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the-girl-who-didnt-smile · 25 days

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My second favorite OCs of all time:

Baron Samedi (Hazbin Hotel) & Maman Brigitte (Hazbin Hotel)

These two are pictured here as a set, because they quite literally come as a set.

Let’s talk about the Big Bad Baron first.

I can picture what the Big Bad Baron looks like in my mind, but I am afraid my fragile human hands have failed to capture his image. Nobody got done dirtier in my sketches than he did. This is where I really wish I had the Vivziepop pizzazz. If Viv had drawn this, his design would really pop off. Alas, he totally just looks like discount Dr. Facilier here. It pisses me off so much. I’m really fucking mad at myself, cuz I love this character and I did his ass so dirty. This guy should just completely shit all over Dr. Facilier and make him look like a complete fucking loser. I have regrettably failed the assignment.

Since I have failed to capture his image, I am just going to describe to you what this guy is supposed to be like.

This man is supposed to be, without exaggeration, the scariest thing in all of existence. He’s supposed to be the scariest skeleton man to ever scary skeleton man.

Everyone thinks he’s the scary skeleton man until this guy walks in the room.

He should completely shit all over literally every other scary skeleton man in the fictionspace. All those guys are fucking losers, they all look so stupid and lame, they are not scary at all to anyone except five year-olds! But not this guy. He’s scary.

He loves being scary, too. This man literally feeds off of fear and pain, for he is SADISM INCARNATE.

This is like a huge guy. He is the tallest of the Loa (as in, the gods of the Hazbin Hotel universe), and they’re all really tall. He wears a top hat to make himself look even taller. He’s got huge shoulders, and his hat is completely covered in really scary skulls. His face is the scariest skull of all. He’s decked out in the most insane skeleton drip you have ever seen in your entire life. But you can’t go too crazy with the skeleton drip, because he has to have a very distinct silhouette. This is really important because this is one of the Bill Cipher-ass things this guy loves doing: He loves infecting people with nightmares of their impending death just to make them scared of him.

This how the Baron appears in your dreams: Out on the horizon, you see the tallest man you have even seen in your entire life, wearing a top hat that makes him look even taller, he’s got all these dreadlocks coming out of his scary skull head, and he’s wearing this awesome long coat that makes his broad shoulders look even broader. You can’t see any detail on this guy, just his pitch black silhouette standing out on the horizon. Then he starts walking towards you, and everything around him starts dying. The grass is turning black and dead all around him and birds start falling out of the sky. And then just jumpscares you with all sorts of horrifying shit. He does this to you every fucking night until the day you die. He’s a little sadistic in this regard.

This man is literally as sadistic as one can possibly be. He’s literally just sadism incarnate.

But it’s important to keep in mind that he’s not actually evil. He does tons of scary shit to the good and the evil all the time.

I also really want him to be somewhat visually inspired by Botswana’s underground heavy metal scene. I just think those guys are really styled out. The Big Bad Baron should look like he listens to tons of heavy metal and hardcore hip hop when he works out.

He has the deepest voice out of all the Loa, and adds kick ass dark tones to their jazz songs.

The whole design principle behind this guy is to make him like a tribute to everything that fucking rules about the dark side of voodoo. As I mentioned before, popular media only ever shows the dark side of voodoo. This goes back to how slavery, how the religion of voodoo was demonized because it was a threat to the colonization and enslavement of Africans by Europeans, which is why you never see the all-powerful, mischievous old man in the straw hat who loves dogs (which makes me so sad, because I really want to see the all-powerful mischievous old man who loves dogs). But let’s be real here. The dark side of voodoo is cool as fuck. Let’s just embrace that.

This guy is supposed to be everything that is cool as all fuck about the dark side of voodoo!

Take One Piece for example. In One Piece, there’s a character named Crocodile. In the grand scheme of things, Crocodile’s powers fucking suck. His power is that he can turn himself into sand, he can create huge sandstorms, and he can make this little sickle with his hand and everyone who gets slashed with the sickle turns into a zombie. And he is very fast. If he wants to, he can probably slash you with this sickle. You’re thinking to yourself, “Wow, he sounds really fucking strong.” No, dude. His powers fucking suck. There are guys in One Piece with powers like “I can make make earthquakes appear in thin air” “I can turn into a huge fucking dragon and can kill anything” and “Anything I can imagine becomes possible”. There’s literally a guy who has a power that’s “You look at me, you die” and that’s just one of his powers. He can do all sorts of other crazy shit too! If you hit Crocodile with a little bit of water, he is no longer impervious to damage. You just hit him with a hose and then pull out a gun and shoot his ass, and now he’s fucking dead. Crocodile has one of the worst powers in all of One Piece! But his powers so fucking cool. They look so fucking cool, dude! Here is a clip of what Crocodile looks like when he’s using his powers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DdW0Z0jS2AQ . He is by far the weakest out of the three characters featured in this video, but in terms of visuals, he completely shits all over them. I look at this guy and think, “he’s literally the coolest guy in all of One Piece. Oda is a fucking liar, this guy is definitely the most powerful character in One Piece”. I would literally put Crocodile on my pirate crew. This is very stupid of me. If you’re trying to make a serious bid for the One Piece, you need the guy with the “You look at me, you die” power. Not the guy you can kill with a hose and a gun. We are never getting the One Piece (which is probably this awesome planet destroying weapon) I don’t even care.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah.

This is another design principle that went into the Big Bad Baron. He is not the most powerful of the Loa, but he looks the coolest. All his powers have to be the coolest thing you have ever seen in your entire goddamn life.

Another thing that rules about him: The Baron has the highest attack stat out of all the Loa. I have been around the block of the animepowerscalingspace, and the character that I always think is the coolest is the guy who just has the highest attack stat. You need all these other stats to actually win a fight, but the guy with the highest attack stat always just looks the coolest. That guy’s always my favorite. The Baron has the highest attack stat, so his powers fucking rule, but we are going get into his powers later.

Several creative liberties were taken with the visuals of the “Big Bad Baron”. First of all, Baron Samedi isn’t actually supposed to have dreadlocks, but I just think he looks cooler with dreadlocks. Also Baron Samedi (as in, the actual deity) wears these awesome black sunglasses, but I don’t want The Big Bad Baron (as in, my Deviantart OC) to wear those (at least, not most of the time) because I want you to be able to see his eyes. And he’s got to have some scary eyes!

The Big Bad Baron is really scary because he’s the Loa of Death. (in the actual religion, Baron Samedi is actually called the Loa of the Dead, but I just Loa of Death goes harder). Let’s talk a little about all the different ways this guy can kill you.

HOW THE BIG BAD BARON KILLS YOUR ASS

Because he’s the Loa of Death, the Big Bad Baron is just walking around exerting death all around him. He establishes a radius around himself, and everything within the radius starts dying.

He can also just glare at you in a scary way, and you die. Or he can touch you with his scary skeleton hands, and that kills the fuck out of you.

(he needs to have very scary skeleton hands. literally, the scariest skeleton hands to ever be scary skeleton hands)

So yeah. The Baron can kill your ass by touching you, looking at you, or just by his mere presence.

This is also not a matter of “can”, but “when”. For the Big Bad Baron is the Grim Reaper of the Hazbin Hotel universe.

The job of the Baron is transporting the dead to the afterlife. He sadistically drags evil souls down into Hell, and solemnly shuttles the good up to Heaven.

Death comes for us all.

(also this is also really fucking funny to me. this is his fucking job, dude. one of the gods literally has a 9 to 5)

“ETERNAL TORMENT”

The Big Bad Baron has a move called “Eternal Torment”. This is probably his favorite move of them all.

This is what “Eternal Torment” looks like: https://the-girl-who-didnt-smile.tumblr.com/post/746959269952471040/from-the-perspective-of-the-damned-time-slows

“Eternal Torment” is when the Baron makes a little black hole out of his scary ass magic, the black hole is full of pain and torture. He turns his head towards you, and while he’s doing this his entire head becomes this really scary skull (his face should always be pretty fucking scary, but his skull head has got to be way scarier than that. really fucking scary!!) Then he rips your soul out of you and throws it into the black hole. While you’re inside the black hole, time slows down exponentially. You are always approaching the asymptote that is your death, but you never actually get there. As a result, you experience torture for eternity.

In Hazbin Hotel, we can assert that Hell is not actually Hell. Honestly, Hell doesn’t seem that much worse than several places that exist in the real world (it’s probably actually better than some places, too) But this man.. this man has the power to make actual Hell! As in, the place where you experience the worst imaginable torture forever!! The Baron can just rip your soul out of your body and throw it right in there! He loves doing this, too. This is like his favorite move.

After your soul gets thrown into the little black hole of torture, the Baron opens his scary skull mouth really wide and sucks the black hole inside. While he’s doing this, you can see glimpses of all the other damned souls he’s storing inside of him. That’s how he ends the move.

One might hope he does this to the most evil people only, but no. Alas, none of these gods are Good or Evil. You could be the most evil guy ever, and he won’t do this to you. The way you trigger this is by disrespecting him.

This is super important, I should have mentioned this at the start: The Golden Rule that you teach your favorite children is that You Never Disrespect the Loa. These boys…these boys right here are gods. Do you have any idea how strong a god is? These boys have all sorts of mind-boggling, horrifying ways they can torture you for all of eternity! Bro, if Velvette tried it with these guys, she’s literally going to get fucked on by the most busted anime characters of all time for all of eternity. If you love your children at all, you teach them this from the moment they can process human thought.

(By the way, this is totally my headcanon: The reason why Alastor has this whole Southern gentleman going on is because his mother was a really, really good mother. A really, really responsible mother who fucking taught him not to disrespect the Loa from the moment he could understand human thought. Alastor’s like a mischievous little deer demon, he is often times very sassy and passive aggressive. But if any one of these boys showed up in front, he would never fucking sass them. He’s literally going to be on his best behavior, and you’re only going to be able to tell what his actual emotion is through his eyes. His eyes might look really pissed off and he might be gritting his words out, but he’s not coming anywhere close to sassing any of these boys. These guys are way the fuck stronger than Lucifer! It is completely out of character for Alastor to be anything but on his most perfect and best behavior, because he fucking knows how strong the gods are)

So yeah, the Big Bad Baron is just going around storing tons and tons and tons of these damned souls inside of him. He crushes them down to a single particle so he can store all of them and while he’s walking around, he just picks a few and expands them really fast, then crushes them back down really fast. This unimaginably painful for the soul inside this little black hole of torture. This is literally the Baron’s favorite thing to do in the whole wide world.

This man literally feeds off your pain and torment. He fucking loves this shit.

(also, this is totally what I think Alastor means when he says he’s going to rip your soul apart. It’s not like you just cease to exist. No, bro. Time slows down for you exponentially. You are always approaching but never reaching your death, so if he rips your soul you just experience torture forever. This is why Husk is always shitting his pants around Alastor. The Big Bad Baron totally taught Alastor how to rip souls apart. I am so goddamn stupid and insane that my headcanons are full of my fucking deviantart OCs that do not exist at all within the canon Hazbin Hotel! I really just Alastor to be scary as all fuck, OK?)

(also Alastor is FTM trans. He’s literally a serial killer who actually existed in the real world. He’s literally just the Voodoo Killer from Louisiana who was born around year 1900. 30 years later he became evil Cab Calloway. My headcanons are completely fucking normal, I swear)

BIG BAD BARON’S POWERS - EXPLAINED

This is how the Big Bad Baron’s powers, and why he has the highest attack stat out of all the Loa.

Similar to Big Papa, the Big Bad Baron is not actually a scary skeleton man in a cool top hat. That’s just the avatar he projects into three-dimensional space so he can interact with humans. He is in fact a near infinite reserve of extremely powerful magic that can do all sorts of mind-boggling, insane, voodoo magic bullshit.

(by “voodoo magic”, i do not mean actual voodoo magic. I mean my version of voodoo that i’m putting in my deranged Hazbin Hotel fanfiction. literally, just broken ass anime powers)

The Big Bad Baron has black magic. It is literally pitch black in color. This is why his sketch looks kind of rougher than the other gods. The extra black scribbly bits around him are the magic that this really fucking powerful god - literally, only second to the master of dimensional manipulation - is radiating all around him.

The black magic is just “pain”. It is the magic of pure destruction.

The Big Bad Baron establishes a radius around him and exerts his magic into that. Everything in the radius gets destroyed. This is a completely passive power, he does not need to think or take any action to use this power once it has been activated. He can make the radius of this power very large. Literally, the size of an entire galaxy. That is just a rough estimate, he might be able to make the radius way bigger than that. It’s definitely at least big enough to destroy a galaxy.

For you see, the Big Bad is always restraining his power, and he restrains it by a lot. For he is a very sadistic man. He wants to see the pain and fear in your eyes before he kills your ass. If he wasn’t restraining his power, you and everyone on Earth would die before he ever gets to enjoy your pain and fear.

That’s why his mere presence kills you. You’re getting hit with a force that can destroy an entire galaxy.

When he looks at you in a scary way, he’s subtly concentrating more of his scary-ass magic in the space you occupy. That’s why he can kill you by just fucking looking at you.

When the Baron is no longer restraining his power, you can tell because his entire head turns into a skull. That’s when you know someone’s about to get completely fucked on by the - quite literally - scariest thing in all of existence.

As far as active powers go, the Baron can make these horrifying black spikes of death anywhere within the radius of his passive attack. The black spikes are him concentrating his magic in that area. This is going to hurt a lot, even if you are also strong as all fuck. The strength of the spike is proportional to how close the spike is to his body.

This explains this man’s scary skeleton hands. Those scary skeleton hands are black in color because they are not actually made out of bones. Those are his magic spikes. They’re so fucking close to the center of his body. Do you have any idea how strong these things are? They basically do infinite damage.

This man’s scary skeleton hands are so goddamn strong that hurt another god, and it hurts a lot! You have to be so goddamn strong to do any amount of damage to a god, let alone that much damage!!

This also explains his black hole of torture move. It’s not actually a black hole. He’s just concentrating shit ton of his magic into this orb, and he makes it look like a black hole because he thinks black holes and skeletons and shit are cool.

I love this guy. He fucking rules.

There is more to say about this man’s powers, but let’s talk about his hot ass wife first.

MAMAN BRIGITTE - EXPLAINED

The gorgeous woman he has at his hip is called Maman Brigitte. Her personality is supposed to be the complete opposite of the Baron’s. This is like the nicest woman who ever lived. This is because she heals people. She has pink healing magic.

You might think this makes her “Good”, but no. She was designed around the principle of “Nice is Not Good”. She’ll fucking heal anyone. She’ll literally heal Hitler if he asks her to.

Case in point: Look at her fucking husband. This woman married the scariest, most sadistic, insane guy ever. She loves this man. They are so in love with each other.

This is a creative liberty I took with her. In the actual mythology Baron Samedi is like a womanizer who is cheating Maman Brigitte all the time. Maman Brigitte is also really promiscuous. I just think it’s so much better if these two are insanely loyal to each other. Maman Brigitte pretty much does whatever Baron Samedi asks her to, and he’s really protective of her.

This is just a way better dynamic for the purposes of storytelling, for a lot of different reasons.

Maman Brigitte is a very agreeable woman and she loves her husband more than anything. They could literally be standing out on a mountaintop. Baron Samedi has tied someone to the mountain top and is ripping out their liver in the excruciating way possible. Right before this person dies, he asks Maman Brigitte to heal them, so she does. Then he rips this person’s liver out again, and asks her to heal them again, so she does. He just keeps doing that until he gets bored, and it is really hard to make this man get bored of inflicting pain on a human being. This is not even a hypothetical. They would totally do this. They’ve totally done this tons of times. They’re probably doing this right now.

Also the fastest way to piss off the Baron is to come near his wife, and you never want to piss this guy off. He is so protective of his hot-ass wife that if you lay a single finger on her or just look at her the wrong way, his whole head is going to turn into a skull and that’s when you know you are going to get completely fucked on by strongest man who ever existed and ever will exist. Literally, the man with the highest attack stat in on all of the fictionspace.

(I really want this man to literally have the attack stat in all of the fictionspace. It’s just a scary skeleton man who wears a cool top hat.)

I took another creative liberty with Maman Brigitte. In Voodoo, Maman Brigitte is portrayed as a white or light-skinned biracial woman because Maman Brigitte is the only one of the Loa that is European in origin, not African. But like every medium in fictoin has this problem of colorism, where you just never seen dark-skinned women unless she doesn’t have speaking lines or she’s like aggressive and/or evil. It’s wack as all fuck. So in my version Maman Brigitte is a transracial adoptee. She speaks with an Irish accent and has little shamrocks in her earrings. She’s also got to have the second greatest singing voice out of all the Loa. You gotta back in time and pull Ella Fitzgerald into the present and have her voice this woman. She is only second to Big Papa, and it is a very close second.

So this is why Maman Brigitte is really fucking scary: Her pink healing magic is really strong healing magic. It’s basically infinite healing. Guess who she uses it on? You guess it - her husband.

Maman is married to the craziest, scariest man who ever lived, and she just fucking heals him!!

The only thing that made this guy remotely reasonable is that he doesn’t have the highest defense or battle IQ. When you’re fighting, he basically just chases you around, inside his sphere of raw destruction the radius of an entire galaxy. He is a rather reckless fighter, he could probably work on his defense. But now he’s got a woman who can heal him infinitely.

You’re up against the guy with infinite attack power and infinite healing!

Maman also heals herself of course. She is the only thing that ever existed and ever will exist that is completely immune to Baron Samedi’s magic. She is the only thing he can touch with his scary skeleton hands without hurting.

Because they are gods, the Baron and Maman can both withstand dimensional shifts and attacks. Big Papa only gives them trouble because Big Papa is a fucking pain in the ass to land a hit on and “Crossroads” is a very strong magic attack.

Big Papa is so goddamn OP that he for sure wins any one-on-one fight with any of the other Loa. But this next part is really fucking insane: The dyad of the Baron and Maman Brigitte can probably kill his ass. This is literally the only thing that I can think of that can take down the Doorkeeper of the Dimensions. It takes them so fucking long too. Literally, the entire multiverse destroyed. It basically takes them until the end of time to get the W, and they might still lose. The couple with infinite attack power and infinite healing still might lose to the Doorkeeper of the Dimensions because Big Papa is just that devious and creative with his powers. He’s just that fucking broken, but I think they probably win.

I don’t even like shipping, but I would ship the fuck out of these two. It’s just like Harley Quinn and the Joker, but if that was a healthy relationship and not abusive as all fuck. Couple goals, TBH.

