Tumgik
#she does think the methods to find these “witches is quite funny
amoritasart · 2 months
Text
Idk if anyone here has expressed something similar before, but I like the idea of Evelyn simply not… caring that Caleb is a witch hunter. And she’s not really concerned about the hangings either. She knows these aren’t real witches. In fact, she finds those nights with the whole mob get their pitchforks and fires quite fascinating. Is it some sort of ritual? A ceremonial sacrifice? A cultural thing? Who knows, but witches have similar antics back home (some villages it was socially acceptable to eat babies), who is she to judge?
It was Caleb who took the initiative to change. He saw people he trusted and maybe even loved be accused and be meet with a horrid fate. He thought I know they didn’t deserve that, if they were even witches at all. And then he met Evelyn and realized that there were no witches on Earth. And that was the final confirmation that he needed to realize that he didn’t want a part in this at all.
16 notes · View notes
magicalgirlagency · 4 months
Note
Whats your thoughts on Mami Tomoe in general? I dont like PMMM but Mami does interest me alot as a character concept: a veteran MG who took other, younger MGs under her wings to guide them; whom sees enough shits in her time that shes gone somewhat unstable but keep up a facade of cheerfulness to comfort her students. Im intending to create a character using this concept as well.
I wanted my character to have her Happy Ending - the rest of her younger teammates as well. I think it'd be rather ironic to base her on a dark MG while she belongs to a lighhearted Magical girl story. Shes still in a vague designing state, with a concept and some basic traits and backstory. I wanted to her to be a MG veteran who saw some serious shits during her younger days too, but with help from her mascot (who is not the bad guy in this story) and eventually the MGs whom shes teaching, shes healing from her past traumas and is on the road to a beautiful future.
I know there are other MGs from other shows that are good mentors for their team, but weirdly enough Mami was the first one who introduce me to this concept (PMMM was also the one to introduce me to the Maho Shojo gerne, but I dont like it so I evetually follow Pretty Cure instead, best choice ive ever made) so shes the one I pick to base my character on. Mostly for the ironic part.
I absolutely adore her. I even had a sideblog entirely dedicated to her back when this account got temporarily deleted, just to have any idea of how much I loved her. Heck, one of my self-inserts was inspired by her, too.
One of the many reasons why I love Mami could dial back to Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon's Kino Makoto/Sailor Jupiter. A strong yet sensitive girl who has lost her parents on a tragic accident and now craves the feeling of a family with the friends she makes.
Tumblr media
Mami is indeed a fascinating character herself, and I think her death, while understandably haunting the narrative afterwards at least, was very disrespectful (she died in the span of ONE episode! Right after she debuted!) and the jokes that were relentlessly cracked by everyone and their mother for 10+ years are not funny at all.
Imagine if I were to crack jokes about Flapjack's death. You guys wouldn't like them, would you?
Tumblr media
No, you guys wouldn't like them. It'd be cruel and done in bad taste.
Anyways, back to Mami...
She's the cool and experienced onee-san/senpai type of character, approachable and friendly; she's skilled and graceful, plus with an epic theme tune to boot. Of course, her calm and collected persona is just a mask that hides how terribly lonesome and scared she is. To quote Bebe in The Rebellion Story:
"Mami is a real crybaby. She gets lonely super-easy; I know, I know."
Homura's description is more in-depth, though:
"She would always put on a strong front and push herself too hard, despite having the softest heart of any of us."
This vulnerability of hers is more explored in Magia Record, though. She joins the Wings of Magius so she could help in finding a cause to save her friends from despairing and becoming Witches, as she feels guilty for dragging them into such a hostile world.
Except that the WoM's methods were very cultish, thus causing her to be brainwashed and used as a puppet, distance herself from the ones she was supposed to guide and protect, and when she'd be challenged by outsiders, she'd quickly lose her cool.
Tumblr media
Turns out that no matter the timeline/universe, Tomoe Mami will always be the first one to crack at the revelation.
Tumblr media
And I like that, because it makes her morally grey, which it's something quite rare in the Magical Girl genre. She wants to save her friends, but she has participated in dangerously unorthodox methods to achieve such an end.
Anyways, I've been rambling about Mami for too long, that I've forgotten your concept. Sorry! Your idea is amazing! My followers having galaxy-brained suggestions, as always!
10 notes · View notes
staticl0ve · 1 year
Note
HIIIIII STATIC I LOVE YOU SM!!!!!! FOR ASK THINGy THING: 3, 9, 16,18 AND a question I’ve got separate.
Whether for a one-shot or a multi chapter fic, what story of yours (if all were possible) would you like a sequel for? And why?
I LOVE YOU!!! ♥️🧡💛💚💙💜
BABY GIRL. I love you. You’re amazing. You’re sunshine on a light breezy day: the warmth, the necessary vitamin d it provides, and the light the flowers all follow.
3) What fic of yours do you think is underrated?
If we’re talking hits…maybe Sunflower. I wrote it in less than 48 hours and it’s fairly short but I was inspired to write something for @dattebae before she started TMG. If anything: I wish I had spent more time building up the angst eheh.
For actual underrated cause I lowkey loved the premise: Baby, it’s Cold Outside. Connor as Vision and the reader as a Scarlet Witch type seemed like such a fun AU since there aren’t too many superhero AUs. I tend to write AUs since I get so tired of the cop coworker dynamic and there’s only so much sad homicide/drug cases I wanna explore in writing. As for this story: I really liked making Connor feel like Vision by channeling the awkward android from when canon when he meets Hank at the bar and finds him at the precinct.
9) Do you visualize scenes in your head before you write them? (Can you picture the setting, character body language etc)
Oh yeah! For sure. I’m a super visual person and it’s more I struggle with finding different ways to build a scene and I’ve been trying to picture the words as the lens of a camera. Like describing rain: how else can I say it’s raining? Is it water dripping down rooftops, puddles, cold piercing water droplets on skin or the sound of it? Things like car rides from The Pig and the Fox.
Streetlights passed by, distant orbs of gold stretching and fading across his cheekbones like falling stars over freckled constellations.
At this point I’m running out of ideas on how to describe lights on faces LMAO. I can see it in my head but it’s so different trying to find a way to say it that has some impact in the story. The chapter’s titled ‘Gravity’ there was a little paragraph about rocks trapped in orbit and how gravitational pulls would make it fall to Earth so I thought it was kinda nice to tie all these space themes together. (Also so cliche to call his freckles constellations but it’s also so fun.)
16) Do you have a method for getting characters to sound/feel in character?
I can always hear Sixty’s voice and that’s because it’s lowkey half of the shit I’d say that and it’s so easy to write a fumbling, idiot that’s funny.
Connor: when I first started writing, I’d listen to the movie cuts of the game cause I had no idea how to write him. Now: I try to hear his voice when I write a line and edit it to death if it doesn’t sound quite like him. He swears, he does use abbreviations but there is a formality to how he talks and it’s so hard balancing that.
Nines. Well. For the human AU: I pictured Henry Cavill’s characters LOL. Someone standoffish, cold, occasionally lets out a one liner that makes one do a double take and hot as hell. For android Nines: I try to make him arrogant and stubborn (in his mind: he’s always right). I know there’s fanon where he’s just this awkward, stiff, unfunny wall of a man and that’s definitely a valid approach but I find him more charming to have him experience: hot, perfect, white boy who’s never struggled a day in his life finally goes through the emotional wringer.
18) What's the most obscure thing you've researched for a fic?
For The Boy Next Door, or Nines’ story: You Drive Me Crazy, I had to look how what I thought would be frats for Harvard and learned they’re too fancy for that lmao! They have “finals clubs” and I actually looked into which one I thought Nines and Luther would join by reading on the list of the top most ones and Jfc this was all for TWO PARAGRAPHS of setup lmao. I felt so silly doing it but it made me happy to have that in there.
If you were curious: I picked Spee Club cause it seemed the most chill. But if I’m being honest: I judged them by the alumni LMAO. This one had the Kennedy’s and I figured: yeah that sounds like a good fit. But mostly the mascot is a bear and I felt in my heart that Luther would just be so amused by it.
21. Whether for a one-shot or a multi chapter fic, what story of yours (if all were possible would you like a sequel for? And why?
Dancing with the Devil. This one because I always wished I expanded more on the weird human only secret society the baddie made. I dunno if it’d be a sequel, but I wish I had written more for the story. The first chapter is SOOO short but it was the second fic I’d ever written and at the time 1kish words was enough for a chapter. I’d love to have lengthened the playful “enemies” to lovers so that there would have been more room for tension.
So not quite a sequel (although I do have a very sad/angsty one that I never wrote…) but a wish to rewrite it one day or maybe do a spin off.
5 notes · View notes
rosaliepostsstuff · 3 years
Text
Chapter 1 - Of quidditch, detentions and birthdays
Tumblr media
series masterlist
tag list for this series:  @weasleysbees​ all George fics: @hufflepuff5972​
if you’d like to be added, send a DM or an ask
warnings: swearing, mentions of wounds, slight mention of food, alcohol drinking
word count: 1823
a/n: hope it’s a nice opening that will keep you interested and give you the feel of the whole series;  we couldn’t have a fic taking place during ootp without a classic detention with umbridge sorry
I’d love to know what you think about it!
Tumblr media
—————①—————
Quidditch. You were decent on a broomstick, but the catching and throwing part has never been your strong suit. The summer sun was blazing hot, not helping you focus on the game. Suddenly Ron took a shot at one of the makeshift posts, the quaffle was speeding in your direction and you panicked slightly – lost your balance on the broomstick and dangled upside down. As you grasped the stick for dear life, the ball hit you square in the forehead, knocking you out.
“Ha-ha-ha,” you mocked George who was wheezing with laughter beside you. “That was years ago. Besides, it’s called the sloth-grip roll, you’re just not on that level yet” “No-no it was brilliant – you saved the game, you just weren’t there to see it anymore,” he tried to regain his composure.
You sighed and shook your head with a small smile. He gave you a wide grin and draped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to his side.
You were watching the try-outs together, not really paying attention until it was Ron’s turn. In the distance, you could see Fred juggling beaters’ bats behind Angelina’s back. “D’you think he’ll get in?” you asked curiously. He shrugged and made one of his faces, so you jabbed him on the side with a finger.
“Ron’s good, isn’t he? He should get in…” you worried. “Yeah, yeah, he’s alright. You’ve seen all those other slacks, he’s got a good chance,” he reassured you.
You crossed your arms on your chest and rested your head on his side. “I hope so. It means a lot to him.”
 —————①—————
 “Oh but that is absolutely ridiculous!” you exasperated, “It’s fucking torture..!” you pointed at Harry’s hand.
You had been chatting with Hermione, Ron and Harry in the courtyard, late afternoon, and noticed the wound on his hand, then made them explain everything in detail. It made you furious.
“First they try to make us dumb, then re-shape us - using violence?!” you whisper-yelled, then noticed three’s terrified expressions.
“Eh hem” you heard behind your back. “Oh for fucks sake…” you mouthed silently and slouched your shoulders, sighing in defeat. “Miss Y/L/N, is it?” She knew your name well, although up until this point you tried not to step out of line, from the very first lesson with Umbridge you showed your dissatisfaction with the new regime rules. Much to Fred and George’s amusement as you usually tried to avoid conflict whenever possible.
With a stoic expression, you turned on your heel to face her. “Yes, professor?” “You have to agree this kind of language does not suit a young witch like yourself. It is in your best interest that we work on your attitude a bit as well. I’ll see you in my office after dinner, dear,” she finished with that sickening smile and walked off.
 Defeated, you approached George and Fred at the table and sat down in silence. They glanced at you curiously. “Why the long face, sweet cheeks?” Fred asked, making you snicker and a small smile broke out on your face. “I-“ you elongated, “had an encounter with Umbridge.” “Oof..” grimaced George. “Yikes, you looked like you were about to maul her last class. Too bad I wasn’t there to see it this time around, what’d you do?” Fred propped his chin on his palm, abandoning the food. “She appeared behind my back in the middle of my tirade about her,” another set of oofs and acknowledging nods, “a strong-worded one…” “Oh this is brilliant, why weren’t we there…” Fred expressed with amusement.
George found the situation quite funny as well but was less expressive about it because he felt bad for you just a bit more than his twin. “I-I... I’m sure you can imagine,” you tried to drop the topic, getting busy with the plate in front of you. They didn’t know about her method of discipline and you weren’t keen on letting them know. “Tsk- whatever, don’t tell your best friends,” he pouted, then brought the conversation to their newest developments with the Skiving Snackboxes.
 ‘I will respect my superiors’ was written out underneath a bandage on your left hand. You’ve been successfully hiding it for almost a week, telling George you cut yourself during potions.
You felt a sharp pain and winced as he grabbed your hand to speed you up on your way to hang out by the lake. “Oh, sorry, Cherry!” he apologized immediately and stroked your hand delicately with concern, “I forgot…” You smiled at him reassuringly, “It’s alright.” “Does it still hurt so much..?” he frowned slightly, confused, “It should’ve started healing by now…”
It would’ve if you hadn’t spent every evening in the toad’s office.
You shrugged dismissively and started walking again, George following. “I don’t think that’s good, Y/N. Maybe you should go to Pomfrey..?” “Noo, it’s fine, I’m sure it’ll heal in no time,” – just a couple more days of detention, you thought. “Well, let me see it, at least,” he said softly and you felt faint. Not only would he find out about the black quill and freak out, but you also hid it from him, deliberately, lied even.
“Y/N” he repeated in a more serious tone. “George, it’s fine, really” you still tried to shrug it off, knowing well it was a lost cause. He sensed something was off. He stopped walking, expecting you to do the same. When you looked at him, he reached out his hand for you to show him the bandage and you obliged.
You held your breath as he unwrapped the dressing. You only dared to look up at him after a few long seconds of silence.
His eyes were still trained on the words, jaw clenched and he started caressing the skin around the wound with his thumb.
He then looked at you and you spoke without words.
You were sorry for not telling him.
He was disappointed but concerned about you.
You wanted to reassure him you were holding up okay.
And he was furious with Umbridge.
“Ferula,” he cast and put his wand away as your hand got wrapped up in clean bandages.
“Please, don’t do anything stupid now…” you worried, “I don’t need revenge.” He smirked a bit, but remained rather serious, “You’ve known me for too long…”
He let go of your hand and resumed walking, putting his hands in his pockets. “I mean it, Georgie. It will have changed nothing and it’s no good if she just makes you write those stupid lines too.” You sighed, “Promise me you’ll be more careful around her. And Fred too.” “Brave of you to assume I can control him,” he snickered, making you smile. “but I can try if that’ll make you happy.” “Thank you,” you said with a big grin, wrapping your arm around his. “Speeaaking of making you happy,” he paused for emphasis, looking up into the sky, “your birthday’s coming up. You didn’t make any plans, did you?” “Mmm, depends what you’re offering.”
 —————①—————
 Your birthday was in the middle of the week this year, so you planned to have a proper party over the weekend. And the evening of the actual birthday, George booked for himself.
It was late, you took a shower and as per instructions – changed into comfy PJs. Excited, you walked down the steps and into the common room.
There were only a few last stragglers left in there, buried in rolls of parchment, probably writing last-minute essays.
No George in sight.
Next to the couch in front of the fire, you saw blankets and pillows spread out, and some snacks on the coffee table. Walking up closer you noticed a little note in George’s hand-writing:
Do not touch or you’ll regret it
You chuckled under your breath and the round door opened, revealing George with two mugs in hands. He was also wearing some pyjama pants and a comfy jumper.
“Heeey!” he greeted with a wide grin. “Good evening” you replied with a smile and a little nod. “That all you?” you gestured at the table as he set down the mugs. “Unless you want to count Fred’s snickering as help,” he complained sitting down and you did the same.
“Oooh, hot chocolate..!” you exclaimed leaning over the mug in front of you.
George reached behind him and revealed a bottle of firewhisky and you chuckled. “For a bit of kick.” He opened the bottle, then hovered it over your mug and glanced at you, asking for permission and you nodded.
He poured a little bit into both mugs.
“Happy seventeen!” he toasted and you clinked delicately, not to spill the hot liquid, then gave it a taste, letting its warmth pour through your bodies.
“How was your day, Cherry?” he asked, getting comfy on the pillows and wrapping both his hands around the warm mug.
You didn’t see him much that day, with the exception of meals, as you took many more N.E.W.T. classes than him.
“Alright. Went by quickly. Snape wished me a happy birthday.” “Oooh” “Yeah, I don’t know if he was being sarcastic or not. Knowing him, he could be, even with birthday wishes… how about you?” you took another sip of the hot chocolate. “Mmm... We might be getting closer to figuring out how to stop the nosebleeds,” he opened a box of biscuits, “but we need to read up on it a bit more before testing it.”
 “That’s not the end of my surprises,” he said after you finished the conversation about nosebleed nougats, standing up for a moment to retrieve a small packaging he then presented to you with a giddy smile. You placed it in your lap and let your hands ghost over the ribbon, “I was about to say you didn’t have to, but then I remembered you’re a rich business owner now.” you teased him, earning a small laugh. He bit his lip and waited for you to continue.
It was a book, the newest tome of a series you and George would geek out about together. It had just come out.
Screeching out of joy you tackled him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“You managed to get it already?!” you questioned. “Yup. Blood, sweat and tears it cost me, but I’ve got it,” he said proudly. “Thank you, Georgie” you gave him one last squeeze and pulled away to admire the book once more. “You’re welcome, love. D’you wanna start reading it tonight?” he asked with clear excitement in his voice. You nodded and opened the book on the first page right away.
You stayed up late that night, taking turns in reading out loud for as long as you were able to fight off the tiredness. Eventually, it was just the two of you, immersed in your favourite fantasy adventure, the soft crackling of the fire serving as a background.
You couldn’t have asked for a better seventeenth birthday.
104 notes · View notes
ariel-seagull-wings · 3 years
Video
youtube
@superkingofpriderock @sunlit-music @princesssarisa @sunlit-music @astrangechoiceoffavourites @amalthea9 @metropolitan-mutant-of-ark @mademoiselle-princessek
Snow White ["Shirayukihime" (Japanese: 白雪姫)] refers to four episodes of the the 1988-1989 series Grimm's Fairy Tale Classics covering the tale itself (from episodes 10 to 13). It follows the titular Fallen Princess and her life prior to having to leave the castle where she was born and raised by her nanny Doris  and in company of a noble boy named Klaus, plus all the stuff that happened to her and her friends afterwards...
