, so you plug your phone back in to charge before you go back to sleep

you didn’t wake up in the best mood that day, ngl

lil bit snappy, kinda sassier than usual

basically your mood was like Joel’s every time he was on Twitter

the bad mood followed you all the way through your test, and it was pretty obvious from how tightly you were holding onto your pen

after school, though, you call him again and hope he doesn’t hang up on you

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Am I a good dad?”

oof this was not something you were prepared for

“The hell are you talking about? You’re a better dad than most are, man.”

as it turns out, he misses Aaliyah and worries that he’s not doing the best he can as a father

and you’re like “???” because the fact that he and Yocelyn are co-parenting means that he’s doing his best

especially given that he’s away on tours and doing promo stuff a lot

and he’s slowly spiraling into this really dark space and you! refuse! to! let! it! happen!

“Dude, listen to me. Yes you’re not around as much as you want to, and yes you may miss some parts of her life, but look at it this way: you’re making an effort to be part of her life, and that’s way more than I can say for most of the guys who accidentally knock up their girlfriend. So chill, okay?”

soft hours have been extended all bc Richuki doubted himself :((

by the end of the call, he’s feeling a lot better

“Gracias, nena.”

“De nada, dude. Next time though? Don’t call me sounding all upset and shit and then hang up.”

he laughed at that, but then apologized, so you’re not annoyed at him anymore

lowkey you’re considering changing his ringtone but… nah

Zabdiel de Jesus

if there was anyone of the guys you thought would know not to call you when you’re supposed to be asleep, it’d be Zabdiel

but nOPE

he called you probably thirty minutes after you fell asleep

and even if Britney Spears is a guilty pleasure, you don’t want to wake up to Womanizer blaring from your phone

sorry Elodie

but it’s blaring and you’re rudely awakened and now you’re sleepily squinting/glaring at the stupid thing as if it would make it stop. it doesn’t.

so now you’re picking it up because damn it, what the fuck could Zabdiel want?

you yawn as you accept the call, laying on your side so you don’t have to hold the phone to your ear

“Que?”

you didn’t expect to hear loud ass bass and what was probably a party on the other end

but you did

and now you’re trying to keep yourself from cussing at him. you two weren’t that close yet, and no way were you going to risk offending someone because they called you at lord knows what time in the morning.

so you take a page out of his book and take several breaths to calm yourself before repeating the question

“Cometí un error,” he groans, and you’re so tempted to just yeet your phone away because fucking hell, he’s drunk! or somewhat intoxicated.

either way, you are not in the right state of mind to speak to a drunk person

“¿Qué hiciste?“ It’s a struggle to not let the annoyance in your voice show, but you barely even manage to hide it. Thankfully, he’s too drunk to notice.

“I screwed up, (Y/N).” The way he says it is almost too pathetic and you sigh.

“Si, you said that. What happened?” There’s mumbling on his end and all you could make out is a name: Gwen. it takes a while before you piece it together, and you facepalm once the puzzle pieces slot together.

he was upset about his ex

his ex that, according to rumors, he cheated on

and then, for some reason, he figured you were the best person to talk to? okay, not the best person, but one of the first people he should call.

you were not equipped for this. nuh-uh.

“Zabdi, that was a whole year ago. Hell, maybe even more.” Really, you wanted to ask why the fuck he was thinking about this now

it’s been a Y E A R

“I really liked her,” he continues slurring into the phone, and you muffle a groan with your hand. did befriending an entire boyband mean that you had to listen to them talk about their exes even if it’s been a year? even if they were probably the cause behind the breakup in the first place?

can you resign from being their friend now? (you say this despite knowing you wouldn’t go through with it. you love the dorks too much)

“Zab, you can’t do anything about it now.” You’re trying to be a nice and comforting voice of reason, you really are, but damn it the bass is too loud and you still have a test later in the day

you don’t know what’s happening on his end, but you think you hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob

cue another eye roll

“Escúchame, Zabdiel. It’s in the past, si? Nothing you can do about it other than learn from your mistake and no lo hagas de nuevo. Lo tengo?”

there’s a bit of scuffling on the other end, and your brows furrow. the hell was happening?

you get an answer when Clara’s voice comes through, and you blink. huh, guess they were bringing him back to the hotel. or his room, who knows.

“Lo siento (Y/N), the rest of the guys thought he went off with a girl,” she explains, and you muffle a yawn.

“It’s okay, Clara. Just–”yawn, “Make sure he doesn’t puke or something. G’night.”

you hang up before she does, plugging your phone back in before you finally conk out again

during dinner that evening, you ask the girls how to deal with a friend who’s an emotional drunk, just so you’re prepared for the next time he calls you when intoxicated.

after that, you send him a few feel-good texts. mostly stuff that siblings would send each other, so you’re really living up to the familial nature your friendship has begun to take on

Joel Pimentel:

just so we’re clear, the only reason you call Joel more than any of the other guys is because he rarely checks his messages, groupchats or otherwise

that said, you’re surprised when, instead of the first of your alarms, The A Team plays from your phone

it’s weird that he’s the one calling you and not the other way around, but you shrug it off

at least he’s calling around the time of your first alarm

“What,” you deadpan into the phone

“When the fuck were you going to tell me you were at the Infinity War premiere.”

whatever it is you were expecting to hear, this ain’t it folks

“Uhh… never?”

and cue a cranky Joelito ranting about you getting to be there and not telling him so he could’ve tried to get tickets

to which you needed to cut him off

“Bitch, my parents got tickets. Besides, my godfather invited us.”

“Who’s your godfather?”

and cue the silence

“I’m not allowed to say.”

“W H O .”

it goes from this to you deflecting the topic until you decide to bring up your test.

he knows you’re trying to change the topic, but he’s going along with it. he’s been there before.

you start spewing out random facts, both to keep his mind from going back to anything Marvel-related and so you can see how much you remembered from last night’s study session

for the most part, it works.

Joel’s listening to you talk about facts, and every now and then he’d interject with a question, to which you quickly launch into an explanation that spawns even more questions from him

and so you two talk through the next two alarms you set, with you explaining concepts that would probably (hopefully please please please) show up on the test later

“You think I’m going to pass?”

“Hey, if I understood that because you managed to explain it to me, I’m pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, unless it doesn’t show up on the test.”

“… Don’t jinx yourself.”

you two hang up around the same time, and you’re in a considerably good mood considering he called you to ask how you managed to be at the Infinity War premiere

also it’s shocking how you two didn’t sass each other much during it

come to think of it, what time was it there when he called?

meh, you’ll figure out later. right now, you have to get ready for school, and that uniform tie isn’t going to tie itself.

#privateschoollife

ANYWAY, you get to school and shit, breeze through most of your classes until last period

DUN DUN DUN

test time

you’re shaking with nerves bc the teacher for this one is notorious for giving college-level tests to his AP classes

and even if he’s been your teacher for the past three years, you’re still terrified of failing any of his tests

but one look at the questions had you breathing a sigh of relief.

those were the things you explained to Joelito! you were going to pass!

ngl, you nyoom through the multiple choice questions and double check your math for the ones that need calculations

once school lets out for the day, you find a nice, secluded area near the botanical garden (again, private school feels) so you could call Joel and tell him you’ve got a good chance of passing the test

but when he picks up he sounds groggy af

oh, how the tables have turned

but you’re sympathetic bc he needs to look pretty; his face is one of his main selling points after all

“Hi, sorry I woke you, but I think I’m definitely gonna pass. Thanks for a while ago, bye, love you dude! Get some more sleep!”

how you managed to say that in one breath, no one has any idea.

meanwhile Joel’s just staring at his phone in confusion before realizing you thanked him for helping you recall what you studied

you two didn’t acknowledge the “love you” that got dropped in that quick, minute-long call and you never will

later that night, he calls you again because he saw another picture of you at a Marvel premiere

and this time, you two sass each other until you fall asleep

sass buddies til the end of the line

unlike Steve and Bucky BC THE END OF THE LINE WAS APPARENTLY A CHANCE TO TIME TRAVEL

anyway

it’s back to your regular, sassy program with (Y/N) and Joel. except for when tests come along, especially midterms and finals.

you two have late night calls just for him to help you study

Erick Brian Colon:

after a bit of shifting around in your bed so you can comfortably nestle in your blankets, you finally drift off to sleep, dreaming of getting an Academy Award in the future

as you were about to accept said award, the dream gets shattered when the fucking Guachineo begins to play

along with the shattering of that dream (because damn it, it’s been a near constant goal since you were a kid) comes a rude awakening not even thirty minutes after you fell asleep

as much as you loved Erick (PLATONICALLY), you were going to throttle him, pretty eyes or not

at least, that was the plan until you hear his voice

who knew someone could sound so shaken up over the phone?

okay that was rude and insensitive af but you weren’t expecting this

he literally sounded like he was about to cry, and damn it, this was the baby! this was little bebito Erick on the phone sounding like he’s about to cry and you’re not going to hang up on him.

to be fair, you wouldn’t hang up on any of your friends, but least of all Erick.