Maman’s healing is so potent she could definitely resurrect the dead with it, but she is forbidden from doing so. Mortality is one of the properties that defines humanity, separating us from the likes of angels and immortals. To remove the mortality of humanity essentially means the end of humanity itself. Maman was created to serve as an intermediary between humanity and uppercase God, she is forbidden from resurrecting the dead.

She doesn’t mind, though. Her husband loves that she’s forbidden from resurrecting the dead! This means that death is final, which makes humans a lot more scared of death. Being sadism incarnate, he loves it when humans fear him. If her husband loves this, Maman loves it too. She loves her man.

THE BARON'S SOFT SPOT FOR NICE GIRLS

Let's be real here, the focus of Hazbin Hotel isn't powerscaling. This isn't some shounen bullshit tournament arc anime, it's a musical that isn't about powerscaling AT ALL. What it's actually about is shipping. Here's a detail that shippers might appreciate.

The Baron is the most ruthless, sadistic guy ever. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone, he actively enjoys and feeds off of human pain. But deep down he does have a soft spot for nice girls. Just look at his wife.

However, the Baron only has a soft spot for nice girls who are perfectly nice. You have to be 100% completely blameless your entire life for him to not want to hurt you. If you ever got impatient once in a grocery store, he’ll literally just strap you to a mountaintop and tear out your liver forever. He does not give a single fuck about you.

For to not want to inflict pain on you means you were something truly special. You were literally blameless every for your entire goddamn life.

THE CREATION MYTH OF BARON SAMEDI AND MAMAN BRIGITTE

Because this is my fanfiction, I can really just make up whatever silly bullshit I want and make it part of my fanfiction. What I am about is not true of the actual Loa (as in, the actual voodoo deities) I’m just putting this in my fanfiction because I think it’s really funny: So the order that Bondye made the Loa is the order of their power level, but in reverse. Big Papa looks like funny Black Santa Claus, so you would think he’s the oldest, but he’s actually the one Bondye made last. That’s why he’s so goddamn strong - he is the product perfected. The Baron was the one made second last, which is why he is only second to the most broken character in all of the fictionspace. And it’s a close second too. So Maman Brigitte was made before him. What happened was the reverse the Adam and Eve creation myth. Maman Brigitte was lonely, she asked Bondye for a mate. Bondye gets to cooking, and this is what pops out of the oven: The scariest skeleton to ever scary skeleton man. She was ecstatic. This is exactly what she wanted. This is her ideal mate!!

That really tells you everything you need to know about this woman. She scares the shit out of me.

THE BARON GOES BERSERK

Another great thing about making the Baron super loyal to Maman is it gives him a berserk mode.

That’s right - If you somehow figure out a way to kill the unkillable Maman, the Baron goes berserk.

I was really struggling to figure out how his berserk could possibly when this man literally already has the highest attack stat that is at all possible to give a fictional character. I really could not fathom how one could possibly make him even stronger. Then it dawned on me. The word “possible”.

When the Baron goes Berserk, things that were once impossible now become possible.

This only works for attack moves. When in Berserk mode, the Baron is now able to use every attack move that was previously inaccessible to him. This includes Dimensional Manipulation and “Crossroads!” and any other busted ass power that might exist in all of the fictionspace.

Of course all of his offensive capabilities like speed and attack power are maxed out.

That’s how fucking strong this guy becomes.

He’s got to look like literally the coolest thing ever when this happens.

Sadly, Big Papa still claps his ass in a one-on-one fight. This is because the Baron’s defenses drop off, and he never had the best battle IQ to begin with. One must remember that Doorkeeper of the Dimensions is not merely the wielder of dimensional manipulation. He is the master of it. Also Big Papa is the most busted shit ever because he literally has the highest or second highest of any given stat among the Loa, and if he’s second it is a close second. He’s a fucking problem even for the other gods. Long story short, I regret to report that the second strongest out of all the gods of the Hazbin Hotel universe gets tossed by the strongest of them all.

I might add to this because I feel like there’s a lot more I could say about these characters. These guys are just endlessly fun to talk about. I could literally write a book about them.

THE DYAD OF THE BARON AND MAMAN

I forgot to put this in the original post, but this is how I was picturing their dyad forms. They fuse into each other and what comes out is this massive, awesome-looking grim reaper. He’s still got on the top hat and the coat, but the coat is kind of ripped up behind him. He doesn’t have legs anymore, just this big cool ripped up coat. He’s the size of an entire solar system. He has a scary skill face and scary black skeleton hands. Right in the center of his chest, he has this beautiful jewel full of pink and black magic. You can see the colors swirling in their, because that’s where Maman’s magic is casting her healing on him.

In Berserk mode, the grim reaper somehow looks even cooler. He should look completely horrifying now. You should all the wrath and pain imaginable in his face, because you just killed this man’s wife! He loved his wife more than anything! She was literally the only thing holding this man back from killing the entire multiverse! Now the jewel in the center of his chest is cracked and all black. Because Maman died, all her pink healing magic vanished with her.

#hazbin hotel ocs #i would be fine with changing their names if naming them after the actual deities is offensive #the loa (hazbin hotel)

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ixchel-sketch · 4 years

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TITLE: Palehuiloca / Ayudar

GENRE: Crime & Romance

FANDOM: Mayans M.C.

SHIP(S): Coco & Original Female Character

STATUS: Complete

LENGTH: 5,291 words

Set while Coco is still a prospect. One of his first orders is to help newly full patched members Angel and Gilly locate a corrupt drug dealer at a local music festival. He never expected to meet Maya.

It was early in the evening when the headlights of bikes cut through the light of the setting sun and three members of the local motorcycle club were waved into the festival without so much as a second glance from security. All manner of people were attending, most of them on their way towards inebriation in some form of another. Johnny “Coco” Cruz looked around at the various stages set up in the large canyon, the sounds of whatever concert was currently playing blasted through the state park. Competing for the attention of the crowds of people weaving their way from one set to another. A couple that looked to be barely out of their teens stumbled by and nearly bumped into Coco had he not been hyper focused on his surroundings.

“Jesus, would you look at this place.” Angel’s dark eyes followed after them, noting the way the couple wove and leaned on each other in support. To the average attendee they seemed to be in the depths of young love, laughing and showering displays of affection no matter how inappropriate. To anyone with experience it was obvious they were high off their asses.

“That’s why we’re here isn’t it? Marcus said that we needed to smoke out some dealer. “ Gilberto “Gilly” Lopez adjusted the thick leather vest that all three of them wore, squinting out at the crowd in observation.

“For selling on Mayan terf?”

Coco finally came back to the conversation, a little bit confused on why they would be put on something that seemed to have nothing to do with the club. As a prospect, there weren't many orders that he was in a position to question. It helped that he and Angel had roomed together right before he'd patched in. He trusted him, which was something he hadn't experienced much before.

"There's been an uptick in overdoses. Someones cutting their shit and it makes the M.C. look bad. Since most assume that's where it's coming from." Now it made sense. It would definitely hurt their business and possibly gain unwanted attention from authorities if the main take away from the music festival was the amount of narcan used.

But how the hell were they supposed to find that needle in this shitshow of a haystack? The longer they stood idly by the entrance the worse that he began to feel about this whole thing. There were only three of them there and too many unknowns. They had no idea how serious this guy was or if they had their own crew. Paranoia leeched some of the stoic strength that usually radiated from Coco. No, crowded and booming festivals were definitely not his thing.

"We should split up," Coco scowled at Gilly's suggestion but all of them nodded in agreement nonetheless. "Cover more ground that way. Look for anyone buying or dealing. "

Maya had been attending music festivals since before she knew how to talk. She’d grown up dressed in tie dye onesies and been lulled to sleep by the sound of amature drum circles. It was a lifestyle that she knew like the back of her hand and the road between each destination felt just as much home as the stops between. All she really needed in order to be happy was the RV that she’d inherited from her father and enough gas and savings to keep making her art in comfort. Not many people seemed to understand her need for near constant travel and freedom, much less stick around.

Today had been different though. Slow, and while the general guests were perfectly content with the food vendors and alcohol sales, not too many had stopped through her booth and made actual purchases. Only in the last hour had there been a wave of people walking around and buying different trinkets and goods that she’d made. The increase in sales usually took up all of her attention. Mental energy split between being conversational and likeable as a vendor and keeping an eye out to make sure no one lifted anything. She supposed that was another reason for not wanting to be tied down --- maintaining a fake sociable mask for longer than a couple hours at a time was down right exhausting. With a heavy sigh Maya got up from her chair and stretched as tall as she could. It wasn’t very tall.

Finally she noticed a man standing with his back to the corner of her booth and steeled herself to once again paste on a fake smile. It wasn’t unusual for a potential customer to spend time just staring at a piece… but with a hint of concern she realized that wasn’t what he was doing. Dark eyes were focused intensely out at the crowd and she tried not to flinch when that gaze was turned on her. “Hey, can I help you?”

“What? No, I’m uh- good thanks.” He didn’t look good, warm brown skin having taken on a slightly pallid complexion. The man looked spooked, bordering on shaken and even though she knew better than to reach out something on Maya’s face must have given away her confusion and he rushed to explain. “It was just really loud, I couldn’t even hear myself think.”

“ You want some water?” Before he could answer the brunette was ducking behind a table to grab a metal thermos that was still chilly from her ice run earlier. He accepted it and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from the way his adam apple moved when he took a drink or the stray bead of water that escaped the corner of Coco’s lips. Maya licked her own subtly and subconsciously before adding, “Yeah, festivals can be a lot. I lucked out this year and my booth got placed opposite of the concert field. Shitty for sales though.”

When he handed her back the thermos her fingers brushed against his, releasing butterflies in her stomach and Maya tried her best to brush it off. Coco seemed to finally notice the different posters and jewelry that decorated the tables and his eyebrows rose, fingers ghosting over the designs pressed into leather bracelets. “All this stuff is yours? You made it?”

She nods, a natural grin spreading across full lips. There were few things that she carried a fair amount of pride about, her art being one of them. “Claro que si, Well, except for the bones, those I get from hunters and collectors. Same for the crystals.”

His hand fell away and Coco nodded. Something about the way that he was looking at the merch had Maya relaxing a bit, casting a glance back towards where people were clearing the man made path that separated the music from the vendors to herd themselves into a new performance. There probably wouldn't be anyone else wandering through her booth for a few hours at least.

“ It’s really tight, the detail in the designs is crazy.”

“Thank you. My name’s Maya.” She expected the blink of confusion that followed.

“Sorry, what?”

“Just call me Maya.” Another nod and from the way that Coco’s shoulders sag just a bit she can tell he’s starting to relax too. Whether it's because of the compliment that he’d given her work or just a sudden craving for more substantial human interaction, Maya made up her mind and opened the canopy flap that led to where her RV was parked behind the booth. “I was planning on taking a little break -- para fumar. You wanna join me?”

Finally a genuine smile touches the other’s eyes as Coco replies “I’m always good for a smoke.”

She led Coco back to the small table pulled under the awning and sat down in a rusted lawn chair, motioning for him to do the same. It creaked under his weight and she couldn’t help but offer a slightly embarrassed smile while retrieving the glass jar from a leather satMaya hanging over her shoulder. The inside of the glass was so coated in crystals and weed dust that it was hard to make out the details of the small buds jostled within. “So is this your first festival in awhile?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Probably my first.”

“No shit?” Maya passed Coco the ornately blown glass piece she’d been gifted some time back. It was surprising to find how easy conversation was to have with him as the two began to talk about their interests. Music was the easiest shared denominator, with Maya’s tastes being basically anything that isn’t outright offensive or problematic. But slowly the two started to talk about more personal stuff as well. They came from vastly different backgrounds but somehow nothing seemed to get lost in translation, the time passed faster than either had realized and before she knew it the light was just starting to fade from the sky. Their shadows stretching out in the grass before them and tinting the campsite in a pretty orange.

“So you like to go it alone?” The conversation had circled back to her and Maya rolled her shoulders in a relaxed shrug.

“I’m still only twenty fuckin’ three. And I’m picky as hell, hanging around musicians all the time you know. I’m not just some fuckin’ groupie.”

Coco held up his hands and hissed as if he’d touched something hot, “I got you, my bad.”

She deflated and ran a hand through messy dark waves. As much as she loved the freedom, sometimes loneliness did creep into her life and forced Maya to examine what she really wanted… but she wouldn’t know how to settle down even if she tried. “No it’s on me. My shit. Sorry, dude.”

He nodded, accepting the apology for her snappy response before his cell phone went off and drew Coco’s attention away from the company. With a sinking feeling he realized he’d missed out on the reason they were originally there. All he could do was hope that Angel or Gilly had found something to take back to El Padrino. “Yeah? I’ll be there.”

Maya waited a moment before speaking up, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice. “Those the guys you’re here with? Tus hermanos?”

Coco stood up and fixed the lawn chair, which had sagged so that the seat of it was brushing the ground. She moved to follow him and he offered her a hand to help Maya to her feet. They stood close for a moment while she regained her balance, so close she could smell him and it caused the hair to rise on the back of her neck and heat to coil in her stomach. Shit. Taking a step back, she brushed off her clothes and tried to meet his eyes when Coco replied; “Yeah , sort of. Better than any family I was born with. Even all that shit they say about brothers in arms in the military ain’t nothin like what the M.C. is.”

Dark brows furrowed and Maya pieced together what he meant, not having much experience with bikers outside of slightly unpleasant gas station exchanges. “So you’re here with guys who are also in your...motorcycle club?”

That seemed to make Coco laugh and shake his head while grabbing a cigarette from the box in his vest pocket. Before he could fumble around for his lighter she managed to fish hers out of her pocket, holding it out to him. “Yeah,” He took a drag and made sure to blow it away from where she stood. “We’re actually here trying to pick up. I don’t know if you use anything harder..”

A deep frown creased her face and she gave Coco a subtle once over, as though potentially seeing him in a different light. “Oh...No I uhm, I don’t. That shit’s gotten kind of dangerous.”

He looks equally relieved and she can’t help but be a bit confused. “Good, I mean, I don’t neither. Not like that.”

Coco’s done his share of hard partying and drugs, been addicted and managed to come to terms with his limits. Something in the way that he holds himself lets Maya know that she can believe him, that he’s not just back peddling in order to save face. She nods and goes to untie the opening of her booth to let people know she’s once again open for business --- and to allow Coco to exit into the main crowd.

“Because I’ve seen some people be taken off the grounds for OD’s...it’s depressing shit.” Mostly it was just people who attended but every once and awhile a musician or vendor would end up getting an ambulance called. It was always sad, especially if it was someone that she’d see at a few different venues and become somewhat friendly with.

“See that’s why we’re trying to find the guy selling this shit... stop it from getting into the community.”

Her expression changed to one of surprise before a full bottom lip slipped between her teeth in mild indecision. She was sick of seeing people taken advantage of in her community, at least Coco’s gang was doing something about it. “...I could help, maybe? Talk to the other vendors and see if they’ve seen anything. Are you guys camping out or are you coming back tomorrow?”

She hoped that they were, handing Coco one of the cards that she kept on display so that he might be able to get in contact with her again. Dark eyes tracked the motion of him slipping it into his pocket, her own hands fumbling awkwardly. Coco’s phone buzzed again and she could tell from his reaction it was probably his guys asking where he was.

“We’ll be back. I’ll hit you up.”

He returned to where their bikes were being looked after with a much lighter heart, both from the conversation and finding a potential lead. Gilly was tempted to stay a bit longer and as much as Coco wanted to agree it was obvious to both him and Angel that had much more to do with the actual festival than the club’s interests. Angel was disappointed in the lack of concrete evidence and it showed in his scowl and furrowed brow.

“Damn man. Everyone’s high but it just seems like a bunch of fuckin hippies.” He grumbled, looking either Coco or Gilly in the hopes that they found something of more use.

“I saw someone get carried out but it could have been heat stroke. No one else around.”

Angel turned to Coco, “ What about you? Any luck?”

In no rush to admit that he’d wasted most of his time blowing off their orders to talk to some chick, he kept his answer clipped. “Yeah...maybe.”

The internal conflict caused him to stiffen when Angel’s hand landed on his shoulder in camaraderie. But the other Mayan only seemed encouraged by Coco’s admission, wrinkling his nose before stepping back to mount his ride. “Shit, you smell like skunk.”

The night went by uneventfully despite Maya’s best attempts to find any of her connections that might have an idea what was going on or who was dealing. None of her artisan contacts had any interest in exploring those kinds of narcotics and had a similar reaction to the one that she had earlier. Only after explaining why she was looking for the illicit substance did their judgement lessen. Eventually, after making sure to put the word out that she was interested in trying something different (as a ruse to lure out the dealer) Maya was forced to give up and go to sleep with the hopes that the next day would bring better luck.

And whether it was her own self manifestation or the will of the gods, after spending most of the next day with her attention split between selling her goods and looking out for any nefarious activity her first lead appeared. Half way through the day someone was taken from the medic tent looking half dead but no one seemed to know much about it. Coco messaged her, checking in to see if she had found anything. All of the texts were very...Friendly. They joked back and forth just as much as talking (if not more) than about what was happening at the festival. By the time she did hear back from one of her contacts -- a time and place to meet the person who was selling smack, Maya was too excited about having a legitimate reason to see Coco again than to think through all of the potential consequences of going to the meet.

With her booth closed up and cellphone slipped into the back of her pocket, Maya headed to the spot in the back of the general campsite. It wasn’t too far from her where she was vending but definitely far enough from the security spots and exits to be inconspicuous. The man waiting for her was tall and spindly, the dark cliche hoodie he wore nearly hung off of him with how loose it was. His greeting smile felt lewd, red rimmed eyes focusing on the naked skin of her legs for far longer than she was comfortable with. A sinking feeling started to build in her gut but Maya decided to ignore it.

“So I heard you were looking to pick up ?”

She froze, a small frown working its way onto her face. Even when she wanted so hard to play it cool.“Well, not me, my friend was interested…”

“And where’s your friend?”

The tone of his voice made the hair rise on the back of her neck and Maya looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby. The sound of music playing could be heard even from the distance of the campground and she knew better than to hope there would be anyone loitering there instead of watching a band. “He’s meeting up with me later.”

“Your boyfriend?” The man took a step forward, reaching out to pick up a strand of her long dark hair. At this distance she could make out the details of his pockmarked cheeks and nearly gasped at the memory of his face disappearing into the crowd after the EMT’s had taken away the person hours earlier. Maya’s heart started to race and muscles froze into place with the rise of panic. It was a challenge to take the answering step back, only to find that there was a tent flush behind her back.