*The Huntsman is a huge asshole here, and he directly tries to kill Snow and Klaus when they run away.
*The Dwarfs, who are named after the days of the week, are friends with some nice wolves. Later, those wolves kill the Evil Queen.
*A gentle and clumsy bear is involved in some quite funny moments.
*Rather than straight-up trying to assassinate her after finding out she is the Fairest of Them All, the vain Queen/Stepmother first summons Snow to her presence and attempts to bully and emotionally blackmail the girl into denying the claims of the mirror, under threat of kicking her out of the castle if she doesn't give her a satisfactory answer. The usually kind and cheerful Snow ends up snapping in anger and verbally lashes the Stepmother for her vanity and selfishness, even telling her how ugly she believes her to be. That's when the Stepmother decides to try killing Snow - not just for being prettier, but for refusing to put up with her bullshit.
*The Evil Queen has a Wicked Witch who teaches murder methods to her.
*In the original tale, the stepmother tries to kill Snow three times. In this one, like in the Faerie Tale Theater adaptation and the 2001 Hallmark movie, only two attempts (the first one with the corset and the last one with the apple) happen.
*When the murder attempted by corset happens, Snow actually gets some days layed in bed crying and without eating, feeling guilty for having been foolished by her stepmother.
*Later at the end, is the Bear who shakes the glass casket, making Snow White spit the apple piece and wake up.
* The part that didn’t aged well and was my least favorite: After the first murder attempt on Snow, the Dwarves wonder if they should have her marry into their family so they can protect her better. The youngest Dwarf, Monday, had a specially big infatuation on Snow. Thankfully the Bear felt the scent of honey cake and interrupted before they could go with the proposal of marriage. And also the fact that the Prince’s design made him looked taller and older than both Snow and her friend Klaus (who guides him to her).
* Snow actually DOES love eating apples in this version. to the point of personally getting her favorites from the biggest apple tree in the courtyard.
*Snow is extremely girly-looking and learns, even if more slowly than most adaptations, to handle herself competently with housework when she lives with the Dwarves, but she likes climbing up trees to get her beloved apples and explicitly says she'd rather do these things all day long than sew and knit.
Overall, minus the Dwarf almost proposal idea and the unfortunate older than Snow White looking Prince, i think that this has become my favorite adaptation of Snow White. The portrayal of the Princess herself tyes with Canrym Manheim in the 10th Kingdom as the one i find the most interesting on how her likes, dislikes and wishes are fleshed out, and all of this is acomplished by just ading small details while keeping mostly close to the original Brothers Grimm Tale.
18 notes · View notes
Text
(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 7
part 6 here
Hello everyone and welcome back to this quasi-watchalong of Magia Record season 1! Last time, Iroha met a magical girl mercenary called Felicia, and the two ended up caught in the Rumor of the Lucky Owl Water. When our girls went to erase it, a cult group of weirdos called The Wings of the Magius stood in their way and got Felicia to join them promising the extinction of all witches.
Who are these weirdos? What are they up to protecting the Rumors? Is what they promised Felicia true? Et cetera, et cetera. Let's just go to the episode to find out already.
Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 7
Tumblr media
O-oh... what a way to start an episode, huh.
We get a look into what led to Felicia becoming a magical girl and, like most magical girl backstories, it's tragic. This is the reason why Felicia's obsessed with destroying all witches.
Tumblr media
Continuing from the previous episode, Felicia was taken to a subterranean waterway, that might be their hideout. Wait, didn't Kaede say something about a rumor of a giant underground empire some time back? She might've been right after all hahaha
Tumblr media
After walking a while, Felicia is met by Tsukasa and Tsukuyo Amane, two of the, uh, generals I guess I could say, of The Wings of the Magius.
The weirdo twins explain that their organization's objective is fulfilling the wishes of the Magius, whose objective is the salvation of all magical girls. See, so they are the ones behind the salvation propaganda.
The twins say their objective cannot be completed without the eradication of witches, which... well, is not a lie. Without the witchfication, there would be no witches. It's all fine until there, but then they're also protecting Rumors, who kidnap people, so... yeah.
Tumblr media
...uh, hey, Kyoko? What are you doing here?
Tumblr media
Back to Iroha's group, Iroha is worried about just letting Felicia go like that, to which Yachiyo answers it's fine because she planted a GPS on her... sasuga, Yachiyo. Why in the heck did you have that?
Tumblr media
"Am I being tracked too...?”
Yachiyo says this much is normal (no it's not), since she didn't trust Felicia to begin with, but Iroha just feels bad knowing Felicia's circumstances.
The trio heads towards Felicia's position and find the entrance to the waterway. Waiting for them there was...
Tumblr media
Chibi Kyuubei. For as adorable as he is, he manages to look even more suspicious than the original. And he only shows up when there's a rumor around, too! I don't trust him.
Tumblr media
Back at the underground waterway, Kyoko and Felicia are having a little chat. According to her, Kyoko only just ran into them too. She says that as long as she has Grief Seeds, food and a place to sleep, the rest doesn't matter, but she also seems to be aware that the WoM are fishy. Felicia agrees uneasily, but hearing that they might be behind the witches gathering in Kamihama seems to already have put doubts in her mind.
Tumblr media
The two have a meeting with the Amane twins inside the Rumor's barrier.
The twins explain the logic behind the Lucky Owl Water once again, and Kyoko says this
Tumblr media
There it is! This series' core. Funny hearing that from Kyoko, since I think she doesn't even know how right she is yet.
Kyoko rejects the Water and lays out her terms: as long as she can keep gathering Grief Seeds, she's fine with anything. However, the twins affirm that those are not necessary in Kamihama. Normally, I'd say these two are bonkers, but... well, we saw what happened to Iroha and Kaede. These two must know about that too. At this moment, a black feather comes in and interrupts their little show.
Tumblr media
Iroha's group was making their way through the waterway when the Amane twins block their way and, together with them, Kyoko and Felicia.
The Amane twins tell Iroha to do what they say if she doesn't want to be swallowed by bad luck and Iroha asks them why would they create that Rumor, to which the twins once more say it's for the sake of the Magius and their salvation. See, cult.
Yachiyo cuts to the chase and confirms they're here to battle, and the twins pull out something strange on them.
Tumblr media
So, yeah. There's pocket monsters, and now we have pocket witches too, apparently.
The twins called a witch upon our girls, which, according to them, they are controlling with magic. As the girls begin fighting against their familiars, Yachiyo asks the twins if they have any idea of what exactly they're doing. Tsukasa apologizes, but affirms that witches will be gone if they can realize their plans. The twins (literally) pull the rug on Yachiyo and Tsuruno and chase after them, leaving the (weak) Iroha to Kyoko and Felicia.
Tumblr media
Iroha gets whacked by the familiars and Felicia comes in to help. Iroha then once again dashes in her direction and they do a connect. Upon further thought, I think Iroha's assist is a booster in a more literal sense, since it turned Felicia's hammer into a rocket-hammer. My theory is that it's the same propulsion magic that makes her crossbow work.
Felicia's hammer causes a quake and one of the twins asks what's going on. Well, what did you think would happen if you released a witch in front of someone who notoriously goes berserk when they see witches? The twins might not be very smart.
Tumblr media
Damn, I missed a number.
Kyoko bounces too. She wasn't very convinced with the twins' vague talk of "salvation".
After transforming, Kyoko does her good act of the day, busting a hole in the barrier and telling Iroha to go on ahead. Iroha hesitates to leave her friends behind but obeys when Yachiyo tells her to go.
Tumblr media
With Kyoko guarding her back Iroha manages to make it out of the witch's p*kéball and into the Rumor's barrier. Like it's said, out of the frying pan into the fire. Oh and there's 7-6. I'm really missing numbers left and right today.
No Iroha, don't go chase the Kyuubei towards the light...! Just kidding. Iroha gets out of the tunnel and finds the Rumor's main body. She confirms with her tutorial mascot if she only has to break that, readies her crossbow and... gets swarmed by owls. C'mon Iroha, did you really think it'd be that easy?
Tumblr media
While Iroha's busy sucking at battles, Felicia's not having a better time with her reckless style either. Kyoko saves her ass and tells her she's not winning like that.
This whole sequence is just great in terms of animation, shame I can't really screenshot that T-T
As someone on a similar spot, Kyoko gives Felicia some advice, telling her she's a magical girl for her own sake; that's how it should be when she's betting her own life.
The two cooperate on destroying the witches, with Felicia bonking the whole barrier to smithereens. Nice job, rocket-hammer!
The girls go back to the waterway and the twins' Soul Gem is quite drained. Tsuruno tells them to stop already, but these two weirdos say that's just what they wanted.
Saying that they'll be able to show that Kamihama is a place of salvation, the two do the same thing Iroha and Kaede had done.
Tumblr media
Uhhh... if the salvation that the Magius is preaching is spewing out a witch from your body, that's already super fishy. There's no way there's no downside to this. This is Madoka we are talking about... right...?
While Yachiyo's group learns a shocking and disturbing truth, Iroha's busy getting her ass kicked. Poor Iroha
Tumblr media
and oh god, I don't think anyone would ever catch this number if they weren't pausing as much as I am to write this.
Iroha keeps getting wrecked by the owls, miraculously escaping unscathed thanks to the Lucky Owl Water. As the numbers keep counting down, Iroha starts questioning what happened to her back in the Seance Shrine. Uh, Iroha, is this really the best time to be introspecting?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
No matter how many times I see it, this scene still creeps me out.
While Iroha gets another round of spawning a witch, Yachiyo's group fight the twins', to no avail. Back to Iroha...
Oh no the witch talks now? Eek... oh, wait wait is this still Iroha's voice?
Not that the first thing it said is wrong, but Yachiyo's words really remained in a negative manner, huh? First in the Seance Shrine and now this. Iroha, don't go getting yourself killed trying to become stronger, ok?
Tumblr media
A-at least it's a bit cuter now... if you can call a witch that... rather, why did it change?
Iroha's thing makes short work of the Rumor and the Chibi Kyuubei peaces out. As if it wasn't suspicous enough, it turns into freaking water. Goddammit Chibi Kyuubei.
Iroha just lies there tired.
Tumblr media
Uhh... yeah, sure, if you count an eldritch abomination coming out of you as part of yourself, then yeah you did.
Like last time, Iroha's Soul Gem is pristine clean now.
Back to the twins, thanks to the floating water falling they realize that the Rumor's been defeated , then start panicking.
Tumblr media
"Someone", whose voice we're already familiar with, comes in to check on the situation and the twins apologize for their failure.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Whelp, this is awkward. Hello there, Mifuyu. So you joined a cult.
Tsuruno gets really emotional. She runs up and hugs Mifuyu. who stops the Black Feathers from attacking her. Tsuruno's really glad that she's back and says they'll have to make a "Welcome Back Party" at her family's restaurant, but Mifuyu says she's not going back, because she's part of the cult The Wings of the Magius now. (couldn't they choose a shorter name for their group? Geez)
Mifuyu shifts her attention to Yachiyo and says she's happy that they went even to Seance Shrine to search for her; Yachiyo says it's thanks to the Kamihama Rumor Files (the notebook Yachiyo carries around) that she left behind.
Tumblr media
Yachiyo asks but Mifuyu implies she's the one that was left behind.
Mifuyu invites Yachiyo to join the cult but Yachiyo, obviously, can't agree with their methods. She questions if Mifuyu hadn't resolved herself as a magical girl but Mifuyu, like we saw in the flashback, really wants to be saved. Yachiyo's the only one who's strong like that.
Yachiyo says she'll stop her by force if she has to and they prepare to battle again, but Mifuyu uses her magic and has her group leave.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Iroha's group leave the underground waterway (seems Kyoko has gone her way already too). Felicia tries to leave too and says she has nowhere to go back to when Iroha stops her and asks, so Iroha tells her to come over to her place.
Tumblr media
Felicia says she doesn't have to do that for her, but Iroha says she's doing this for herself, that she needs Felicia's strenght. Felicia argues that Iroha will get in trouble again if she's around and all the girls chip in saying they'll help her learn to hold herself back. (I'm not sure what this far framing is doing but I do like how it lets us see the body expression of all the girls at once.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Huh, weird, why is the screen so blurry? I can't type like this...
Tumblr media
Iroha apologizes for what they said and insists on having Felicia over, even if just for the day. Yachiyo comes in and tells them to stay over at her place instead.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*sobs* so beautiful ;-; I wish I knew the name of the ost track here it's really pretty too.
Tumblr media
It really is Kyoko, it really is.
Tumblr media
At Yachiyo's place, Iroha's on the phone with her parents while the others wait for her to eat. It seems like her parents finally decided on where she's going to be moving to, and whatever they said was a surprise.
Tumblr media
There goes the last number! The Rumor's gone so this has to be purely for the sake of finishing the countdown, but I have long given up on trying to find the ones I'm missing in this episode.
Tumblr media
And there's the title card. Don't leave the episode yet, though, as there's still an after credits scene.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
To absolutely no one's surprise besides Iroha's, the place her parents decided on is Mikadzuki Villa, Yachiyo's place. Now, I did say that last number must be purely illustrative, but I'm inclined to agree with Iroha here on it being thanks to the Lucky Owl Water since there is no other way I can rationalize Iroha's parents, from overseas, managing to find the phone number of Mikadzuki Villa, that's not even doing boarding anymore, calling while Yachiyo's around to respond, making an agreement to let Iroha live there, and Yachiyo not even telling Iroha her parents called. So yeah, I say it was the Lucky Owl Water.
Felicia comes with Tsuruno and reveals she's also been living in Yachiyo's place. She's happy she'll be freed from living alone with Yachiyo and her "nagging" and Yachiyo tells her to clean up; Iroha says she's glad to see them getting along.
Tumblr media
“When did I turn into a mom?“
Tumblr media
That's a new type of bishie sparkles alright. Can all models do this? Is it like some special ability like Gabs' censor light rays? We'll never know.
Tumblr media
After the various types of ad, now we have spam too. Magia Record is actually warning us about the dangers of the internet.
...In all seriousness though, that's some mysterious text. How do they, whoever "they" are, know that Iroha's a magical girl? And most of all, how do they have her number? Guess this is going to be the mystery for the next episode. (Also, I never noticed this before but you can hear a veeeery quiet chime when the messages come in. Nice detail!).
- x -
Aaaand with that, we have concluded episode 7! This one also ran on longer than I expected and, surprisingly, managed to surpass the number of screenshots of all others at about 43 images. sugoi
I couldn't catch all the numbers this time, but the ones I did were: 13-12 with Iroha on the bridge; 10-9 when Kyoko "betrays" the WoM; 7-6 when Iroha finds the Rumor; 6 through 1 happen while Iroha's fighting the Rumor and the last 1-0 was in Yachiyo's magazine. With that, I'm missing 12-11; 11-10; 9-8 and 8-7, which I have no idea where they are. Oh well.
I realized partway through that it kinda seems like I'm dissing Iroha every chance I get, but I assure you I don't hate her. In fact, she's my favorite character! This is coming purely from a place of affection, and a bit of frustration at what the anime did to her character, so don't mind me, it's aaall good.
With that out of the way, this was episode 7! We are now over halfway through, with a buckload of mysteries and barely any progress being made towards finding Iroha's younger sister. Poor Ui, if you even existed. Tomorrow, we'll be watching episode 8, so I hope you'll read me again then. Have a great morning/afternoon/evening and see you later!
4 notes · View notes
vtscasefiles · 3 years
Text
Case File # 321-5
Trigger warning: blood, gore, violence, death, firearms, injury, rape mention
Case begun: 5/09/20**
Case Concluded: 5/11/20**
Case Locale: [REDACTED], Florida
Marked as Closed
I arrived in Florida, the humidity already fucking with my sinuses. How anyone can live in this swampy shithole I will never understand. But I was offered a job, and my bank account was practically beating me over the head with it’s need to be filled. The pay was too good to turn down, so I loaded up my gear and headed out.
What I wasn’t expecting was a fucking ghost pirate. I mean, of all things, how fucking cliché can you get? The client, Rosie [REDACTED], welcomed me with that famed “southern hospitality” that I’ve heard so much of.
“You the girl with the gun? I expected you to be bigger.”
Fuckin’ peachy. “Yes. I’m the girl with the gun. You got a haunting problem?” I replied, trying not to let my irritation get the better of me. I’m fucking 5′9″. I’m not that small. For fuck’s sake, I can bench two hundo with no problem. Why the -- 
[Editor’s note: this continues for fifteen minutes. For your convenience I have removed VT’s rant.]
After getting a brief rundown of the case, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Everything pointed to a simple haunting, it wasn’t something I was considering a challenge, or even something that’d take longer than a few hours.
After doing this job, you think you’ve seen just about all the SC* has to offer. My two best friends are a lich and a witch. Yes, they rhyme, shut up. Point being is that I have never seen a haunting manifest on such a massive scale. Usually it’s restrained to a building, or a patch of land, but this...the whole fucking coast line was haunted. It wasn’t even a Cluster**, it was one. Singular. Spirit.
My first day, as the usual, was spent at the library. The spirit in question, one Captain Fresni, was an infamous pirate in the seventeen hundreds. Played a role in the American Revolution, albeit a small one. According to the books I’d found (mostly useless, but I did manage to glean some insight), his ship The Crooked Jess, was riddled with canon fire by the British. Captain Fresni, a violent fighter if ever there was one, realized there was no way out...lit every barrel of gunpowder he had on board and rammed his ship into the oncoming fleet. The following explosion wiped out three ships, packed with soldiers and set fire to another six.
I was impressed. If the spirit was Captain Fresni, as Rose claimed, then it could simply be a case of the body dying so suddenly and violently that the spirit didn’t realize he was dead. There was one passage that stood out, I won’t repeat it due to it being hella long, but in summation it stated that near the southern tip of Florida there was a hidden cove that served as the pirate captain’s base. Might as well start there.