so in the sleepy voice you swore never to let anyone but the rest of your squad hear, you yawn out a “Que pasa?”

he’s practically sniffling, and even if he doesn’t quite want you to hear him cry, you’re one of the first people he thought to call, especially since the guys were out at the club

“Extraño a mi familia,” he admits, voice shaking and you just want to wrap the guy in a blanket and cuddle him.

sure you don’t really get homesick much since you don’t live far from your parents, but it’s a wholly different thing for Erick

for one thing, he has a tight bond with his family. for another, he was what, 14 or 15 when CNCO was formed. it was probably the first time he was away from them for a long period of time, and sometimes, it didn’t get easier to bear with the passage of time

“No llora, bebito.” You’re trying to comfort him and all but you’re not exactly the best person to go to when you need emotional support. Hell, you can barely support yourself emotionally.

which brings you to the question: why me

and why when you had a quiz the next day

but this was Erick. not only was he your fellow group baby, but he was little bebito as well

you’re not about to let him be upset like this, not when you could do something about it

one problem though: you have no idea what to do about it. nice.

thankfully, he keeps talking.

as it turns out, it’s not just homesickness he’s dealing with

it’s also the pressure he puts on himself to be as good as the rest of the guys are

to be as charming as Chris, as good of a dancer as Richard, as intellectual as Joel and Zabdiel

and suddenly, you get where he’s coming from. mostly

it’s like an inferiority complex, but also, not really

as the youngest, you two had the most to prove

you two had the most expectations ahead of you

so it’s natural that you’ll end up pressuring yourselves to meet and exceed those expectations

now you know what to do, BUT you don’t know what to say

“It’s okay to feel like that, bebito,” you start, sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest. “Pero you need to remember that you don’t have to be like them. Dejaste de competir con otros when you guys won La Banda. Now, the only competition you need to worry about is yourself, si?”

you really want to baby him, especially with how soft and watery his voice sounds over the phone, but you know he’s not going to like it

as the youngest, you two end up being babied by those who know you as a member of your respective groups

and it gets annoying after some time because you just want to be treated like an adult

so you’re not going to baby him completely

you kind of stick to a soft voice the whole time you two talk

and when you feel a yawn coming on, you muffle it with your hand bc you don’t want him to feel bad

it takes a while before you ask how he’s feeling

but when he says that he’s feeling better, you immediately feel relieved

not just bc this meant you’ll be able to sleep soon, but bc it meant he wasn’t as upset anymore

a crying and upset friend always made your heart sad, but a crying and upset Erick? you were half-tempted to book a flight to wherever they were and give him a hug, exam be damned

“Gracias mucho, nena.”

“You promise you’re okay now?”

“Si. Good night, (Y/N).”

Yawn. “Good night, bebito.”

so you go back to sleep, then wake up when your alarms go off

the school day passes by in a blur, but you’re hurrying to go home bc you wanted to check in on him via FaceTime

so you do, but he doesn’t pick up

instead you just leave him a message in his voicemail

hopefully he listens to it bc as his fellow group baby, he needed to know that you were gonna be there for him when he can’t share stuff with the other guys

literally though, he’s the only one to always bring out your soft side.

but at least you love the dork.

#cnco imagine #cnco imagines #cnco headcanon #cnco headcanons #cnco fanfiction #cnco fanfic #cncowners #christopher velez imagine #christopher velez #richard camacho imagine #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesus imagine #zabdiel de jesus #joel pimentel imagine #joel pimentel #erick brian colon imagine #erick brian colon #director au

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shivae · 4 years

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Finished it at 9 chapters and 23k words. I still have last lines to write, but I’m done so posting a celebratory update today. :D

Obsession

Under the effects of the love potion, Bog stays with the fairies, with Dawn treating him like her new best friend and Marianne irritated that such an awful fairy is their guest, until he does a few things that make afar better impression on her.

Dawn twirled around the room Dagda offered Bog, a guest room on their family floor. The room was next to Dagda’s room, and he gave him explicit instructions not to leave the room until morning. Bog looked around the brightly lit room, finding the lighting harsh and glaring. In his own castle, the lighting was soft, warm, welcoming.

“Do you need anything?” Dawn inquired politely.

“No.” Bog smiled at her, but his eyes held a troubled light. “Is yer sister back?”

“Do you want to talk to her?”

“I would like to see her, yes, to say good night.” Bog fidgeted with his fingers.

“I’ll go look for her!” Dawn bounced out of the room, leaving Bog by himself.

Bog clasped his hands together, trying to sort through his thoughts. He could only think about Dawn and Marianne. Trying to think about anything else made his ears ring, and his head buzz like it was a hive full of bees. His ability to hold onto any thoughts outside of the two princesses was impossible. He wanted to see them, talk to them, just be around them.

He had a difficult time remembering who he was. Bog ran a hand over his head and down the back of his neck. This was wrong. It was all wrong. What was wrong? A voice was screaming somewhere deep inside that this was wrong, and now that the princesses were out of sight, he could hear it. What was wrong?

Bog racked his brain, thinking hard, but the only thing he could think of was it was wrong that he couldn’t see either of the princesses. They were both gone, and he needed to look for them. They could be in trouble.

Marianne scowled at her sister, angrily eating a piece of fruit. “Marianne, go and tell him good night.” Dawn pleaded sweetly. “He’s so sad!”

“I don’t care,” snorted Marianne in response, taking a bit bite of the berry in her hands.

“Why are you being so mean to him?” Dawn pouted. “He’s our guest.”

“He tried to kidnap you,” groaned Marianne.

“Okay, I’ll tell him not to expect you,” grumbled Dawn, turning to leave.

“No. I’ll go see him and let him know how things are going to be.” Marianne rose, wiping berry juice off her face.

Bog was pacing when Marianne stepped through the open door to his room. His wings buzzed behind him, and he looked upset. Marianne cleared her throat, letting him know she was there.

“Marianne!” The amount of glee in the Bog King’s eyes when he looked at her was disarming. He seemed truly happy to see her as he turned and bowed. She stood in the doorway, staring at him, uncertain about what to do.

“My sister said you wanted to say good night, and I have a few things to say to you.” Marianne strolled into the room, hands clenched into fists, her voice stern.

“I love ye,” stated Bog, rising up to his full height. “I love ye, Marianne.”

“No, you don’t.” Marianne rolled her eyes at the proclamation. “It’s the love potion, Bog. You don’t even know me.”

“I would like to get to know ye.” Bog bowed his head politely, tucking his hands in front of him, curling his fingers in an effort to make himself less threatening.

“You’re our guest until this works out of your system,” stated Marianne. “You’re too easy to manipulate, and I don’t want to do that to you. You’re probably going to be furious when this is over.”

Bog nodded slowly, gazing at her. He gave her a drunken smile, “Ye are beautiful.”

“I am not,” groaned Marianne. “It’s just the potion making you blind. Trust me, you would not be attracted to me if it wasn’t for the potion. Nobody would be.”

“How, how can ye say that?” Bog gasped, eyes widening. His voice dropped low, in a soft growl. “Yer hair is like a ripened field of wheat, wild and golden. Yer face, is a vision, with yer amber-lit brown eyes, eyelashes so thick and dark. And yer mouth, it’s…” Bog stopped himself, barely. Despite the fact he could see he was making Marianne uncomfortable, he wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, while a voice inside screamed at him to stop talking.

Marianne’s mouth gaped open at him, her eyes wide and staring at what he was saying. She coughed and licked her lips, backing away from him. “It is the love potion, Bog King. That’s all. You do not love Dawn or me, it’s all fake.” Marianne took a deep breath. “I apologize for what I had you do earlier. It was wrong to use you like that.”

“Use me?” Bog looked bewildered, as though he couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. “I will always protect ye and do whatever it is ye need doing, evening rose.”

Marianne groaned, running her fingers through her hair and tugging on a lock. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Bog. Maybe you’ll be over this in the morning.” She motioned to the bed, backing out of the room. “Good night. I’ll be down the hall, but please, don’t bother Dawn or me until morning.”

“Good night,” whispered Bog, reverently lowering his head.

Marianne closed the door, grimacing at the way Bog looked at her. She didn’t have any experience with love potions, but that look on his face, it seemed so sincere, and his words. They were all lies; however, they were unintentional ones. The Bog King had no control over what he was saying or doing, and it was sad.

Conflicting emotions ran through Marianne, the need to be polite to their love-stricken guest, at the same time, he kept looking at her with those bright, shining blue eyes. Hours before, she had wanted to drive a sword through his chest while he cockily walked around, taking over the elf festival.

What she was seeing wasn’t really the Bog King any more than his feelings of love were real. He was a vicious, selfish monster. There was not an ounce of kindness beneath all that armored plating, teeth, and claws. This was all fake, a reaction to the potion telling him he loved her and her sister.

Marianne entered her room, her thoughts swirling around their problem. She closed the door as it hit her, a thought rising up and pointing out, love potions don’t change a person’s personality. It locks them into a dream state where they act exactly like they would if they were in love. Most of the stories were comical, about fairies doused with the potion giving the object of their affections smothering attention, only able to think of that person they saw first. Typically, anyone who used them regretted it immediately.