“No, just a friend. So can I uhm, can I get the stuff?” Her anxiety to leave was building but Maya didn’t want to take off without at least getting some proof to show Coco that she had found the guy.

“Of course baby, why? You in a hurry?” She watched as his hand made contact with her arm, the other one going to grab her hip almost forcefully to try and drag Maya closer. The grip should have been strong enough to bruise but she couldn’t feel anything beyond the shock. Her dark eyes go wide and it takes a few quick breaths to work past the fear.

“Yeah actually I just need to… can you-- Hey!”

The sun had already set by the time that the Mayans rolled back up to the festival. Coco once again had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach though this time it was for a different reason than being triggered by the crowd. He’d been texting Maya most of the day but in the last hour she had stopped without warning. And when they got to her booth it was closed up and deserted, most of the vendors having shut down by then. Gilly gave a look around before sending Coco a sympathetic shrug. “You sure she was supposed to meet you here bro?”

“It looks pretty empty.” Angel agreed.

“Yeah man this is her spot.” He didn’t like this feeling at all. Like a coil of stress winding tighter and tighter at his core, a rubber band stretched to the breaking point. What he wouldn’t give for it to just be his fucked up mind playing tricks on him again. Just when he was about to finally dismiss it a feminine shout echoed through the space. “ Shit!”

Maya had her eyes pressed tightly closed as the heat of the stranger pressed against her caused sickening chills. Her heart raced so loud that anything that was coming out of his mouth was lost to the rushing noise in her ears. A spell or curse that was caused by paralyzing panic and only when his hand moved from her back to ghost over the curve of Maya’s ass did it break enough for her to scream.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ASSHOLE!” Her arms came up to push him away, gasping in surprise when at the same time someone grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him back. The motion was too quick, but the line of Coco’s back could be seen as he pinned the dealer to the ground and laid blow after blow to the man’s face. After a few minutes Angel pulled him off, pushing Coco away so that he could catch his breath and pull himself together after unleashing all that rage.

Maya jumped when she realized there was someone standing behind her with their hand on her shoulder, large dark eyes looking up at Gilly and he released her and took a step back to give the shaken woman some space. “You good? “

Her answering nod was a little too quick to be believable but no one called her out on it. “ Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“Is this the guy?” Angel nodded towards the bloody heap on man on the ground, still standing between him and Coco though Gilly moved closer to help lift the suspect.

“I don’t know, I know he sells. And he was hanging around someone who OD’d earlier.”

Their expressions went tight and she received a nod, Coco finally walking back over to them and muttering something in Angel’s direction. “ We’ll talk to him.”

While Angel and Gilly dragged the unconscious man back towards their bikes, Maya turned her attention back to Coco, finally noting the way his lips had pulled down into a sour scowl. She had a feeling that a large part of it had to do with her and a knot of guilt formed in her stomach. He started to turn back towards the exit of the festival, about to leave without saying a word and before she realized it Maya was reaching out to gently wrap her hand around his bicep. “ Do you wanna come back to my RV? Get a drink?”

He looked at her hand for a long minute, still not able to meet her eyes even after she let go. “...Okay, sure.”

Neither of them spoke on the way back to where her RV was parked. The tension was nearly palpable and she pulled out a beer from the cooler typically reserved for guests and passed it to Coco. Her eyes lingered on how his fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle, knuckles red and bruised from impact. While he opened it she went about unlocking the 1990 Winnebago so that they might be able to talk with some semblance of privacy. The comfort of her mobile home was a soothing balm against all of the excitement and chaos she’d been involved in. Maya deftly opened some cabinets and removed a half finished bottle of tequila and dusty shot glass.

“You know what you did earlier? Was pretty stupid.”

When she looks up from preparing her drink Coco is staring at her intently. “...Excuse me?”

The incredulity in her voice sets him off and Coco pushes away from where he’d been leaning against the narrow counter to loom over her. Now she can tell that she’d seriously misunderstood something earlier as he looks...actually angry. The bottle is forgotten behind him and his chin raises, a defensive posture if she’d ever seen one. “That guy could have pulled a knife, or a gun. Then what?”

She hadn’t thought about if that had happened, but she had a feeling saying that out loud wouldn’t help her case. In an attempt at levity, Maya forced a smirk and tilted her head in faux innocence. “Get shot, I guess?”

It doesn’t help. His brows draw together and his tone raises which causes her to reel back. It only now occurs to her that she doesn’t actually know him that well or what he’s capable of in anger. “What the fuck kind of thinking is that? Eres una pinche idiota?”

Maya’s gaze drops to the floor and her shoulders sag in defeat. She can tell that the reaction is one out of concern for her wellbeing but she doesn’t have a clue on how to fix things. With a heavy sigh she rubs a hand across her face. “I just wanted to help,” Coco continues to look at her, and his expression softens just a bit in acceptance. “ ...You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

Coco is still standing close enough that if she were to lean forward it wouldn’t take much effort at all to place a kiss on his chin. The thought taunting her almost as much as the way that his voice dips an octave and ridiculously long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. “ Next time just call me, yeah?”

A hopeful smile pulls at full lips and she rocks forward on her heels so that their chests are nearly touching. “Next time?”

“That’s not what I ...shit, I just mean,” His eyes are locked on her lips and the atmosphere of the confined space in the RV has changed with their mood. The air is heavy and she closes the distance between them in an obvious invitation, one of her hands splaying flat on his chest where the patch meets the leather of his vest. Coco’s eyes grow even darker if possible.

“It’s cool. I got you.” There are no expectations as he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls Maya into a hungry kiss. It’s not soft or gentle and she matches his pace eagerly. The hand on his chest snakes around to stroke over the hair at the base of his neck and one of his rakes up the tank top she’s wearing in order to cup her breast. His other arm is pulling her closer still, passion completely unleashed and Maya is forced to break away in a gasp of pleasure when Coco’s leg parted hers and pressed the lines of their bodies against one another until she could feel the tent forming against her hip.

In an act of rare dexterity she managed to turn them so that her back is facing the hallway. It’s far too great a sacrifice to pull away from him or the way that Coco is running his hands along her body. He follows her until the back of her knees press against the mattress and helps to lower her down, wet kisses trailing from her mouth to the column of her throat.

His touch lights her nerves on fire and Maya sighs into the kiss, opening her mouth so that he can take advantage and wind his tongue against hers. Once the heavy leather vest is dropped on the corner of the bed she removes her shirt and pulls Coco back down on top of her. His hands roam and grope her torso while the warm weight of his hips pin her down and roll against her. “Que quieres?”

“Don’t st…keep going.” It’s all the encouragement that he seems to need before Coco is slipping her jean shorts and underwear off her legs and placing nips and kisses along Maya’s hips. It’s a quick tease before her returns to place a kiss on her swollen lips. The fabric of his button up shirt rubs against her chest and she manages to slide her hands beneath it and the thin wife beater under that. They're both in too much of a hurry to really focus on removing each other’s clothes entirely. It’s a \victory just to be able to get a few of the small buttons undone as Coco unfastens his belt to slide his pants down his hips.

“Oh...fuck.” The unbidden whine slips from Maya when he presses two fingers inside of her, whispering a compliment into her ear before replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. It’s been awhile since she’s been with another person, and when he thrusts his entire length in with one quick motion she can’t help but lock her legs around his waist to hold him in place. Coco senses her tense and takes a couple of deep breaths, panting against her shoulder before placing kisses on her chest.

“Relax, mi cariña.” Coco groaned, gripping her ass and pressing Maya closer. He waited until she moaned and rolled her hips against his before picking up the pace of his movements. Once they find a rhythm it doesn’t take long before Maya is coming undone. She cries out in pleasure and tenses around Coco, arms tightly wound around his neck and face pressed against his shoulder. Just a couple of uneven thrusts later and he’s following close behind, groaning and rolling off of Maya so that he’s facing her on the mattress. They both have to catch their breath and she savors the look of pure relaxation on Coco’s face. The lines of stress fall away and he looks years younger.

Maya wants nothing more than to reach out and brush some of the dark hair off of his forehead, but when she does she’s pinned with that same intense stare from earlier as he flinched away from her hand. The connection that was there between them suddenly feels dulled. Coco rolled onto his back, staring up silently at the roof of the RV.

“So… you said something about next time.” She had a sudden sinking feeling in her gut and joined in the direction of his gaze. It was dark out now and the small amount of daylight had charged the old glow in the dark star stickers so that they set off a subtle glow. The longer she looked, the easier it was to pick them out against the faded roof material and ignore the embarrassed burning of her cheeks.

Coco sat up and fixed himself into his pants. From the angle she was at it was nearly impossible to tell exactly what his expression was. “...Yeah. I’ll give you a call.”

That certainly didn’t sound reassuring.

“Right.” Maya’s tone turned flat and cold, earning a glance from the other before she followed suit and sat up to pull her discarded tank top back over her head. Her shorts had been shoved off of the bed in their earlier activities however her underwear lay crumpled near by and she slipped them on to put off meeting his eyes. “Well, I’m only going to be in the area for another couple of days then I do a show up north. If I hear from you it’s cool but if not...it is what it is.”

The warmth of his palm spreads over her cheek and Coco pulls her up so that he can place a gentle kiss on her lips, far softer than she ever would have expected. “ Hey, querida… I’ll call. I got you.”

A soft smile spreads across her face as he slings his kutte over one arm and she pulls him back for one final kiss, happy to get to know him and already excited for the next time they would see each other.

“Ride safe.”

#mayans fanfic #mayans smut #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz

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crystalelemental · 4 years

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princess-of-crepes replied to your post “princess-of-crepes replied to your post “If you would have to rank...”

Yeah, they're definitely dumbing down the newer games. Again, I haven't played Sword and Shield yet, but I haven't heard great things about it either. But wow you can't turn EXP shares off? That's a yikes from me. They're literally spoon feeding you levels it seems. Not that Gen 7 was much better in that regard. I feel like many people will disagree with me on this, but I wasn't a fan of the trials. With a standard team that covers all your bases, you could easily get through all of them. What made Gen 7 stand out, as you said, was the story, but more than that, the characters I would say. Gen 6 sort of missed the mark there. It had potential, but it took itself too seriously without having anything to back up that severity. Gen 6 definitely is when the games became noticeably dumbed down. I think Gen 5 had a pretty good level/exp/difficulty scaling, and then Gen 6 just started feeding you EXP like crazy

Gen 4 was definitely a sweet spot though. HG/SS gives you such an expansive world to play with and so many characters + so much lore, it's hard not to love it. And Diamond/Pearl/Platinum is honestly peak at scaling imo. When you get to Cynthia, your team should realistically be able to take her on with some strategizing, but man, she is FAR from easy.

There’s much again. I talk a lot.

I don’t even know if it’s necessarily dumbing down, since it’s still operating on the same fundamental principles that can make any game easy if you know what to do. I think it’s more an issue of overly simplified. Because all wild Pokemon are around your level, you never have to train. Because the sharp level spike happens in rapid succession with no time to train, you quickly level from rare candies and the EXP candies you stockpiled. The game takes significantly shorter time to beat, but offers less in the way of a developed challenge for most gym battles, and just...isn’t very engaging.

I really hate the trials, I think they’re way worse than gyms in every way. Less interesting in concept, obnoxious boss battles that are less hard and more annoying, because the captains aren’t actually involved in anything regarding battle they’re ultimately really forgettable. Gen 7 did one thing right, and only one thing, and that was its story surrounding Lillie’s family. Also Ultra Beasts, because damn are those cool.

I think the reason everything since Gen 6 has been a significant downgrade is honestly graphics. I think a lot of issues in video games, particularly as it related to deadlines and the cutting of corners, comes down to how rapidly graphics advanced, and the demand for ever more “realistic” portrayals. When you have a game like Pokemon, that has all these models, it’s going to take forever, and a lot of the team’s time and resources go into developing the look. As a result, there’s no time for crafting a strong story. There’s no time to make interesting battle facilities in ORAS. There’s no time to make a bunch of new Pokemon to add; that’s more about deadlines and constraints of resources than lack of creativity. There’s no time to craft personalities, or edit the script, so you have a lot of superfluous and unnecessary dialogue. It’s why Gen 6 feels so immensely rough, while Gen 7 felt pretty strong in some areas: the models were already done and carried over. Gen 8 feels like a massive regression because for some reason, I think the models were redone again? Like it’s honestly gotten hard to tell exactly what went wrong with this generation with all the rumors that surrounded it. But production of better graphics means less time to focus on the actual content. It’s why indie games make such a huge impact when one gets the right formula: they put little into graphics, and were able to better flesh out literally everything else. And guess what. Sprites and shit? Still look amazing! Like, if someone went back to early Final Fantasy, in terms of visual presentation, while not looking spectacular, they’d still hold up. Going back to FF7 though? Good lord does that look awful now. Sprites work out, and we never should’ve transitioned to 3D models just because that was the gimmick of the console. Had they stuck with sprites, I honestly feel the Pokemon games would’ve gone in a completely different trajectory than modern day.

Gen 4 is, in my mind at least, the perfect generation. They added just the right amount of stuff in HGSS to make leveling not as much of a chore as the original Gen 2 games. DPP was absolutely amazing, especially Platinum, and Cynthia is by far the most intense Champion battle the series has produced. She routinely kicks my ass on my first visit to the league. Also she’s just the absolutely coolest in design and personality and everything. It’s just...I think even more than the scaling, it’s the sense of challenge. Because you can get to the gyms at the same level, or even a bit over, and they’re still tough. Roark has a Cranidos that’s just fast enough to beat an unevolved starter to the attack, and enough offensive presence to beat the Grass and Water checks you might bring. Rock checks you bring also have to fear Pursuit, and need a Ground move to handle his own. Or Gardenia, who has Leech Seed on Cherrim to get around the Bronzor you may have brought along, while Roserade is so overwhelmingly strong that Flying-type answers can get run over. Every gym leader in Platinum goes in with a game plan, and as a result, it’s really hard to just walk in with type advantage at the same level and sweep. The same can’t really be said for modern games, because you have shit like every Gigantamax Pokemon knowing status moves, despite those doing nothing in Gigantamax form. Or Opal’s Weezing having Fairy Wind and Sludge despite being able to learn much stronger attacks by that point. They play softball with you so much in modern games, and I honestly kinda miss when the game’s ultimate goal was to completely dunk on you if you weren’t prepared to try. Though man, a friend of mine recently brought up that Black/White 2 was the best at that, solely because Iris had a Focus Sash on Haxorus. In terms of taking the player seriously and aiming to completely ruin your life, nothing beat having a Dragon Dance Haxorus with a goddamn Focus Sash. Those were the days...

#princess-of-crepes #pokemon

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twiststreet · 4 years

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Favorite 10 Movies 2019-- Didn’t see the Irishman, the Farewell, Little Women or the San Francisco movie; didn’t think that Marriage Story movie would be on my list anyways but didn’t see that one either (though I always end up liking those Baumbach movies...); or the movie in that Dave Ehrlich video that I’d never heard of that I’m curious about is the Souvenir-- that sounded interesting:

1. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

The only movie I wanted to see twice in a theater. I like where I live, and that movie just showed off a bunch of it in a really romantic way. Just the long sigh of that movie, or just how many movie pleasures it has to it-- Brad Pitt just driving, and that’s enough cause he’s a fucking movie star. And just a thorny movie-- not a movie I’d want to “defend” necessarily, sure, I’m more sympathetic to the “I wish it didn’t all have to change” at the heart of the movie than maybe I want to be, I don’t know if that’s the healthiest shit. I liked thinking about it, good and bad.

I didn’t like the conversation around it at first, all the clickbait, but I liked how once you got past that, it did feel like a movie people could enjoy arguing about-- that was the New York Times thing this year, how all these movies felt worth arguing about for a change. I think it’s been a pretty great year in movies-- I liked more than 10 movies, anyways, and the ones I didn’t like, like something like Hustlers, I get that someone else could be super-into it and make a case for it and... Or I had no interest in Joker but seeing people argue about it after it came out (instead of before)... I mean, I want movies to be that-- something people give a shit about...

2. Uncut Gems

I’ve met a bunch of guys like this, so I don’t even know how to talk about this one, except just “Yeah, I’ve met that fucking guy.” I enjoyed it as like a family album of people I’ve met in the last 10 years. I guess it’s not a huge hit with mainstream audiences or I’ve seen people online who are like “I don’t get it,” and that’s fine, whatever, but when people are talking like, oh I haven’t met someone like that (or like Sandler’s just a gambling addict)... I just don’t know what to even say about that... Plus, a lot of faces in that movie.

3. Andadhun

This Indian suspense movie was really fun for me the way Breaking Bad or something like that was fun. It’s pretty surprising it didn’t catch on more. It’s silly the way one of those shows is silly, and it’s got one or two twists too many, but I just think if you can go along with the premise, this was just a real fun time. Just a fun suspense movie.

4. Cold Pursuit

Oh fuck, I just think it’s the comedy of the year. It just threw so many fucking people because if you go and look at reviews, a bunch of reviewers are like “this Liam Neeson movie is his strangest revenge movie yet.” And they don’t pick up on the fact that they made an extremely straight-faced parody of Liam Neeson revenge movies... starring Liam Neeson. There’s a scene where Liam Neeson’s beating the hell out of somebody and he’s screaming “Where can I find Santa?” Because the guy he has to kill is named Santa for no reason?? Or there’s a scene where an angry Asian woman makes Liam Neeson awkwardly sit there and watch her make out with her husband. And it just builds to this finale that... I can’t even imagine being in an opening night theater for the final scene of this movie. Like that first audience watching this and thinking they’d be getting a normal Liam Neeson movie and then getting a movie with an ending that this movie has, or a scene where Liam Neeson gives a speech at the beginning because he’s, like, the Snow Plow Man of the Year or ... I don’t even know.

I know it didn’t work for a lot of people because it’s so straight-faced and so deadpan and maybe indistinguishable from an actual Liam Neeson movie in a lot of ways, but I just laughed and laughed watching it... And I think that was intentional... I think...???

5. Dolemite is My Name

Eddie being entertaining for the first time in a long time. I mean, Bowfinger was ... 20 years ago? More? And Bowfinger was his comeback movie when it came out. Bowfinger was “Eddie’s still got it” after some of those family movies. A++ Wesley Snipes; just a nice, entertaining “root for the underdog” movie. I wanted to show it to my nephews but there’s a bunch of like sex and swearing and dirty jokes that make it pretty inappropriate for kids, but in my head, that movie’s like a Karate Kid or something like that, just a great scrappy-losers-win movie. When was the last one of those that landed? There are so many kinds of movies that just work and I don’t know why they have such a hard time making them...