It was around 9pm on the tenth before I even stepped foot in the cove. Immediately, the air changed. Despite it being disgustingly humid, the air turned frigid and dry. I walked up and down the coast to find a spot that wasn’t freezing, but to no avail. The whole place was a spook zone. We’re talking a good three hundred acres of land completely under the spirit’s influence. Even by a Cluster’s standards, that’s a massive area.
This area was mostly undisturbed, being a historical site. Being in the profession I am, meant that didn’t mean a roasty pile of dogshit. If I got caught disturbing anything here, it only meant one thing: prosecution, if not a bullet through my head. I’m aware of what my ethnic background means; prejudice, racism, outright hate. Hell, it’s dangerous to drive, let alone stand somewhere that I shouldn’t. So I try to be subtle. Try not to pack too much ordinance. Today I only had my duffel bag full of Elinor’s*** special ammo. I’d say it “kills” ghosts, but you can’t kill a spirit. You can however, force it to reconcile with it’s past.
The worst part about this job was I was going to wind up in the water. I hate swimming. Forget what chlorine does to the dye in my hair (red. Blood red. Always.), but just the thought of driving across the country with my clothes soaked in salty water was already putting my teeth on edge. Looks like I’d be hitting a thrift shop on the way home.
I dropped my duffel bag on the beach and sat in the sand next to it, pulling off my dad’s old combat jacket and stowing it inside. I did a quick inventory. I hadn’t brought anything major. Salt. Blessed water (courtesy of Ramona****). A black beeswax candle and, my trusty companion, Peace.
Peace is the name I’ve given to my custom-made revolver. All together, the setup weighs about three pounds. Each part bears a custom engraving that’ll combat just about any supernatural force...even so, there are some things that Peace can’t solve...even with the right ammo. But I had one solution sitting in the backseat of my car: a can of kerosene. If bullets don’t solve the problem, a liberal application of fire will.
The time was midnight, the opening of the “Witching Hour”. I had until 3am to get something. Anything. The spirit wasn’t answering to any of the usual callouts (their name, questions, requests for an audience), so I settled in on the beach to doze. Wasn’t much else to do.
Mother fucker, I wish I hadn’t.
When I woke up, it was to the freezing cold iron around my wrists. The bob and weave that told me I was on the sea. The air smelled of something...something that every fucking time I smell it, I almost lose my lunch.
Corpses.
The deck outside my cell was slick with blood and viscera. I’ve seen my share of gore, don’t get me wrong, but this was a massacre. What was worse...it looked (and smelled) fresh. The good captain had been busy, it’d seemed. What began as a simple haunting was quickly turning into something more sinister. Rosie hadn’t mentioned that the spirit was violent...though I should have assumed, given the amount posted on the job. Even still, this was...a little more than I’d prepared for.
But first there was the matter of the shackles on my wrists.
Lockpicking is an artform that every PE invests time in learning. But that’s usually deadbolts or doors made post 1970. The manacles on my wrists (though they looked brand new) were easily something seen in the eighteenth century. There was even a maker’s mark next to one of the keyholes. I’ll spare you the details on how I got out, but my thumbs ache to all hell.
The second I laid hands on the bars to my cell, they swung open...I’d never been locked in. This worried me. The spirit wanted me free...the manacles were just a precaution. Each step I made was met with the squishy splort of combat boot on viscera. I took my time, as I didn’t relish the thought of slipping and falling into the mess beneath my boots. Proud to say that I didn’t fall. Not once.
[Editor’s note: judging by the stains on VT’s clothes, she fell.]
As far as I could tell, I was on the lowest deck. The stairway didn’t lead up into the fresh air of day, but rather into what I assumed was a galley. Tables and benches had been scattered, and cooking implements rusted on their hooks. Dangling from one of those hooks was my firearms...just waiting for me.
I expected a trap, I anticipated the trap. By that I mean I picked up a piece of busted bench and hurled it at my gun. It fell off the hook with a loud clatter which had me willing myself to fade into the shadows. Nothing. Nothing but the creak and groan of the ship.
Well, I say nothing, but I distinctly heard laughter from the top deck. Feminine, bright laughter. I picked my gun up off the floor, holstered it and climbed the stairs.
There was no ghost crew, as I’d anticipated...but at the helm was a sight that still gives my heart a jolt. It’s no secret that I’m gay. I love women. But what I saw at the helm...fuck me, sideways. She was tall. 6′6″ if she was an inch. Her raven hair captured the moonlight and practically sucked it in. Her breasts were bared to the wind, heavy tattoos that seemed to glow covered just about every inch of bared flesh. I’d have thought her living if not for one thing: her eyes. Pitch black like the void.
“Ahoy, mate.” she purred, setting my teeth to clench. “Found you on my little hideaway, snoozin’ like an infant. Come to join Captain Fresni’s crew, little pet?”
“I ain’t your pet.” I snapped, glowering up at the spirit. “You’ve been killing people, Captain...and everything I’ve read says that you’re a man. Are you actually Captain Fresni, or is that just some title you picked up?”
“Funny how men’ll give the most vicious fighters a cock in death that they never had in life, hm?” the pirate snickered. I took notice then that her arms were like two thick pythons that, any other time, I’d like to see just how much weight they could hold. “I offered my services to old Georgie and he thought me funny. At least until I broke his nose.”
“Georgie? As in Washington?”
“Ye know of him? Interesting. He refusing the afterlife, too?”
Everything I’d assumed about this spirit was wrong. Captain Fresni wasn’t a man, for one. Not to mention she knew very well that she was dead. That still didn’t answer the most pertinent question on my mind. “The bodies...or what’s left of them. Was that you?”
“Aye.” she smiled, wickedly, but offered no further explanation. I was being baited.
“Can I ask why?”
“Ye just did.” a hard spin of the wheel almost sent me tumbling. “But I suppose I can oblige a pretty little thing like you.” I fucking hate being demeaned. And all attraction for this undead bitch was flying out the window faster than you could say “eat my ass”. 
I can’t remember most of her explanation. Looking back, now...it’s like the whole of that night is just a drunken fever dream. What stands out to me is her reasoning. “I only murder the dregs, girlie. Rapists, mostly. Kidnappers. Violence done to women is met with brutal retaliation. It’s the simplest way to clean up this world, savvy?”
Oh, I was savvy. Quite savvy. If anything, I agreed with her and her method. Trash like that shouldn’t be allowed to breathe, let alone exist. “If that’s all you’re doing, Cap, then I see no reason we shouldn’t go our separate ways. You have your work and I have mine.”
“Aye? And just what is your work, lovely?” I didn’t detect any further demeaning playfulness...only curiosity.
“I’m a PE. A Paranormal Eliminator. Usually, I’d have to ask or make you pass on, but as it stands...I think we can say live and let live. Well...live and let un-live.” she’d laughed at that. A warm sound that had my guts twisting around my stomach like some sort of horny serpent.
“So, you came out all this way to end the dread Captain Fresni...only to find a kindred spirit, is that what I’m hearing?” she asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat with a Glasgow grin. “And now you want to leave, just like that. Don’t a get a kiss or a nice romp? I think I’m owed something after all. I didn’t kill you for trespassing.”
That raised my hackles. Again, this pillar of muscle was underestimating me. What I’d fought, what I’d killed. For fuck’s sake, I’ve killed enough Wendigos to put half the men in my profession to shame. There was that weird case where the woman who hired me was fucking the Wendigo, but...that’s another story for another time.
[Editor’s Note: We’ve never discussed the Wendigo-coitus case. I sincerely want to hear it.]
“Fuck you. You got the drop on me, like a coward.” I regretted the words the instant they left my mouth. I was on her ship and at her mercy. She could sink this ship and I had no idea which way shore was...let alone the hazards that went with swimming in open water.
Instead she’d only laughed. “Little girl, I’m a pirate. I’ve no intent to fight head on when I can sneak up on someone. Honor is a man’s game. It’s what gets them killed, more often than not.” Again, I agreed. I’d put enough bullets in the back of a head to know that stealth is preferable than a face-to-face fight.
“Look, I lost my temper. Can we just...end this and I can go home? We both agree on your method, and I see no reason to stop what you’re doing. Sure, the “authority” of the living world won’t like it...but no one likes them, so they can eat a steaming pile of shit.” I said, frowning. “I don’t want a fight. I just want to get paid and go home.”
The look about the spirit changed, marginally. The tattoos seemed to be rippling along her flesh(?) and her smile faded into a frown. “Missy, we still have a glaring problem we’ve yet to address. I’m one woman...and I need a crew. So, unless you’ve got a solution to that particular snag, you’re it.”
All my like for this spirit (begrudging as some of it was) vanished in an instant. “So I’m being kidnapped.” I responded, feeling my heart start to hammer in my ears. “Just like those men you killed. So, what I’m hearing is, you’re no better.”
“Watch your words, girl. Your pretty face won’t save you from my blade.” she’d snarled. It took all that was in me not to balk, though my teeth desperately wanted to chatter.
“I’m using your own words against you, Captain.” I responded, hoping I sounded calmer than I felt. “Don’t blame me if they don’t line up the way you want.”
“One more word out of you -- “
“I’ll give you two: get. Fucked.” that had torn it. The rippling gave way to something that I’d come to expect. This was no run of the mill spirit: Captain Fresni was either a wraith or a revenant. The only real difference between the two was the level of violence capable. A wraith tends to hunt one person, or their family. A revenant hunts whoever they want...and now I was on the list. I couldn’t fight her here, not out in the open. She’d tear me to shreds. Already her jaw was gaping, revealing razor teeth. Her nails, cut short, were lengthening into something akin to talons...and believe me when I say those things hurt. 
I feel no shame in saying I sprinted below deck and ducked into the galley proper. I wish I hadn’t. She wasn’t just killing people, she was eating them. Body parts, half chewed, dangled from the ceiling and littered the ground. My hand clapped over my mouth and nose to keep the smell out and my dinner in. I heard her footsteps and, as silently as I could manage, I checked my firearm. Peace was still locked, cocked and ready to rock. Well, not cocked. Gun safety, kids.
I pulled one of Elinor’s special bullets out of the cylinder. What made these so special is that, instead of lead, bone served as the projectile. The easiest way to deal with something dead is by using something dead against it. I don’t ask where Elinor gets her bone, and I think I’ll be perfectly happy to continue not knowing.
[Editor’s note: I know. It’s horrific.]
“Little pet, little pet, where are you?” she crooned. Well, I say crooned...more like...rattled. A revenant’s physiology is strange, but once they reveal their form it’s almost as if their bodies begin to decay. I peeked around the corner to see her back facing me. I took aim and...nothing. My gun clicked loud enough to sound like a scream in an empty hallway, but no roar of igniting gunpowder. She turned and...smiled. I think. “There you are.”
“Here I am.” I responded, standing on shaking legs. “Soup’s on, Captain.” she ran at me, talons held out at her sides like sabers. I did the only sane thing I could think of: I ducked as she swung. Luckily, the big swing didn’t hit me. Unluckily, she had another hand. Claw. Whatever.
So, there I was, a talon embedded in my shoulder and blood gushing from the wound like a waterfall. A little known fact about revenant wounds: leave the talon in. If it’s withdrawn the wound will immediately fester and become gangrenous. A lot of PEs have died that way.
I slammed the barrel of my gun against the base of her claw and it snapped off. She screamed her pain and rage and took another swipe at my torso. I barely managed to get far enough back in time. The fact I had to compensate for a long talon still imbedded in my shoulder didn’t mean much, as I was operating off a cubic fuckload of adrenaline. She did however manage to shred my tanktop. Which sucked, because I loved that thing. Said “Boss Ass Bitch” on it and everything...I guess I could see if Ramona would make me another one...
[Editor’s note: RIP tank top. Ramona is making another one at the time of writing.]
I sprinted past her, she’d over balanced and given me time to escape. I went down, back to the cells. I was soaked in a cold sweat by now and thankful that my hair tie had held, despite my panicked movement. I smoothed the strands away from my sweat soaked face and looked for a place to hide. Nothing was presenting itself...but an idea struck. It was a stupid idea. A terrible idea. I ran into a cell and pressed my back to the wall.
When Fresni reappeared, she was smiling. “Ran out of room to run, little rat?”
“Seems that way.” I panted. My head was spinning from the loss of blood. Thankfully, that brief moment I spent pressed against the wall had redoubled my courage...and helped me remember one little fact. “Look, Cap...I’m dead. We both know it. The second this talon is removed, my life is over...so...I guess I’m askin’ if that place on your crew is still available.”
That shocked her, if only for a moment. “You can’t lie your way out of this one.”
“No lie. Kill me now. I’d rather just go ahead and get it over with, thanks.” I said, praying that this would work. If it didn’t well...you wouldn’t be seeing this, would you?
She approached, brandishing those eight inch talons. She clicked them together, thoughtfully. “Stand still, then.” she snarled as I held my breath. “One through the heart, and it’s all over.”
Three more steps. Two. One. I stepped in and latched onto her arm, and...I bit down. I felt fetid blood fill my mouth and choke me. I immediately began to gag and then...voided my stomach, all over my aggressor.
A revenant’s true power isn’t from the change they make, though it definitely looks it. A revenant is best known for it’s insidious way of making the unreal real...so long as its concentration remains undisturbed.
When I finally finished tossing my cookies, I looked up. No ship in sight. Just a revenant, me and glorious land. The sand was disturbed, probably from all my running, and my blood left trails showing my passage. I’d been running in circles for the last hour...while she just watched.
“Shouldn’t play with your food.” I coughed, wiping my mouth. “It’s how you get killed.” she screeched in rage, her partially coagulated blood oozing from the bite mark I’d left. The talon was still lodged in my shoulder. I reached for my gun, ready to put an end to this only to pull out... “A fucking banana? Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
She roared and charged. My weapon, my baby was strapped to the rotten leather of her belt. She’d touched it. No one touched my weapon except Ray***** and myself. Not even Ramona. 
That pissed me off in a way that nothing else does.
Naturally, I charged straight for her. She took a swipe with her injured arm, but instead of dodging out of the way, I leapt into it. She made contact, but only with her palm. I felt one of my ribs crack and gasped in pain, pure instinct was the only thing that drove my fist into the shredded flesh on her arm, courtesy of my teeth. She balked and I snatched.
Peace was in my hand, albeit barely. She noticed and lunged again, sending us both into the sand. Her pirate nature showed in the way her head collided with my nose, sending fresh gouts of blood over the both of us. She thought me stunned. An easy kill. She thought wrong.
“Any last words, my pretty?” she cackled, her maw open wide. She wasn’t just going to kill me...I’d pissed her off enough that she was going to bite me. My death wouldn’t just be painful, but slow...and my soul would erode right along with my body.
“Yeah.” I croaked, feeling the end of my stamina quickly approaching. “Choke on it.” I rammed Peace as hard as I possibly could into that gaping maw, hearing her gargle in rage around it. My wrist jerked as I fired once, twice, three times. Bam. Bam. Bam. A faint gargle, a twitch...and about two-hundred pounds collapsed on right on my cracked rib, finishing the job her arm had started and broke the damned thing.
I wheezed beneath the re-corpse for...ten, fifteen minutes? When I finally managed the strength to push her off of me, I immediately emptied the last three rounds into the ruined mess of her skull. Say what you will about my methodology, but I like to be thorough. 
It wouldn’t have done just to leave her body there, for a mundane to see. The SC likes it’s secrecy and to risk exposing it? There was no faster way to end a career than to leave a loose end behind. I made the long trek back to the car and returned with the kerosene can. I stood by the raging fire until there was nothing but ash and blackened bone...though I know a certain lich who could make use of revenant bone.
All in all, a happy ending. Had a vampire doc fix up my shoulder to avoid dying of infection. Rosie paid me what I was owed and Elinor bought the bone off of me for further profit. Sure, my shoulder still hurts so damned bad that I can barely lift it, but...thanks to Ramona, it’ll be healed up in no time. Probably.
Yo-ho-ho, mother fucker. Case closed.
Editor’s farewell: This is the first case file VT asked I upload. It’s one she’s particularly proud of and one with a satisfactory ending. There may be names or terminology that you are unfamiliar with, but I have taken the time to star each of them as to explain. They are as follows:
SC*: Supernatural Community. This is self explanatory. Includes all beings, regardless of death, undeath or birth. IE vampires, ghosts, revenants, werewolves
Cluster**: A colloquial term amongst PEs. Used in reference to a small locale with a massive collection of spirits. Usually all working as a coordinated group.
Elinor***: Elinor Lyktor. Lich. Proprietress of Ellie’s, a shop frequented by PEs for their gear. Specializes in Osteomancy.
Ramona****: Ramona Torrez. Witch. A close friend of VT’s. Offers support, healing and consultation. A good 75% of VT’s equipment is blessed by Ramona.
Ray*****: Raleigh Kane. Gunsmith. Took the name Ray from her father, proprietress of Ray’s Armory. Forced into the Supernatural Community by VT during a case. Since, she has dedicated her craft to making weapons to deal with the malignant forces that threaten the community as a whole. Extensively researches customers and will not sell her works to those she does not trust.
7 notes · View notes
gills-corn · 3 years
Text
The water running down Ligaya's hands turn reddish-brown. The tang of blood still lingers in her mouth but she allows herself to breathe. She could just easily wash that down with water. Bloodied palms are more damning, more dangerous, but God be damned if she didn't feel something course through her body as she fled the scene.
"You're home?" a groggy voice asks behind her.
Ligaya starts and smacks her hand on the sink but it's just Anita, looking ruffled, her hair and clothes windswept and there are traces of blood on her mouth and clothes.
Ligaya relaxes her shoulder and beckons the other woman to join her, clicking her tongue. "You have blood all over."
Snorting, Anita nudges Ligaya with her hip, grinning up at her. There's something in Anita's eyes as she flicks her gaze throughout her face, eventually settling on Ligaya's lips. Ligaya feels her heart stop.
"Having a few droplets of blood wouldn't put me in danger, Li," Anita whispers, her breath practically fanning Ligaya's face.
"You should still be very careful," Ligaya replies, as gently as the other girl.
The flickering of the oil lamp casts shadows on Anita's already sunken face but Ligaya is still hopelessly staring at her face as if it's the last thing she'll do. It's painful and pointless - this has been going on for fifty years, would she let herself crumble now?
"Anything for you," Anita replies with a wink.