This was actually how Bog would be if he were in love with someone, and it was a bizarre thought. It didn’t fit everything she knew about him from the stories and official reports. He was known to be cold, calculating, aloof, not wanting anything to do with fairies. The only kindness he displayed was just to keep on good terms with his neighbors.

Still, those words he said to her in that soft growl, his eyes shining with passion. And he was incredibly polite and considerate. This was what the Bog King really was. He couldn’t lie about who he was under the effects. It was impossible, and it bothered Marianne. Her preconceived notions might be wrong.

He had the capacity to love, and he was ridiculously cute about it.

Bog didn’t sleep.

He tried, but the bed was too comfortable, and his nature told him he should be awake, protecting the two females he loved. Instead of sleep, he went out onto the balcony, where he could see everything going on outside the rock. The night was silent, and there were guards on the king’s balcony nearby. He caught the scent of more guards, Dawn and Marianne, wafting on the breeze.

Bog tried to tell himself they were fine. They had guards. He needed to sleep like Marianne told him to. He perched in one of the balcony windows and remained there until morning, catching a few minutes of sleep here and there.

The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky when he heard a rustle of wings coming off one of the balconies and spotted a pair of violet wings gliding away from the rock. Bog stared after her, his wings rustling with the need to follow her. However, he would be leaving Dawn unguarded. He thought the problem over quickly. Dawn was safe here. She had guards. Marianne might not be. She did not have any guards, but she did have him. Bog stepped off the railing and flew after her.

Marianne kept to her usual routine. She was up before the sun rose and out of the castle, flying to her favorite training area, a stout log crossing a stream near the castle. She had her sword strapped to her hip and had tied a white piece of cloth over her forehead.

The morning was invigorating, crisp, with the first brilliant colors of dawn streaking over a dark sky. For the moment, she could forget about their little problem a few doors down in the castle. This early in the morning, the people of the Fairy Kingdom were just beginning to stir. She was alone, and she preferred it for her morning practice.

Folding her wings, Marianne landed on the log and pulled the cloth down over her eyes. She began going through practice moves with her sword, a well-rehearsed routine of moves she had picked up observing the soldiers practicing. Over the last year, this was how she had learned to use a sword. Female fairies were never trained, and truthfully, she was the only one who had wanted to learn.

Marianne tried to get the sword trainers to take her in and teach her, but none of them wanted to defy her father, who didn’t forbid it but also didn’t want to encourage it. No, her father wanted Marianne to get through this ‘phase,’ as he called it, come to her senses, and prepare to be a queen and all that entailed. Marianne felt it was a little unfair, but she loved her father. When she eventually became queen, she would change things, at least for herself.

Twirling, jabbing, parrying a fake sword away, Marianne moved up and down the log, blindfolded. Occasionally, she lifted into the air, always coming back down onto the log perfectly. She had done this long enough she could dance up and down the log blindfolded for hours and not slip once.

Marianne struck out as hard as she could, spinning in the air, and her sword hit something with a resounding clang that made her falter as she came down. She corrected by back winging in the opposite direction, a scowl on her face. Someone else was here.

“Ye got good power, but yer form needs work,” stated Bog, reminding her he was around.

Marianne made a face at him, lifting the blindfold up, over her forehead. “I am self-taught.”

“In that case, yer doing quite good,” Bog smiled at her, hovering a few feet away with his staff held out in front of him. “I mean no offense, princess, just that if yer going to use a sword, ye might want professional instruction.”

“Princesses don’t need swords,” snorted Marianne, scowling at him.

Bog blinked, stating the last thing Marianne expected, “Why would anyone say that? Royalty always needs to be able to protect themselves. Ye can’t be expected to wait on someone else to protect ye in a bad situation, can ye?”

“That is what I keep telling my dad!” Marianne exclaimed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Would ye allow me to spar with ye and not be offended if I give ye instruction?” Bog landed on the log, twirling his scepter.

Marianne stared at him for a moment, landing in front of him. Someone wanted to spar with her? And not just anyone, but the King of the Dark Forest, who was known to capably wield a number of weapons, including swords. Nobody had ever offered to spar with her, let alone instruct.

“I understand.” Bog took a step back, lowering his head at her hesitation. His wings drooped, and Marianne sighed.

“Let’s spar.” Marianne smiled, pointing her sword at Bog. “Teach me.”

The smile that lit across Bog’s face was astounding, making Marianne wish he wasn’t under the effects of the love potion. It sent a small ribbon of warmth through her chest that it was her words that put that smile on his face.

The effects of the love potion were still strong on Bog, his mind focused on Marianne and Dawn. Continually, he had to push thoughts of needing to return and check on Dawn away. Giving instruction to Marianne was more critical. She wasn’t bad with the sword, actually, she was quite impressive for someone who hadn’t been formally taught, but a few words of instruction from Bog and she was even better, and she knew it.

For Bog, his entire world was Marianne and Dawn, but something was nagging at his thoughts. Occasionally, a voice broke through the fog, telling him he should get away from the princesses, that he did not want to be in love, that he despised the emotion with his entire being. They faded as he interacted with Marianne.

His memories were clouded, but if it was something Marianne needed, those thoughts became clear. Marianne needed instruction, and all of his memories of being taught how to fight erupted within him. This was love for him, teaching the woman he loved to defend herself.

Marianne was in far better spirits than she had been the evening before, most of which was forgotten by Bog. By the time they were done, the sun was well over the horizon, and sweat glistened off both their bodies, and they were breathing hard from the continual sparring, but both had smiles on their faces.

They were finishing breakfast in the castle when Dawn got up and sat next to Bog, looping an arm around one of his, “Okay, so you spent time with Marianne this morning now I want you to spend time with me!”

“Okay.” Bog smiled, glancing at Marianne as if asking if it was okay.

“Go ahead.” Marianne made a face at them, swirling her spoon around in a bowl of hot breakfast porridge and fruit. “I’ll be in my room.”

Dagda frowned, not at all comfortable with Dawn being alone with Bog. “Keep your door open and remember, Bog, you are too old for her, and she is too young for you.”

Bog actually looked insulted. “I am not like that.”

“You are still under the effects of the love potion,” groaned Dagda. “How do I know what you are and aren’t like?”

“I would never take advantage of a lady,” snorted Bog in response, rising from the table. Dawn giggled, walking out of the dining room, arm in arm with Bog.

“I believe him.” Marianne tilted her head to her father.

“Why? I saw the two of you come in together, Marianne. What were you doing?” Dagda turned a curious eye to his daughter.

“Sparring.” Marianne smiled. “He taught me a few things.”

“Just what I need,” groaned Dagda, biting into a pastry with a note of anger.

“Love potions don’t alter a person’s personality, they just amplify it and direct it,” stated Marianne thoughtfully. “He can’t think about anything but Dawn and me, but he wouldn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally do, and well, he hasn’t been anything but nice and polite.”

Dagda stared at his daughter in disbelief. “You like him.”

“Haha, no, I do not!” Marianne’s laugh was nervous, her eyes evading her father’s. “I don’t even know him. Not really. But maybe after this, he won’t be as bad?”

“I don’t know,” grumbled Dagda. “I don’t see why he would change his ways, especially not after being embarrassed about this whole situation.”

“Maybe if we’re just nice to him,” mused Marianne, running her fingers over her chin. “Maybe he never wanted much to do with us, because he never got to know us. Maybe he’s… afraid.”

“I doubt there’s anything the Bog King is afraid of,” snorted Dagda. “When it wears off, he’s going to vanish back into his forest and act like it never happened. At least, that’s what I hope happens, because I do not want to deal with an enraged Bog in my castle.”

“Dad, I don’t think he’s going to be like you think he will. Whatever social inhibitions he has, have been temporarily wiped clean by the love potion.” Marianne drummed her fingers on the table. “I remember how he was the last time I saw him, all rigid, stern, and no-nonsense. Maybe that’s a front he puts up to keep everyone away from him and his kingdom.”

“Marianne, take care,” warned Dagda. “You are walking down a path that could lead to disappointment. We do not know Bog at all.”

“But we can,” stated Marianne with a small smile. “Even if he doesn’t really love me, I think we might be able to be friends.”

Dagda blinked at his daughter, taken off guard by the statement and the strange look on her face.

#strange magic #fanfic #Misdirection #alternate universe #bog king #love dusted bog #marianne #dawn #king dagda #canon divergent au

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longsightmyth · 5 years

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I remember a while back you posted something about an incomplete E/rag0n re-write. If you're comfortable sharing, what were your plans for that project? Dragon riding was such a cool idea, but P/aolini executed it really poorly. I'd love to hear your take on it!

My plans for the project were, as always, to smooth things out without changing much of the narrative. That would probably have ended in it being EVEN MORE Star Wars With Dragons, but the biggest change would have been Arya showing up with the egg in the first place, thereby making Eragon a smidge more heroic and proactive (to my mind) by actively hiding not just a shiny rock but a clearly ill person who he ran into in the woods asking about the storyteller in the village.