6. High Flying Bird

I didn’t see anyone really mention this on any top 10 lists, but I really dug seeing Soderbergh and his iPhone just making something as Soderbergh-y as this one. Where it’s just... guys in a room talking obliquely about money. There’s some hokey shit at the end, a couple notes I wasn’t into (the girl reading the book beat), but I just remember really digging just watching people talk in this one, especially when he’s just letting Andre Holland rip... I don’t know why it didn’t connect more with other people. It’s Soderbergh just really, really doing a “Soderbergh movie”... I don’t know it that’s lost its cache with critics, but I’m still into that...

7. The Lighthouse

Not a great story movie, but just seeing two of the better/best? actors (Dafoe’s pretty great) just get handed all the rope you’d ever want to see them get handed to just go nuts and scream crazy shit at each other...? There’s a ton of stupid reasons to make a movie, but that’s not one of them. I didn’t think much of the story, and I’m not into the director, but that’s one of the biggest “who gives a shit if everything else in that movie sucks shit” things I can imagine. It’s got Dafoe and Pattinson screaming at each other about fucking Poseidon or whatever the fuck for 2 hours. Why the fuck wouldn’t you want to see that??

8. Midsommar

I want to fuck like the Swedish fuck, it turns out.

9. Parasite

I didn’t really like this movie in the hours after it was done, but you know, fuck, I gotta admit, it’s pretty fucking good. I’m not into the director. But the execution of this is just pretty strong, just thinking about the whole of it afterwards-- acting or production design especially or some of the choices they made in term of ... not overselling the poor characters as being especially noble in a way that’d be phony. (Though I just don’t share some of that movie’s thematic ideas about... there’s a couple parts that are supposed to be “profound” that I just don’t find agreeable or that I’m not sympathetic to, as just a crabby fuck). Or it was a movie I was pretty impressed by up until the ending, where I really didn’t love that last 10 minutes or so, is the thing, where the movie had shifted genres and tones so much that I don’t think i was where the movie wanted to situate me or where the rest of the audience was situated (i.e. I might have been the problem there. Or there are things about it generally I’m not into-- some of the shorthand on why we’re supposed to judge the rich family I don’t know about. I just had little weird issues with it or things that when it was over, I was frustrated with. Or I just...

It’s just one I didn’t like as much as other people did, but I gotta give it up that I’m not saying I’m especially right to not feel more strongly about it, because I can see the merits and I can see why it’s good and I don’t disagree with any of that, either. Or it’s... the design of the movie is just... It’s just a well designed movie, physically, writing-wise, just... It feels like things are in the right place with that movie, even if I had my reactions to it... i don’t know-- sometimes things are good and I’m not into them anyways, and I gotta chalk this one up as one of those, but like... This is one that I did keep thinking about afterwards and have to eventually just go “yeah, my initial reaction on that one was wrong”...

10. Knives Out.

Nothing to really talk about. I just like mysteries.

Other Movies I Liked This Year, as Someone Who Didn’t See a Lot of the more Acclaimed Movies: Crawl (not one of my favorite movies of the year, but you could tell they really beat the living shit out of that actress filming that movie and by the end that alone kind of made me impressed with it), In the Tall Grass (bad movie but GRASS, just a bad movie with more grass in it than I ever dared to dream could be in a movie, grass, grass, grass), Good Boys, Ready or Not (dopey movie, but I had a great audience for that one-- they were cheering and shit), Murder Mystery, John Wick Chapter 3, Always be My Maybe, Plus One, maybe SOME of Under the Silver Lake but not all of Under the Silver Lake (not the parts where it was trying to be about men and women which I had issues with and felt were unearned, but huge yes to the scenes of Spiderman beating the shit out of little kids), Prospect, Six Underground (particularly the opening scene and Bay trash talking Edgar Wright-- I enjoy Bay just being a competitive asshole), and the Netflix Fyre Festival documentary (specifically the blowjob guy).

Honorary Mention: the McConnaughey-Hathaway Serenity. I saw that in a theater, after I heard it was a car crash, and it was a CAR CRASH. There were movie stars in that movie! There were actual movie stars who read that script and were like “alright alright alright” when they signed contracts to star in that movie. Anne Hathaway was like “Do I get to say Daddy in every single scene, a couple times a scene? Just point to me to wardrobe.” Memorable. Memorable. I don’t think it’d work outside of a theater, and just that experience of... of being like “oh my god they got this a theatrical release.” My regret is not seeing it opening weekend.

Worst Movie that wasn’t Star Wars 3: the worst movie this year was Star Wars 3, that was the one where I was just constantly looking around at other people in the theater with my jaw open like “Are you seeing this? Are you fucking seeing what they’ve made here? The dagger has a fucking protractor in it? Are you fucking seeing this??” A movie that made the prequels seem better, and the other movies in its trilogy somehow strongly worse.

At some point I really felt like I was just exclusively watching Wrong Moves, except for Adam Driver who I thought came out of it kind of unblemished by the thing...

But setting that aside, my worst movie was Ad Astra, where I just hated the story and all the themes and the performances and really how little they used Brad Pitt and what Brad Pitt can bring to a movie and just ... Everything it had to say. I just felt a lot of hatred towards it. I was calling Ad Astra a Star Wars for men who hate their dicks, but then Star Wars came out and was worse, so I don’t know if that works anymore. Or because I don’t know who Star Wars is for anymore-- Star Wars is just a thing angry shitheads fight about now online. Have you seen people fighting one way or another for this movie? Embarrassing! It feels embarrassing to have opinions about that movie. How did Star Wars get even more embarrassing than it was before that trilogy started???

But yeah, Ad Astra-- I thought it was woke nonsense, with a bunch of psuedo-profundity and third-rate “men: be better” posturing tacked onto a super-hollow core and an absolute shit story; not redeemed for me by its (for me) overrated visuals. I think all the critics who were counting how many lines women had in Tarantino movies went and blew a lot of hot air up this movie’s ass cause they wanted to celebrate a rambling monologue with fourth-rate 2013-Tumblr “men: be better” cliches as a “critique of toxic masculinity” and signal that as professional film critics, they get that all men everywhere are bad, they’re one of the good ones; but when I think about toxic masculinity, “Oh no what if astronauts were awesome at their jobs” isn’t keeping me up at night... The movie’s conception of what toxic masculinity is and why it’s bad were incredibly fucking stupid to me. I just thought that movie was fuck-stupid. I already look at the dumbest shit on Tumblr all the time-- I don’t need Brad Pitt turning that shit into a Matthew McConnaughey Lincoln car commercial...

#year in review

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moonvalecrossing · 4 years

Note

Now that you got the Gym Leaders and such out of the way, how about one for the Elite Four members (Champions will not count since only, like, 3 of them have a specialized type)? Since only 8 out of the 14 types used have more than one E4 member, this means that Koga, Aaron, Bertha, Siebold, Olivia, and Kahili literally have no competition. :P (Also, I do know that you're not really fond of either Fire-type Elite Four, so for favorite, I guess you gotta choose the one you dislike less)

LETS GO. For types with only one elite four representative, I’m gonna talk about why I like or dislike them.

Normal Type- There isn’t one. MOVING ON.

Fighting Type- Least Favorite: Bruno is terrifying. In Generations he’s just muscles on muscles on muscles. And I saw an image of him from Lets Go games and good lord that man has demon eyes.

Fighting Type- Most Favorite: Marshal. Sure he’s the only other one but I do genuinely like his design. Even if his eyebrows are out there. He wears a mouth guard to protect his teeth! Man’s smart.

Flying Type- I like Kahili. Her design is cute. And I absolutely love how the flying type fits her as a golfer! I just wish she hadn’t come out of nowhere.

Poison Type- It’s just Koga and I’ve talked about him already. :P

Ground Type- Bertha’s the only one. I really love this sweet looking old lady. She’s totally Agatha’s twin sister or cousin and no one can convince me otherwise.

Rock Type- There’s only Olivia. While I love the idea of a strong rock type leader woman, I hate the character on a design and character basis. Sexy, barely anything wearing single woman. Not to mention all the robotic stufful in her house being popular among single women. Because IF A HOT CHICK IS SINGLE WE MUST MAKE SURE ITS KNOWN. Women are distinctly tied to a man in their life, don’t you know. And stop pointing her ass at us in the game, Game Freak. Its freaking gross. Especially considering its not just her butt pointed at us and they’ve arched her back in such a way for it to bring to mind.. things. Doesn’t help that she’s another female character who’s wearing ‘pants’ that are about as useful as boxer style panties and might as well just be that.

Bug Type- Shout out to Aaron for being unexpected on my part. Of all the types I could see in the elite four, Bug Type is not one of them. Precious bug boy.

Ghost Type- Least Favorite: (ITS ACEROLA. SHE COUNTS!) Okay fine I’ll pic someone else. We’ll go with Shauntal. For whatever reason her color scheme just does not work for me. Its too bland. I feel like a long dress would have looked nicer on her. Also that freaking.. whatever around her neck. Its supposed to look like a cat but.. why? Why though? Why not just give her a weird ass poofy neck thing with a clasp that looks like a duskull’s head or something since she’s a ghost type trainer? I mean I know the answer. They want her to be totes kawaii ghosty spooky girl. That’s why she’s got a short girlish dress instead of a cool long dress. Her being a writer’s cute though.

Ghost Type- Most Favorite: Sassy attitude grandma Agatha is best ghost trainer. I want to see her in a game again. That ISN’T a remake. YOU BETTER NOT HAVE KILLED HER OFF, GAMEFREAK. If freaking Oak gets to keep kicking, his rival better freaking get to as well. She’s in pokemon masters and that’s cool. But she looks like they have her a youth lift so she’s not TOO OLD LOOKING.

Steel Type- Least Favorite: Twig Legs Molayne. I was happy so see him in there though.

Steel Type- Most Favorite: Wikstrom is a knight. That is funny. His face reminds me of Steiner from Final Fantasy IX.

Fire Type- Least Favorite: Ronald McDonald I mean Flint. Yeah. Flint McDonald. Because I hate clowns.

Fire Type- Most Favorite: I might dislike Malva for being a member of the evil team and not getting removed from her position but I do like her design much more than basically anyone else in Team Flare.

Water Type- I love Siebold. He looks like a grumpy chef and I can picture him as the Gordon Ramsay of the pokemon world. He’s also cute.

Grass Type- There isn’t one~

Electric Type- There isn’t one here either~

Psychic Type- Least Favorite: CAITLIN. Sleepy spoiled little rich girl who went from having her butler do all her battles for her because she couldn’t control her emotions and psychic powers and then somehow becomes an ELITE FOUR MEMBER? Shit I’d accept her as a gym leader first but not basically one of the five most powerful trainers in a region. At least she seems like less of a sleepy rich bitch in Black2White2. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s a sleepy brat in Masters again though. Also I want to cut her hair because god damn is that unnatural.

Psychic Type- Most Favorite: Lucian and Will are basically the same person in my eyes and neither of them are Caitlin, so props to both of them.

Ice Type- Least Favorite: Lorelei. Because she’s an ice queen in personality and the booby character in design. Also in Fire Red/Leaf Green she collects pokedolls because we gotta make sure to have something kawaii girly for our titty character. But it has to be a SECRET because people knowing her dark dark secret of collecting cute dolls as a smart adult calculated ice queen would probably leave her embarrassed and venerable and ugh sometimes I hate Japanese characters. ALSO, SHE GOT TIDDIES MAKE SURE YOU NOTICE HOW MASSIVE THEM THINGS ARE. Anime sure won’t let you forget it. Also put on some clothes suited to the cold. Jeez.

Ice Type- Most Favorite: I love Glacia’s design. Especially since it doesn’t look like she’s be too cold in an ice filled battle room. She has that older dignified woman thing going for her. My brain wants to give her more of a southern belle accent.

Dragon Type- Least Favorite: I’m putting Lance here only because I have to have a least favorite. I love Lance.

Dragon Type- Most Favorite: Drake looks like a crazy old man who spent years at sea hunting down that giant Dragonite Bill saw in the anime as his white whale. Hot Grandpa Energy. This is a man you respect. Those eyes are scary intimidating.

Dark Type- Least Favorite: Karen, because I have to pick someone as least favorite. I love Karen.

Dark Type- Most Favorite: Sidney is cute and has a very friendly personality that I like a lot. He totally feels like the type who’d see a little girl crying because she didn’t win the cute prize at a carnival and would win it for her. Also, unlike Grimsley, SIDNEY KNOWS HOW TO WEAR SOCKS WITH DRESS SHOES. God damnit, Grimsley what is wrong with you.

Fairy Type- There isn’t one. I hope next gen has one!

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makorays · 6 years

Text

Thael

[i decided to write an off-screen interaction between my two characters in the savage worlds campaign my friends and i are playing, figured i might as well post it here since i’ve already posted art of them. some parts might be slightly confusing without context but i think you can get a general grasp of things.

also, apologies if any of this contradicts what is meant to be canon scellor lore; we’re kinda just using what we know of the scellor race and filling in the blanks based on what works best for our particular story.

here’s a good song to listen to while reading, if you want: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNJ6LO1QIyk ]

In the science lab, an oddly short Orthe and an oddly tall Ulkam engage in telepathic conversation. Minyaxl: You know, Thael, I just realized I've never really run into you anywhere other than the lab. What do you do in your off time? Thael: uh...i don't really have off time M: Wait, what? What the hell kind of slave-driving operation is this? T: no, i mean, i'm allowed to have it but i don't really take it. i usually just keep working M: ...Why? T: i dunno what else to do T: sometimes nazira tells me i need to take a break so i go to my room and watch the tv but that's about it

M: ......Really? T: i don't really understand human tv, the words they use are totally different from the words i hear people in the base use T: i never hear anyone around here say things like "daijoubu" or "hisashiburi" M: ...I also never really hear anyone here say things like that. M: ... M: But anyway, wow though, uh... Minyaxl scans the room for other staff and finds none but Thael. M: Wait, are you in your off time right now? T: yes M: ...Thael, let's go do something. T: do something? M: Yes. Hey, when was the last time you saw the surface? T: when you took me to that other country M: I...see. M: ... M: Let's go outside! T: ok Thael puts down his scientific implements and allows the small scellor to lead him, retaining his signature blank expression the whole way.

A minute or so later, the two emerge from the base. Thael briefly loses his wide-eyed look as he squints and raises his hand to shield his face from the blinding sun, but eventually returns to normal once his pupils adjust. Minyaxl walks him around to the shaded side of the nearby boat house. Minyaxl drops to the grass, his back against a wall, and Thael feels obligated to follow suit. A cool breeze blows past them, lifting the bottom of their hair gently to the side. M: It's come to my attention that we haven't actually talked very much at all, so I was hoping we could have a bit of conversation. I mean, jeez, you're pretty much my favorite person in this whole place and I still barely know anything about you. T: ... M: What are your interests? Got any hobbies? T: no M: ...Well I guess that answers the hobbies question but what about the interests one? T: nope M: ...Is...is that a "nope" as in "nope, i don't have any interests"? T: yes M: Well y- ...I mean...y-you clearly take an interest in science, right? T: ......... M: ...Is something wrong? T: um T: i... T: i'm not very interested in science M: ...What?! But you're great at it, you were great enough to be qualified for this! You obviously have a lot of experience with it, you must have done a ton of studying...why would you go through all that if you didn't even like it? T: ...i used to like it. M: Used to? What happened? T: ...... T: ...i...um......i-i'm not sure if it'd be good to talk about that. M: Talk about...what...? T: ... T: i've never told anyone about it before. M: Well I'm sure you could make an exception for me, right? T: w-well...um...

Thael begins looking uncomfortable. M: ...Are you alright? I've never seen you look so...worried, before. Not even when you were getting shot at... T: ...... T: i'm afraid. M: Afraid of what? T: afraid of you thinking less of me. T: you're the first person in the last 5 years i've felt that for T: ...you're the first person in the last 5 years i've felt ANYTHING for. T: i don't want you to know that i'm a- T: ...there's just some things i don't want you to know. M: ... Minyaxl produces a devilish grin, in spite of his friend's clearly serious discomfort. M: You know I'm not gonna be able to stop myself from prying after you've said THAT, right? M: C'mooon, what are you that you don't want me to know about? Let's see, you're awfully tall by average caste standards...are you actually a Niaar who wishes he were an Ulkam? Or maybe a formerly proud Niaar who was forced into doing an Ulkam's work? M: Or maybe you're actually an alien separate from scellor and humans that's just disguised as a scellor? It could explain the unique...body shape... M: Wait... He lowers his voice to an almost whisper for this next question, even though they're still speaking telepathically. M: ...Are you trans? Because seriously I still don't know how a biological male could be so... His eyes glance downwards for a split second. M: ...adiposally gifted. M: I swear though you better not be another android thinking that you're subscellor or anything as obvious as that because we JUST went through hell to prove that we're accepting of Teri despite her leaking informatio- T: i'm a monster. Thael turns his head to face his friend. From Minyaxl's perspective, Thael is now looming over him, his blank eyes now looking less like the innocent windows of an endearingly lost individual and more like cold, emotionless portals to a neurological abyss.

A few moments of silent thought pass, and Minyaxl briefly wonders to himself if he maybe ended up getting emotionally close to a broken psychopath, whom he also repeatedly slept with. M: ... M: Ahah, come on, it can't be that bad...don't scare me like that, alright? Thael ceases his gaze, staring off into the space in front of him again. T: when i said you're the first person i've felt anything for in the past 5 years, i meant it. T: i never really feel anything in regard to anyone or anything. i haven't in a long time. T: but when you're around...it's different. maybe not by much, but there's at least something. T: when you enter the same room as me, i feel a little happy. M: Only a little...? T: a little is a lot more than nothing. T: and...i... T: ......i don't want you to stop entering the same room as me. T: i like feeling happy. it feels...good. M: If you like being with me so much then why don't you ever leave the lab to come find me during breaks? T: i don't want to bother you M: Oh come on, you're never a bother to me. Which is a lot more than I can say about some people... M: And I guarantee you that your story won't bother me. T: i'm sure it will, and i'm sure that you'll feel more apprehensive toward me afterwards T: and then you won't want to see me, and then i won't get to feel good anymore T: ... T: is that selfish? M: N...no, it's not... M: But...I do think you should have a little more trust in me. M: Thael, listen. I really really like you. I consider us to be close friends, and I wouldn't just turn on a close friend like that. I'd trade the life of any one of my squadmates for yours if it ever came down to it. I am PROMISING you that whatever story you have to tell, it can't change those feelings. M: Can you trust that? T: ......... T: alright T: i'll tell you.