Her tongue darts around her mouth, wiping off the excess blood. Ligaya, despite the abundance of blood in her system, feels like she could faint.
She takes a step back, picking up the pieces left from her shattered sanity, like a loon gluing back pieces of a broken vase. There's no saving her - she and Anita both, really - but she could pretend. She has gotten pretty proficient at that. Still, Ligaya is not a good actress. And Anita is too smart for her own good. Ligaya, despite not wanting to take her eyes off her friend, turns around and busies herself with a empty mug.
"So, who did you - "
"Eat?" Anita supplies, turning on the faucet.
Ligaya hears the water run before promptly nodding. "Don't forget to use soap."
"Fine," Anita grumbles.
Ligaya doesn't know how she still complains - half a century of doing this should be routine to Anita by now.
"I, uh, had a little excursion with Dominador - I think his last name is Tan? I'm not so sure," Anita answers, her voice a little too light.
Ligaya could hear the grin in her voice and she feels her chest clamp up. Stupid, stupid.
"And you ate him afterwards?" Ligaya asks, immediately having the courage to turn around and face Anita, who is now wiping her hands hastily on her skirt.
"Ligaya, darling, eating him was the excursion," Anita says, pursing her lips. "Are you suggesting - "
"Well, how was I supposed to know?" Ligaya exclaims, throwing her hand in the air. "I still don't know how you get these men alone and feast on their blood."
Anita smiles up at her, the type that makes Ligaya weak on the knees. She just scoffs and leans against the wall of their cramped kitchen, pulling out a lone cigarette from the pocket of her shorts.
"I have my techniques and you have yours," Anita replies. "Let's just say both of us are pretty good at what we do."
Sighing, Ligaya rolls her eyes and strolls towards the lamp, where she dangles the end of her cigarette at the flame and waits for it to light. Anita's right - while she's more of a femme fatale (a title Anita so rightfully claimed when she learned the word, referring to herself as such while Ligaya wanted to tear her hair out of her head), Ligaya's more of a 'corner-a-person-in-a-dark-street-and-literally-suck-the-life-out-of-them' kind of person. However differing their methods may be, they make it work. They feed, they survive, they push on as 'normal people', whatever that means. They constantly move places, for fear of being tracked down or seen as the death rates keep rising. They live. And living is more than enough for Ligaya, even if that means losing Anita to another man every single night.
She takes a drag and puffs it on Anita's face. Shame. Doesn't even do anything to mar her looks. Ligaya bites down a laugh as the other woman coughs gently, waving her hand around the air.
"Li, not funny," Anita remarks, sliding off the counter.
"We're virtually immortal, Ani. Besides, it's - it makes me destress," Ligaya answers, watching Anita bustle around the kitchen.
For whatever reason, Anita always scarf down 'human food' after eating literal humans. She says hunting is physically draining. Ligaya wouldn't know. All she does is wait in silence and try her best to not move but she always prepares something for Anita, or at least buy her something from the store. Because she's such a good friend, who may or may not have been following Anita like a lovesick teenager for the better part of the century.
"There's food in the fridge. From McDonald's," Ligaya answers, as casually as she can.
Anita pouts as she wrenches the door open, pulling out a slightly damp container. "I prefer Jollibee."
"Take what you can get, asshole," Ligaya mutters, inhaling another puff of smoke.
"Fine. Ooh, chicken!"
"So," Ligaya asks, watching Anita swallow down fried chicken like a starved dog, which is supposed to be disgusting but instead she finds incredibly endearing, "where did you dump the body?"
"Details, details," Anita answers, barely coherent with her mouth stuffed with food as she waves around a chicken bone. "I just placed him. . . somewhere."
"Jesus Christ," Ligaya groans.
"Hoy! Do not use His name in vain, remember?" Anita reprimands, making a quick sign of the cross with the chicken dangling on her hand.
"Anita, we literally kill and consume actual, live human beings. If hell were real, we'd be in it by now."
Anita lets out a cackle of laughter, something that kids in their town said resembled that of a witch. Well. Look where they are now.
"You sound like my mother. The oil lamp doesn't help. We have an emergency lamp, Li. We're not in 1950 anymore."
"Eh, I like this better," Ligaya says, gesturing to the lamp hanging near the kitchen sink. "Besides, I love the smell of kerosene."
"Of course you do."
There's no hint of malice in Anita's words - it was almost fond, tender - but Ligaya would prefer them to be that, anything else than what gives Ligaya cascades of something strange at the pit of her stomach.
Ligaya stubs out her cigarette with the tips of her fingers, which Anita once said was cool (Ligaya wore it like a badge of honor, like she would never accomplish anything better than extinguishing fire with her various body parts). As the smoke dies out, the electricity flickers back on. She almost misses the way how the orange blaze of the fire made Anita look in the dark but it doesn't really matter - in whichever lighting, Anita always manages to disarm Ligaya, over and over again. It's pathetic.
"You have work tomorrow?" Anita asks.
"Yeah. My manager says that I'm his 'favorite employee of the month', whatever that means."
"Ooh, maybe you can get to take him."
"Or maybe he's being a total creep."
"Your point does make more sense, not going to lie," Anita says. "You heading to bed soon?"
"I'm still too worked up to sleep. I can still feel the guts of the lady I ate earlier inside my stomach."
Anita snickers, in a tone-down version of that laugh of hers, and presses a kiss on Ligaya's cheekbones, light as a feather. Ligaya feels like she could melt onto the floor of their kitchen as Anita walks to her bedroom, her footsteps getting heavier and heavier with each step, clearly tired. For whatever reason, Anita was always a morning person, not even after this whole thing happened to them.
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Ligaya sighs as she leans her head against the wall, too hopeless, too dumb, too in-love. She wants to bash her head against the wall and die but she doesn't want Anita to see that image, however often they see dead people.
Anita and Ligaya are far from normal but Ligaya tries to be. She's just your usual young woman in the city trying to go through day-to-day, despite of the fact that she turns into an actual monster at the stroke of midnight. In a way, her pining over her best friend, makes her feel grounded, makes her feel more humane in some way. She knows others don't consider her as human, but if loving and hurting are all just part of the human condition, then she'd be the most perfect human to ever exist on the planet.
She's just Ligaya, a seventy-five year old in the body of someone fifty years younger, a waitress at a restaurant, has some sort of nicotine dependance, eats people on the side, hopelessly in love with another woman with the enticing dark eyes and sickening grin. Human or not, she decides, she's still living - whatever living is, she still isn't quite sure, but she has an idea. Living is what things in this world are meant to do and it's what fuels Ligaya every day.
"Hey, can you go to bed?" Anita suddenly says as she emerges from her bedroom, her face groggy and her body swamped with a huge set of pyjamas she might have stolen from a victim.
Ligaya thinks that she's still too beautiful, too close to perfection.
"Why?"
"I can't stay up thinking that you're not sleeping."
"I said, we're im - "
Anita sighs. "I know. Just - go to sleep? Please?"
Ligaya, like every other living creature, is a fool. And, sorry to Anita's Catholic guilt, God be damned if she isn't the biggest fool on the planet.
She nods and follows the other woman to their shared bedroom. Tomorrow's another challenge, she thinks, but tonight, she's going to let herself let loose, like her wings against the midnight sky when she's feeling ravenous for blood.
3 notes · View notes
Text
The Circle Of Life
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Death doesn't seem so imposing when you know that you're dying--when you realised it a long time ago. Harry's journey as he deals with Cancer. Diary fic. Haphne. IWSC Season 1 Final entry. Hogwarts JP!
Written for the International Wizarding Schools Championship Season 1
Round: Finals!!!
Theme: Dittany which means healing, mentally, emotionally and physically and also injury (as you can't be healed if you're not injured). The theme is shown here as Harry trying his best to recover from cancer.
Year: Year 7
School: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. JP from Hogwarts!
Prompts: Potions (object) [additional]
Emerald (colour) [additional]
St. Mungo's (setting) [main]
Special Rule and Link: The special rule here is used by Showing 'birth' both Harry's own birthday, and his grandchild's birth. As for the link, In this fic the link is again Harry's birthday, as we're showing his feelings on his birthdays through different stages of his life, this being the last one. Mentions of infertility.
Word Count: 2190
***
14th January 2060
8:35 p.m.
Diary,
Death doesn't seem so imposing when you know that you're dying—when you realised it a long time ago. It's funny, really. We know we're all dying but rarely does it ever truly sink in. But in my case, I've had the pleasure of having realised this way back at the age of seventeen. I hadn't thought I'd get out of the Forbidden Forest alive again, especially if I were meant to die in the end, and so I had submitted to my sentence. I was as surprised as anyone at my continued living, I assure you, and with the amount of downright stupid things I've done in my lifetime—fighting Voldemort some five different times, riding thestrals, wandering into acromantula nests, and then contemplating becoming an auror before Daphne talked me out of it—I've already outlived my expectations, so I don't think it bothers me too much that death has come to claim me now.
Daphne and Hermione would both glare at me for saying that probably, and Sothis, Jacob, and Lily would frown. Acquiring blood cancer does not necessarily mean death, especially since it's a muggle disease, but at the age of 80, I have my doubts. Wizards might not be as affected by muggle ailments, but this is cancer. It's been nearly ten days since I've written to you, as you might have noticed, and that was because of the numerous tests they conducted and reconducted at St. Mungo's. I've had to quit teaching at Hogwarts because of this accursed illness. Those of my family who haven't had much exposure to the muggle world didn't realise just how serious cancer was, and they were rather unconcerned—it's a muggle disease, wizards always recover from muggle diseases—but Hermione knew exactly what it was, and how serious, and she passed this information to both Ron and Daphne—even when I begged her not to—who told others. So now, everyone is extra polite around me, and extra careful. I hate how everyone looks at me like I might shatter at any moment. Even Malfoy's started acting differently again, and it's just so frustrating!
I just want everyone to get back to normal.
Harry James Potter
***
8th February 2060
8:15 p.m.
Diary,
My health has gotten worse instead of better. Last week, I began coughing violently and realised that I was coughing blood. My body hurt. I also had a temperature and felt dizzy. Daphy took me to St. Mungo's as soon as she saw my pitiful state. I was kept there for a whole day while the healers ran tests and took samples. While the wizarding world doesn't use injections, their methods of extracting blood hurt just as much. The healers only let Daphy see me during around dinnertime after they thought me stable enough. Daphy was by my side the entire night after that, holding my hand, helping me eat, and then finally settling me down for the night. I hadn't seen her that tired in a long time, diary, and it was ... unsettling. I wonder if I'm being too selfish in not really caring if this cursed disease takes me down. Daphne would be shattered.
Hermione and Ron were there at the hospital before I woke up the next day, considerably late and still feeling pretty shitty. The two of them and Daphne were talking to a healer, and none of them had realised I was awake. I could only catch a few phrases of their conversation—flu, immune system, careful—but the grim expressions on their faces told me that whatever it was, it wasn't good. The healers sent me home with instructions to take some fifty odd potions every eight hours and to exercise regularly, but not so much that I overexert myself.
I was too tired the next three days to pick up a pen to write, let alone go for a walk. But yesterday, after Daphy and I got back from the walk she had coaxed me into going for, we came home to a pleasant surprise in the form of Lily and Sebastian. Lily has always been big on surprises, but the one she gave us yesterday was the best surprise I have gotten in a long time. They're expecting their first child in July! After a number of failed tries, Lily and Sebastian had both given up on trying to have children, but that right there was proof that miracles do happen. Daphne was so happy, she had tears in her eyes. So did I. For a moment there, I think all of us present in the room were a little misty-eyed. It took a little effort to digest that bit of news, happy as it was because our sweet little witch had grown so old so fast. Wasn't it just yesterday that I had first held her in my arms? She was finally going to be a mother now! I am happy as can be, of course, but I wonder if I'll be able to live long enough to see my grandchild in this life.
I really hope I do.
Harry James Potter
***
18th March 2060
8:00 p.m.
Diary,
I don't think I'd be able to stand a single more piteous look directed toward me, even if my situation is miserable. I feel tired all the time now, even though I've been taking all my potions on time and have done all the exercises that the healers had told me to do. My body still hurts sometimes, and I feel utterly useless. The healers in St. Mungo's still take samples of my blood to see if my condition is getting any better.
They don't say so to my face, but I'm only getting worse. It is clear by the looks they direct towards me, in how Ron and Hermione both always say goodbye to me at the end of the day as if it were their last goodbye, in how Daphne strokes my cheek at night when we're both in bed and tells me to stay strong for her. I wish they'd just tell me, so I don't have to go through everything pretending to be blissfully unaware.
Sothis and Jacob came to see me today. I hadn't seen them since my birthday last year. Sothis lives in America now with his family and practices as a curse breaker while Jacob has been wandering around the world with Lorcan Lovegood. They were upset when they'd been told of my cancer, of course, but today I truly saw how much my sickness really affected my family. If I had been my old self, I would not have wanted them to see me like this, but times have changed. At least I'm not in St. Mungo's because I wasn't able to fight a common cold.
I really do want to get better.
Harry James Potter
***
21st May 2060
8:40 p.m.
Diary,
Things have begun to look up for me now, and I feel I've gotten a little better for the past few weeks. I don't feel as tired anymore, and Daphy does not have to force me to get out of the house. Daphy could not be happier about this. I've begun working on a book to keep me occupied. This was Hermione's idea—to write a book on Defence Against the Dark Arts from my experience as a professor and what I learnt when I was still studying for it. That I have fought the supreme leader of the dark is an added bonus. I think the one single perk of being sick is that the children come to see me more often. The others came around too, recently—the Weasleys, Neville, Luna. It felt nice to see them all after so long, but it felt a little disconcerting that this might be the last time we saw each other. I suppose that was the reason they made the visit in the first place, to see me again while they still could.
In other news, I am in the news again. The Daily Prophet found out about my illness somehow, and it was all anyone talked about for the last week. Daphy and Hermione both blew up over the staff of St. Mungo's because no one else would ever leak any information to the Prophet of all people. Astoria, who works there, is having the board conduct an entire investigation to find the gossip.
Lily had her first contraction while she was here with us. It was a false alarm, the baby is due in the second week of August, but it felt strange and surreal. Everyone was excited though, Lily especially, even if she complained non-stop about her backache. Things are looking up, finally, and everyone, the healers included, think that I'm going to get better quite soon.
I hope I do.
Harry James Potter
5th July 2060
8:40 p.m.
Diary,
While my health had been stable enough for the past two months and was inching towards recovery, it has now gotten worse again. The healers think that I've been exposed to an infection which my body is not able to fight off. The incessant pain, the omnipresent tiredness have both returned with assorted bottles of potions that taste like sewer water.
I was kept at St. Mungo's for a week, and the healers were still reluctant to let me go home because apparently, my immune system has become so compromised that even the mildest of bacteria or virus could be the cause of my death. It wasn't until Hermione had reasoned with them that I was more likely to be exposed to pathogens—whatever those were—in a hospital than back home that they let me go. I've been told in no uncertain terms to take all my potions on time and to get plenty of rest. The worst part is that I am to avoid the outdoors completely, so no more walks or anything. Daphne looked defeated yet determined.
When they thought I wasn't listening, they also told Daphne and Hermione to keep the visitors to a minimum, so people coming to see me is also out of the question now, although Lily did come here the other day, so I guess the kids are allowed.
I had thought I was getting better, but now ... they don't say it to my face, but their pitiful expressions make it clear that my days now are numbered. I hope I get to see my youngest grandchild before I die, though. They aren't here yet, but I love them already.
Harry James Potter
***
31st July 2060
8:45 p.m.
Diary,
It's my birthday today, but so much has changed since last year. I was teaching at Hogwarts happily. People weren't scared of sneezing around me. I was cancer free. But most importantly, I didn't have a new grandson who looked exactly like me. His eyes are the same emerald green as mine, and he has a small tuft of jet-black hair, although I really hope he has better luck with it than I have had.
From what Daphy tells me, Lily had been visiting when her water broke. I don't know the exact details of what happened since I had been in St. Mungo's since the past week, but everyone panicked except Daphne, who had gone home for a while to shower and eat after leaving me in Hermione's care. She calmly called for a mediwitch from St. Mungo's and made preparations to transport Lily to the hospital for the delivery.
The baby was two weeks early, but still very healthy. He had curious green eyes, and the memory of how he looked at me with interest when I first held him is still fresh in my mind. I did finally get to meet my grandchild—Lily's first child—and I couldn't possibly be happier. If I were to die now, after I've seen my grandchild, I'd die happy. My princess had finally started a family of her own, and the baby looks just like me. He's a tiny and beautiful baby, and I am so proud. Lily and Sebastian are both beaming. They named him after me and Sebastian's father—Harry Alex Grahams.
I love him.
Harry James Potter
***
Daphne closed the diary shut on the morning of August the 2nd with tears rolling down her eyes. She put it beside her on the padded carpet she was sitting on and drew her knees closer to her. Harry had to go, leave, just as Lily's first child was born, just as he had turned 81. It was painfully sad. Lily had cried through the last night, and it had taken Daphne all she had in her to not join her in it and to comfort her instead. She took in a deep breath. Harry was right, though. The child was beautiful and looked painfully like him. At least she knew that he had died painlessly in his sleep. Happy. Content. His suffering had ended, and he had had the joy of holding his grandson in his arms. He had been happy. That was all that mattered.
10 notes · View notes
medea10 · 4 years
Text
My Review of Little Witch Academia
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Atsuko Kagari (nicknamed Akko) has always had a fascination with witches. Or should I say one particular witch! When she was a child, she saw a magic performance done by a famous witch named Shiny Chariot. After that, Akko decided then and there that she was going to become a witch just like Shiny Chariot. So when she became a teenager, she got the opportunity to enroll at Luna Nova Magical Academy. While this school has primarily been a place for witch’s only to hone on their skills, due to financial issues they opened the school up to non-magic users. And Akko has no magic in her whatsoever!