Some of the planning notes might have included Murtagh’s outline being essentially “I’m gonna help you out because fuck the police”

Behold a snippet, and please forgive the years out of date writing and absence of Eragon himself:

At first glance, the figure in the clearing could, and hadbeen, mistaken for a man. No one made that mistake on their second glance.

It wasn’t the hair color, though that was a red never foundin nature, with hints of purple like a fresh bruise. Plenty of courtiers diedtheir hair unnatural colors – it had been all the rage last year. Nor was ithis skin: plenty of people in the world were sickly pale, especially with onlymoonlight to illuminate them, though admittedly few of those people had sucheerily flawless complexions.

The first glance told you those things. The second, wherethe almost-man might deign to meet their eyes, would allow an observer’s mindto register sensation that should not follow sight alone. A creeping feeling atthe back of the neck and down both arms, tickling over the heart in theobserver’s chest, like crawling spiders’ legs that could not be brushed off. Asudden break out into cold sweat, the stink of fear so strong that thehalf-thought of a nice warm bath turned into a desperate need for a scorchingone, to wash away the filth the man-thing radiated like a campfire at thecenter of a corona of sticky swampy warmth that made a person’s heartparadoxically freeze.

Fortunately for those who had followed him here, they werenot, in the most technical sense, people.

They were large enough that crouching in the underbrush ofthe forest was a difficult exercise, though their coloring made it an easier one:varying shades of brown and grey, though one on the end had, in a pretentiousphase of adolescence, preferred to be called slate blue. They refrained fromspeaking Common as they muttered back and forth, as it was a clumsy languagewhen compared to their own. That didn’t mean they didn’t understand it, forwhen the thing in the clearing hissed for them to be silent they stoppedgrudgingly and hunkered even farther down.

The man-thing melted into the shadow of the nearest oak, aspill of dark oil barely visible in the shadows and weak light of the crescentmoon overhead.

The moon gave just enough light for the party of elves, too.There were seven of them, all clothed in leather with dull metal plates sewnanywhere they wouldn’t impede joint movement. If the thing hadn’t been lookingfor them he might not have seen them: where elves normally wore beautifullyworked silver armor that all but glowed in the moonlight, these had taken careto dull any shine that might catch attention. Most even wore hoods over theirhair, which would shine almost as brightly as the metal in the moonlight nomatter the color. The horses they rode ranged in color from a mousy grey in thefront to a buckskin in the back, and all were clearly bred for riding anddefense, with deep chests, blocky heads, and thick, muscular legs. Their hooveswere surprisingly dainty.

The middle rider was the only one unhooded, its hair woundaround its head in some complicated braid that gave it the look of acrown. Its hair did not, in fact, shine,though by rights it should have. Instead it seemed to let the moonlight sink inand stay. He thought the elf might befemale, but it was difficult to tell with elves. The hair was the only thingthat kept the thing from calling the horse the middle elf rode black. Sable,probably, or a dark bay. The sable horse stopped dead, head up and ears back,and only a quick sidestep saved the horse behind it from running into it.

The wind had shifted.

The other horses’ ears went back too, and the elves drewtheir weapons. The light reflected off the edges of the gleaming metal hurt thething’s eyes, and he hissed in spite of himself.

The sable horse half-reared in challenge to the threat itcouldn’t see.

“Steady, Swift,” its rider murmured. Swift stampedirritably.

“Arya?” asked one of the others. “I smell shade.”

The shade himself signaled the urgals to attack.

The elves, warned by the wind and the shuffling in thebushes, stood strong. Those with bows loosed arrows into the darkness andconnected, judging by the outraged cries of the urgals as they burst into theclearing and charged the road.

“Do not eat anything until we have searched the bodies,” theshade reminded them harshly as they passed him by.

The urgals did not acknowledge him: they knew their orders.He had put them in their minds himself.

The shade sat back to enjoy the taste of the elves’ fear andanger – so much anger. Fear tasted better, but not by much. He was so wrappedup in feeding that he did not at first notice one of the elves riding hell forleather away as their fellows held off pursuit. The black haired rider on thesable horse.

The urgals had these elves well under control, no matter howvaliantly they fought. Numbers would eventually tell. He closed his eyesagainst the shiver of anticipation that rippled up his spine. It had been solong since he had eaten his fill. It wasn’t usually safe: he would be gorgedand unable to move at his usual speed, unable to move through the shadows,either. But he was so hungry, and the urgals would not be that far away. Hewould take this elf – and that annoying horse – as a treat.

The shadow ways welcomed him when he stepped sideways, and he pursued.

He pursued for some time. The elf had mastered the trick ofsending out bursts of light that bent the shadows he was using at odd angles,slowing him down and once running him directly into a tree. He burned the oakto ash with a word, which meant he had to walk to the next batch of shadowsthick enough for his purposes. She and the horse (he was almost certain the elfwas female now: he had tasted enough of her magic to feel something of how shethought of herself) were unaffected by the light that stabbed into his eyeslike the grains of sand his master liked to use when he was particularlydispleased with one of the shade’s missteps. Magic users with that kind offocus were rare.

He was going to enjoy eating her.

The next burst of light was a little weaker. Was she fading?Four more bursts of light later she gave up on reorienting the shadows andinstead let a soft glow surround her, just strong enough to keep him fromgetting close enough to touch her. Neither she nor the horse could keep thepace up for much longer: the horse was sweaty enough that the shade could smellit. It was gasping for breath, too. The rider made no sound.

The light flickered out, and the shade struck.

Maybe if his appetite had not been whetted by the elvesearlier, maybe if he had not been so frustrated, maybe if he hadn’t been sohungry in the first place, he might have thought it strange that there was nofresh tang of fear from the elf as he descended. As it was, he passed rightthrough the air where she had been and landed ungracefully on the other side ofthe horse.

“Illusion,” he snarled.

The horse, free of its burden and ignored for a moment,mule-kicked him in the ribs before taking off into the depths of the forest.

“I want that horse dead,” the shade said to no one inparticular as he dragged himself to his feet. He considered going after it, butthe elf needed to be found. All of the elves needed to be accounted for, hismaster had said. All of them must be searched.

She had been fading, if that had not been a trick too. Shemight not have gotten far. He followed the trail backwards, looking for traces,and found them in the form of the leftover wisps of a transportation spell.

Thwarted, hungry, and afraid, the shade threw back his headand screamed.

Back with the urgals, the last elf heard him and laughed asshe died.

#myth rags on eragon #myth writes #Anonymous #myth answers

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josiebelladonna · 4 years

Text

the artist | prologue

modern/sci-fi au featuring louder than love era chris, blond dave, black album era lars, spreading the disease era joey, and mother love bone era stone.

let's just say the fact about the pandemic here in the states has gotten me thinking. this was an idea that came to me after my interactions with joey himself on instagram back on thursday: i thought of a girl who does commissions for rock stars, and with a few of them, she goes a little further than you might expect. i also thought ahead, to the time following the pandemic.

yes, this is straight up erotica and it’s going to be a slow burn; let's just say i need to let loose, get down, and make a return to the sensual side of life. for me, there is in fact something sexual about making art. it's digging inside of yourself and finding what pleases you and then bringing it to fruition. it's a vulnerable notion... much like the very act itself.

yes, this will be chris-centric among other things. i have no idea how long this'll be, or where it's going to go but i hope we'll have some fun here! this will be available on wattpad at the end of the week in time for the solstice, and i’m also going to be wrapping up nothing as it seems in the next few weeks so i have something to overlap into once that story is signed and sealed (i’ll be dropping two chapters on friday, so keep yo eyes open): i’m thinking i’ll write the chapters behind closed doors and then post them in bulk there at the end of the week so updates from me are still consistent, but staggered.

in terms of writing, this is inspired by my own life, my endeavors as an artist as well as a sci-fi writer, as well as, for the most part, the louder than love books (@templeoftheslavegarden !!!!) and the billie eilish fic also titled “the artist”. enjoy xoxo

He was a tall lithe gentleman with those lush dark curls strewn over his shoulders as though they were the sides of a mane. The way he moved about on a stage with either that shiny mint green guitar cradled in his hands as though it were a naked woman, or the microphone as though it were about to get away from him was enough for me to pick up a pencil. I wanted to touch and caress his black curls, to put them down on paper. He was what I referred to as "draw-able" in that I always returned to him for inspiration.

I swore that it wasn't a phase—I tried to convince my dad that it wasn't a phase, even when I showed him my first drawing of Chris. I was proud of the drawing, too: it was rough and sketchy, and yet you could tell it was him with those long shoulder length curls behind his back and down over his collar bones. I had used a single pencil to draw him as well.

"Holly, you've gotta do something else with your art," he said to me that first time. "You've got to do some more still life."

I often heard that a few times thereafter, even as I did more studies of Chris singing and in different stances to understand his anatomy a little better. It always struck me as odd that my art wasn't more embraced at home growing up, even though my parents were more than happy to support me in my path to art school. My dad showed me the one school down in Portland. I wanted to stay there in Tacoma, even with Chris and his band based up in Seattle.