Clouds begin moving in front of the sun that shone so brightly a minute ago. Minyaxl knows it's just coincidental timing, but he still can't help but feel a small doubt about whether or not he should have actually asked for the story he's about to hear. T: around 500 or so years ago, there was a scientist who wanted to find a way to control people's souls. T: to that end, he did terrible things. T: he'd take living, sentient scellor, and restrain them inside pods that were designed to psionically manipulate their souls. T: in his experiments he ended up destroying or otherwise irreparably damaging dozens of scellor souls, leaving them with no hope of reincarnation. M: ...W...w-wait, what?? What the fuck...??? M: How have I never heard of this?? T: it was kept fairly secret, but if you dive deep enough into government project records you'll find it. M: Government?! T: yeah. M: Wh-...I...but... Minyaxl recoils with a look of absolute horror. He looks like he'd be ready to start producing tears, but he holds back to focus on hearing the rest of the story. M: Entire...souls... M: Just......destroyed?? M: How the fuck could anyone do something like that?!? Let alone our...our own government... T: thankfully, he never succeeded in his mission, but the damage he caused was permanent. T: and just like you're doing now, anyone else who heard about his exploits would've just lamented those past victims and moved on, but T: while reading about the things he did, i started to remember doing them myself. T: and then i started remembering other things that hadn't been written about T: like the fact that the experiments would cause a kind of pain more pure and direct than anything the body or mind could normally experience T: and the sight of the bodies dropping to the floor as empty husks once their essences were erased from the world T: and as those memories invaded my head, it quickly became clear to me that i was the one responsible for all of it. M: ...Oh. I......holy shit... M: B-but, I mean, even though that man deserves no forgiveness, everyone knows your past lives don't have to determine who you are. You're basically not even the same person, even if you happen to have the same soul. T: that was my hope T: i was absolutely horrified, but that horror was reassuring to me, because it meant that my current self would never do something like that T: well, that's what i thought, at least. T: i went into university with an immense conviction to do good, to use science for the benefit of others and make up for those crimes of the past T: i was a lot more excitable back then. i felt like a superhero, so sure of myself, so happy to do the right thing. i had so much passion that people thought i was kind of crazy and needed to chill out, but i felt nothing but positivity. T: i graduated with immediate career prospects. i didn't even have to look for a job, my credentials were such that a government agency reached out to hire me right away. i jumped at the opportunity. T: i should've seen the warning signs going in. they'd always talk about the importance of making "sacrifices" for the greater good, and they'd constantly reassure you that you'd be doing the right thing. that seemed kind of odd to me, but the thought never crossed my mind that it was a flimsy excuse to pretend that what was being done was ok. T: by the time i realized the truth of the situation, it was too late to back out. that's how they'd get people; they'd be vague enough to get you to agree to the job and sign an NDA, but they wouldn't bring any attention to the fine print stating that you wouldn't be allowed to leave once you saw anything. T: and then as soon as you were in, you saw everything. T: i never even thought it was possible for a government operation to be so unethical. i always assumed there were serious laws in place, but either there weren't enough or the government just didn't care. T: i guess i shouldn't have been surprised considering my past self had a government position, but i guess i blindly hoped that his project was a freak incident and things like that wouldn't be allowed to happen again. T: that hope was misplaced. M: ...What exactly...happened in there?

T: they wanted to find a way to force sentient scellor to become drones again. normally you have to make a conscious choice to become a drone, and even then the state is reversible, but they wanted the ability to rob undesirables of their free will. T: they wanted to be able to deal with enemies of the state without outright killing them, so our organization was tasked with discovering a method to make people more...neurologically compliant. T: despite our nonlethal end goal, a lot of test subjects died in experiments. of course i didn't want to have any part in it but they wouldn't let me leave no matter how much i begged. T: i was pretty low on the corporate ladder. i wasn't tasked with a whole lot of decision-making, but instead given the grunt work of carrying out experiments designed by those higher than me. T: since not even the most powerful orthan can force someone to become a drone, we had to try more brutish techniques. T: i personally had to carry out everything they could think to try, from hypnosis to... T: ... T: well. T: imagine a short little praal girl, barely into adulthood, strapped down to an operating chair, crying and screaming and pleading at you with every ounce of energy she can muster, begging you not to lobotomize her. M: ...... T: i tried to do it but my hand wouldn't stop shaking and my tears made my vision really blurry, so someone had to come in and scold me until i was able to steel myself enough to get it done. they yelled so loud that i started to feel guilty for NOT doing it. M: ...Y-you...... T: i was really bad at the torture too T: the subjects knew i didn't want to continue doing anything to them so it was kinda hard to be intimidating, i mostly just begged them to become drones so i wouldn't have to hurt them any longer T: the torture actually worked sometimes, but it wasn't good enough for the people in charge. they wanted to be able to instantaneously convert someone from a distance. T: so they kept devising more ideas, and they kept making people like me try them out T: and i just kept crying. T: i cried, over and over, every single day T: during my free time, during the experiments T: i'd tell the test subjects how sorry i was, again and again, even continuing to say it to the corpses of the ones that didn't make it T: i must have looked almost as terrified as they did. T: and i'd just cry and cry and cry T: but i guess eventually i ran out of tears. T: at a certain point when doing those sorts of things you just stop feeling, because you can't anymore T: so i stopped, and i haven't really felt anything since. M: .........

Minyaxl struggles to organize his thoughts into any set of meaningful words. M: I...I-I um... M: Wow... T: do you understand why i didn't want to tell you about this now? M: ...... T: i want you to be honest Thael faces Minyaxl again, locking eyes. T: do you still want to be close to me? Minyaxl worriedly searches for signs of life in the set of pale, empty glass orbs currently confronting him with a dead gaze. His instincts tell him to turn away, but he fights them. M: ...... He's not sure he's found anything, but he decides he doesn't care. M: ......Yes. T: ? M: Yes, I do. T: really? M: Listen, I'm not gonna pretend that the things you did weren't fucked up, but...you wouldn't have done them if you had any way of avoiding it. You didn't have a choice. T: yes i did T: i could have refused M: But from the way you described things it sounds like they'd have probably just killed you and gotten someone else to do it. T: but at least i wouldn't have shared responsibility Thael turns away. T: i really have no right to be alive after what i did M: ... M: Please don't say things like that... T: i'm sorry T: ... T: i just......wanted to help people...... Minyaxl scans his friend's face, expecting to see tears running down his cheeks. He instead sees the same dry, emotionless expression Thael has continued wearing throughout the whole story. M: But...you ARE helping people now. M: Look at your current job! You're helping to save an alien race from genocide!! T: i know T: i sometimes wish i could feel happy about that T: it's good that my body is being put to use for philanthropic purposes, but...i feel like i'm just that. T: a body, being put to use. T: i don't feel like a person who makes decisions, i feel like a robot that carries out the tasks that it's given and sometimes responds to self-preservation instincts like sleep and food intake T: it's funny, my job was to turn other people into drones but now i feel like a drone myself. T: not that i'm really bothered by that T: as long as i'm being used for good, it's fine M: ... M: I... Once again Minyaxl lowers the imaginary volume of his psionic voice, a little embarrassed of what he's about to say. M: ...I want to help you feel things again. Thael turns to him, his eyes opening slightly more than usual with a look of mild curiosity. T: ...? M: I'm going to stay friends with you, and I'm going to do the best I can to brighten your days. T: ...what...? T: ...why would you make that kind of effort for me...? M: Because I think you deserve it. T: ...how could you possibly think i deserve it after what i- M: It doesn't matter how!! I just do. You don't need to worry about it. T: ... T: well i suppose i'm......glad...? T: ...i know i said i haven't really felt anything since those days, and i know i'll probably never feel much of anything ever again, but... T: like i said earlier, you...do help me feel a shred of something every now and then T: so......i'm glad that can continue. The slightest of muscle movements raise the corners of Thael's mouth; it's almost imperceptible, but he is definitely smiling.

#thael #minyaxl #savage worlds #tabletop #scellor #writing #the initiative

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Assassin’s Creed Valhalla Review

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Despite releasing 12 Assassin’s Creed installments since 2007, Ubisoft is still finding ways to keep the series fresh, and the latest sequel, Valhalla is one of the best titles yet. Is it a revelation for the series? No—there are very few new ideas presented here. But it’s a polished title with solid gameplay and a story that is exceedingly coherent for an open-world AAA title.

In Assassin’s Creed Valhalla, you play as Eivor, a fearsome Viking in 873 AD who lost her parents in battle, a moment that left her literally scarred and hellbent on getting revenge against the warlord who slaughtered them. It’s important to note that the game gives you the choice to play as a male or female version of Eivor at the start of the game, but you’re also given a third option that allows the Animus to “choose” the gender for you based on the memory being recollected. Theoretically, the game is then supposed to switch between male and female throughout the adventure, but despite letting the Animus choose, I remained female for most of my play time.

After an hours-long intro that sees you exploring and kicking ass across the mountainous terrain of Norway, Eivor and her brother Sigurd set out on a longship to start a new settlement of their own in England, where a majority of the game takes place. The game’s story is as violent and unflinching as you’d expect considering the milieu. Eivor and her crew of Vikings go to war with other clans, and she of course carries out missions on her own in traditional Assassin’s Creed fashion. The game centers on you expanding your clan’s influence across England’s four kingdoms, forging alliances and collecting resources to build up your riverside settlement.

“Collecting” is a kind word for what you’re actually doing—Eivor and her clan are brutal warriors who raid any settlement they come across, pillaging and annihilating their way to land dominance. As you travel the English channels in your longship, with a simple button press you can initiate a raid on any settlement you see, which is great fun. As you invade, you work with your crew to find treasures and resources to send home, and the game does a good job of highlighting the camaraderie aspect of the raids via a fluid stream of dialogue between Eivor and her fellow warriors. Conquest Battles return from Odyssey in the form of Assaults and are larger scale raids on gigantic fortresses that feel pretty epic and are tied to the main narrative.

Raids and Assaults are naturally where you’ll engage in the most combat, which is the backbone of this title more than any other in the series. Eivor can wield any combination of swords, shields, flails, maces, axes, and more in her two hands, and you can unlock a host of abilities to unleash hell upon your foes. There are melee abilities, which allow you to rush enemies and slam them into walls or throw them off cliffs, throw a barrage of axes at their skulls, grapple and fling them into other enemies, and much more. And then there are ranged abilities, like one that lets you slow down time to land perfect shots, take direct control of a fired arrow’s trajectory, mark multiple targets for a quick projectile assault, etc. Abilities are unlocked by finding hidden scrolls across the game world or via the game’s sprawling skill tree, whose myriad nodes afford you stat increases and various buffs as well.

Release Date: Nov. 10, 2020 Platforms: PC (reviewed), XSX, PS5, XBO, PS4, Stadia Developer: Ubisoft Montreal Publisher: Ubisoft Genre: Action-adventure

There are a ton of different ways to enact violence in the game, with each weapon and ability bolstered by sweet-looking character animations. The combat is fun and fluid, but it also lacks a sense of tactility, that crunchy, disgusting feeling of impact you get in games like God of War or even Doom Eternal. There’s floatiness to the melee combat that is hard to pinpoint but definitely made combat a little less satisfying than I would have liked.

There’s also stealth gameplay, of course, which is typical Assassin’s Creed fare. I still enjoy sneaking up behind enemies in the tall grass and offing them quickly before their buddies can glimpse me, but the melee and ranged combat in this game is so effective and paramount to the experience that I found myself using stealth far less often than in other games in the series, which I suppose is appropriate since, well, Eivor is a fearless Viking who smashes skulls for a living.

Exploration is a crucial component of any open world game and in this regard Assassin’s Creed Valhalla is fantastic. I loved galloping across the countryside on horseback and drinking in the painterly locales and then splattering the blood of my enemies all over them like a mass-murdering Jackson Pollock. A sign of a great open-world game for me is how much I find myself just wandering around and engaging in whatever quest or activity happens to come my way as opposed to fast-traveling around like crazy just to plow through the main story and get it over with. In Valhalla, I was an avid wanderer, which is a testament to just how compelling a game world Ubisoft has created.

Maybe the best thing Assassin’s Creed Valhalla has going for it is the game world’s sense of continuity. Because you’re constantly analyzing England’s territories on so many levels, it starts to feel like a place that’s not just enormous, but full of people, events, kingdoms, and machinations that all affect and push and pull each other. On an intimate level, you’re exploring the English countryside and its rivers and tributaries on foot. On a more macro level, you’re examining the kingdoms on the alliance map, slowly expanding your influence. And then there’s your hunt for different members of the Order and the many artifacts scattered around the world. Each of these activities connects you to the game world in a different way and deepens your understanding of it, and it can become deeply immersive.

My favorite activities in the game are the various “mysteries” you encounter, little self-contained stories featuring bizarre characters and situations. I loved searching these out because they are so weird and funny and entertaining that they almost overshadow the main story. One involves a confused warrior who has no idea that he’s got an axe buried in his skull (his name is Axehead, adorably); another sees you aiding a ship captain who thinks he’s raiding villages with his crew when, in reality, he’s delusional and alone in a field with an empty longboat, wolves circling him, threatening to eat him alive.

But as for the main narrative, it’s well executed on several levels. It’s a tale of fate, loyalty, glory, and murky morality, with Eivor having to make tough decisions as to how she grows her settlement and how she navigates her relationship with Sigurd and his followers. The characters are really well written and each have a distinctive personality, like the psychopathic but oddly relatable Ivarr and the desperately loyal Dag, Sigurd’s oafish right hand. The joint performances by the voice actors and animators are terrific as well, and the dialogue sounds natural.

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The story takes a strange turn at one point, with Eivor and Sigurd encountering some truly trippy shit involving their Norse mythological roots. It’s really wild stuff that may come off as corny to some, but I dug the hell out of it. The obligatory Assassin’s Creed present-day interludes tie into Eivor’s story in an interesting way as well, with Layla Hassan, Rebecca Crane, and Shaun Hastings unearthing Eivor’s remains and making a real connection with the past in a surprising way independent of the Animus.

Presentation-wise, the game is a AAA title through and through. From the animations, to the assets, to the character, environment, and sound design, the game is a pristine package, which is even more impressive considering its size. I really dig the game’s autumnal/wintery aesthetic, and the character models are absurdly detailed and expressive for an open-world title. Ubisoft is a huge studio with deep resources, and it’s nice to see that Valhalla’s high-quality production value reflects that.

The settlement-building system, which has been absent from the series since Black Flag, is engaging enough, though I didn’t find myself very motivated to focus on it. Adding different buildings opens up new ways to play, like the Assassin Bureau, which tasks you with hunting down members of the Order by collecting clues, and the Valka Hut, which allows you to travel to Asgard and fight alongside the mighty Thor, Freyja, and Tyr. All of these quests are great, but the actual building of the settlement wasn’t fun for me at all and felt more like a chore. The layout of the settlement feels too spread-out and looks a bit ugly.

But expanding the influence of the settlement is awesome—“pledging” to different territories and fulfilling quests for their leaders to gain their loyalty is a fun, immersive experience, and I like how this idea of large-scale conquest ties the narrative together. This game is a cohesive package, and I think this is due to the excellent alliance system.

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Assassin’s Creed Valhalla is an enormous game with a lengthy campaign and tons of things to do. It’s not going to blow anyone away who’s familiar with the series, but amongst its peers, I think Valhalla is in the upper tier of the Assassin’s Creed hierarchy.

The post Assassin’s Creed Valhalla Review appeared first on Den of Geek.

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comicbookgeek13 · 6 years

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How to Properly Adapt Stephen King’s The Shining into a Movie

I always thought it’d be cool to see someone adapt Stephen King’s The Shining more faithfully than Kubrick and with more skill than the miniseries. So, I wrote up a rough outline for that movie for fun after finally reading the book.

Stephen King’s

The Shining

Characters

· Jack Torrance-A man in his 30’s, Jack is attractive in that dad sort of way. A loving father and husband, Jack relies on jokes to mask his anger issues and status as a recovering alcoholic. Jack’s main triggers are authority, stress, and his deep-seated self-loathing, and this is what the Overlook uses to break him. Once he has been ruined by the Overlook, Jack is violent, vulgar, and venomous, not the ever-lovable Jack Nicholson oozing his unique crazy charisma.

· Wendy Torrance-Also in her 30’s, Wendy is a blond-haired knockout of a woman. She’s introspective, observant, and fierce. She deeply loves both her husband and son, but feels somewhat excluded by closeness. She knows to distrust the Overlook and its influence on Jack when it becomes apparent that something isn’t right about the hotel. She’s also keen to Danny’s “Shine”, and is unsurprised when he tells her and Jack about it.

· Danny Torrance-A boy of 10-years-old with dirty-blonde hair, Danny is a quiet boy who desperately loves his Mom and Dad, and wants them to love on another. Visions shown to him by “Tony” warn him of the Overlook, and his Shining allows for minor mind reading and precognition. He is likeable, not creepy. His actor should be talented and believable.

· Dick Hallorann-A black man in his late 40’s/early 50’s, Dick is a symbol of wisdom and comfort to the audience. A laid-back kind of cool, Dick has a kind of humorous approach to life that causes him to ooze a content love of life.

· Stuart Ulman-A man in his 40’s, Stuart is the pompous and cold manager of the Overlook. He’s incredibly punchable.

· Watson-Watson is the foul-mouthed and charismatic maintenance man of the Overlook.

· Delbert Grady-A thuggish-looking man, Grady is the last caretaker before Jack. As a phantom, Grady has been totally altered and is the fate awaiting Jack if the Overlook has its way.

· Floyd-A man with the sort of dignified, gaunt features that call to mind Peter Cushing, Floyd is the Overlook personified by Jack Torrance’s inner-demons. A friendly, refined bartender, Floyd is sympathetic and encouraging of Jack’s selfish feelings of anger and self-pity.

Location

The film should have the exterior shots be of the Stanley Hotel, but create the interiors in a studio as was done with the Kubrick film. As things get worse, the set design should take inspiration from the illogical layout of Kubrick’s Overlook.

Transitions

During scenes transitions, the date and time should be displayed in the lower right-hand corner. Scenes that take place on the same day as previous scenes should only display the time.