Tumblr media
We follow the antics of Akko as she tries to survive in a witch academy. During her time she’s managed to snag a wand that was once owned by Shiny Chariot (which she plans to return to), meet friends like Lotte and Sucy, start a rival with the school star Diana Cavendish, get one-on-one training from Professor Ursula (who has her own kind of past), and learn everything there is to know about becoming a great witch. But Akko is going to have a tough time because like I said, she has no magic in her whatsoever! BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: As I mentioned at the beginning, this series is under the thumb of Netflix (in every country). I haven’t had the opportunity to check out the subtitled version. As for the dub…boy, Erica Mendez is getting the choice roles in Netflix exclusive animes. I can’t complain, the lady does fine work. Plus Netflix gives me a chance to hear other new voice actors and seiyuus. Some were big misses with me, but others (like Sucy’s voice) won me over. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from. JAPANESE CAST: *Akko is played by Megumi Han (known for Yamato on Ore Monogatari, Momiji on Fruits Basket 2019, Kagari on Steins;Gate 0, Rio on YGO Zexal, and Chie on Tokyo Ghoul) *Sucy is played by Michiyo Murase *Lotte is played by Fumiko Orikase (known for Dianthe on Pokemon XY, Kyubei on Gintama, Riza on FMA: Brotherhood, Seras Victoria on Hellsing, Shirley on Code Geass, Rukia on Bleach, and Aki on Inazuma Elven) ENGLISH CAST: *Akko is played by Erica Mendez (known for Ryuko on Kill la Kill, Haruka/Uranus on Sailor Moon redub, Emma on The Promised Neverland, Nico on Love Live, Yuuki on SAO II, Retsuko on Aggretsuko, and Tsubaki on Your Lie in April) *Sucy is played by Rachelle Heger *Lotte is played by Stephanie Sheh (known for Mikuru on Haruhi Suzumiya, Kuro on Blue Exorcist, Nui on Kill la Kill, Hinata on Naruto, Orihime on Bleach, Illiya on Fate/stay night, Yui on K-ON, and Usagi/Sailor Moon on Sailor Moon) FAVORITE CHARACTER: I know in stories like these I always root for the underdog and they end up my favorite character…buuuuuuut…
Tumblr media
I like Sucy! Yeah, I like the little mischevious, mushroom-loving witch. And yes, I love the episode where Akko goes inside Sucy's subconscious and we see all the Sucy's inside Sucy.
Tumblr media
DISLIKED CHARACTER: I knew I couldn’t really hate Diana! I think most of the hatred I shared at her direction for the majority of the season was because of those two cronies that hung around her. Those two were catty bitches and I just hate those kinds of characters. But nothing could compare to Diana’s bitch aunt.
Tumblr media
God, fuck this woman! She literally tries to usurp Diana from taking over as head of the Cavendish family line. Just so she can give it to one of her bitch daughters! She’s seriously giving me Lady Tremaine vibes, it’s not even funny. You know it’s bad that I was rooting for them to die when they got into trouble. But Diana wasn’t going to let her bitch aunt and bitch cousins die so I should stop hoping for severe payback. SHIPPING: Hmm…the shipping category is going to be fun! I think it’s only because of that one episode that involves a bee sting and the person is smitten with the next person they see. And boy did Akko get her fill when not only Andrew falls for her, but Diana as well!
Tumblr media
Actually, I have thoughts of Andrew really taking a shine to Akko. I honestly thought there would only be two interactions at the most between him and Akko during the show. But surprisingly, there were more. I’m not really a fan of this ship, but I still find it cute. Hell, even Lotte found a boy that was interested in her at one point. She turns him down, but he still holds out hope. Also a cute moment! Hmm…at the moment I’m an open multishipper for this series. If Akko ends up with Diana, cool man! If she ends up with Andrew, whatever, I can dig it! If Akko ends up with Amanda, more power to you (and I can totally see that because Amanda is giving me total lesbo-vibes). What do you expect, this is like an all-girls school!
Tumblr media
You know what, I’m now leaning towards Akko x Amanda more than all the others. Don’t fight me on this, I just know I like it! ENDING: Up until the halfway point, a lot of the episodes are about Akko trying to make it as a witch. Did she surpass everyone’s doubts? While Akko was able to improve her magic a bit (I give it 5%), it’s not at the level as many of her classmates. I mean by episode 20, Akko still cannot fly a broom! That should tell you something. But what’s the one thing that seems to be missing from this series?
Tumblr media
An antagonist? Yeah, in comes Professor Croix! And to many of the students, she feels like she’s able to bring witchcraft into today’s era with her technology driven methods. And Akko certainly has taken a shine to her. However, Professor Ursula can smell this woman’s bullshit a mile away. Ursula was once the classmate of Croix. But back then Ursula was known as… Oh come on, it was so bloody obvious the moment Ursula met Akko.
Tumblr media
Ursula is really Shiny Chariot! Meanwhile, Akko ends up trying to speak these seven secret words that’ll unlock the wand she obtained in the first episode. You know, the wand that belonged to Shiny Chariot?! And Akko has managed to obtain six out of the seven secret words. She could be the one to get the seventh word, which was something Chariot was unable to do as a student. But this positivity ends with a looming war (over a soccer match) on the rise. In actuality, there’s a force around the town as well as certain moments at the school that have caused chaos. Yes, it’s Professor Croix exploiting people’s anger for her own research. Not only that, but she used Akko for her own selfish ambitions and as a result ended up injuring Shiny Chariot to a point of altering her magic (possibly permanently). That’s one thing. Then we get quite a big bombshell!
Tumblr media
AKKO’S MAGIC: Ever wonder why Akko has like zero magic ability?! When she saw Shiny Chariot’s performance as a child, her dreams and potential magic were taken by Chariot in order to make her performances more magical (due to audience members becoming disinterested in Chariot’s magic). Akko’s magic was taken away from her before she could even realize a thing. Damn! And you can just imagine Akko’s heartache finding out that her professor was really Chariot and that Chariot did that to not just Akko, but other children! After Chariot found out what her magic shows were doing, she immediately fell off the map.
Tumblr media
BACK TO THE CONCLUSION: One of Croix’s inventions went rogue and is officially threatening the world. And it’s up to Akko, Sucy, Lotte, Diana, Amanda, Constance, and Jasminka to catch up to this rogue missile invention. Now that Akko was able to obtain the seventh word, there’s a good chance they can take out Croix’s out of control missile. Croix thankfully realized the errors of her way and understood the pain she’s caused to her students and her former classmate. Croix and Chariot decide to give their all to help the girls as well. While five of the seven girls were able to give a big boost, it was Akko and Diana who took out the looming threat. That’s right, witches saved the world! Yeah, during the series a lot of people were kinda mean to or looked down upon Luna Nova and the witch race in general. Especially, those dickheads at Andrew’s prep school! With this act, I’m sure Luna Nova and the witches will finally get the respect they deserve. In the aftermath, yes Luna Nova is now receiving more respect from those that have been quite cruel to them throughout the series run. Croix is going away to do some research. One of her biggest plans was to restore Ursula/Chariot’s magic that was lost due to her own recklessness with Akko. The students go back to their lessons and…
Tumblr media
Akko (after 25 episodes) was able to float a few inches off the ground using her broom. She flew…sort of. I’ll let it count as a victory! THE TWO SPECIALS: A few years prior to the television series run, Little Witch Academia had two movies air. Now this is a different telling of the story. In the first special (which is 25 minutes), it has Akko come upon Chariot’s rod during a class assignment (instead of coming upon it in a forest like the first episode).
Tumblr media
And here’s a real kicker, while Akko is still the class screw-up and has the least amount of magic, here she actually has SOME magic. In the second special (which is 55 minutes), Akko ends up in trouble (like normal) and ends up having to do a punishment assignment. She has to help orchestrate a ritual which ends up turning into a parade. So Akko, Sucy, Lotte, Amanda, Constance, and Jasminka all end up working together to do this. But Akko wants to turn this into something for people to remember and always cherish. Like her experiences with the Shiny Chariot performances she saw as a child! But there’s always blow-back because at Luna Nova, Shiny Chariot is seen as a disgrace to traditional witches. And of course there was bound to be some disagreements when working with a big group. And despite a few hiccups, everyone was able to come together to put on a convincing parade for the crowd. Little Witch Academia was quite the enjoyable little story. Yes, it’s a root for the underdog kind of story and even though the television series seems to give Akko the short-end of the stick on the magic matter, it’s full-filling to see her accomplish quite a bit. Even if it took her until the final seconds to learn how to fly! I know it’s been about 2-3 years since the ending of the TV series and am wondering if this is it for the franchise. I know there are novels and games out for this, so maybe one day.
Tumblr media
But I do give a recommendation for those into witches, magic, and all that good stuff! It's full of fun characters, there's no harm in that. Currently, Netflix is the only outlet for this series (in just about every country). But Netflix does carry both the sub and dub (and several other languages). Now then, what’s my next Amazon/Netflix exclusive anime? Nope. You’re watching this.
Tumblr media
Rising of the Shield Hero? But isn’t that Crunchyroll or FUNimation? Don’t care. You’re watching this now. But I have a big list of other animes to wat… Tough shit. You’re watching this. You have no choice but to watch a modern Isekai!
44 notes · View notes
Text
I found a piece of fic that I wrote ages ago and decided never to post and miraculously did not delete! Which is rare for me! I delete too much! I think it’s pretty crap but I promised an anon a while ago that if I found something like this I’d share it (and apologies if there are errors this is a completely unedited first draft of something that I never finished).
Lily Evans is thirteen-years-old when her mother sits her down and explains that her body is about to "undergo some changes."
Her active participation in such a conversation is not how Lily pictured kicking off the summer holidays, but after two years at a boarding school that keeps her apart from her family from September 'til July, her mum is chomping at the bit to delve right into the Talk, lest her daughter learn about menstruation elsewhere—or god forbid, wake up covered in blood one morning and assume that she is shortly about to die.
Of course, Lily knows what to expect from her period. She can read, for one thing, and has numerous female friends. Beatrice got her first ever period at the start of second year, and on the train to school, of all places. Lily will be fine if left to her own devices, but her mother is so excited to talk about Puberty and Buying Bras and Now You're Becoming a Woman, and Lily doesn't have the heart to tell her that she's already quite clued in, thank you very much. She doesn't think she could live with inflicting such disappointment.
There's even a shoebox of props to hand, for Grace Evans is a nurse, and she wants her daughters to have all the information that she was denied at school.
Menstruation education station, she calls it.
"Tampons," her mother tells her, slapping the tiny, lipstick shaped contraption down on the kitchen table like she's preparing to place it as a wager in a high-stakes poker game. Her hand returns to the box and draws out yet another item. "Or pads. They're your two main choices. I'll give you a good supply of both before you go back, just in case, unless—do they have some other method, at Hogwarts? Some sort of magic potion? It's a very difficult subject to research, in my position."
Lily's father walks into the room—newspaper in hand, lips pursed as if preparing to whistle—catches sight of them both, then turns and walks right out again.
"What's wrong with Dad?" says Lily to her mother.
"Men are afraid of menstruation, sweetheart," Grace tells her, with a baleful glance at the door through which her husband has just exited, "because they're weak and silly, and can't be bothered to learn."
"Oh," Lily says, then lets out a laugh. "I suppose I won't ask Professor Slughorn how witches deal with periods."
"Heavens, no, he'll faint dead away."
Lily does not add that it would be rather funny to watch Slughorn faint to get out of an awkward conversation about the miracles of puberty. She doubts that he would feel comfortable talking to the boys about such a thing, let alone a member of the opposite sex.
Puberty is so much easier for boys, she reflects, and that's dead unfair. She may be but a girl and ignorant to the inner workings of the male body, but the only visible change she ever noticed in any of the boys in her year—specifically, in her house—was a sudden onslaught of squeaky voices. To make things more unfair, that phase didn't even last very long, except for poor Peter Pettigrew, who seems to be a squeaker by default.
Now she has to deal with people like Potter—to pick a name completely at random—acting like puffed-up, macho twits because their voices have finally broken.  
"I don't know what witches do normally," she says, "but I can always ask Madam Pomfrey. She's the matron at school. My friend Beatrice started hers last year but she's Muggle-born too, so she never thought to ask. Her mum just sends her pads."
"Make sure you do," says her mum, her tone almost warning. "I can send you whatever you need, but it'll be easier for you if there's some magical method you can access, especially for the cramps." She pauses, looking thoughtful. "And the mood swings. And the sore boobs—" Her eyes light up. "—which reminds me..."
Lily groans as Grace delves into the box again and extracts a small measuring tape, such as a tailor might use.
"I don't have boobs to measure," she reminds her mother, clasping both hands to her chest.
"Yet," says Grace, brandishing the rolled-up tape like a particularly tempting treat. "You don't have boobs to measure yet, but that doesn't mean you'll never have boobs." She nods down at her own chest. "I was your classic late bloomer—not so much as an insect bite until I was sixteen, then I ballooned out. Same with your sister. In any case, you've got at least enough to fill an A-cup, and you need to start wearing bras."
"I don't need a bra."
"Well, you're getting one. As soon as I've got you measured up, I'll take you to M&S and get you sorted."
"What else have you got in there?" says Lily, eyeing the battered blue box with a wary eye while her mother unfurls the tape.
"Just the essentials," says Grace airily. "Some leaflets from the hospital, panty liners, condoms—"
As if her mother has cranked up the dial on an embarrassment meter that only a parent has the necessary skills to operate, Lily immediately turns as red as her own hair. "Mum!"
"I'm not saying you need to use them—"
"I'm thirteen!"
"—but it won't hurt you to know how, for future reference!"
"Mum, no," says Lily, as firmly as she can, in her best attempt to sound as if she's taking a mature line on this, "I don't have any reason to want to know how to—how to use—honestly, no." She can't pretend. Her face feels all hot, as if it has been set aflame. Even the thought of what her mother is referring to makes her feel slightly sick. "Seriously, no, I don't want to learn—"
"You don't have to take them with you in September, of course, you're still only thirteen," Grace continues, completely undaunted by her daughter's mortification, "but it seems like you were just a baby five minutes ago, sweetheart. The time goes so fast, honestly, and it won't be long before you start to experience your own sexual awakening—"
"I'm going to my room," says Lily desperately, and shoots out of her chair.
"It's really not that bad—"
"I am grounded. I am grounding myself."
"Really, Lily, I'm just trying to help." Her mother lets out a hefty sigh. "Once we've measured you for a bra, I'll show you how it works on a banana, and you'll see that it's really not that complicated."
Lily Evans decides that she will never eat a banana split again.
***
The inconvenient, unwanted, and oft warned-of sexual awakening comes to hammer down Lily's door when she is fifteen-years-old, by which time her boobs have most certainly come in.
Despite a multitude of painfully awkward conversations with her mother—who doesn't say it, but seems desperate for Lily to fancy someone, anyone, so that they can gossip about it together—on the topic, she finds herself entirely unprepared for it.
She's unprepared because it's… weird.
Lily has had crushes before—sort of—fleeting things that seemed to exist because she thought they were supposed to, rather than stemming from any particular stirrings on her part. She's a late bloomer, just like her mum, and she knows as much. Bea and Mary have both been snogged, and Lily knew that she was trailing a little behind, but she never cared. It was fine and dandy and totally normal. She might even say that she's been lucky to escape it for this long.
It doesn't happen in the way she was expecting, not that Lily had any particular expectations, but had she ever, they would not have formed along these particular lines. It wouldn't be so embarrassing, or confusing—not the how or the why or the when or the where, but the what. The what, of all things. 
The what is the thing that baffles her most, because Lily always figured that it would be some transformative, meaningful thing, like an effortlessly witty conversation with a mature intellectual—tall, dark, and a little bit older than she, a boy with soulful blue eyes and scholarly interests.
The what should not be James Potter's arse in a pair of jeans.
But it is.
The thing about the magical world at large is that the robes are basically formless—loose, large, flapping things that hide the body away and become quite annoying during hotter months—but younger witches and wizards will opt not to wear them when it isn't strictly required. Throw Hogwarts, where robes are the mandatory default, into the mix, and something as unexpectedly disarming as a structurally spectacular derriere may spend a vast amount of time being cunningly hidden.
It's the last Hogsmeade trip of fourth year—with summer looming tantalisingly ahead like a ripe apple dangling from a tree—when Lily steps out of Scrivenshaft's and finds herself perfectly positioned to spy James Potter's denim-clad backside as he walks past with his mates.
Her eyes flick over his form as she scans the general area, then Lily finds her gaze dragged abruptly back, as if she's snagged her sleeve on a nail whilst passing through a doorway.
And now she's staring.
At an arse.
At James Potter's arse, which is the worst of it. If Lily has just discovered that she is, in fact, a person with a thing for bums, James Potter's bum—a neat, compact, beautifully fashioned marvel that looks like a peach in those bloody jeans (what monster let him go out in public wearing those things?)—should not have been the catalyst for this discovery, because James Potter is an immature sod, a walking headache, and a bloody annoying git. He and his gang of mates are childish boors, and Lily considers herself to be quite above their general tomfoolery.
She doesn't want to stare, but her eyes won't cooperate.
She likes it, and as she's quite certain that she doesn't much like James Potter, that makes even less sense than the school’s policy on using quills in a world where ballpoint pens exist. Would that she could deny it to herself… but Lily is not deluded. She can recognise the pleasure she's deriving for exactly what it is.
And that is just… not acceptable.
And how dare he, really?
"James Potter," she says hotly, finding herself suddenly and inexplicably compelled to acknowledge his existence, point him out, say his name, anything, "is a complete and utter toerag."
"What?" says Beatrice, who has been counting coins in the palm of her hand.
"Potter is a toerag," Lily repeats, even as she's telling herself to stop, shut up, why are you letting these words come out of your mouth? "I can't believe McGonagall even let him come here after the prank he pulled the other day."
"He got a bunch of detentions," says Mary, eyeing Lily curiously.
"Isn't that enough?" seconds Bea. 
"Why are you so angry?" Mary adds. "What's he done to you?"
"Nothing, he's just an arse." 
That's an unfortunate choice of words, Lily thinks, colouring nicely.
"Right, but he's always an arse," Mary presses on. "Why are you so angry about it now?"
"Nothing," Lily repeats, "but he just walked by and it reminded me that he's been pissing me off lately."
"If you say so, I suppose," says Mary, looking nonplussed, but a giggling Beatrice sticks her free hand in the air, waving as if to signal a rescue ship.
"Oi, Potter!" she bellows.
Several heads, including James Potter's, turn in their direction.
"Potter!" Beatrice repeats, waving him over.