At some point, and by that, I mean a few months before I graduated, to work my way around that complaint, I began incorporating more plants into my drawings of him. More roses and more leaves jutting out from his shoulders and from the crown of his head. I kept those drawings to myself, granted I knew if I shared them with the household they wouldn't be seen as serious art.

One time when I strolled into an art shop for some colored pencils and I had my sketchbook tucked underneath my arm, I went in under the power of a secret. I had climbed off the bus before the one outside of my house. I protected my sketchbook from the soft spring misty rain of the Northwest. I had a few dollars in my pocket, money left over from the stimulus money I had scrounged up. Just enough for some new colored pencils for some more botanical type work for my drawings.

I'm the multiracial kid with the kinky coarse black hair inherited by a Native American mama and the pale skin from my half white daddy. It had been a long road to hoe the past few years in the wake of the pandemic, especially for my mom and me. She and I had been dealing with it with a bit more difficulty from my dad, since he was the one with the job, at least at first. Even though I was a few years younger by the time we got our check, I got one for myself and I made sure the money stretched enough to whenever we got another one.

Even with my drawing pad under my arm, and the introduction of my digital drawing tablet, I had days where it felt like I needed to do something a bit more useful.

It was from all of the times I heard my dad's criticisms about my art in the past. Add to this, the uncertainty from living through a global pandemic and social reset made me wonder where we all would go from the second the dust settled. I needed to rest my head so much following even the smallest projects. I had witnessed the older generation pushed to its brink and stragglers such as myself found themselves at square one for so long that it was difficult to know which way to go. I was always told that I needed something feasible, something to keep me safe. But the pandemic showed that nothing was safe.

Even in my spare time, or in the times I took a day off from drawing, I found myself seeking solace in reading about things like science and of course, listening to music. For years, I found myself leaning more towards the harder side of the rock n' roll world: Soundgarden was the first band I had found, but then there came along Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Alice in Chains. It helped that they hailed from the north of us, so it made sense to me to find them.

But then there was Metallica and Anthrax.

I would sit on the floor of the living room before my stereo with the radio tuned to the modern rock station nearby, and with my earphones in my ears; I would sit there with my drawing pad cradled in my lap and let the music be my master. I came for the scene to the north, but I found my way to the heavy stuff.

I had used a little bit of the stimulus money to buy myself a couple of albums, on part of the recommendation of the chick in the record store of course.

Those swirling powerful but simple drums riddled throughout the Black Album. So simple and yet so strong and with such prowess, perfect for the spine of the music. That strong and exotically beautiful voice from Spreading the Disease. I wanted to touch that voice, to put it and cement it down into something like paper. I was enthralled by the power and prowess of heavy metal.

I scoured the channels of Tumblr to see and study their faces, to see Lars and his long lush brown hair and fuzz about his face, to see Joey and his long beautiful black curls and handsome face, to see them all. And yet I still found my way back to Chris. I still found my way back to him and that unique voice. So deep and full in places and yet unafraid to howl.

And yet I felt so far behind them, a teenage girl from a lower end family and with mixed roots. A girl with parents working so hard that they almost ignore the very craft she was proud of.

I wanted to draw him with roses, complete with the lush red and orange petals. Thus I headed to the little store for some new colored pencils—those good ones that come in all manner of shades of color in a silvery tin. I brought my sketchbook along with me to try them out before I bought them for myself. I already had sketched a portrait of Chris himself but I left him as is so as to fill him out later on.

I stepped into the front of the shop and stripped off my hood. I ran my fingers through my coarse black hair and then unbuttoned my jacket: I looked down at the linoleum floor underneath me. My jeans were falling apart: the waist fitted me a little too well at that point and the hems were tattered. My mom vowed to fix them for me, but when the fabric stores were all closed during the pandemic, it was difficult to find anything that could help us.

I shuffled across the shiny linoleum to the aisle with the colored pencils and the nice paints. I stood before the display case and scanned the tins and boxes before me to find anything that would catch my eye.

I was still adjusting to the world following the pandemic: there was a part of me that wanted to stroke my chin in pensive thought but after hearing all of the talk on not touching your face, a part of me continued to resist that very tidbit. I spotted a box of Prismacolor pencils, seventeen of them to be exact.

Seventeen, and as smooth as butter and right within the budget of twenty dollars in my pocket.

I set my sketchbook down on the shelf so I could open the box and reveal those pencils, and I hoped to see them as sharp and new as I would ever see them. I'm usually easy going on all of my tools just out of the nature of the price range, but I wanted to make the roses on Chris as bold and fiery of red as possible. I took out the scarlet red one and opened the sketchbook for the inside cover and I paid no attention to the fact I held the box, open end sideways. Three pencils slid out from under me.

"For crying out loud," I muttered to myself as I closed the cover and stooped down to fetch them.

"I hope those are nice ones," a voice caught my ear behind me. I turned around to find him looming right there with me. The most stray tendrils of his inky black hair were tousled a bit even as he sprawled over his collar bones and the front of his black raincoat. I stood upright to meet up with his gaze: he towered over me, such that I could make out the sight of the first sprigs of hair sprouting upon the underside of his chin.

"Easy there," he cautioned me, which he accompanied with a raising of his hands.

"It's alright," I assured him, "social distancing hasn't been a thing in quite a while."

"Nah, I don't mean that—I don't want you to drop any more pencils."

"Oh!" I fetched up the pencils I had dropped on the floor and then closed up the box before I drop any more. He grinned at me, and I followed his gaze to the sketchbook perched atop the shelf.

"Is that yours, too?" he asked me.

"Why—yes." I wasn't even flustered and yet I felt it even by his gestures and that gaze from those eyes. He stood so close to me, even with the pandemic behind us. I felt my face growing warm as I took the sketchbook off of the shelf. I forgot I still had it open to that sketched drawing of him; when I took it off of the shelf, I held the drawing of his face right before my chest.

He gasped right as I held it before me.

"Is—Is that me?" he inquiringly asked me in a soft voice.

"Huh?" I clutched at the sketchbook and held the drawing away from him.

"I don't wanna—be rude or intrusive or anything," he swore to me. My face bloomed with warmth. It had been so long since I showed anyone one of my drawings from my sketchbook, much less anyone outside of my family. I whirled around to see the tender expression upon his face: his eyebrows raised a bit and his head bowed enough for me to wonder if he was flirting with me or not. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed through his nose.

I swallowed and then, gingerly, I turned the sketchbook towards him.

He lowered his eyebrows and brought a hand to his mouth as if he was shocked.

"Oh," he breathed, "oh, wow, that's wonderful. I love the roses."

I shrugged.

"I just felt you could use roses," I confessed to him.

"I love it," he admitted as he lowered his hand from his mouth. "I'd love to see it when it's colored in."

"I gotta get some pencils first, though."

"Have at it, girlie." He gestured his open palm towards me as if giving me his blessing. I decided on the Prismacolor pencils—I also didn't see anything else that caught my attention. Within time, I made my way up front to break those twenty dollars even. I kept my sketchbook out in the open and I assured the young peppy clerk that I had already opened it and long paid for it. He lingered near the cash register and eyed the ceramic supplies at the front there. I never thought I would've met him there in that art shop and at such a strange time. I wondered if I could make my rapport with him as I paid for the pencils and awaited the change from the clerk there before me.

He met up with me on the other side with a pensive look on his squarish face. I slipped the pencils and the sketchbook into the plastic bag in hand so as to protect both from the incoming rain. I felt myself blushing again at the sight of him: it didn't help matters that he continued to tower over me.

"What's your name?" he asked me, that pensive look still riddled upon his face.

"Holly. As in Hollywood."

"Hollywood..." He grinned at me. He took out the little burner phone from his jacket pocket: such a sight to see, what with technology the way it had progressed to that point.

"Holly Sherman is my whole name..." My voice trailed off as I watched him open the address book up to a fresh page for a fresh number.

"You want my number, don't you," I teased him.

"Well, yeah. When the drawing's colored in, I wanna see it."

I could not resist that offer, and it was that very moment I knew I would have something on my hands. I would have something on my hands even in the wake of the pandemic.

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dancing-sword · 5 years

Photo

Athal-Pati and the Fold

Kinda sucks that tumblr’s gonna compress the hell out of this image so it might be hard to see that small Halona in the foreground. This is some Balatog concept work I had started way before the “map” I did and is connected to an important character to Balatog.

Since this is probably one of the last posts I’m gonna be making for my plane, I wanted to do something special for it. There’s a little short story after the break that goes along with the picture and a write up throwing out my thoughts and troubles I was having with the this whole leg of creating the custom plane and story. Hopefully I’m able to get the next and last post for Balatog out quicker than this one.

Halona’s small boat, barely a raft, coasted gently through the calm and clear water. Nestled in the gravel bed of the shallow water were crystals of all colors, glowing and fading as the boat came and went casting a soft rainbow spotlight from underneath, the only source of light in the inky black, never ending darkness around her. She knew she was underground, far farther than she thought was possible, but the only ends to the water she ever found were the entrance she took and her destination and the only sounds she could hear were her own breath, the soft ripple of the water, and the occasional creak of her boat in the void.