Act I

August 15th, 1980, 1:30 PM

The first scene is of Jack Torrance being interviewed by the manager of the Overlook, Stuart Ulman, for the position of the hotel’s winter caretaker. Ulman is a very strict manager who expects only the very best for the Overlook. Ulman brings up Jack’s history as an alcoholic, and that he lost his job at Stovington Prep school due to an unspecified violent incident. Jack, though he keeps up a job-interview appropriate air, asks Ulman why he’s bothering to see him if he has so many issues with him. Ulman tells Jack about the previous caretaker, Delbert Grady. Grady was an alcoholic and high school dropout. He was also a husband and father of two girls. During the dead of Winter, Grady murdered his wife and daughters with an axe before blowing his brains out with a shotgun. Ulman tells Jack that he just wants to be sure Jack’s history of alcoholism and anger-problems won’t be an issue. Jack reassures Ulman that he won’t have the same problem with him. He’s working on a play, he and his wife, Wendy, are both big readers, and they’ll be home-schooling their son, Danny, over the winter. Despite Jack’s sensitivity towards Ulman’s fears, Ulman is still unpleasant towards Jack. He does give Jack the job, though, and says he should go speak to the maintenance man, Watson, about the boiler.

1:45 PM

This scene has Jack walking with the astonishingly blue-collar Watson in the guts of the Overlook while they conversate with one another. Watson explains to Jack just why Ulman keeps his job. “Ulman knows how to keep shit running good, yeah, but that ain’t why he’s so goddamned good for this place. He knows how to keep shit out of the papers. Every hotels got its fair share of ghosts, yeah, but the Overlook’s have a flair for the dramatic. He told you about that shit with Grady, right? Well, that ain’t the only time some fucking thing has cropped up that the papers would have had a field-day with, but Ulman has always kept that shit quiet. Had this wife of some shyster come in with her 30-years-younger boyfriend, right? Boyfriend skipped out one night, and wifey slits her wrists in the tub. Ulman shut the shyster AND the reporters up. He’s a viscous little prick, yeah, but he knows what the fuck he’s doing.” He then tells Jack about how sensitive the boiler is due to age, noting that the only reason the Overlook is even still around is that Grady shut it down before killing himself, and how to operate it.

3:25 PM

This scene has Wendy Torrance doing dishes in the little apartment they’ve been living in, eying Danny through the kitchen window. He’s sitting on the curb, waiting for his Daddy to get home with the news about the Overlook. She dries her hands, and goes to sit with her son. She asks what he’s doing, and he tells her what she already knew. She notices a toy plane of his sitting next to him, the right wing just barely attached, and she offers to fix it. Danny declines her offer, saying he wants Jack to fix it. She asks Danny how he feels about Jack getting a new job. Danny says he doesn’t understand why Jack can’t just get a job in the town they live in now. After searching for the words for a few ticks of the clock, she asks if he remember why his Daddy lost his last job. Danny says he knows it had something to do with their bug’s tires getting slashed. Wendy explains that the father of one of Jack’s students was unhappy that Jack cut his son from the debate taem. Danny asks if Jack punished the boy’s father too hard like he had Danny. An affected Wendy closes her eyes to keep herself calm. We cut to Wendy holding an 8-years-old Danny, whose arm has been broken and is sobbing over it, and calling an ambulance. Another cut, this one to Jack’s office, papers of his play strewn everywhere and drawn on. There’s a spilled can of beer on the floor. Jack’s curled up in a ball. “Worthless, stupid…Just like him, just like him, just like him…Oh God, I’m so sorry, Doc…”. Cut back to Wendy in the present, who opens her eyes before finally giving a “Yes.” She says that it was very hard for Jack to get a job because of this. She adds that the Overlook provides a chance for Jack to prove he can do better. Danny nods to all this. Wendy asks if he wants to come in to eat cookies, but he declines. Wendy goes back inside. Danny remains on the curb. The wind picks up, and a voice is heard whispering Danny’s name. “T-Tony?” Danny becomes visibly drowsy before falling back-first to lay on the soft grass of the Torrance’s lawn, asleep. What follows is a quickly cut together montage with the only sound being that of various people screaming. There’s the wrecked interior of the Overlook, the windows blocked up by snow. Danny’s feet running on a blue-black carpet with vaguely jungle-like patterning to it. A new sound emerges, that of thunderous impacts. The screen goes black, and red jagged text spells out, “COME HERE, AND TAKE YOUR MEDICINE, YOU LITTLE SHIT! TAKE IT LIKE A MAN!”. A shot of Wendy running with a limp down the hallway of the Overlook, clutching her left side with blood running out of her mouth. Black screen again and red letters saying “RED RUM” appear until the screen is solid red. Danny wakes up with a start, and sits up to see their yellow volkswagon turning down the street. Clearly excited, Danny meets Jack when he gets out of the car. Jack sees Danny’s plane, and says he’ll help fix it once they bring in the groceries. Wendy comes out to greet them, and asks if Jack got the job. Jack answers with a game show host voice declaring she’s the lucky winner of an all-expenses-paid family trip to the mountains of Colorado. She’s elated, and they kiss.

8:30 PM

This scene shows Danny, clutching his mended plane, sitting with Jack on the couch. The both of them have fallen asleep in front of the TV. Wendy turns it off, waking Jack, and she says it’s time for bed. We cut to Jack placing Danny in his bed, Wendy watching from the doorway to their son’s room. Jack joins her there, and they look at their son. Wendy says that things finally seem to really be looking up for them. Jack tells her that it’s because they are. They both profess their love for one another.

September 30th, 1980, 10:30 AM

We see the Torrances driving down a road that cuts through the piney forests of Colorado. The forests give way to the mountains, and we see the Overlook in the distance. They pull into a parking space, other cars leaving, and Jack tells the other members of their trio, “We’re here.” They enter a lobby full of all sorts of people leaving. In the center of this chaos is Ulman. They approach him to talk, but he tells them to go meet with the hotel’s cook, Hallorann, for a tour of the kitchen.

10:36 AM

This scene shows Dick Hallorann in the apartment the hotel provides for him, luggage packed up. There’s a knocking at the door, and Dick goes to answer it. The Torrances introduce themselves, and Dick is very warm and happy to see them. He jokingly offers to take Danny with him to Tampa, Florida, which makes the boy giggle. He then offers to take the family to the kitchen for a tour.

10:45 AM

While giving them the tour of the kitchen, listing off the Overlook’s stock as well as the turkey he bought for them to use on Thanksgiving, he pretends to forget what his name is. He asks Danny what it is, and Danny says, “Mr. Hallorann, Dick to your friends.” Hallorann replies with, “Then I guess you can call me Dick, then. Can you dig it.” Danny says that he can. After the tour, Hallorann goes back to his apartment with the Torrances. Jack says they ought to go see Ulman off, but Danny insists on helping Dick with his luggage. Dick assures them he’ll bring Danny back to them before he leaves.

10:52 AM

The next scene shows Dick and Danny loading his bags into the trunk of Dick’s car. Dick asks if Danny’s told his parents about his powers, the older man’s mouth not moving when he says it. Danny, visibly surprised, says no. He asks Danny if he thought he was the only one with powers. Danny says no, that he knows his Dad has a little that lets him know how Wendy and him are feeling at any given time. He doesn’t think his Dad is aware of it, though. Dick tells Danny that his Grandma was the one with powers that he knew. He tells him that she called it “The Shining”. Next, Dick asks if Danny’s had any visions or bad feelings about the Overlook. The boy says yes. Dick tells him that there’s good reason for that. That there’s something wrong about the Overlook. That it will try to scare him by showing him scary things, but that he doesn’t think that they can hurt him. He does advise that Danny avoid the topiary animals and Room 217, though. He says that if things do look like he or his family will be hurt, Danny should call out to him with his Shine, and Dick will come to save him. Then he and Danny head to get the boy back to his parents.

11:15 AM

This scene has the Torrances with Ulman in the now-deserted lobby. Though still very punchable, Ulman wishes them luck. The Torrances watch him leave, and take in the view. Then, Danny says he’s hungry.

12:05 PM

This scene shows the Torrances eating their lunch in the deserted Colorado Lounge. Jack says that the activity feels weirder than he’d thought it would be, and asks if Wendy and Danny feel the same. They do, and the family move to eat in the living room of Dick’s apartment to eat lunch while watching TV. They are all very happy.

October 13th, 1980, 7:30 PM

This scene has Jack working on his play in the caretaker’s office, and Danny working on his time-tables in the employee bedroom just across from where Jack and Wendy are sleeping. Wendy pokes her head into her son’s room, and tells him to brush his teeth and go to bed. He does this, but, while brushing his teeth, the voice from before calls his name. Wendy knocks on the door to check if Danny’s still in there, but Danny doesn’t answer. She knocks harder and calls Danny’s name. Jack hears her, and comes down to check on Danny too. After Danny continues to not answer, they break the door down to find Danny seizing on the floor, toothpaste running out of his mouth.

October 14th, 1980, 10:00 AM

The next scene has the Torraces waiting in a doctor’s office. A nurse calls for Danny, who goes to see the doctor. His parents look worried, and we cut to them talking with the doctor. He asks them if they know about Tony. They acknowledge they do, Wendy saying that she’d hoped Danny had finally outgrown the imaginary friend. He tells her that Danny told him that the two of them had been considering divorce recently. They say that they were, but it wasn’t something they talked about out loud. They wonder aloud about how he could’ve known, and this causes stories to come out about Danny knowing where things were when no one else did. The doctor then asks if the divorce was a thing brought upon by some sort of event. They seem pensive, and then Jack tells the doctor about his alcoholism, breaking Danny’s arm, that leading to his dropping drinking, and what lead to Jack losing his job at Stovington. There seems to be a relief brought about by their talking about this aloud. The doctor explains that Danny probably has a lot of perceptiveness about him that allows for him to notice things like the divorce being in the air and where things go. The doctor also explains that Tony was likely created as an escape when things were bad in the house, and now Danny was making him a negative force so that he can outgrow him. Jack seems convinced about that, but Wendy, not so much. Cut to Jack and Wendy going back out to Danny, and Jack saying that they should head back to the Overlook. He calls it “home”.

Act II

October 16th, 1980, 12:00 PM

This scene has Jack Torrance nosing around in the guts of the Overlook. The area he’s in is chock full of piles and piles of old paper. Newspapers, receipts, check in/check out logs, magazines, and junk mail. He’s looking for rats. Jack looks like he’s ready to leave when he notices a large, white photo album with “The Life of The Overlook” written on the front cover in faux gold.

1:15 PM

Jack’s looking through the album in the living area of Dick Hallorann’s apartment, enraptured. Wendy comes in and asks him what it is he finds so interesting. Jack tells her that the book is a compilation of newspaper and magazine articles having to do with the Overlook’s history. It goes all the way back to the beginning. It turns out that Watson’s family were the ones to open the place. During the time that they owned the place, two presidents stayed there. The Great Depression killed it. The history becomes truly interesting in the 40’s. Henry Derwint, a famous and reclusive businessman of the day, bought the place a little into World War II. He was the one to update the Overlook’s interiors. One night, a masquerade party was held. After everyone had unmasked at the stroke of midnight, a spurned lover slit Derwint’s throat with a straight razor, killing him, before slitting his own throat, committing suicide. After that, the place was turned into a glorified whore house. After that was done, the mob got the place. The kept it as a location to hold meetings at until there was a gangland-style murder of a lieutenant and his five bodyguards by other mobsters in the suite that the presidents had stayed in. The Overlook lay abandoned throughout the sixties. Ulman and his took the place over in 1972. “It’s like the dark side of every post-World War II phase in America is represented here.” Wendy thinks it morbid, but Jack says it might make a great book someday.

October 19th, 1980, 10:05 AM

This scene shows Jack cooling the boiler off.

11:03 AM

Jack working on his play in the caretaker’s office, Wendy reading a book and Danny watching TV in the living area of Dick Hallorann’s apartment.

12:05 PM

The Torrances building a snowman.

October 20th, 1980, 2:00 PM

We see Wendy rocking in a rocking chair, further into reading the same book, and Danny sleeping with Lego all around him. They are in the lobby of the Overlook. Wendy hears what sounds like jazz music and looks up from her book, concerned. The music stops, but her expression doesn’t change.

October 22nd, 1980, 1:45 PM

We see Jack and Wendy making love in the hotel room they’re sleeping in. Meanwhile, Danny’s wandering the halls and listening to The Hobbit on tape using a Walkman with Jack’s name on it. He walks past one of the old-fashioned fire-extinguishers. His tape’s audio begins to slow down until the tape is stopped completely. Looking frustrated, Danny starts to take out the Walkman to examine it, but is stopped when he hears something fall to the blue-black vaguely jungle patterned carpet of the Overlook’s hallways with a thud. He looks over, and sees that the head of the hose has fallen. The sound of insects buzzing starts to play, and a lump begins to appear in the hose. Danny watches with wide-eyed horror as the lump inches further and further down the hose while the buzzing gets louder. A giant wasp begins to emerge from the nozzle. It’s halfway out when Danny runs away. His tape starts back up, and Danny looks back at the hose. It’s just a hose lying on the carpet.

October 28th, 1980, 10:00 AM

We see Jack putting on winter clothes in the caretaker’s office. Wendy and Danny come by, and asks if he wants to come with her and Danny to do some grocery shopping. He declines, saying he needs to trim the topiary animals before the heavy snowfall hits. We see the Overlook’s pickup truck go off, Jack heading towards the topiary.

10:15 AM

We have Danny and Wendy driving in the pickup truck. Looking visibly unsure, Danny asks if Wendy likes the Overlook. Wendy asks him why he asks. Danny says he thinks that it’s kind of creepy. Wendy asks if he thinks there’s anything dangerous about it. Danny says that he doesn’t think so. Wendy asks him what Tony says about it. Danny says Tony thinks there’s something in the Overlook that wants to hurt Jack. Wendy is visibly worried.

10:22 AM

Jack has just finished trimming up the rabbit. We get a good establishing shot to let us know where all the topiary animals. Jack starts heading for the lion. “You may be king of the jungle, but I’m king of the clippers, baby.” He starts trimming it up, but hears the sound of snow falling in chunks. He turns and we get a POV shot of Jack scanning the scene until he notices that the rabbit is on its belly now, clean of snow. A shot of a confused Jack saying “What?”. The sound of snow chunks again. Jack turns to see that the lion is gone. He’s still processing the sight when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns to see all of the animals in the topiary facing him, the lion leading the pack. Jack looks rightfully scared. Sequence of Jack blinking and the animals getting closer until Jack falls backwards into the snow. When he scrambles up to his feet, afraid, the animals are all in place again, snow where it should be. Jack looks terrified. “You’re losing your mind…” Jack gets to his feet proper with a “No!”. As he cleans off the snow and gets the clippers, he mutters things to soothe himself.

6:30 PM

Jack is sitting in the caretaker’s office, staring at the typewriter and the blank page it holds. He is frustrated. Wendy pokes her head in, and asks if he wants to come watch Star Wars with her and Danny. Jack looks at the blank page for a beat, and says he’ll join her.

November 8th, 1980, 7:30 PM

We see that Jack has made a path in the snow for the door leading outside from the kitchen. He tosses some grease out through there.

November 11th, 1980, 1:15 PM

Wendy’s in front of the fireplace again, sleeping. Jack is in the caretaker’s office, reading “The Life of The Overlook”. We see the key rack in that office, and the key for 217 is missing. Cut to Danny standing in front of Room 217 with the key. “I’m not afraid of you.” Despite his determined words and tone, Danny opens the door cautiously. The room is in darkness, the lights off and curtains drawn. Danny sighs with relief. “Empty…” Then there’s a sound in the bathroom. Cautiously, Danny goes into the bathroom. The shower curtain is drawn around the tub. Danny approaches, and pulls it back. A long-dead woman, skin thin and pale, belly bloated, lies naked in water that has a thin layer of scum made from old blood and chunks that have come off. Danny is wide-eyed in his terror. The woman opens her eyes, goo webbing between the lids, and reveals that they are a solid white. She smiles, the skin at the corners of her mouth ripping. She begins to get out of the tub, and Danny steps back out of fear. We cut to Jack, whose now asleep in his chair, “The Life of The Overlook” lying in his lap now. The CB radio that’s been on the desk in that office crackles to life. “Jackyyy…Jacky-Boyy…” The voice that speaks of someone who is husky and drunk, and it stirs Jack out of sleep. “D-Dad?” The voice goes on. “That’s right, Jack-Boy!” “But you’re dead, Dad.” “Hey, watch your mouth, Pup! I’m here now, ain’t I? So do somethin’ smart for once, and listen to what the old man’s got to say! It’s that wife and kid, Jacky, that bitch and her little pup. You gotta kill ‘em, Jacky. They’re gonna stab you right in you’re back! Sabotage any progress you make as a writer. As the caretaker. As a man, Jacky!” Jack says no, and for his Dad to shut up, but the voice goes on. “Kill ‘em, runt! Bash that cunt’s brains in, and rip the pup’s arm off! They gotta take their medi—” The voice is cut off when Jack smashes the CB, the noise waking Wendy. She gets out of the rocking chair, and rushes to Jack. Jack’s standing over the radio, fists clenched and shaking. He looks to her, afraid. She goes to him, and they embrace. He explains that he had a nightmare that his Dad was talking to him through the CB, telling him to do terrible things, and that he must’ve destroyed it by sleepwalking. He talks about how he’s ruined their only means of communication. She comforts him, and asks where Danny is. Jack says he thought that Danny was with her in the lobby. They both notice the key to Room 217 missing from its ring. Cut to the woman walking out of the bathroom, arms outreached and giggling like some kind of witch. Danny’s got his back to the door of Room 217, scared out of his mind. He sinks to his feet, muttering about her not being real. She wraps her fingers around Danny’s throat. Cut to outside the room door, Jack and Wendy just reaching it. Using his master key, Jack opens the door to the room. Danny falls out into his Father’s arms. Danny is totally unresponsive, catatonic, and Jack notices bruises shaped like fingers on his son’s neck. Wendy notices this too, and takes Danny from Jack. “Don’t touch him!” Jack, initially confused, quickly becomes furious that Wendy would suspect that he’d ever hurt Danny. Wendy tells Jack to stay away, and leaves for the hotel room they’ve been sleeping in. Jack is left to stew in the hallway, head down and fists clenched.