Lily's heart leaps into her throat, gets stuck, and slides sheepishly back down to her chest.
"What are you doing?" she hisses, taking a swipe at Beatrice's arm.
"If you're pissed off with him, you should tell him to his face," says Bea, dodging out of Lily's grasp to beckon Potter over. "More fun for me that way."
Mary snorts, while Beatrice grins like a cunning fox. Meanwhile, Potter has left his friends to wait for him outside the Three Broomsticks, and is sauntering over with his hands in his pockets.
"I hate you," Lily mutters to Bea.
"That's right," says Bea, smiling broadly, "get it all out of your system."
"I don't want to talk to Potter."
"Then you shouldn't have been mouthing off abo—hey!" says Beatrice brightly, as Potter draws level with their group. "Look who it is!"
"Hello to my adoring fans," he says, with a grin that would be charming, if only it were spread across any other face, and widens considerably when his gaze lands on Lily. "Alright, Evans?"
Potter has been doing this lately, offering bog-standard greetings to the masses, then following them up with, "Alright, Evans?" as if he’s been compelled to single Lily out.
Knowing him, there's some wildly nefarious reason behind it, and Lily persists in believing that despite Bea's insane theories pertaining to thoughts and feelings of the romantic persuasion.
"It means a lot that you don't consider me a fan," she says coolly.
"It's not my place to tell all your secrets," Potter replies. "What did you buy?"
She frowns. "What?"
"In Scrivenshaft's." He nods to the shop behind her. "What did you buy?"
"That's none of your business."
"Oh, right, because Scrivenshaft's is known for selling top secret wizarding spy equipment, and the world as we know it will end if you tell me," he says, sending her a flat look. "Why'd you call me over?"
Lily has to force the corners of her mouth to stay determinedly downturned, rather than laugh, which she really wants to do. "I didn't call you over."
"Didn't you?"
"No, you idiot. Beatrice did."
"That's strange. Could've sworn it was you." His eyes haven't budged from her face for a second, and Lily is beginning to feel irrationally fearful that he's seen her ogling his arse. "Why'd Beatrice call me over?"
"Because Lily wants to talk to you," says Beatrice.
Lily wants to die on the spot.
70 notes · View notes
365daysofsasuhina · 4 years
Text
[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Seven: Dogs ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]
“So...do you know any Nightwalkers besides vampires?”
Sipping some strange fruity drink she got him, Sasuke gives Hinata a glance. It’s the day after her perilous trip (which was technically a kidnapping) to see the vampiric Senator, Uchiha Madara...the leader of Sasuke’s coven, and one of Japan’s most powerful people, human or otherwise. Funny...during all their time talking, this particular subject has never come up. “...why do you ask?”
“Well...Madara said something about an associate of yours…? And that they - they might know another witch.”
That earns a pause. “...well, as for the latter part, I have no idea,” Sasuke admits. “This is news to me...must be something he’s been working on in the background while you and I have had...other things to worry about.” In all honesty, he hadn’t really considered that aspect, being too wrapped up in Hinata’s fate the night before to think about it. “If he does know about another witch...well, that’ll open a whole new can of worms. This one might not be friendly...or might be stronger than you.”
“Do you think...that’s what he had in mind about training me?”
“No clue. I’ll talk to Itachi once I head back, see if he knows anything. As for the rest of your question…” He rubs at his chin, feeling a hint of stubble. He’s been so distracted by the past several days’ business, he hasn’t had a chance to shave. A mental note is made to tend to that when he gets home. “Depends on what you mean by ‘know’. I encounter other Nightwalkers all the time when I’m working. But as for those I know to any real degree...a few. There’s the harpy hybrid I’ve told you about: the one Madara keeps around as an aerial spy.”
“Yes...I remember. The one he…‘collected’.”
“...yeah. She and I don’t get to talk much, but she’s nice enough. As for others...there’s a werefox named Naruto I know. Real pain in my neck...he’s always doing something stupid.”
“A werefox…?”
“Mhm. They’re where the legends of kitsune come from,” Sasuke elaborates. “Technically he’s only a halfblood. His mother was a fox, and his father human.”
“Really?!”
“Mhm. It’s rare, but it happens. Thing is...you can’t ever let it slip. You can have human friends, partners, even family...but they can’t know what you are. If they find out...the mandates take precedence.”
A sinking knowing settles in Hinata’s gut. “...did...did someone find out…?”
Sasuke sighs. “...yeah. The thing about baby Nightwalkers is that they don’t really have any control over their Shifting abilities. So not long after he was born...Naruto turned into a fox kit. Story goes that his father was surprised, but not afraid. But within the night...Enforcers were sent out. Both parents were eliminated.”
Hands lift to hide Hinata’s face, horrified eyes staring over her fingers. “...no…! How did they know?”
The Uchiha nods grimly. “I don’t know...but it meant a tough life for Naruto. He was passed around a few people until his running away deemed him fit enough to survive on his own. He wandered the streets and took to some...less than legal habits. Foxes are sly, and he often gambles with humans. His senses are keener, so he almost always wins. I dunno how many times he’s gotten this close to being exposed and eliminated.
“He and I were friends growing up, believe it or not. So I do my best to bail him out when I can.”
“...wow...poor guy…”
“He’s doing all right. Last I heard he was trying to work his way up into ranks within the werefox community. I think he has a fool’s dream of easing up the mandates so no other halfbloods face what he faced. But...they’ve been in place for centuries. I doubt there’s much changing them now. But at least it gives him something to strive for.”
Hinata considers him. “...other things have been in place for centuries, but you seem determined to change them,” is her soft counterpoint.
“...my methods are just as difficult, and a lot more dangerous...but a life is easier to end than a law in our world.”
A thoughtful silence falls.
“...anyone else?”
“...yeah, actually. I know a werewolf.”
“Really? I thought vampires and werewolves hated each other?”
That earns a snort. “That’s grossly exaggerated. Wolves ‘hate’ us because we smell like blood, and their noses are so sensitive. And we ‘hate’ them because they’re typically more...brash and blunt. Vampires have a thing for cordiality and manners. We both have hierarchies, but they work in vastly different ways.
“Anyway...this wolf got wrapped up by accident. See, he grew up with one of our own named Obito. They got into a serious scrap with some Hunters when they were young, and Kakashi - the wolf - saved Obito’s life. It cost him an eye, and Obito suffered some wounds he’s still got scars from, but...they made it out alive. As thanks, Madara’s kept tabs on him. He’s not officially an Enforcer yet, but it’s just a matter of time. It’s rather unusual for Senators to ‘hire’ Enforcers outside their specie...but each have their advantage. Kakashi’s got a nose even keener than ours, just like the harpy’s got her wings: they’re useful on occasion for Madara.”
“...he really is a jerk, using people like that,” Hinata mumbles, making Sasuke give a short, barking laugh.
“Yeah, well...that’s just how it is, I’m afraid.”
“So...are werewolves just...wolves? Or can they be dogs?”
Sasuke brightens a bit, impressed at her reasoning. “They can be, yeah. See...bestial lines can vary a lot. Like how a mermallian can be any specie of large fish or sea mammal. Or a harpy can be any specie of bird. Same goes for werebeasts. There’s different ursines, canines, felines...on and on.”
Hinata mulls that over for a moment before giggling.
“...what?”
“I...want to see a were-chihuahua.”
Sasuke actually chokes on a laugh, doubling over slightly.
“Wouldn’t that be f-funny?! Or, or! A were-poodle!”
“I don’t know if...if that’s how that works,” Sasuke manages to reply between attempts to stifle laughter.
“Aw, really? But I want to see one!”
“Well...maybe someday. But I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Hinata actually pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “...you know...I think I might have known a werewolf when I was young.”
“Whoa, really?”
“Maybe...there was a boy I went to school with, his name was Kiba. He was...very enamored with dogs. He knew everything about them! He even snuck his puppy to school more than once, he hid it in his coat...the teacher got so mad…”
“Well...I don’t know if that means he was a werewolf, but...maybe.”
“He could befriend any dog! Even if it was angry and barking, it was like they just...knew.”
“...huh. Guess I can’t know for sure. Remember his last name?”
“Inu, something...Inuzuka?”
“Maybe I can found out. Given your proclivity for seeing our kind, maybe he was.”
“Do Nightwalkers go to human schools?”
“Most of the time, yeah. But typically only once they’re old enough to understand they cannot, under any circumstance, Shift in front of human classmates. Most are kept under the guise of a home schooled education until then, or given false alibis about moving from other schools.”
“I suppose that makes sense. It makes me w-wonder how many I knew, and just...never realized. I can see a bit more than humans, but...well, if they have to be so careful, maybe I just never saw them.”
“It’s pretty likely. And a good thing you didn’t - it might’ve gone poorly for them if you had.”
Knowing what that means, Hinata goes quiet at the implication.
In the ensuing silence, Sasuke finishes his drink. He actually enjoyed it, being more sour than sweet. Sweet things just...never sit well with him. “...well, got any more questions? Or should I call it a night?” While he still has quite a few hours ahead of him, Hinata can only stay up so late given her human university schedule.
“Hm...not for now,” she admits. “I feel like there’s still s-so much I have left to learn about people like you.”
“It’s a lot to know. Especially if you didn’t grow up living it.”
“Well...I’ll just have to keep asking questions, then,” she replies with a small smile.
Sasuke does the same...but then loses the expression. He’s loathe to ask, but… “So...when do you want to give Madara your answer?”
As expected, Hinata wilts a bit. “...in a few more days, I think. I know in the end I can’t avoid it, but...I’d still like to wait, just a little.”
“I understand. If you need anything, just text.”
“I will. Thanks for coming to see me. It...helps.”
“Any time. And thanks for the...what was this again?”
“Limeade!”
“Lime...ade?”
“Mhm. Like lemonade, but with lime!”
“...huh. I liked it.”
“Good! I’ll get you another one next time.”
Next time...he’s always comforted by that. “...sounds good. Get back safe, all right?” Without the threat of Madara looming - and in fact, with what’s likely his protection given his investment in Hinata - Sasuke doesn’t feel nearly so fearful to let her return alone.
“I will. And...you too, Sasuke.”
...she still hasn’t brought back the honorifics. “Yeah. Will do.”
                                                          .oOo.
     (This is a sequel to days 35, 44, 52, 80, 82, 105, 115, 133, 159, 162, 188, 193, 289, and 298!)       More of the Nightwalkers crossover! Something a bit more lighthearted than the last several in this mini series :'D i figured Hinata's been through enough: we needed something to distract her a bit. Of course...there's no avoiding it in the long run, but she seems pretty calm.      Otherwise...not too much to say about this one? But it's late and I need some sleep, so...I'll call it there! Thanks for reading~
17 notes · View notes
theowlandthekey · 5 years
Text
We Don’t Need Covens: In This Essay I Will...
I'm a big fan of Sarah Anne Lawless. I never got the opportunity to speak with her personally, but for those of you who've been around long enough, you likely know about her blog discussing traditional witchcraft and her shop. I often found her posts to be inspirational, providing a unique clarity on subjects that most books skip over. To this day her belladonna ointment is one of the few things that can make my wife's back spasms stop.
Unfortunately both her blog and her shop have closed up. All I can find are interviews with her. In a very broad sense, Lawless came out about abuse and manipulation within the pagan community. She named names and instead of addressing the problems and having an open discussion about it, she was harassed until she backed off.
It upset me at the time in a very distant sense. As I said I never knew her, but I admired her passion and the certainty with which she practiced her craft. Though it's now long after the fact, I finally think I have the ability to put my thoughts into words.
We don't need covens. We never did.
I've been practicing off and on for about fifteen years or so. I've played around with different methods of witchcraft, wicca, and pagan worship. I've been the member of a druid grove, a loose coven association, and even a few on-line groups that claim to do all their spell casting via chat. In the end, I've found them all to be much the same. They promise a great deal and frankly fall short of everything from education to community.
I'm likely going to upset quite a few people with this statement. That's fine. You shouldn't trust anybody who thinks they can tell you your business. But for what it's worth, take a moment to read this over. If something here strikes you as familiar, it might be time to consider another path.
IQuick Note: I know there is a lot of grey area as to what could be considered a witch. You have pagans, heathens, wiccans and the like. Some are comfortable being called witches while others are not. But the connotation changes depending upon each individuals definition. So let's look at witches as people who, for whatever reason, have decided to intentionally avoid Christianity in favor of practicing a personal path of self-realization and independence involving magic, spells, enchantments and the like.
Cult Mentality
First thing you ought to consider is the potential for manipulation and control that exists in any group. This is especially true whenever matters of religion and faith are concerned. It's a touchy subject, no doubt. People are particular about religious practices. For my part, I maintain that witchcraft isn't a religion or a faith. It's a craft. But that doesn't change the fact that people will use religion as a method for controlling others. Especially others who are hungry to fit in with a group that they feel represents them. For this very reason, I firmly believe that witches should avoid becoming a congregation of any kind. Too many of us think of witchcraft as a religion, and while you can play pretend all you like most of us were raised Christian and still have difficulty shaking off the mimicry of organized religion. Our power is in our independence and our ability to think for ourselves, and it becomes much more difficult to do this when you form yourselves into a coven.
Respect My Authority
On that note, you can't form a group without some kind of a hierarchy making itself apparent. I have a strong distaste for covens who create arbitrary titles. They're largely meaningless. You don't really need a high priestess or an archdruid to go around wearing robes with more trim than everybody else. It's just an excuse for someone to hold themselves higher and make decisions without consulting anyone. You'll often find that people who hold these kinds of titles become very upset when someone disagrees with them and find ways to flex their authority in a 'funny' or 'joking' way. Basically telling others that if you disagree with them then you don't need to be there. This comes off especially hard on people who may be new to the craft and are still seeking approval.
Calling Ourselves Out
As sexual abuse allegations are on the rise, we have a duty to be aware of people within our community who put others in danger. We have heard it said that 'while not all priests are abusers, abusers tend to gravitate towards positions of authority'. This is no less true just because those leaders are witches and not priests. You don't get a Free Pass. Covens and groves all seem to want that central authority figure to which they can turn to. We tend to protect them because these people act as a spokesperson for us as a whole. But this does not mean they should be protected if they behave reprehensibly! They are not above the law and if we really want to present ourselves as being different from Christians, we should take a stance of pushing out people who are abusers and manipulators.
But here's the thing. We seem to have this self-righteous indignation that comes with being witches and pagans. Any questioning or perceived threats, especially ones that come from outside the community, are deemed as being biased because of Christian society. While this isn't entirely untrue, it also has a problematic effect on us wearing a permanent set of rose-tinted glasses whenever we look at the pagan community and it's 'stars'. Instead of seeing them as human beings with flaws, we view them as celebrities. We avoid using critical thinking skills when someone in the community comes up against criticism and it can end up damaging our reputation as a whole.
Witch n’ Bitch
While this is one of the most obvious issues with modern witchcraft groups, it is far from the bottom of the cauldron. While many groups come together promising to provide resources for education, help learning rituals and practices, and open discussions, I find that very few of them ever deliver on these promises. I've joined more than a few witchcraft 'study groups' only to have them disband after a few sessions for one reason or another. Others have sessions which quickly get derailed from methods and history into a bitching session about over covens, daily drama, or the like. Instead of helping interested parties by providing resources and discussion, it basically becomes a witches tea party. Brooms are snatched.
Exclusion By Design
Something else I want to bring up is the exclusion by design if not by intention concept that plagues covens. I have seen this manifest in more ways then I can count. Most typically it crops up in the form of “you're not experienced enough in our particular tradition”. However, I've noticed a lot of problems with most pagan groups being painfully white. The excuse is that this makes sense because most witchcraft traditions are European. However, that doesn't seem to stop most witches from liberally grabbing whatever non-European cultural paraphernalia they feel fits their witchy aesthetic. The most notable victims being the American Indians, the Voodoo/Santeria practitioners, and Mexican folk beliefs. I've been told by several people that this isn't on purpose. It's just how it ended up. But when you have to triple check everybody on a Norse Heathen group chat to be sure none of them have any racist ideology there is an inherent problem with the community which is long overdue for exposure.
Queer Craft
I’d like to bring up the patriarchal and hetero-normative slant that is heavily enforced in modern witchcraft and neopaganism. I want to preface this by saying that when I think of a witch, I think of a woman who lives apart from societal norms. She is autonomous. She is self-aware. She is unruffled by others perceptions of her. This is what makes her a force to be reckoned with. Yet much of wicca and neopaganism strives to enforce a very heteronormative perception of a woman's role in society by establishing the narrative of the Maiden/Mother/Crone archetype. While there is beauty in each of these phases of life and there is nothing wrong with a woman finding power in them for herself, enforcing them as a role model for what a woman should be has dangerous implications. A woman must be a virgin, reproductive, or too old to bother with. And it should come as no surprise that concepts have no real male counterpart.
This becomes an even bigger problem as we look forward to a more inclusive world where we are learning to recognize a larger spectrum of gender and sexuality. Where does the Queer witch fit in with these very narrow perceptions of the divine within the self? The pagan community loves to talk about itself as an accepting and open community that embraces all sexualities openly. But that isn't very well reflected in its liturgy and conception. I don't think this gets discussed much because people have heralded the God/Goddess, Horned God/Earth Goddess format for so long that we take it for granted despite these perceptions being relatively modern ones. While there are some traditions which put emphasis on the Queer spectrum and embracing it as a source of power and self-realization, they are few and far between.
Psudo Ethics
The final thing I want to bring up is the irritating moral high-ground that people in the pagan community are so willing to put forth any time we are questioned about our beliefs. It is just as irritating if not more so than listening to Christians proselytize. The Wiccan Rede has held a position for a long time as a general set of standards for what witches and wiccans should consider before acting or casting spells. However, I'm pleasantly surprised to see more of a discussion happening on morality in witchcraft. We don't exist to turn the other cheek. While I'm not a believer in the 'strike first' policy, I am a believer in defending myself when attacked.
I see a lot of judgment happening in the wiccan community, especially now that witchery is in the forefront of social media. People poking their noses into how others practice and deciding to take it upon themselves to 'correct' how another practitioner does their work. I understand why some people want to pursue a more positive and affirming lifestyle through wiccan practices. There is nothing wrong with that. But I confess myself irritated when I'm chided by other witches for casting a curse or have a discussion with a demon. My prerogatives are not your moral imperative, nor are any other witches. So long as my actions are not directed against you, it isn't any of your business what I get up to.