The gravel rose in a subtle, painfully slow pace that, after a near eternity of drifting, ground the boat to a stop. As she hopped out of her boat and continued her journey trudging through the now ankle deep water, the scattered crystals at her feet became more and more sparse as a source-less shaft of light slowly started to shine down from above following her. Eventually the gravel bed became a gravel beach and that too soon thinned and broke into solid stone. The water and her boat disappeared into the darkness behind her as the stone disappeared into the void in front. Still, she continued on her path.

The landing itself eventually started to vanish as well, thinning first slowly into a road before coming to a point. She stood near the cliff’s edge, the light gray outcropping jutting out into the vast ever present nothing that had accompanied her through her journey so far. She took a second to compose herself, her eyes wandering as they found less than nothing to focus on. She took a long, full breath before calling out at the top of her lungs.

“Athal!”

For a long moment there was only silence, not even her voice echoed back at her. Then she heard it. It started as a low hum, a silent almost inaudible thrum that reminded her more of a distance machine than something natural. It started to build into a rumble coming from all directions as the stone at her feet started to shake. Two points of light suddenly appeared in the distance, widening slowly into long thin lines and hissed liked arching lightning. Cracks of bright light spilled from the growing lines turning the darkness into a cracked black mirror as a howling and buffeting wind kicked up. With each sudden fracture, the world around her strained under the unseen force and the unnatural base-filled groan of miles of rock around her pierced her skull and shook her to the very core.

The world settled into a moment of silence, but Halona already knew what came next. The two lines suddenly opened in all their splendor, one last gust of wind blasted forth and almost made her stumble back. Two eyes stared down at her, shining bright as they seemed to vibrate with color. Although there was no way for her to judge distance in the darkness, her gut told her they had to be more than a hundred paces from her and yet it was near impossible for her to keep both in her field of view.

Legends say when Balatog was sealed and hidden, the world’s guardian pleaded with the land, the sea, and the sky to protect it in their absence and Athal-Pati answered. Athal-Pati the Waking Dream. Athal-Pati the Ever Watcher. Athal-Pati the World’s Voice. Halona composed herself once again, standing tall and defiant in front of the behemoth. She cared little for their titles and they had much to discuss.

The Setting

The original spell cast over Balatog was not a singular spell done at a specific time. Instead, the original planeswalker had taken centuries studying multiple planes; the Ban of Ulgrotha, the fold over Ravnica, the split planes of Theros and Kamigawa, the Shard of Twelve Worlds, and even smaller occurrences like Zhalfir’s phasing and the hedron prison on Zendikar. Each time they would take a bit and add it to their spell, weaving and layering a thicker barrier over the plane. The layering of hundreds of spells made the barrier redundant and practically impenetrable, but its shear immensity distorted the plane.

The Fold is the edge of this distortion. It is essentially impossible to planeswalk into, similar to Theros’s Nix, although it does have many entrances on the plane’s surface, a few permanent, well guarded ones and many more that appear and disappear seemingly on their own accord. Inside, it appears as a seemingly endless underground lake surrounded by a black void with the only landmarks inside being the entrance and a single long cliff extending out into nothing. The distance between the surface and the lake always seems to change, but the distance between any entrance and the cliff almost always stays the same.

The Idea

When Halona first returned to Balatog, several months and many planes after her first planeswalk from her home, she didn’t appear back at her home town like she hoped and instead found herself on the cliff inside the Fold. She didn’t have much time to be confused however as Athal-Pati appeared suddenly and struck at her, unleashing a torrent of spells and raw magic on an unthinkable level and power to her. After a tense moment, Halona humbled by the display and Athal confused by her resilience, Athal started their questioning. Athal eventually calmed down after finding out more about the young walker and after some deliberation, revealed a deeper nature of the world.

As Halona had guessed, Athal-Pati was the legendary monster from the old legend, a formless guardian connected on a metaphysical level to the plane left to protect the world when the old walker had disappeared. Athal seemed to have most if not all the old walker’s knowledge and power believed they had the plane figured out. However, Halona’s first planeswalk had damaged the Ban in someway, a fact that Athal had trouble wrapping their proverbial head around, and because the Ban had been so integrated into the nature of Balatog, the damage had a rippled out. The natural balance of the plane had been upset and as far as Athal could tell, could lead to near apocalyptic damage to the world.

The main premise would be that Athal and Halona had teamed up after this to safe the plane. Athal tasked Halona with not only keeping the plane secret, hoping to minimize any further damage, to replicate their creator’s experiments believing that the relatively recent Mending had changed enough of the Multiverse that some new information could be gleaned from it. The main conflict was supposed to be that on one side, Halona did not truly believe in this cause. She was not sure if fixing the Ban and sequestering Balatog was the best path and keeping the secrets from her friends hurt her deeply. On the other hand, Athal wasn’t as confident with their plan as they tried to seem. They didn’t have the perfect knowledge they thought they had, not knowing what happened to the old walker, the full extent of the spells they cast on the plane, nor how the further inner workings of the plane worked. In truth, they were unsure of their own path, but did not think any other way was viable either. Halona would eventually try to go behind Athal’s back and discover deeper truths of her world.

The Problem

I think the first problem, which I talked about in a previous post, was that the kind of setup I was going for just didn’t work out. Writing and acting as if it were some long form D&D or comic couldn’t mesh well with the kind of work flow and audience I have. Trying to set up the story in role playing just felt disingenuous and quickly felt like it was trying to force Halona as “the main character”.

The second problem was that having Halona stress over if what she was doing was right, trying to decide if having Balatog be free versus having Balatog be safe, seemed less relevant as she grew as a character. When the story’s original plot was created along side Halona, it made more sense, but as I wrote and drew and role played her, it didn’t feel like something she’d struggle with as much. Now, she’d probably have made her decision pretty quickly and wouldn’t think that free and safe had to be mutually exclusive.

The final problem was that I couldn’t really nail down what Athal-Pati nor the actual damage to the plane were going to be. Was Athal a piece of the plane’s worldsoul, the plane’s own consciousness? What were their actual power limits? They were a more or less formless being, but were they aware of everything going on on the plane? Could they even be tricked? What was the actual damage to Balatog going to be? Where the aether storms just going to get out of hand or was something much worse going to be? Would the damage to plane change Athal? Ultimately, I never really could hammer out a definite answer to these questions.

#art #Balatog #Balatog Art #mtg custom plane #Sorry that it's all a bit rambling #I feel like if I keep trying to organize it and make it perfect I'll never get it finished #so better now than never

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cerastes · 5 years

Note

Something I wanted to ask you a few days ago but then you suddenly actually fucked off to the South Pole: Can I ask about your tabletop characters? I know there's Rasmus and a someone named Lisbeth, I think? Do you have more? I'm always up and eager to hear about fruits born from your disaster head.

I do not have more, it’s those two, my beautiful shit children. Rasmus is for my DnD game and Lisbeth is for my Fate Core game. It’d be A PLEASURE to regale you with The Lore:

If you’ve read my tabletop blogging posts, and you likely have given you’re asking about the good ol’ lovable Human Rogue, then you’re already somewhat familiar with Rasmus Kasper Istre. A 24 year old charlatan and swindler through and through, back in his port hometown, Rasmus was a notorious “fortune teller” that scammed many tourists and merchants, an act made easier by the innate superstitious nature of sailors, and while his daggers are sharp, it’s his creativity that cuts deeper, fighting being his very last option as he will always attempt to fool, sabotage and trick others first, only brandishing harm if there’s no other choice. In stark contrast with his enthusiasm when it comes to taking money from others, Rasmus is vehemently opposed to taking lives unless it’s on self-defense or if the one relinquishing their life deserves it, a philosophy he sticks to even if it bites him in the ass. This is, in fact, what triggers his escape from his town: He swindled the riches right out of a big-time Elf magnate, disabled his bodyguard that came gunning for him some time later and even had the perfect chance to off him, yet refused to do so because, as he learned during his time hiding from him, the magnate is actually a really honest if grumpy guy who treats his subordinates fairly and with love, and he’s not about to take that life, opting instead to hit the road. He used to dual wield daggers, but lost one of the daggers during a sky-high encounter with wyvern riders, using an enchanted gauntlet imbued with lightning in the spur of the moment to fight with fist and blade, and he liked how it worked out, so now he uses the lightning gauntlet to deliver close-range blasts and electric grapples with the left hand while his deft dagger whistles with each swipe and lunge of his right. To not inconvenience himself and others, he wears a half cape draped over his left arm so he can touch things and people without thundershocking them or having to remove the gauntlet and risk being ambushed (wearing a glove in the middle of a fight is kinda hard!). He loves wearing cologne, especially one made with ghostshroom extract that he makes himself. People hate the strong smell of it at first but it sort of grows into them like an acquired taste or Stockholm Syndrome, and his favorite foods are juniper berries and beef jerky. Rasmus is 177 centimeters tall, has curly light brown hair, dull green eyes, wears his beard as a stubble, and has an average, fit build. Do NOT call him “Kasper” unless you’re in the mood for a bar fight. Mostly wears leather armor and has a thing for the color green.