1:45 PM

The scene starts with Wendy cradling Danny in her and Jack’s room. Cut to Jack entering the Colorado Lounge. It is entirely empty, chairs on all of the tables. Jack approaches the bar, and sits on one of the stools. The camera faces Jack for the next sequence. He looks down at the bar sour before looking up, grinning a hateful smile. “Hi, Floyd. Say, you’re a man whose heard his fair share of woe, right, Floyd? ‘Course you have! You’re a bartender, and the best of them at that! I Imagine you’ll know what I mean when I tell you I feel like a ghost. I mean, I spend all of my time making sure my wife and kid are happy. I took a job that gave us access to one of the finest luxury hotels in America, and hopped on this damned wagon for them. Does anyone notice? Anyone thank or appreciate me?” Pause. “Exactly right, Floyd! Like I said, I’ve gotta be some kind of goddamned ghost for no one to notice me doing all of this. No, I’m not crazy, Floyd, I know that I’m no ghost. It’s just that she’s too damned busy giving me shit for something that happened two years ago! Something I already fucking hate myself for! And I do hate myself, Floyd, you can set your watch and warrant on that. I tell you, Floyd, it’s enough to drive a man to drink. And on that note...”, Jack pauses, reflective and drops the joke. “Stop being pathetic for once, Jack, and go check on your wife and son.”, Jack says to himself in a small, self-loathing voice. Before he can get up, though, Wendy calls out to him from behind. She’s at the Lounge’s entrance, holding the still-catatonic Danny’s hand. Jack says something, but Wendy can’t make it out. “What?”, she asks. “I didn’t hurt him!”, Jack yells. A shameful look appears on Wendy’s face. “I know, Jack, and…I’m sorry. I’m scared Jack…”, she says. Jack says he is too, and gets up from the bar to go to his wife and son. As Jack approaches, Danny comes out of his daze, and runs into his father’s arm, sobbing.

2:20 PM

The Torrances are gathered in the kitchen. Wendy has just made chocolate milk for Danny. When asked what happened, Danny tells his folks everything. About his powers, Dick’s own powers and warnings to Danny, and Tony’s warning him with visions. Jack asks why Danny took the key without permission, and Wendy looks annoyed that he would care about that given the situation. Danny says that he wanted to prove to himself that there was nothing the hotel could do to hurt them. “But, she was in there.” Danny then tells his concerned parents about the dead thing living inside Room 217. When Jack goes to check it out, he takes the elevator, and this causes Wendy to fret about it not being safe. Jack doesn’t pay her fears any attention.

2:32 PM

Jack enters Room 217, and finds it be in the same state it was in when Danny entered. He goes into the bathroom, where the light is off. After turning it on, he sees the curtain pulled around the tub. He pulls it back, and finds nothing but an empty tub. He sighs with relief at this. Cut to Jack closing the door to Room 217, and walking down the hallway. He’s stopped in his tracks when the doorknob begins to rattle furiously as if someone inside is trying desperately to get out. Then, the rattling stops, and we get a look at the fear on Jack’s face.

9:30 PM

Jack and Wendy are sitting at the end of their bed, Danny sleeping between where they’ll sleep. Their room is lit only by the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. Wendy says they need to get out of the Overlook ASAP, and Jack agrees. This said, he expresses fear over how they’ll survive after they get away without any money or job. Wendy says they’ll stay with her Mother’s, and they’ll both find work there somehow until they can get back on their feet. Jack looks worried, and Wendy, noticing this, says they have to get away if they want to be safe. Jack says that she’s right, and that he’ll go see the state of the hotel’s snowmobile being kept in the supply shed the following day.

November 12th, 1980, 8:15 AM

The screen is dark. Then light enters when Jack opens the door to the supply shed. He flicks the lights on, and we get a look at the shed’s contents. He pops the hood to the snowmobile to find a corroded battery. Jack searches the room for a box for the same type of battery. He finds one, but it is empty when he opens it. Jack, clearly upset, sets the box down on a work table. Jack turns the light off, leaving all in darkness once more. The light that enters the room when Jack leaves reveals the still-open box on the workbench, a new battery inside. The door shuts, and all is darkness once more.

Act III

November 25th, 1980, 4:30 PM

This scene shows Jack in the hotel’s guts, reading “The Life of The Overlook”. Cut to Wendy and Danny doing multiplication tables in Jack and Wendy’s room. The presence of Danny’s things in the room tells us that is also his room now. Cut to the empty Colorado Lounge. Cut to the door of Room 217. Cut to the topiary animals, half-buried in the snow with even more falling. The wind can be heard howling in every part of this scene except for Jack’s.

November 28th, 1980, 3:00 AM

Danny and Wendy are sleeping in the bed, Jack’s side showing that he’s gotten up. The sound of the elevator going up and down is audible. Danny wakes up, and shakes his Mother awake. The two of them go to find out what’s going on. They find Jack watching the elevator go up and down, in a daze. Wendy calls out to him, and he stirs, asking what she and Danny are doing up. Wendy asks what it is that he’s doing. Annoyed, Jack says he’s doing his job, and checking on the clearly malfunctioning elevator. Jack inserts a key into a panel, stopping the elevator. Wendy insists that he check the elevator’s interior for any passengers. He does, and finds an empty elevator. Dissatisfied, Wendy check herself, and finds confetti and masquerade masks strewn all about the elevator floor. She tosses a mask at Jack. “Does this look like nothing?!”

November 29th, 1980, 5:30 PM

Jack is standing in the bathroom of Room 217. The curtain is again drawn around the tub. He pulls it back to find a badly beaten woman lying in the empty tub. “Mom?”, he asks in a scared voice. His father speaks up from behind him. “Shut that bitch up good, didn’t I, Jacky Boy?”. Jack turns around. His father, a large, mustachioed man in bloodied scrubs, sits on the end of the bed inside the darkened Room 217. He’s holding a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his right hand. He takes a swig from it as Jack approaches. Jack is stunned and confused. There is a long, black cane with a golden sphere topping it next to his Dad on the bed. It’s covered in blood. “Yep, I had to reassert myself as the one in charge, Jacky. Had to give that bitch her medicine.” His father looks at Jack, and points at his son using the index-finger of his booze-holding hand. “That’s what you gotta do, Jacky, you gotta reassert yourself as th’ man in charge!” “Dad, I am the one in—” “SHUT THE FUCK UP, PUP, I AIN’T THROUGH! You don’t want to lose steam on that play of yours, do you, Jacky?” “No…” “You don’t want you and yours to scrounge around for food in th’ gargbage like a pack of rats, do you?” “No…” “You don’t want to leave the Overlook, do you?” Jack is quiet. “DO YOU?” “N-No, sir.” Jack’s father stands up from the end of the bed. He puts his hands on Jack’s shoulders. “Then you gotta be a man, Jacky. And how do you do that?” “Make them take their m-medicine.” “I can’t hear you, pup!” “They’ve gotta take their medicine!” Jack’s become visibly angry now. “Who does, boy?” “That bitch and her whining, little pup!” “Atta’ boy, Jacky! Here—“, Jack’s Father picks up the cane. When he gives it to Jack, though, it’s become a clean Roque mallet. “Go make ‘em take every last drop.” Jack leaves the room, mallet in tow, and finds Wendy and Danny having a picnic in the hallway. They look up at him, lovingly, and Jack prepares to swing. Jack wakes up in the Overlook’s guts, “The Life of The Overlook” in his lap, terrified. He cries. It as this point in the scene that the date and time are displayed.

December 1st, 1980, 9:30 PM

Danny is running down the blueback carpet hallways of the Overlook. The sound of screaming and of the thunderous impacts behind are all the sound that exists. We see a Roque mallet impacting the walls, denting holes in them, and splintering the mallet a little more with each impact. There’s blood on the mallet. Wendy is in the Torrance’s bedroom, blood running out of her mouth in a way that makes her look like some kind of puppet. The screen goes black again and “RED RUM” turns it red. The deserted Colorado lounge. The Torrance’s rooms’ door beginning to splinter and cave in from some pounding outside force. Cut back to the red screen with “MURDER” in black until the screen is as it was originally. The date December 2nd, 1980 in red. Danny wakes up in the bed next to Wendy. He looks to see Jack’s side is empty. Danny closes his eyes tightly. Cut to Dick Hallorann playing poker with some friends in Tampa, Florida. Dick is all smiles and laughs, and suddenly becomes serious. Intercut of scenes from Danny’s vision. Dick says he’s gotta go.

December 1st, 1980, 9:45 PM

Danny gets up out of bed, and goes out into the hallway. The hallway proves to be home to a drunk man in a dog costume, his mask in one hand. “Henry! Henry!!!” He leans his head back as he yells louder. This reveals an open, bleeding wound where his throat’s been slit. His voice becomes high and scratchy when his head is like this. “HENRY, COME OUT HERE, YOU BITCH!!!” He looks down, noticing Danny. Danny says for the man to get out of his way so that he can go see Jack. The dog-man grins. “I’m going to eat you, little boy!” He starts barking, actual dog barks coming out. Danny closes his eyes saying that this isn’t real. When he opens them, the dog-man is on his hands and knees. He is barking and growling now. He looks ready to pounce Danny, and the boy runs back into the hotel room. He curls into a ball next to his Mom, looking at her.

10:00 PM

Jack is relieving the Overlook’s boiler. After he does so, he hears music playing, and leaves to investigate. Inside the Colorado Lounge, there’s a party on. There are people masquerading in themed masks. There are prostitutes fucking party-guests. There’s mobsters talking business. There’s a big band playing “No Sugar Tonight/New Mother Nature”. At the bar is Floyd. Jack has a bemused look on his face as he makes his way through all of this. Jack takes the seat right in front of Floyd. “It’s been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of your company, Mr. Torrance.”, Floyd greets him. “That’s right, Floyd, but I’m back.” “What will it be, sir?” Jack puts on an exaggerated expression of contemplation. “Make it a Martian, Floyd.” “Right away, sir.” “That’s why you’re the best of them, Floyd, you don’t judge or nag.” “I’ve no time for wagon-talk, Sir.” “People could learn a lot from you, Floyd. My bitch of a wife, for example. You should’ve seen the hate in her eyes when I’d get home from the bar. Used to think it was only there when I got drunk, but I know now it’s always there whenever I’m having a good time.” “How do you know that, Sir?” “Because she’s had it since we got here!” Jack laughs, and Floyd smiles. “And why does she hate for you to be happy, Sir?” “Because of that damned pup! That disobedient little welp’s lucky that I didn’t break both of his arms!” Floyd places Jack’s martini in front of him. Jack takes it, smiling. Before he can drink it, though, Floyd speaks up. “About your son, sir, The Manager has taken a particular interest in him.” “D-Danny? What’s he got to do with the Overlook? I’m the one The Manager should be interested in, I’m the caretaker.” Floyd gives him a deadly serious look. “Do you presume to know better than The Manager, Mr. Torrance?” Jack looks behind himself, and finds that the party guests and band are all now nothing more than skeletons in bloody tatters. He turns back to Floyd, and says, “No…I guess I don’t.” He jack hammers the martini, and the party starts again. A new martini is already waiting for him by the time he sets his glass down.

11:45 PM

Danny, still curled and watching Wendy, the sounds outside consist of the dog-man talking about fucking Henry in the ass until he bleeds. Danny is crying quietly.

11:47 PM

Jack now has several empty martini glasses before him. “Floyd, I have got to take a piss.” Jack gets up, his latest martini in hand, and walks through the party. The band is playing “Midnight, The Stars, and You”. Jack stumbles, dropping his drink. He’s cursing himself when he looks up to find a thuggish looking waiter. The waiter offers him a drink. Despite the man’s appearance, he has a very dignified British accent. The waiter is about to depart when Jack notices his name-tag. “You’re Delbert Grady?” “Yes, Sir.” “No, no, you’re not.” “I beg you pardon, Sir?” “Delbert Grady was the last caretaker. He chopped his wife and two girls up with an axe before filling his skull with buckshot.” “I do have a wife and two girls, but I’ve certainly not murdered them. They’re sleeping in their beds right now, actually.” “I see…” “As for this business about being the previous caretaker, I’ve never been the caretaker, sir. I’m a waiter. You are the caretaker, Mr. Torrance. You’ve always been the caretaker.” “Riiight.” “I did have some trouble with my wife and the girls some time ago, Sir. They’d decided they wanted to leave the Overlook. I explained things to them, though, reasserted myself as the man in charge and all that. Now they love the Overlook. Now, they call it home. That’s what you need to do, Sir. Reassert yourself. Deal with Wendy’s doubt. Rid Daniel of his disobedience. He could be something great, Sir. The Manager thinks as much, but you mustn’t spare the rod.” Jack slurs in agreement. “Enjoy the party, Mr. Torrance.” Cut to Jack washing his face in the bathroom sink. As he look at his wet face in the mirror, the party-goers outside chant “Unmask! Unmask!” Jack exits the bathroom, and finds the lounge as it had been the last time he’d been there: empty. He’s confused. “Floyd! Grady!” He sees that there’s still booze stocked behind the bar. He walks over to the bar. “Fine! I’ll get it myself!” He tries to slide over the bar, and ends up blacked out on the floor behind it.

December 2nd, 1980 2:30 AM

Dick Hallorann arrives in Colorado. He exits the airport wearing clothes that are considerably more appropriate giving the weather condtions, and hails a cab. He goes out to the rangers’ station. There’s only one man at the station due to the late hour. Dick tells the man that he knows that there’s something bad going on up at the Overlook. When the man doesn’t believe him, Dick tells him to try CB-ing to prove everything is okay. After this fails, the man says that Dick can use the station’s snowmobile, and that he can bring the Torrances to his house if there’s something bad going on up there. Dick heads out for the Overlook, the man waving him off in the distance.

3:00 AM

The next has Wendy waking up to the crying, scared Danny. She asks him what’s wrong. “It’s Daddy! The hotel broke him, and he’s been drinking all night! The hotel wants him to hurt us, Mommy!” Wendy pulls her son close to him, her expression initially overwhelmed before becoming determined and protective. Cut to Wendy leaving the room, a pocket knife slid up her sleeve. She walks to the Colorado Lounge. She calls out to Jack. There’s a groaning noise. She goes over to the bar, and, when she gets behind it, Jack’s struggling to get up. He’s apologizing to her. Wendy continues to approach him, cautiously, and Jack, moving quicker than he seemed capable of, grabs her by the ankle. “Sorry you’re such a stupid bitch!!!” He yanks her down to the floor, and climbs on top of her. He punches her in the face repeatedly, busting her lip and nose. She kicks him in the groin, and pushes him off of her while he reacts. Using the pocket knife, she stabs him in his left thigh. Wendy scrambles to her feet, and runs off. Jack pulls the knife out of his thigh, cursing Wendy all the while, and gets up to chase her. As he’s running after her down the hall, he sees Floyd, whose holding a Roque mallet out of him. Jack takes it from the phantom with a “Thank ya’, Floyd!” Jack starts bashing the wall with the mallet. We cut to Wendy hearing the bashing, and Jack’s declarations that she’ll take her goddamned medicine. She runs into the kitchen, and Jack follows her. He yells and slurs about how he knows that she’s in there. He’s walking around the kitchen, slightly splintered mallet at the ready, when Wendy pops out near where the pots and pans hang, and stabs a kitchen knife deep into his back.

3:30 AM

This scene shows Dick on the snowmobile, still on his way to the Overlook. The building is becoming visible in the far distance, and Dick’s travelling speed is a steady one. His headlight starts blinking on and off. A topiary lion appears in the distance, just on the edge headlight’s range. The lion appears closer with every time that the light goes out until Dick crashes trying to swerve out of its path. His snowmobile is on its side, the lion trapped in the steady headlight beam. Dick’s getting up out of the snow when the blinking starts again. The lion turns, and begins to head for him. Dick struggles, but manages to get the snowmobile upright. He starts for the Overlook again, the sound of a beast chasing behind.

3:37 AM

Wendy is still standing in shock over stabbing her husband. Jack slowly rises behind her, the knife handle sticking out of his back, blood staining the back of his shirt. “You bitch! You’ve killed me!” Wendy tries to run, but Jack hits her left side with the mallet, right in the ribs. Wendy goes down, taking a few pots and pans with her. Jack brings the mallet back down on her right leg. While he’s leaned down from the swing, Wendy smashes his face with one of the pots. While Jack’s still reeling, Wendy gets to her feet, and hurriedly limps away from him. Jack limps after her, shouting about how he’s going to bash her brains in. While she’s running, the dog-man tackles her. He’s got an already bloody straight razor, and starts slashing wildly at her. During their struggle, Jack’s yelling gets steadily louder. She throws the dog-man off of her, the costume becomes tattered and the man a skeleton during the cut to its impacting against a hall wall. Wendy barely manages to get to her feet in time to remain ahead of Jack. He’s close behind, though, and Wendy only barely makes it to their bedroom. Danny’s gone. She screams out for him, but there’s no answer. She stops when she hears Jack beating the door in. She runs into the bathroom, and grabs the razor blades. Back in the room, the door starts to give. Wendy is ready. The now quite splintered and jagged mallet bursts through, and Jack moves to unlock the door through the hole. “No where left to run now, you cunt!!!” Wendy slices at his hand and arm, drawing blood. “You bitch!”, Jack growls after pulling lack and seeing the injuries. He’s about to start again when he notices Grady. “There is an outsider who wishes to ruin our party, Sir.” With that, Jack lurches off to the lobby. Wendy, meanwhile, passes out once the adrenaline stops flowing.

3:45 AM

Dick Hallorann stumbles through the doors of the Overlook’s lobby. Snow covered and exhausted. He yells out for Danny and Wendy. He’s progressing further into the hotel when Jack bashes him in the face with the Roque mallet. Dick crumples to the floor, unconscious. Wild eyed, Jack starts yelling for Danny, and runs off into a direction to hunt for Danny. He’s running through the nonsense halls of the Overlook when he hears Danny yell, “I’m right here!” Jack charges after the boy, yelling all of the things from Danny’s visions. Grady, looking as he did after killing his family with axe and all, appears in Danny’s way, but Danny banishes him with a wave of the arm and declaration, “False face!” Jack’s bashing the wall with the jagged thing that used to be a Roque mallet. Jack chases Danny on and on, not realizing his son is leading him. They run through the kitchen, and end up outside. They both stop their running. The snow is falling thick, and building on them fast. Danny turns to face Jack. “Why are you running?”, Jack asks in a calm, dazed voice. “I’m not running. I’m just not scared of you.” “That’s no way for a boy to speak to his father. Come along, now, we’re missing the party.” “You’re not my Father. You’re just wearing him to your stupid masquerade party.” Jack gives with an evil, bitter smile. “I’m Jack Torrance, alright. I’ve got the two birth marks and pecker to prove it! Just ask your Mother.” He begins moving for Danny, but is stopped cold by what Danny says next. “I know you’re not my Dad because he would’ve remembered to check on the boiler!” Jack drops the mallet, his eyes go wide, and he runs back into the hotel. Danny closes his eyes, and we cut to the sleeping Wendy, then to Hallorann. The two of them get up, in a daze, and begin heading out of the hotel. They meet Danny, and come out of their daze, confused. Danny says they need to hurry, that the hotel is going to explode soon.