In Conclusion
Ironically, one of the biggest issue with discussing if not resolving many of these issues is that we, as witches/pagans and the like, are NOT a unified group. We are a loose collective. We don't have one central figure who decides doctrine. We don't have any of those things that make for dogma. The fact that we can choose to act independently of one another is a big part of our power. It emboldens us to think for ourselves, question tradition, and seek out new methods and practices which are better suited to our needs. Witchcraft does not begin and end with the anathema and the chalice. We can choose to both acknowledge the gods without permitting them too much influence over our lives. We can dance naked under the full moon while enticing a demon or just make a hot cup of tea while we listen to the rain and meditate. All of this is within our grasp.
But before we can practice together, we have to learn how to function together. And right now I don't' see a great deal of that happening. I believe that by learning how to be ourselves first, by practicing as solitary and independent witches before seeing out a group, we can be more confident overall. After fifteen years of practicing, I can tell you truthfully that I haven't learned anything in a group that I couldn't have learned by studying and practicing on my own. Mostly because 90% of the groups out there read the same damned books I do and are more into repetitive ritual than anything else. I would have loved to work with someone like Sarah Anne Lawless, even just to attend a few workshops led by her. Until we can learn to be better individuals as witches first, I don't know if our community can be better together.
26 notes · View notes
coffeebased · 4 years
Text
I won’t be the first or last person to marvel at how quickly February whizzed past, especially in comparison to January’s gauntlet. To be completely fair to February, it had the ongoing COVID-19 international epidemic, as well as the ABS-CBN shutdown crisis, the anti-terrorism bill, the reminder that historical revisionism re: the Marcos dictatorship is alive and well… and those were just the actual headlines.
I must digress before I spiral.
I read 12 books in February, half of which were newly released in this month. I’ve split my post up into three parts like I did last month: one-shots, parts of series, and re-reads. It seems to be working well for me.
Tumblr media
  Prosper’s Demon by K.J. Parker
The unnamed and morally questionable narrator is an exorcist with great follow-through and few doubts. His methods aren’t delicate but they’re undeniably effective: he’ll get the demon out—he just doesn’t particularly care what happens to the person.
Prosper of Schanz is a man of science, determined to raise the world’s first philosopher-king, reared according to the purest principles. Too bad he’s demonically possessed.
After I read Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City last year, I knew that I wanted more by Parker. I considered delving into his back catalog, which I still will probably do, but I saw that he was releasing a new book in Feb 2020, so I jumped on that first. Prosper’s is exactly up my alley, what with the discussions of morality and the greater good with demons, and quite a bit of engineering. I’d admired the voice of the main character in Sixteen because he was dry and very caught up in doing what needed to be done, and the main character has the same appealing values. It’s a short read, but it sticks in the teeth and fills the belly.
Tumblr media
  Paladin’s Grace by T. Kingfisher
Stephen’s god died on the longest day of the year…
Three years later, Stephen is a broken paladin, living only for the chance to be useful before he dies. But all that changes when he encounters a fugitive named Grace in an alley and witnesses an assassination attempt gone wrong. Now the pair must navigate a web of treachery, beset on all sides by spies and poisoners, while a cryptic killer stalks one step behind…
Kingfisher, also known as Ursula Vernon, tends to write capable and damaged characters falling in with each other and foiling plots. She also tends to write paladins very well, which is a personal delight. I always enjoy a Kingfisher story, because the characters do the sensible thing more often than not, and she deals with trauma very compassionately, from what I suspect is a personal viewpoint. Her books are also usually very funny, very disturbing, and no-nonsense, scratching that Terry Pratchett Witch itch when I miss him very much. Grace is along the same lines, with a good solid HEA that leaves everyone, including the reader, satisfied.
Tumblr media
  Kindred, a Graphic Novel Adaptation by Octavia Butler, adapted by Damian Duffy and illustrated by John Jennings
I lost an arm on my last trip home.
Home is a new house with a loving husband in 1970s California that suddenly transformed in to the frightening world of the antebellum South.
Dana, a young black writer, can’t explain how she is transported across time and space to a plantation in Maryland. But she does quickly understand why: to deal with the troubles of Rufus, a conflicted white slaveholder–and her progenitor.
Her survival, her very existence, depends on it.
This searing graphic-novel adaptation of Octavia E. Butler’s science fiction classic is a powerfully moving, unflinching look at the violent disturbing effects of slavery on the people it chained together, both black and white–and made kindred in the deepest sense of the word.
Kindred, the novel, is on my Next 20s list. I had meant to read it before I read the GN, but picked up the graphic novel based on a friend’s recommendation. The graphic novel is searingly painful, and I enjoyed reading it, but there are parts of it that feel slightly disjointed. I’m not sure if it’s because of the time travel, or if it’s an adaptation problem. It made me want to read the novel immediately, which is what I am reading right now. I don’t think that I’ll be able to properly synthesise my thoughts about this book until I’ve read the original.
    Mirror: The Mountain and The Nest by Emma Rios and Hwei Lim
A mysterious asteroid hosts a collection of strange creatures – man-animal hybrids, mythological creatures made flesh, guardian spirits, cursed shadows – and the humans who brought them to life. But this strange society exists in an uneasy truce, in the aftermath of uprisings seeking freedom and acceptance, that have only ended in tragedy. As the ambitious, the desperate and the hopeful inhabitants of the asteroid struggle to decide their shared fate, a force greater than either animal or human seems to be silently watching the conflict, waiting for either side to finally answer the question: what is worthy of being human?
Recommended to me by a new friend who’d heard I was into sci-fi and graphic novels, who absolutely hit the nail on the head with this rec. The art is beautiful, dreamy, and layered, and it keeps you tied to the story as the authors build what is a magnificent construction in your head. The authors do some really lovely things with timeskips that I have no idea how to talk about without spoiling anything, and I only regret that we weren’t able to linger through the second volume. I’m don’t know why there isn’t more of Mirror, but I do appreciate how they tied everything up as well as they could in two volumes. Looking forward to more like this in the future.
Tumblr media
  Heartstopper: Volume Three by Alice Oseman
In this volume we’ll see the Heartstopper gang go on a school trip to Paris! Not only are Nick and Charlie navigating a new city, but also telling more people about their relationship AND learning more about the challenges each other are facing in private…
Meanwhile Tao and Elle will face their feelings for each other, Tara and Darcy share more about their relationship origin story, and the teachers supervising the trip seem… rather close…?
You can read all of Heartstopper and its future updates here. Heartstopper is a lovely slice of life comic, PG13 at best, that really takes me back to my own mid-teens. The story is centered around the developing relationship of two young boys, Charlie and Nick, and it really deals with it respectfully. It tackles a lot of teen issues without being too preachy about it, which is probably the least inspiring thing I could have written about it, and integrates it deftly into the story. The art style is adorable and really complements the sweet story. This volume, just released this month, revolves around a class trip to Paris, and there are some shenanigans that you’ll have to read for yourself.
  Sixty Six Book 2 by Russell Molina and Mikey Marchan
Kuwento ni Celestino Cabal. Kabebertdey niya lang. Mayroon siyang natanggap na regalo na ngayo’y unti-unti niyang binubuksan. Ika nga ng matatanda, “Huli man daw at magaling, maihahabol din.”
The story of Celestino Cabal. His birthday has just passed. He received a gift that he now gets to open, bit by bit. As the old saying goes, “Better late than never.”
This is the synopsis of the first book. There isn’t an official synopsis for the second book online, and I hesitate to write my own. Sixty Six Book 2 was released during February Komiket, and since I had been waiting for it for a few years, I had to go to the event even though everyone’s been iffy about going into crowded spaces due to COVID-19. I was excited to read this but unfortunately, I don’t think it capitalised on the foundation set in Book 1. The artist was different, and I admired their work on a technical level, as well as their humorous use of WASAK as a sound effect. I don’t know if there’ll be a third book, but the author has made themselves a little leeway for that possibility at the end of this volume.
Tumblr media
  Thank You, Jeeves, Jeeves #5 by P.G. Wodehouse
The odds are stacked against Chuffy when he falls head over heels for American heiress Pauline Stoker. Who better to help him win her over but Jeeves, the perfect gentleman’s gentleman. But when Bertie, Pauline’s ex-fiance finds himself caught up in the fray, much to his consternation, even Jeeves struggles to get Chuffy his fairy-tale ending.
This book was in my next 20s! So I’m accomplishing one of my 2020 reading goals, yay! But hot damn there is some racist language in this book. Every time I was finally sinking into the story boom! Racist language! And I know that it was because of the time it was published, like I know that academically, but oof. That aside, the story is solid. It’s a comedy of manners AND errors with Jeeves ex machina, as per usual, but this is the first full Jeeves novel I’ve read, the rest were short story collections, and it was good to see the characters take more space. It certainly made the comedic payoff a lot stronger.
But oof.
Tumblr media
  Die Vol. 2: Split the Party by Kieron Gillen, Stephanie Hans, and Clayton Cowles
No one can escape DIE until everyone agrees to go home. Or rather, no one can escape DIE until everyone who is alive agrees to go home. The second arc of the commercial and critical hit of bleakly romantic fantasy fiction starts to reveal the secrets of the world, and our heroes’ pasts. Yes, they can’t escape DIE. They also can’t escape themselves. Collects issues #6-10 of DIE
CHARACTERISATION. There’s a lot more breathing space in this newly-released volume of Die and I live for that! The first volume was a lot of the characters running from one place to the next and we, as readers, were being given the sense of setting. But volume two, you can feel Gillen just finally branching out and hitting us with their joined histories. I want to see more of how these older players will be dealing with the actions of their teenage selves, and I think the third volume will really show what the comic’s capable of. I’m really looking forward to that.
Tumblr media
  False Value, Rivers of London #8 by Ben Aaronovitch
Peter Grant is facing fatherhood, and an uncertain future, with equal amounts of panic and enthusiasm. Rather than sit around, he takes a job with émigré Silicon Valley tech genius Terrence Skinner’s brand new London start up – the Serious Cybernetics Company.
Drawn into the orbit of Old Street’s famous ‘silicon roundabout’, Peter must learn how to blend in with people who are both civilians and geekier than he is. Compared to his last job, Peter thinks it should be a doddle. But magic is not finished with Mama Grant’s favourite son.
Because Terrence Skinner has a secret hidden in the bowels of the SCC. A technology that stretches back to Ada Lovelace and Charles Babbage, and forward to the future of artificial intelligence. A secret that is just as magical as it technological – and just as dangerous.
The last Rivers of London book finished the first major arc of the series. It was a succession of explosions contained in a novel. So I was wondering what kind of tone Aaronovitch would be setting with False Value. Would it be all action, immediately? A filler story? I just wanted more Peter Grant. It could literally be an entire novel of Peter going to America to visit the Smithsonian museums and I would be on that.
False Value is a slow story but does a lot of table setting for the next arc. While the case of the book feels very small and contained, you can see that they’re being pulled into the larger world of magic. I did have a hard time with the first few chapters, but I’m not sure if this is a problem of the book, or because I sailed straight into it after the Jeeves book I had been reading.
I finished the book too quickly and now I have to wait for the next one. Bother.
Tumblr media
    The Thief, The Queen’s Thief #1 by Megan Whalen Turner
The king’s scholar, the magus, believes he knows the site of an ancient treasure. To attain it for his king, he needs a skillful thief, and he selects Gen from the king’s prison. The magus is interested only in the thief’s abilities.
What Gen is interested in is anyone’s guess. Their journey toward the treasure is both dangerous and difficult, lightened only imperceptibly by the tales they tell of the old gods and goddesses.
It’s March now, so my friends and I are starting on the second book in our read-along of The Queen’s Thief. I wrote last month that I was worried about how my friends would take the series, but really I needn’t have thought about it at all. The book stands well on its own, and my friends all got into the story. I hesitate to say that they loved it because there are four more books in the series, but they were definitely into it. Some of them had a hard time sticking to the two chapters a day schedule because Turner’s prose really just pulls you in.
I still love Gen, and I’m excited to relive his character growth.
Tumblr media
  The Farthest Shore, The Earthsea Cycle #3
Darkness threatens to overtake Earthsea. As the world and its wizards are losing their magic, Ged — powerful Archmage, wizard, and dragonlord — embarks on a sailing journey with highborn young prince, Arren. They travel far beyond the realm of death to discover the cause of these evil disturbances and to restore magic to a land desperately thirsty for it.
I’m reading Tehanu, the last book of the Cycle, now, and I’m scared of ending the series. It’s given me so much joy and peace these past few months. I slipped right into it after finishing The Farthest Shore, remembering that they overlap slightly, and that’s done a lot to soften the blow of the third book. Re-reading Farthest at this age, when things have been losing their colour and flavour, where I have to fight harder to keep myself honest and keep myself ‘good’, hits differently. I’ve been recovering, and the bitterness that Ged has over the loss of his mastery is too real to me. Of course, it’s a good book, but it hurts.
All right, that’s it for now. I’ll probably be popping in to post a little about Komiket and some other things I’ve been reading next week or so, so please keep a weather eye out for that next post!
February Reading Round-Up I won't be the first or last person to marvel at how quickly February whizzed past, especially in comparison to January's gauntlet.
4 notes · View notes
cecaeliana · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
            CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS
long post below the cut
001. When is their birthday?
February 2nd ( or, dependant on the Mal, roughly four or five days after Mal’s birthday )
002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?
Usually, there’s a party. But it used to be that this party was held in competition with Mal’s birthday party, so was vying for guests and needed the most numbers, but now she’s not doing that, she’d settle for a gathering of her closest friends (her crew) and maybe she’ll give herself a whole day off work, if someone can talk her into it.
003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea?
Coffee, it’s all they had on the Isle so she never really got accustomed to tea.
004. Do they prefer being alone or with others?
She prefers to have a crowd around her, people to talk to and show off in front of, but when it comes down to it, she’d always prefer to spend her time with a couple of close friends rather than a huge group.
005. Are they in good health?
Relatively. Uma is a fairly healthy individual, especially once the barrier comes down, because then she has access to her own divine nature and that protects her from most things that would get to a normal human. She is, however, like most Isle kids, somewhat small for her age from the early malnutrition and lack of expose to sunlight. So, better than most.
006. What sense do they most rely on?
Sight is probably the most important, in terms of relying on it to get things done, but touch is something she relies on for comfort especially. and when she’s in her cecaelia form her tentacles are more receptive to touch, as with an octopus. they help her navigate, especially underwater.  
007. Is your character an optimist or a pessimist?
Uma is a realist, first and foremost. Or that’s what she’d say, she’s actually pretty optimistic.
008. What is their favorite fairy tale?
Cliche as it is, the original version of the little mermaid, where the mermaid’s feet cause her physical pain and then the prince marries someone else so she throws herself into the sea, still in human form, and turns to sea foam. Yep, that one.
009. Do they believe in happy endings?
No, because there’s no such thing as a happy ending. Endings are sad, that’s how endings work. And if you reach a point where you feel like you’re going to live ‘happily ever after’ you have to remember, there’s always more work to be done and eventually one of you will outlive the other.
010. Do they believe in love at first sight?
Not really. Love has to be allowed to grow. You can’t love someone you don’t know. Because then you’re just in love with the idea of them and all the messy bits underneath are just going to put you off.
011. How would your character court the person of their dreams?
About as subtly as a brick through a window. Uma is never subtle, so she’d likely approach them and ask them out, or maybe she’d try and get some info out of them first about things they like.
012. What makes your character embarrassed?
Being reminded of Mal’s nickname.
013. Have they ever been bullied or teased?
Yes. So much. the Shrimpy nickname stuck. And people clung to the idea that Maleficent was ruler of the Isle and therefore Mal could do no wrong, so if Mal wanted them to ostracise Uma and call her names, then they would, for fear of suffering the same fate.  
014. Detail one secret shame your character feels.
She feels ashamed that the whole of the Isle wasn’t always her priority. She always knew she wanted to get her crew off the Isle, but that was as far as her plan went and she’s ashamed of the thought that if she’d gotten the trident and bargained her way off the Isle with her crew at the end of Book 3, she’d have left and not looked back just like the Core 4 did.
015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?
Both. She’ll insult you to take your guard down and then punch you. Insults thrown whilst fighting are just par for the course with Uma.
016. What is their choice of weapon?
Sword. Or, against a magical opponent, magic.
017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?
So much of the time. Way too much of the time. She’s trying to be better, but sometimes her first instinct is still to do something violent to get her point across and make people listen to her.
018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?
Gather her people around her, and then probably go out and fight. It would depend on the war and the nature of it. If it’s a landgrab from another kingdom, she might not bother, but if it’s a magical being attacking with intent to destroy the kingdom, she’ll get involved.
019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?
She kind of already has superpowers, so if she had to add something on top of what she already has, she’d probably take the ability to control plants so she can make crops grow on the Isle. If she had to lose all her powers and retain just one she would probably choose to retain shapeshifting.
020. What are their hobbies?
What’s a hobby? Uh, no, she enjoys singing, swimming and sailing. They might not necessarily be hobbies, but they’re the closest she gets.
021. How do they display affection?
Touches. Little touches on the arm, a hand in the hair. She likes to touch the people she cares for. Also protectiveness, so standing in front of them, throwing her arm in front of them. Joking around with people, rolling her eyes, punching them lightly in the shoulder.
022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?
The sunlight filtering through the clouds as the disappeared when the barrier was brought down, filling the Isle with light like it had never seen before. or. Harry’s eyes.
023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically?
She considers most people beautiful in their own right. But soft hair and pretty eyes are very nice. A strong jaw.
024. What do they consider ugly in others physically?
This is really hard. Uh, completely bald heads maybe? I honestly don’t know.
025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise?
Loyalty. Fierceness. Freedom of Spirit. Confidence.
026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?
Self-depreciation/Self-hatred. Dishonesty. Bigotry in any form. Bullying.
027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?
she doesn’t know, or isn’t sure what exactly would make her perfectly happy. but she feels happiest surrounded by her crew and out on the water. so probably at the wheel of her ship, with her crew around her, safe in the knowledge that the isle is functioning, is growing, is a safe and happy place to live. that her work is done.