Rasmus is childhood friends with Claudia, the party’s Human Wizard, and the two often snipe at each other with affectionate vitriol, although their attempts to screw the other over with money are very real. No hard feelings, though, that’s what it meant to grow poor in a port town, it’s your fault if something is taken from you. He doesn’t always see eye to eye with the Halfling Ranger (Ranger is rather kill-happy, which doesn’t sit well with Rasmus), and is buddy-buddy with the Orc Barbarian, especially when brothels and taverns are concerned. He currently is invested in helping the Orc Barbarian with his character arc whenever he can, as well as furthering his own Money Quest after accidentally starting a religion, the Solar Sect (it’s a long story). After enough deeds, the party received the blessings from Phantom Animal Lords from the wilderness, with Rasmus’ title being “Rabbit”; This is an inside joke referring to how my DM and the rest of my DnD group call Rasmus “Bugs Bunny” due to his trademark outlandish and creative ways of setting up the board to the party’s advantage and problem solving. Among his faithful, he is known as the Augur-spoken Prophet, and it’s really, really spiraling out of control. Initially, Rasmus and Claudia were supposed to hate each other, but Claudia’s player and I, IRL friends since a long time now, decided to make them shitlord friends instead. We were very involved with the creation of both characters and develop them continuously together now. Check the “Rasmus” tag in my blog for more anecdotes of his balls to the walls DnDventures.

Some of his deeds include:

Killing a seemingly unkillable hero by teleporting him high into the sky and letting gravity do the work, using a circumstantial item.

Strapping the corpse of said unkillable hero to a greatshield and creating an extremely powerful shield for our Barbarian to use whenever we need some nigh invulnerability.

Accidentally started a religion when he was accused of high heresy because he defiled the corpse of a hero by turning him into a shield.

Flirting with an Elf Priestess that turned out to be the magnate’s niece.

Flirting with her further anyway.

Naked Parkour in the Elf capital.

Wrapped his phony crystal ball with a chain and used it as an impromptu weapon after being disarmed, cracking a Chaos Dwarf’s skull with a nat 20 swing.

Earned the ‘Rabbit’ title, which apparently only happens once around every 3000 years, as the Rabbit Phantom Animal Lord is capricious and her favor only goes to those cheeky and cunning enough to both amuse her and impress her. Of all those, he’s apparently the second Human to ever have earned the title. Rasmus wears it with pride.

–

The other is Lisbeth Elstad. Now, you’re no doubt thinking to yourself “Wow! No one has a name like that!” And you’re right! Consider that a stage name, or a pseudonym, if you will. In a setting that takes place in the real world after magic and everything from beyond turned out to be real and has suddenly become widespread public knowledge, 19 year old Lisbeth is incredibly inept at even the most basic magic tasks with two exceptions: Mana Layering, the act of creating sheets, layers, and shells of mana, and Alchemy, the ability to turn one thing into another through meticulous formulas and the Law of Equivalent Exchange. In addition to this narrow scope, Lisbeth has always found it oddly easy when it comes to assembling explosives ranging from homebrew fireworks to high-yield plastic explosive custom formulas such as batches of SEMTEX and C4. Finally, Lisbeth is a natural woman of science, a passionate love for biology, physics and chemistry pulsating within her noodle, unfit body. You could say she’s a Human Alchemist/Bombardier of some sort, but her most heartfelt wish is to become a doctor and pharmaceutic. Now, this probably paints the image of a kind, earnest girl that just wants to help out with a smile, right? Well! That’s not quite it! As noble as she sounds, Lisbeth is quite the thug otherwise. Think of her less as a friendly doctor in the making and more of a really shady back alley doc that looks like she came right out of a The Misfits music video. She tries, oh, lord she does, to come across as classy, eloquent, and elegant, but no matter how much Calvin Klein “One” you spray on a rabid boar, it is still a rabid boar, and as soon as her very little threshold of patience is usurped, the elegant business front crumbles and the reality of a violent, easily angered busybody who happily solves her problems with rocks to the back of the head and high yield explosives lays bare. She’s the foster daughter of a famous nomadic mercenary leader known as the Mercury Witch, leader of the White Silhouette, and worked on board their craft as assistant doctor, with the Witch forbidding Lisbeth of taking part on any training that might foster her latent violent tendencies in hopes of mellowing her out. One day, however, they took on a job in which Lisbeth and her mentor, Melicia, ended up unwittingly making REALLY Bad Drugs instead of the Good Medicine they thought they were making for supernatural creatures, Lisbeth found out, they found out she found out, shit hit the fan, everyone’s MIA.

Not much to say about her yet otherwise, as the game is still in its preliminary phase. Instead, I can tell you about the scrapped 27 year old version of Lisbeth that I heavily modified after we discussed things and realized I had to make her much younger for it to make sense with certain aspects of the plot. This version of Lisbeth is still very much the same in terms of abilities, but has quit the White Silhouette on her own terms and roams around as a masked vigilante that aids supernatural beings oppressed by humans and as a doctor that helps supernatural beings for free. Most of her time is devoted to finding locations that traffic supernaturals or pits them in underground arena fights and dismantles them with the superior firepower and flair of plastic explosives and some good ol’ infiltration. During her time in France, she was suddenly attacked by a girl in traditional Japanese priestess attire, inciting what nearly was a deathmatch between the two of them. As the mystery girl realized Lisbeth wasn’t her target, however, she immediately stopped and apologized. The girl, named Yamaoka Keiko, is a prophet and descendant of the Blind Dragons who could see the future. The problem, she explained, was that her eyes were stolen and replaced with ones that can see, and she hates it. She’s looking for whoever it is stole her blind, silver eyes to claim them back and go back to her peaceful, beloved life of comfortable darkness and peace back in her shrine. Lisbeth, however, seems to have a clue about who it could be that can steal and switch something like eyes without any difficulty, and believing this to be fate as well as her responsibility indirectly, offers to travel with Keiko in search for her eyes. The two become good friends over the course of 18 months of traveling together in this adventure, but Keiko takes an extremely grave wound one day and is left unable to move for a good while, even with all of Lisbeth’s medical knowledge. Finding herself alone and unsure of Keiko’s future, Lisbeth decides to join the official magic law enforcement outfit that she hates in order to gain access to their information network. I’ll probably use this version of Lisbeth for other things, since I don’t wanna scrap it, bwahaha, probably with Glock Elf and TechSlime (and same with Keiko).

Regardless of her version, Lisbeth has an intravenous hose installed inside of her arms that leads to a “cauldron” in her torso, utilizing “internal alchemy” to transform proteins and cells into other chemicals, which she then expels through holes on the palms of her hands. This way, she can spray, say, napalm out of her hands. Since she has absolutely no competence at all in the art of magic but has an innate talent when it comes to chemistry and alchemy, she instead “fakes” magic by creating concoctions with her knowledge. Lisbeth stands at 176 centimeters, has a lanky, thin physique, and wears silver contacts (which is why Keiko thought she had her eyes) and hair dyed a very light creamy blonde. She wears classy suits and long-skirted jumper dresses for the most part, with an Orthrus (two-headed wolf) pelt draped over her shoulders, both heads dangling off her left shoulder. Her choice of attire and appearance, much like her pseudonym, are all part of her “business front”. Despite her bluster, she’s rather cowardly, but also extremely resolute. Lisbeth is the kind of character that would usually be the NPC Shopkeeper that sells you potions and charges you a small fee to fully heal your party, but circumstance has thrown her right into the adventurer’s shoes, and now she has to deal with it crying, screaming, and complaining, but hey, at least she gets to put her knowledge of bombs to good use!

#rasmus #lisbeth #tiza #long post #whoops I gone and made a wall without meaning to

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soul-music-is-life · 6 years

Note

Hi! I saw your post about cosplay! And I was wondering if you could write a prompt of Alison and Emily coming home to find the twins dressed their little brother as stitch? Any way I love you and hope you have a great week!!!!! 🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈

Here’s to you having a lovely weekend. Love back at you.

******

It was their first night out in months. It should have been a grand celebration, a time to let loose. Emily DiLaurentis-Fields had planned the quiet intimate night for her wife, the mother of her three children. First they had taken a moonlit walk together, connecting, just the two of them without the constant interruption of their daughters and baby boy. The quiet was almost unnerving. They weren’t used to not having kids around.

After their walk they had taken a canoe ride under the stars. And to top off the night Emily had secured a spot at one of the town’s hottest restaurants that usually required a two week waiting period to get in. Afterwards she had a few more things planned. The whole night was supposed to be relaxing. But she noticed that Alison seemed anything but relaxed.

Alison was holding her tension in her shoulders. The blonde mama bear had a reason to be nervous. It was the twins first time alone with their baby brother. They were thirteen and responsible. Well, Lily was responsible. But even so, Alison found her mind littered with questions. Had they made sure all of the toxic cleaning supplies were locked up? Did Lily and Grace know the number to poison control? Had they locked all the doors and windows? Did the girls know where the fire extinguisher was in case of an emergency? What if the baby put something in his mouth and choked on it? Were all the scissors put away? Were all the electrical outlets covered? What if their son got scared and wanted his mommies? What if he needed something and they weren’t there?