4:00 AM

Jack reaches the guts of the Overlook. It’s full of steam, and the boiler is rattling. Jack puts his hands on the wheel to cool the boiler. He looks ready to turn the wheel, but stops. His eyes become clear for the first time since he entered the Colorado Longue. Jack takes his hands off of the wheel, and backs away calmly despite the chaos of the situation. Jack sits down, knees drawn to his chest, and tears begin to fall from his eyes. He buries his face in his arms. Cut to the outside of the Overlook. An explosion destroys part of the building. The fire catches to the rest of it despite the snow. The smoke should look like a manta ray for a frame of the scene.

May 13th, 1988, 5:30 PM

A class of students are gathered on a football field, donned in blue robes and hats. Down in the sea of blue robes, an 18-year-old Dan Torrance, wearing glasses, sits quietly. The principal’s voice calls out for, “Daniel Anthony Torrance”. Dan gets up, and retrieves his diploma. After he’s returned to his seat, he looks, smiling to the bleachers. In the bleachers where the families are seated, Wendy Torrance, hair now cut short and a cane in her hand, and Dick Hallorann, older with long-healed facial scars on the side of his face the mallet hit him, sit in the bleachers, smiling back at him. Down in the shadows, is a sharply-dressed Jack Torrance. Tears fall from Dan’s eyes, and he blinks them away. After he does, his father is gone.

#Stephen King #stephenking #the shining #jack torrance #wendy torrance #Danny torrance #Dan torrance #the overlook hotel #red rum #redrum #murder #horror #scary #novel #literature #movies #film

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cc-sketchbook · 7 years

Text

I don’t normally write fanfiction but I was inspired by a post by @riathedreamer which is located here

Title: “Margarita” Author: Chaos Child Fandom: Red vs Blue Characters: Simmons & Grif Pairings: Grimmons? A little fluff? Warnings: Pg13 for the most part, drinking (obviously), language, nothing really beyond the scope of what the show contains. If there is something you think needs to be put in warnings let me know and I’ll add it. Notes: None really other than this is unbeta’d. Enjoy! :D

”Margarita” by Chaos Child In retrospect, that probably wasn't a margarita.

Not that Simmons had ever had a margarita.

Not to say of course that he'd never drank before! Because he had! He had! He'd nicked some stuff from his parents when he was in his rebellious teen phase, he'd knocked back a beer or two with Grif when they were off-duty. And on-duty... that one time. ONE TIME! Okay!?...… Okay, more than one. He'd just never had a margarita before now, they were all fruity and stuff, right? And that was associated with girls, right? Or was that martinis? Either way best not to risk it. No reason to purposefully invite mockery and humiliation...

But, yeah... Yeah, that probably wasn't a margarita, at least not a normal one. Or maybe it was... But Grif had said... He'd said, that since they were here in the Vegas Quadrant they should do something fun, something silly or stupid so they could have a good laugh about it. It had taken a fair bit of whining and several "but Simmoooons"s for him to give in and tell Grif to "just get me whatever." from the overly colorful bar. Sure enough, in almost no time at all, the Hawaiian had returned with a nearly picturesque bright red margarita, and a... something, in an overly tall glass, an almost glowing neon blue beverage, topped with different kinds of fruit, including pineapple (because of fucking course), and a red crazy straw. Exactly the sort of thing Surge would never approve of. So in other words, perfect for Grif.

Yeah, in retrospect he probably shouldn't have trusted anything his teammate had brought him, a little voice reminded him. Not that he was paying attention to it. Like at all. Because yeah. Yeah. He was buzzed.

More than buzzed.

Buzzed was an understatement.

He was fucking HYPER!

"Grif, Griiiiiiiiiff!" Oh wow was that whining him? Did he really sound like that? That was hilarious!

Simmons broke into a fit of giggles.

"Grif! Hey, fat-ass!"

"Jesus Simmons, what?" said fat-ass finally answered, failing to hold back his own laughter.

"Let's go do something!"

Grif grinned, "Like what?"

"I don't knooooow!" Simmons warbled, "Just something! Something I can do! ‘Cause, 'm, 'cause oh my god I'm so charged man!"

"I dun know... I was kind of thinking I'd hit the buffet, then maybe catch some z's." That was probably sarcasm, but what if it wasn't?!

"No!" Simmons gasped, with a scandalized drama that would have made Donut proud, and crouched to match Grif's eye level.

No, too far. Closer. Wait, no, that was the table. Oh, yeeeeeaaah, they were still in the bar weren't they? For an all too brief moment of clarity he realized how stupid he must look, practically kneeling on the likely filthy floor, peering over the edge of the table like a child, pleadingly, at his still seated and probably nowhere near as drunk teammate.

"Grif?" he asked, quietly, an abrupt gearshift from his previous mood. "Grif, am I weird?"

"Absolutely." came the immediate reply.

The cyborg whined mournfully and looked down at the floor. He'd messed up somehow, hadn't he? And now he was weird again, and no one would be his friend and he was gonna be all alone and he didn't know where anything was and he just wanted to go do something! And-

"Hey." Simmons nearly smacked his face on the edge of the table as he was suddenly pat on the head, "Let's go," the red head grinned in delight at his compatriot. "don't know when you'll actually want to go do something fun again, better take advantage now."

"Yes!" Simmons leaped to his feet, oh wow he could just hug Grif! So he did! Kind of. It was closer to falling onto, but with more standing involved. "We can't do the dukes of hazard thing though, at least I don't think, cause they'll get mad. Plus we don't have a warthog..."

Grif laughed, "Yeah, nah, don't worry, this is the Vegas Quadrant, there's plenty of shit to do here."

"Yeah! Yeah, let's go do some stuff!"

So they did.

There was a comedy show, which was hysterical, Simmons couldn't remember laughing that hard in a long time. He'd been good too! Like really good, he hadn't shouted or corrected the comedian at all! Even though he wanted to, his bit about Star Trek had been completely wrong, like utterly wrong. Probably hadn't even watched the series at all. Poser.

He'd ended up bouncing his leg a lot though, probably too much, cause Grif had noticed, and suggested they go do something that involved walking, but not too much. "Enough so that you don't explode or something."

It had taken some pleading and the promise of the existence of benches but Grif finally agreed to the aquarium. Because maybe he was drunk enough to be nostalgic for home? Hawaii had lots of oceans and shit, right? He thought it did. He'd never been to Hawaii.

At least Grif seemed to be having fun watching Simmons from the aforementioned benches as he bounced around in front of the large display tanks, babbling out what he knew about the marine life inside. Most of it was probably even true! And didn't that fish look just like Caboose? A Sail Fish! Or Sale fish? Sael? Sun Fish? Ocean Sunfish? That big stupid one that ate jellyfish and had about as much brain power as a rock. That one.

Grif chose after that, which was really only fair after all, and they ended up in a retro style arcade. The sign on the outside declared that it was an "Adult Arcade" but all this apparently meant was that they served booze inside and had "M" rated fighting games rather than having more... unsavory sorts of things. Something to which Grif voiced a mild displeasure before dragging Simmons to said nearest fighting game.

It was totally the alcohol in his system that made it easy for Grif to wipe the floor with him, he was just too jittery, too hyper. It made it hard to sit still. It was absolutely not because he was total shit at them. Fuck off!

He turned it around at the dancing game though! Which was great because he was pretty sure he also sucked at dancing. Or didn't. Or was too self-conscious? Or something. Probably was because Grif was too out of shape to dance more than a few songs. But did DDR really count as dancing, really? A mystery that might never be solved...

And there was that crane game too! They got kicked out for that, or well, asked to leave, probably, maybe, hard to tell because he kind of wasn't paying attention. Cause Grif had snorted at it when they walked by, something about it being a ripoff, and he'd agreed but pointed out that if you knew how to do it you could totally win whatever you wanted, was just all about math and shit, and Grif had said “prove it.” and so he did! Just had to know how to talk to the machine, with math! Cuz see they were sort of related, cause he was part robot... cyborg! He was a cyborg! So yeah! And then Grif just started pointing to all the ones he wanted and so he just kept winning them, and then some guys came over and Grif started arguing with them or something, again, not really paying attention, he was too busy lining up the claw at juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust the perfect angle to snag that crazy fluffy pink, (light-ish red) bunny, that totally looked like Donut, maybe, if Donut was a rabbit, but the point was-!

Then they were outside, like outside, and Grif was hefting a bag full of all the stuffed things Simmons had won and grumbling something about the people who owned the place being a “bunch of greedy assholes”. Least they got to keep the prizes. It would have been so sad if they didn't. How would the Donut Bunny get home to the not Bunny Donut? It was like all those movies with the dogs who get lost and go like a million miles and learn to play piano just to make it home to the little white bread suburban child who loved them.

That would be later though because NOW, they were in the park, a park, a playground, at like a school or something? Kind of weird, but made sense. People who worked here probably had kids, kids needed to go to school, so they could grow up to be model members of society, and probably alcoholics, who knew way too much about math and how pi worked and shit, and they probably had space dogs too.

Grif was on the swing, one of them, watching as Simmons sort of wobbled along, trying to walk on his hands, he was mostly succeeding, except gravity was all weird so he kept falling over. With a sigh he gave up, well took a break, Reds never surrendered, he told Grif this.

“If you say so dude.” the larger man chuckled, peering downwards at him, swinging slightly back and forth.

Simmons hummed, looking up at the night sky, a few meager stars straining to be seen against the astounding amount of light pollution, head still swimming pleasantly, but the crazy manic energy high or whatever, seemed to be maybe wearing off now. Perhaps? He felt kind of floaty, maybe a bit sleepy? The grass was surprisingly comfortable. For lab designed genetically modified grass anyway. Perfect science grass. Perfect in every way. Not like him though.

The cyborg raised a wobbly metal hand in front of his face, probably too far out, looked like he was maybe trying to grab one of those sad flickering stars, trying so hard to be seen in the sky, not like the grass at all. He told Griff that too.

He got a 'hum' in reply.

“Hey... Hey, Griff?” Simmons asked.

“Yeah?”

“I'm a mess...” he blinked slowly in the silence, in a weird sort of way, where it took his artificial eye a few millionths of a second to catch up to the human one or was it the other way around? He probably looked drunk. Probably was drunk, probably. “We're a mess.” he corrected.

“Yeah, but hey, whatcha gonna do?”

“Fix it?”

Griff burst out laughing, “Like what? Like are you asking me to fix it? Or are you just saying someone should fix it?”

Simmons rolled a little bit more onto his side facing his... his um... “Hey, Grif? Are we-” Teammates? Companions? Buddies? Friends? Lo- “-Losers? Can you fix that?” Fix me?

“I don't know? I guess you only really 'fix' that by like practicing things and shit? Too much trouble most of the time. Sometimes you just stay a loser no matter what you do. But who cares? If you're a loser you don't gotta do shit, no one expects anything of you so you never get asked to do things you don't want to do. Better that way.” Grif said, somehow forming a suitable answer to what would not have passed as an actual question in most circles. Which they were not.

“Am I boring?”

“Nah, only like... 40% of the time.”

Simmons grinned stupidly, “Oh good, that's less than half!”

A comfortable silence fell over them for a couple of minutes.

“Grif?”

“Yes?”

“I had fun.”

“Good.”

“I'll probably be mortified tomorrow though. We can never go back here, you know that right?”

Grif snorted, “We? Not just you?”

Simmons' brow furrowed, “As though you'd ever come here without me. You totally won't ever go alone, and who else would you take?”

“Tucker?” Griff offered seriously, before immediately breaking the facade at Simmons' baleful glare laughing, and really wasn't that just the best sound? “Fuck, who am I kidding? Tucker is an asshole.” He made a face, “And weirdly into my sex life, really into it, it's creepy, weird as fuck.”

“I know riiiiiight?” Simmons warbled, Tucker was so fucking weird, probably morally bipolar with how he seemed to flit back and forth between attempting to be a decent guy and a literal pile of trash. And he knew being bipolar didn't work that way! It was a metaphor okay!? He was drunk alright?! Though less so now maybe, drunk enough to know he was drunk.

“Oi, are you falling asleep down there?” Grif called down to Simmons after a couple of unresponsive minutes.

“No.” Simmons tittered back, “Might not be so bad though, grass is comfy.” he frowned, scrunching his face in a way that might have been cute if it was on a child and not a full grown man. “I think I'm starting to crash...” He tried to roll over again and only partially succeeded, arms flopped oddly in front of and behind him, “I'm so fucked uuuup.”

He heard the rattle of a chain and then saw the slightly blurred shape of Grif's shoes in front of him.

“I've known that since the literal second I met you dude.” the shoes' owner snickered, crouching down a bit to poke his teammate's head with a finger, “No passing out, if you're gonna do that then we're going back to the hotel. Probably should anyway, I think it's like 4 am.”

“4 am? I've only heard about that in hushed whispers and legends!” Simmons said with a dopey grin, earlier melancholy forgotten. He tried to sit up but instead flopped a bit on the grass while Grif continued to laugh at him.

He squinted again, this time at the semi blurry image of his teammate, not like, 'I can't tell what that is any more' level of blur, but like, '60's sci-fi Vaseline on lens' kind of blurry. Was oddly pleasing, in an aesthetic sort of way. Word salad sort of way. Train of thought sort of way. That lead to other thoughts, and other trains, that went to places he wasn't really sure he wanted to think about at the moment. Mostly because he couldn't remember where he was going with that.

“Grif. Be my legs.”

“No.”

“But I gave you my leeeeeeeeeeg, and my lungs, and an arm, and most of my other organs and some skin.” He gave Grif a far too serious and also far too stupid glare, “Grif.” he said, like a revelation, like an accusation, “I gave you my heart.” How DARE you, Sir!

It took about five seconds of awkward and yet somehow hysterical silence before they both burst out laughing. Laughing so hard that Grif was actually holding his sides and gasping “It hurts it hurts!” while Simmons made noises that to an outside view probably sounded a bit disturbing as his artificial lungs (or the assortment of crap that passed for them) tried to figure out what their owner wanted them to do.

“Okay, okay you win. I can't argue with that.” Griff finally managed to choke out, swaying a bit up to his feet, reaching out to grab Simmons hand and haul him up. “I'm not carrying you though, you can lean on me but that's it.”

Simmons wobbled dangerously, vision fucking off with his sense of balance for a moment when he suddenly became upright.

“I agree to these terms.” he said dramatically, somewhat flinging himself into the offered arm, tossing his own over Grif's shoulders as gravity gave a valiant but thankfully futile attempt at taking him down again.

“Okay, so now we just gotta make it a couple blocks, I think, to the main road, then we can get a cab. Cause fuck if we're walking to the hotel.”

“Oh my god Grif what if we get mugged!” Simmons suddenly tittered, causing them both to sway until Grif directed him back into walking in the right direction.

“No one is gonna mug us dude,” Grif lightly shook the bag of prizes Simmons had 100% forgotten about, “bunch of stuffed animals? We probably look weird as hell. Probably get arrested more like if they found us at the playground.”

“Noooo,” Simmons wailed dramatically, flinging his free arm around Grif, allowing his feet to drag, “Griff no, I don't wanna go to jaaaail.”

“We're not going to jail either man, chill.” his teammate chided, aww, not funny then, “And let go, this is dangerously close to carrying, I will drop you.”

“You suck.”

“Suck Dick!”

“...What?”

“You heard- nothing! You heard me.”

Grif raised a thick eyebrow but didn't comment further, which really was for the best.

It didn't take long to get a cab once they got back to a busier part of town, at least Simmons didn't remember it taking long, but who was he to say? He'd been right before about crashing, all the manic energy he'd had before was gone at this point, and he was all but out like a light when Grif finally got the door to their room open.

He managed to make it to the nearest bed without planting face first into the floor. Small mercies.

“Oi!” he dimly heard from the doorway as he plopped onto the mattress, “That's my bed man, I called it when we got here.”

“Don't care,” was the muffled response, “Go sleep in the other one. 'm tired...”

“No way, I called dibs, you think I won't just sleep there any way you're fucking wrong.”

“Don't care.”

Simmons distantly felt the mattress move as Grif made good on his word and flopped down on the other side of the bed. Really though, who cared? The bed was big enough. One nice thing about military paid vacations, first class, all the way.

“Wow, you're really out of it huh?”

“Mmmm hmm...” Oh, before he forgot.

“Grif?”

“I'm not moving dude, this is my bed.”

“No, no, no.” He mumbled, “Need a favor.”

“Oh careful what you ask for, might cost you.” he could practically hear the grin in Grif's voice

“That's fine,” Simmons replied, wouldn't be that bad Grif was mostly just talk, probably want like a box of hohos or something, “See that?” he limply flung a hand in the general direction of where he assumed Grif had put the bag of prizes.

“The lamp...?” Grif asked in confusion, “it's already off man, what you need it on? Scared of the dark?”

“No,” Simmons flopped his other arm, “The bunny. Pink one.”

“What about it?”

“Mail that to Donut in the morning for me.”

“And I have to do it because?”

“Because sober me won't do it. You know how Donut can get, so I won't do it, but I still think he'd like it.”

“Yeah, he wouldn't.” Grif agreed, “But I don't want Donut thinking it's from me either.”

“No, you can put my name on it, just know I'll wuss out on mailing it back. Don't want people to think things.”

Probably another eyebrow raise, “Things?”

“Embarrassing things... Don't want people thinking I'm weird.”

“Uh, huh... Well if that's what you want. I'll think of a way you can pay me back later unless you freaking out afterward is funny enough.”

Simmons grunted softly as he felt a friendly pat on his back, burrowing his face into the pillow. “'S fair.”

He yawned, hearing Grif's own not long after.

“...Hey, Grif...?”

“... Yeah...?”

“I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“Night Grif.”

“Night.”

END

#red vs blue #grif #simmons #grimmons #fanfiction #writing #hope you guys enjoy!

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