028. What makes them laugh out loud?
she’s actually quite fond of laughing and she never tries to hide her laughter if it’s something funny. so, sarcastic comments, jokes, people doing stupid stuff, people saying stupid stuff, people falling down or getting hurt (but not seriously injured)
029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have?
it’s quite a sarcastic humour, she’ll make lots of sarcastic or sassy comments.
030. Do they believe in the afterlife?
it’s hard not to believe in the afterlife when your great-uncle is literally the lord of the dead. she knows about the underworld and the afterlife and she knows it’s a very real, very literal thing.
031. Are they superstitious about anything?
don’t kill albatrosses. don’t do it. but otherwise, no, not hugely superstitious.
032. Does your character believe in ghosts?
yes.
033. Do they keep their promises?
as a sea witch, she has to keep her promises. a promise is a soul debt. uma takes promises very seriously.
034. What’s their view of lying?
she hates lying. she hates being lied to. she would always prefer the honest truth, even if it hurts. she does, occasionally tell white lies like “i’m fine”, but about anything more important than that, it’s a no-no.
035. What is the most important rule your character lives by?
if you want something, you have to work for it. no-one gets anything for free.
036. How honorable is your character?
fairly honourable. but she isn’t above trying underhanded tricks to get what she wants.
037. If your character saw someone drop a large sum of money and knew that they could probably take it without anyone noticing, what would they do?
probably take it. depending on who’d dropped it. if it was someone she knew, she’d probably return it. but finder’s keepers is the isle way of life.
038. What bad habits do they have?
not sleeping. swearing. speaking with her mouth full. skipping meals accidentally.
039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?
damnatio memoriae. completely erasing someone’s existence from the world.
040. What is their obsession?
the isle of the lost and turning it into a liveable place. she is a workaholic.
041. Are they comfortable with technology?
pretty comfortable, but she prefers the old fashioned methods like letter writing and taking notes by hand than using a tablet or laptop.
042. What is their greatest achievement?
the barrier being brought down. while she’s not technically responsible, it was her plan and her actions that helped to change mal’s mind, so she’s taking credit.
043. What will they stand up for?
the little guy. the underdog. she’s a huge proponent for those in need, those less fortunate. she’ll stand up for freedom and fair treatment.
044. What disgusts them?
people in positions of power that use them to improve their own lives instead of helping other people. sexism. racism. classism. homophobia. etc.
045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions?
mild depression.
046. How do they handle getting sick?
she powers through it, pretending like she isn’t sick at all.
047. What was the last medical problem your character had?
malnutrition as a result of living on a garbage island for years.
048. Do they have any allergies?
not that she knows of
049. How does your character feel about growing old?
the length of her lifespan makes growing old seem like something of a non-issue for her. she’s more concerned about other people growing old around her while she remains relatively unchanged.
050. How does your character feel about their own mortality?
given that she’s almost immortal, it’s not something she has to consider now that she’s free from the influence of the barrier. but she hopes that by the time it comes around, she’s done something worthy of getting into elysium.
051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today?
make a list of all the jobs that still need doing and give it to someone she trusts to carry on her work.  
052. What is your character’s worst flaw?
her pride and inability to compromise. she’s incredibly stubborn about her plans, possibly to her own detriment. her need to always be in control.
053. What is your character’s greatest strength?
her compassion and her ability to see the world for what it could be instead of what it is.
054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind?
yes. it’s important to her to have power and authority always. it’s why she’s self-titled queen of the isle, it’s why she’s the captain. she struggles with relinquishing control and with trusting other people.
055. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert?
an extrovert.
056. Has your character ever struck someone in anger?
yes. though with time she comes to regret the action, she has definitely lashed out at both friends and enemies in blind anger.
057. Has your character ever killed anyone?
yes.
058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day?
uma’s idea of a perfect day is a day out at sea with her crew, sailing the world and singing sea shanties and having a good time together away from other authority or people who hate them. just them, free and happy.
059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up?
what’s my name? is her favourite phrase, use to keep her crew in line, to boost herself up, and to make sure everyone knows who she is and that she’s in charge.   ( descriptor ) party, table for one (pity, loser, etc). picked up from her time in the shop. we ride with the tide! her crew’s mantra. a reminder that they will always be moving forwards.
060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?
she enjoys learning, but she finds most educators boring or pointless. she’s much rather teach herself stuff. but she also wants everyone to receive a good education.
061. Does your character prefer adventure or safety and security?
adventure! she wants to see everything and travel the world and go on wild adventures.
062. What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?
a good one. a big one. she wants to be remembered, but she wants to be remembered for helping people, for doing something good for the world and her people.
063. How well does your character handle difficult people?
it depends on the kind of difficult, but pretty well, usually. she will always assess a situation first, but she’s very good at adapting to whatever is needed from her in the moment.
064. In what ways does your character annoy others?
she’s demanding and controlling. so she annoys people by constantly needs to reassert the fact that she’s in charge, and she’s the most important person in the room.
065. Is your character better at leading or following? Which do they prefer?
leading, always. uma hates following, she can’t stand it.
066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?
being out in nature, specifically, the ocean.
067. Does your character believe in fate or destiny?
she knows that the fates exist, that some parts of your story are prewritten, but she’d like to think she could change it on a whim, that she isn’t tied to anything specific.
068. How strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? What kinds of things trigger it?
very. she feels responsible for a lot. seeing people in need triggers it more than anything, seeing someone hurt or hungry is something she can’t stand.
069. What about your character is heroic?
a lot. she fights for what she wants, she fights for other people, especially those who maybe can’t fight for themselves.
070. What about your character is cowardly?
she doesn’t like getting too involved in her own emotions. especially the good ones and she doesn’t want to lose people, so she distances herself from them to avoid getting hurt.
071. How kind is your character?
fairly kind. she struggles with it sometimes because she’s never been taught kindness, but she’s trying.
072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)
a druid, but a water druid specifically.
073. In a novel, what plot role would your character fill? (hero, anti-hero, sidekick, villain, etc.)
anti-hero. she’s a hero, but her methods aren’t heroic.
074. What is your character’s favorite game?
she doesn’t really play games. also she’d be a pretty bad sport at any game she didn’t win, so maybe uma is banned from game nights and doesn’t have a favourite.
075. Is your character ticklish?
not really, thanks to shape-shifting any part of her that was ticklish now isn’t.
076. How do they express anger?
loudly. it takes over her whole body, she goes tense and snappy, she gets loud and shouty, and even though she doesn’t like it and would like to change, she can get physically violent.
077. How often do they cry? Over what?
pretty much never. she tries her hardest not to cry. but she’s more likely to cry over very emotional things rather than pain. so she’s more likely to cry because a loved one got hurt, or because of her own feelings than anything else.
078. How emotionally stable is your character?
she’d like to think that she’s emotionally stable, but she can actually be quite volatile, she’s just very good at hiding her mood swings.
079. How easy is it for them to read the emotions of others?
very, ursula spent uma’s entire childhood teaching her about how people convey emotion through their bodies as well as their words and voices. she’s very good at discerning emotions.
080. How easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions?
she’d hope pretty difficult. she does her best not to fall into any of the usual traps, but she still has certain tells, so for someone who knows her, it becomes pretty easy.
081. Is your character religious?
a complex question, because she knows that gods exist as she herself is related to them, so she has to believe in gods, she can’t deny their existence, but she also knows that they’re not the omnipotent, omniscient beings they’re made out to be, they’re flawed and selfish and she gave up on asking for their help.
082. What are your character’s sleeping preferences?
sleep. any sleep. she actually doesn’t sleep very much, she can stay awake for days at a time and when she does sleep it’s only really in short bursts.
083. What is the first thing they say and/or do when they wake up?
check how long she’s been asleep for and what time of day it is, to calculate how long she has before other people are awake, or to see how much time she’s lost.
084. Describe your character in one word.
Hero.
085. Describe your character in three words.
Revolutionary. Stubborn. Ambitious.
086. How would your character describe themself in one word?
Queen.
087. How would your character describe themself in three words?
Queen. Captain. Witch.
088. Is your character quiet or loud?
Loud. So very loud.
089. How vocally expressive is your character?
very. she’s always ready to talk or argue her point. and she’ll always tell you exactly what she thinks.
090. How bodily expressive is your character?
in the middle. most of the time her body language is closed off, but she does like to show off.
091. What type of music does your character like?
she’s not really had much chance to listen to music yet, but female singers are her clear favourite.
092. What emotion does your character evoke in others?
loyalty, for the people who are with her. anger, in those that aren’t. fear.
093. What is your character’s goal in life?
to free her people and to make their lives better, to make their homes liveable and their land usable.
094. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know.
economics. the law. how to be good.
095. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to do.
dance. hold her temper. bench press a car.
096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project?
uma is very confident in her movement. she walks with her head up and as if she expects everyone else to move out of her way (she does). she doesn’t make herself smaller or back down. she’s always an intimidating presence.
097. How well do they adapt to change?
uma is very adaptable. she’s very good at adapting, but that doesn’t mean she always likes it. if it’s a change she’s campaigned for, she’s all for it, but otherwise? she’s going to need serious convincing.
098. Does your character like animals?
yes. especially sea animals.
099. Do they talk to inanimate objects?
other than maybe swearing if she’s bumped into something? probably not.
100. Does your character dream? If so, what do they dream about?
she does dream, she often dreams about her crew, or her ship, or the depths of the ocean.
1 note · View note
janiedean · 4 years
Text
Because you might need something to take your mind off all the stupid...
… and this isn’t particularly good or funny, and it probably requires a lot of editing and some semblance of coherent word choices, but maybe it’ll make you smile a little, if only for the knowledge that one of your works inspired it. I wrote this little scene a while ago after reading “as beautiful as you”, having my soul just a little bit irreparably wrecked by the part where Jaime wakes Brienne by giving her a sword rather than kissing her or taking a sword from her, and having my brain immediately jump to, “Yes, but do you know why you love this so much?”
It feels like it should be part of a bigger story, but knowing me, it’s probably not getting anywhere anytime soon. All I’ve got right now is that the sparrow is actually a human (or humanoid?) who got cursed into a bird for whatever reason and must mentor a true hero to break the spell. He’s also kind of dick, which probably makes things more difficult than they should really be.
So, well, here it goes:
“«So,» said Jack. «Here she is. But how should I wake her?»
The sparrow fluttered his wings as if to shrug, then flew from his shoulder and went to hover over the princess’ still body. He considered it for a moment, then said: «Usually, a kiss is enough.»
Jack startled. «A kiss?»
His companion landed beside the princess’ head and fixed him with one of those stares of his that always managed to look much more annoyed than his features should have allowed. «A kiss,» he repeated. «You know, when you press your mouth to another’s? I know for a fact that even peasants know how to kiss.»
Jack chose to ignore that last sentence. He came closer and looked down on the princess where she laid, rather comfortably or so it seemed, on a pile of embroidered blankets and pillows. Her loose, flame-red curls spilled out from under her gleaming helmet and onto the costly fabrics of deepest blue and brightest green, and she was tall and broad-shouldered under her chainmail, which looked as if it was made of rings of silver, the way it shined in the golden mid-morning sun. She had a tiny smile on her full, pink lips, and the fingers of her right hand were wrapped around the bejeweled hilt of a sword, not gripping it forcefully yet not holding it loosely, either. There was no stiffness to her features or her limbs; she looked peaceful, and in a way, almost confident. «I can’t kiss her,» Jack said.
«What? But we’ve come all the way up here! And it’s your quest! You’ll be a hero!»
Jack looked to where the sparrow was hopping frantically on the ground. «I don’t really think heroes run around kissing sleeping strangers. Not until they’ve woken them up and asked them whether they wish to be kissed, at least.» He didn’t answer the bird’s muttered, oh, you’d be surprised. Instead, he asked him: «Is there no other way?»
The sparrow stopped and sighed. He managed to look pensive. «Well, you could take off her armor and helmet, I guess. Get rid of the sword, too. This kind of thing sometimes happens as punishment to wayward daughters who won’t get out of their hauberks and into a nice dress to go find themselves a husband, and who’d rather play with steel swords than… oh, what is it, now?»
«If that’s the case, it seems to me that she was punished for a very wrong reason, and that it would also be wrong to help in her punishment by stealing her armor and weapon. And look how brightly they shine! She must care for them a great deal.»
«Who even talked about stealing? Just take them off of her, put them aside, and give them back when she wakes!»
Jack pondered over this option. «But it still sounds wrong, and quite a bit rude. I wouldn’t blame the princess, if she woke up and got mad at me for manhandling her and undressing her as she slept, and on top of it all, taking the things she loves away from her as if I was trying to punish her, too. I could try to calm her down and explain the situation, sure…» A thought came upon him. «But is she even being punished? She looks happy and comfortable enough. Are you sure she’s really being kept on the mountain by someone else, and that she’s not here by her own will?»
The sparrow gave a brief, high shriek. Then, he quieted down and said quietly and slowly, sweet as overripe fruit: «Do you think young royal ladies just climb on the highest, steepest mountain available in the middle of nowhere to sleep for a thousand years? Now, that seems a bit much for a beauty sleep, doesn’t it? And what about all the brave knights who came to rescue her through the centuries, and even battled with the damned dragon?»
«The dragon wasn’t even really there to guard her. She just needed a quiet place to stay as she waited to heal from her illness, but every few decades, someone came to attack her, and all that ruckus kept slowing down her recovery. None of those knights even bothered to take a good look at her and find out that belching out flames at random intervals is the draconic equivalent to hiccups.»
«Well, they were a little too caught up in acting like real heroes to play nurse to a gigantic monster with very sharp claws and teeth that can also spit fire, I assume.»
«But their heroic methods didn’t work, did they?»
The sparrow averted his gaze and was silent for a moment. «Well, no. Not really. Still…»
Jack crouched next to the princess, stared at her fair face, and patted her hand gently. «Your Highness, won’t you please wake up?» he asked her. «I don’t mean to disturb you, but it is very late.»
«Oh, alright! Just keep doing whatever you,» started the sparrow in a bitter voice, but he was soon cut off by the princess herself mumbling something unintelligible. She did it again as she slowly moved this way and that, and then she let go of the sword, stretched out her strong arms and legs and let out a big yawn. When she finally opened her eyes, they were a clear blue, if somewhat unfocused. But after she rubbed at them with her hand, they seemed much more alert.
«Yes,» she said a bit groggily, pushing herself in a sitting position and turning to look at Jack. She took off her helmet and laid it down next to the sword. «I know it must be late. How long did it take you to understand? Or did my father figure it out all on his own before he sent for you?»
Jack and the sparrow exchanged a glance. «Um. It took one thousand years. And six months. Um,» said the sparrow. Jack wanted to reach out a hand and pat his little head, but he thought better of it. The sparrow wasn’t usually one for that kind of thing.
The princess let out an incredulous laugh. «That long? Truly?» She shook her head, her wild curls flying around her face. «I had thought the stubborn old goat would just keep looking for the eager grooms most like himself at first, but I had also hoped he’d swap them for more fitting choices sooner than this. Are the words, I don’t want a husband who only knows how to demand and order and act against my will and who wouldn’t know a polite question if it hit him right in his stupid, ugly mug, so very difficult to make sense of?»
«They aren’t,» Jack agreed.
«You’d think so, now, wouldn’t you. But then again, if they weren’t, I wouldn’t have had to set up my little trial in the first place. Ah, well, but at least I have enjoyed a very nice nap and I feel quite well-rested. It would have been better, if not for all those cretins and cowards trying to kiss me or do even worse… I did think to wake up for a little while to teach them a lesson, but there was some creature that took care of them before I ever could. As the enchantments I put on my belongings took care of the thieves and their grasping hands, of course.»
«Does that mean you’re a witch, Your Highness?» asked the sparrow, a little too hastily.
The princess turned to look at him and sat herself more comfortably. Her face softened and when she answered, her amusement seemed more sincere, laced as it was with kindness rather than exasperation. «Well, how do you think I’ve managed to sleep for a thousand years and then another six months still, little bird? And how could my father still be alive, if magic did not run though our line?»
«We don’t know whether your father still lives, because we’ve never met him,» clarified Jack, and felt bad for not telling her sooner. «We didn’t even come here as grooms. We were just looking for a heroic quest to fulfill.»
The princess turned towards him once more and scrunched up her brows, as if trying to decide if she should believe him. She must have realized he was speaking honestly, because eventually she patted his hand as he had done with hers. «Oh, no need for that sour face. I mean no offense, but I am glad this tiny sparrow here isn’t vying with you for my hand… and even you would have had to spend at least a few months courting me. The trial was only ever meant to find me a man I could accept as a possible groom.» She rose to her feet. «As for my father, I doubt he’d let himself die before seeing me up and about once more. I told you, he’s stubborn. And in truth we do care for each other, though it might not always seem so. Now, I remember there was a stream down there, and I need to make myself a little more presentable. When I’m done, if you’ll help me back to my father’s keep, I’ll have him feed you and give you fresh clothes and a place to rest before you go back to your quests, and whatever else you might need.»
With that, she rolled her shoulder, stretched out her arms again, and went her own way.
«Are we going with her?» Jack asked the sparrow.
The sparrow answered him: «Well, yes. You’re a hero, now, I guess. Technically, at least. And heroes do get their rewards from their princesses and their princesses’ fathers… even if it usually doesn’t go quite like this.»
Jack nodded. Food and rest and fresh clothes seemed nice, anyway.”
----
OMG THIS IS ADORABLE AND PLEASE IF YOU EVER FEEL LIKE WRITING THE FULL THING I’M 100% DOWN TO READ IT also I ship these two already like fed-ex, the crack is delightful because hONESTLY IT JUST TOOK ASKING HER XKLGKJSDGJLJDKLG I LOVE MY TROPES DECONSTRUCTION, the princess is honestly to die for, HE’S ADORABLE tho admittedly ofc the sparrow is the best lmao oh god now I want him and pigeon ned to meet or smth xDDDDD ALSO THE DRAGON BEING SICK KILLED ME SDKLGDSLJJKG THIS WHOLE THING WAS JUST SO PRECIOUS THANKS I 100% COULD HAVE USED READING IT ;___;
5 notes · View notes