Everything that could possibly go wrong was going on through her head. Fires, floods, the end of the earth. The pensive look on her face coupled with the fact that she had twirled a huge lump of pasta on to her fork and was still mindlessly spinning the utensil gave her away.

“Alison, they’re fine.” Emily put her hand on top of Alison’s, stilling her motions. “The girls watch him all the time when we’re home. And Aria promised to look in on them from time to time.”

“I know.” Alison sighed. “It’s just…” She paused, her lips pursed.

“You miss them.” Emily smiled softly.

Alison nodded, shying away, like she was embarrassed to admit she had become one of those helicopter moms. Emily curled her fingers into Alison’s palm.

“I miss them, too.” She squeezed Alison’s hand. Not having their son with them made her feel a longing emptiness. But she knew her daughters were taking care of him.

“What do you think they’re doing right now?” Alison asked.

Emily glanced at her watch. If she knew her daughters they were up to no good. They were probably drawing all over their little brother’s face and gluing fake eyebrows on him and feeding him a bunch of sugar so they could watch him toddle around on a sugar high with a bucket on his head.

“They’re probably reading him a bedtime story.” Emily tried to keep a straight face. She didn’t want to give Alison any other ideas of what could go wrong.

“We should call them to check in.” Alison bit down on her lip.

“Sweetie, relax.” Emily rubbed Alison’s hand. “He’s a tough kid. He can handle a few hours with his big sisters. We made him durable.” She assured her. “Remember when he started walking?”

“My back still hurts from squatting down and following him around everywhere.” Alison nodded with a quiet laugh. She’d referred to that time as “The Hunchback phase” because she spent all of her time hunched over him.

“And do you remember what happened when he fell and hit his head on the coffee table?” Emily asked.

“Besides my heart attack?” Alison asked sarcastically. If Emily was trying to make her feel better about leaving their baby alone she was not succeeding.

“He got right back up and kept going. He didn’t shed one tear. And do you remember why?”

Alison stopped to think about it. Once the heavy fear and her panic had subsided that day she had seen something beautiful.

“Because Lily and Grace were right there to encourage him to get back up and try again.” Alison spoke fondly of her daughters.

“They’re good girls, Ali. They’ll take care of him.”

“Yeah.” Alison rolled her palm up to meet Emily’s hand on top of hers. She smiled at her.

She wordlessly slipped her hand away from Emily’s and then went back to her dinner. Emily watched her for a few minutes. The blonde seemed more at ease, but her thoughts were still distant. Her gaze was on her food, but her mind was on their son. Alison noticed that Emily had stopped eating. She glanced up at her.

“Everything okay?” Alison asked.

“Let’s go home.” Emily reached down and pulled her napkin away from her lap. She put it on the table.

“Really?” Alison’s face lit up. Her excitement wavered for a second. “Oh, but Em, you planned this whole night…”

“The goal of this night was to make you happy,” Emily said, knowing that nothing on earth would make her wife happier than seeing their son before he went to bed. “Let’s go see our babies. I know they make you smile.”

“This is why I love you so much.” Alison leaned over the table and kissed her. Her wife knew her so well.

Emily paid the check and then drove home. Alison watched the clock the whole time, wondering if they would make it home before their son fell asleep. Alison had worked herself up so much that she expected a loud chaotic scene with screaming and things on fire when she walked through the door. Instead, they walked into the living room to find a few floor puzzles laid out, a coloring book and crayons sitting on the table, and the TV on low volume.

Their daughters were curled up on the couch with their baby brother. Grace was on one end, her head against the crook of the couch and her feet stretched out over the ottoman. Lily was on the other end, her feet plopped on top of Grace’s legs. They were both asleep. Their little brother was sandwiched between them leaning against Lily, his cheek resting against her side. His bright alert eyes were full of excitement over seeing his moms.

He climbed down off of the couch, pulling what looked to be a blue blanket down with him. When his feet touched the floor they saw that it wasn’t a blanket he had wrapped around his body. The blue hood over his head had bright pink ears outlined by blue wool. The onesie costume was covering his entire body from head to toe.

“Hi, baby.” Alison said softly as he wobbled on his feet to get over to his moms.

“Did you tire your sisters out?” Emily chuckled.

“Sissies sleeping.” He put his chubby little finger against his lips and shushed his moms. He stopped at Alison’s feet and looked up at her. “Hi, Mama.”

Alison thought her heart might melt at the sight of him. The only thing she could see around the face of his costume were his eyes and his smile. His rosy red cheeks puffed out when he grinned up at his mothers.

“Aw, look at you all dressed up like a…blue little koala.” Alison kneeled down and picked him up. He kissed her nose, full open mouth, licking her with his tongue, because he was still learning how to kiss.

“Please tell me you’re joking. You don’t know who he is supposed to be?” Emily raised a single brow at Alison.

“He’s mama’s little koala bear.” Alison nuzzled his face with her nose. She didn’t care that he’d slobbered all over her. He giggled.

“He’s Stitch. From Lilo and Stitch.” Emily laughed.

“I never saw that one.”

“You what? I’m contacting a divorce attorney. I don’t even know who you are.” Emily teased her.

“Hi, mommy.” He reached for Emily. Alison leaned over so he could hug Emily’s neck. He curled his neck and pushed against Emily’s shoulder.

“Hi, sweet boy.” Emily kissed the top of his soft head.

He pulled up and looked at Emily and then back at Alison. He looked at his sleeping sisters on the couch. He started squirming in Alison’s arms.

“Down, mama.” He demanded.

Alison put him down and he turned away from them. He took a few steps and started to stumble, but put his hands out on the ground before he hit the floor. His butt was up in the air, a little lump for a tail sticking straight up as he moved forward. He got back to his feet and then walked back over to the couch. He reached up and put his hands against Lily’s thigh and shook her.

“Wiwo.” He curled his little fingers against her pants and tugged on them. It took Alison and Emily a minute to realize he was trying to say “Lilo.” Not Lily, but Lilo.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, buddy?” Lily yawned. She opened her eyes and stretched.

“Mommies home.” He climbed up on the couch, jostling Grace awake as well.

The girls both turned and faced their mothers. Lily and Grace looked at one another nervously. Had they really dozed off when they were supposed to be keeping an eye on their little brother?

“Grace, you fell asleep?” Lily was quick to throw her sister under the bus.

“I thought you were watching him!” Grace frowned.

Emily and Alison looked at one another, amused. They decided to let the girls sweat it out for a little bit.

“We…um…” Lily chuckled nervously, pulling her brother into her lap. “Smile, wave, be cute.” She whispered to him.

He giggled. Alison and Emily still didn’t say anything.

“Okay, admittedly this looks bad.” Grace smiled nervously.

It was Emily who finally broke.

“Nothing is on fire. Your brother is still alive.” She walked over to the girls. She squeezed on to the couch between them. “I think we can call this one a win.” She laughed.

Grace and Lily breathed a sigh of relief.

“What have you party animals been up to tonight?” Alison pushed her way in next to Emily.

“Oh, you know. Keg stands. Beer pong. Drugs and rock and roll. The norm.” Lily leaned in and snorted against her little brother’s cheek to make him laugh.

He squealed out a string of giggles. All of the girls smiled.

“Do you like his outfit?” Grace questioned. “We’ve been saving it for a special occasion. We thought tonight was fitting since it was all about family time. The Lilo and Stitch way.”

“Your mother doesn’t know who Lilo and Stitch are.” Emily smiled crookedly at Alison.

Grace looked at Alison. Her jaw dropped.

“I will disown you, mother.”

“I’m offended.” Lily added, looking at the toddler on her lap. “Tell mom what we learned tonight, little man.”

“Ohana,” he said, crawling into Emily’s lap. He looked up at Alison.

“It means family.” Grace clarified. She leaned over and took her brother’s hands, moving them up and down, making him laugh. “And family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten, right?”

“Ohana!” He exclaimed a little more enthusiastically. He bounced in Emily’s lap, glancing back at Lily, then looking at Grace. “I love you sissies and mommies.”

“We love you, too, Sammy.” Grace leaned across Alison’s lap and placed a kiss on her little brother’s forehead.

The day Samuel Wayne DiLaurentis-Fields had been born he had stolen every single one of their hearts. He was so loved. And he knew it.

Emily and Alison glanced at one another, their hearts completely full. Alison leaned in and placed a kiss on Emily’s lips. She mouthed a silent “I love you” to her wife. She was so thankful they were sharing this moment. All Emily had wanted to do was make this night special for Alison. It turns out, everything they needed to make it special was right at home.

#Emison #Pretty Little Liars #Prompt #Emison family #Lilo and Stitch #Emily Fields #Alison DiLaurentis #Lily DiLaurentis-Fields #Grace DiLaurentis-Fields #Emison fanfic #asks

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