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syndianites · 4 years

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The After; The Athar: Chapter Three

Chapter 3/?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 [Here] - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. Wag escorts Martha to Jordan’s house and decides to have a day out with Sonja.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: A good handful of these first chapters are going to be set up and exposition for later. I wanted to put some worldbuilding and character buildup with more than just Wag and Jordan because it’s nice and feels more fleshed out that way. This is more or less my version of a post-S2, maybe S3 fic, so I wanted to go ham on it.

——————————————————————————————

The trek home was much more light hearted. More dramatacisms about the flower, a joke about Wag’s weed quest here, and easy banter shared back and forth. Wag would like to think that Sonja looked more relaxed on the way back, like a weight fell off her shoulders.

But that was an ongoing battle. It would be some time before it really fell away.

Of course, halfway home Sonja dropped another bombshell.

“I think I’m going to break up with Tucker.” Sonja spoke up.

Wag tried not to visibly startle. No, he didn’t see this coming. Should he have? Maybe. Actually, he expected Tucker to be the one to end it, after the whole Shadow’s business.

And here Wag was, staring at her like a fish struggling to breathe.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s going to happen whether I bring it up or not.”

“Are you breaking up with him because you’re afraid he’s going to break up with you?” He was still trying to pick his jaw off the floor.

“Hmm.” Sonja considered this for a moment. “Yes, but also no. I’m not afraid he’s going to, I just have a strong feeling he will. At the very least, we’d need to take a break since all of-,” she gestures to herself vaguely, “-this happened. And, honestly?” Her head tilted to the side. “It’s probably for the best. I do love Tucker, and it will take some time to let those feelings simmer and fade if we do break up, but I think we’ve been… drifting from each other for a while.”

“What?” His eyes snapped back to hers. “Really?”

Sonja nodded. “This wasn’t our first fight. Or, well, falling out. Things were fine before we jumped into the void, but we didn’t agree with how to handle the new world. How to handle Ruxomar’s Mianite.”

Wag nodded slowly. He wouldn’t know the difference. If he was being honest, he didn’t really know the other heroes that well before Ruxomar happened. He was a wizard, tasked with building, magical in every sense, and he had his own squad. The most he had thought of Tucker and Sonja’s relationship was when he helped build their home.

She sighed. “Tucker was very intent on following that Mianite. Ever the devotee. Granted, Tom and Jordan were the same with their gods but theirs were… different? I guess? Ianite wasn’t around, to start, and Dianite was dead. But we always had an idea on Mianite.”

Her tail swished behind her and she grabbed it for a moment, running her hand down its length before letting go. “He was who all of Dagrun worshipped.” Her voice took on a darker tone. “Or were supposed to worship. Tucker only wanted to believe the best of Mianite. I wasn’t quite with it. We would fight, sometimes, about Mianite, or something he did, or what his effect on the town was. Then there was the Ianitas, there was Inertia, there was-” She took a breath. “There was a lot.”

Turning to look at Wag, she gave him a smile and a shrug. “It got a bit tense between us, for a while. Well, it has been tense. Things didn’t really cool off until we were floating aimlessly in the void, again, and we had time to think and talk it out.”

“So you think that with your whole Shadows business coming out you guys need some time apart? To let the tension simmer down?” It was starting to make some sense. Let time and distance see if the heart will grow fonder or if the mind will let go.

Or something like that.

“Kind of.” Sonja turned back towards their destination. “I just. I don’t know if after this we’ll be able to make it work anymore. And if we can’t I’d rather end it on good terms than, I don’t know, explosive, world shattering, terrible terms?”

“Basically, you still want to be friends if things don’t work out.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

They walked in silence after that. A comfortable one, but heavy nonetheless. Wag had a lot to think about. He was about to go through a break-up too. Should he say something? Ask her about it? Martha and him didn’t really have any rough, tense things that were breaking them apart. They hadn’t fought, or brought up dark, hard secrets. It was just a falling apart. They still loved each other.

There was just someone missing.

And there was nothing Wag could do to make up for that hole Steve had left.

He looked back at Sonja, who was casually thumbing one of the petals of the cornflower they’d picked out for Mianite. She was lost in thought, but there was a determined look in her eyes. She was moving in the right direction. Growing, letting change come through.

Wag wanted nothing more than to plant his feet in the ground and stay where everything was easy. Easier. But the world had other plans.

In the end, when they made it back home, Wag hadn’t said anything. There was a place inside him that was afraid of speaking his decision into words. Afraid that if he said he was going to break up with Martha that things would start to fall apart.

He sure hoped not.

---

Wag spent the rest of the day sorting out the flowers they’d found and parsing through potion orders. Most of what they’d picked were more natural- flowers, some vines, and a butt load of four leaf clovers. Which so happened to grow more frequently in the area they’d gone to.

He knew from experience.

The potion orders were easy enough to set up. He’d finished boxing and tagging all the luck potions- there were only three left to do- and scheduled a shipment time, which meant going to his mail cart and placing in a whole crate of them for the post office to deliver for them.

This area had a post office now, freshly installed around the time the town popped up. Convenient for wizards who didn’t get out much.

Then he organized the rest of his current potions in terms of difficulty- easy ones go first- and picked up any new orders from the mail.

Boring, boring, boring.

Once he’d set all of that up he took to his greenhouse. Tended to his plants. Checked on his latest crossbreeding project. It was still developing, but he checked each stage for weed-adjacent properties. None yet.

And then, silence. Nothing to do. He could eat, he could sleep, he could read until his eyes bled. Oh, wait. Scratch that. He could read until his eyes dried out.

He rolled said eyes at that train of thought. In reality, he was just going to go to sleep. The sun had just set, which was excuse enough for him. Sure, he could research his magic related issues, or his weed related quest, or something, but he’d done enough thinking today. Had enough problem sorting.

But as he laid down to sleep, clad in sweatpants and a simple gray shirt this time, he was wide awake.

There was an unsettled buzz humming beneath his skin. Something restless and worried. Things were changing faster than he wanted them to.

Sure, he could take a town forming, he could take new people showing up, he could take the Ruxomar people living here, all of that was fine. New things weren’t as hard to keep up with.

But the old things changing?

Seeing Sonja’s and Tucker’s relationship crumble, seeing Jerry’s Tree change, Mianite’s Temple change, being left behind by his fellow wizards. Everything to do with Martha. It was like life was starting to move on without him, and Wag was still left knee deep in everything that had happened. The past was clinging to him, dragging him down, stopping him from reaching into the future, practically tearing him from the present.

How long until he didn’t recognize the people around him? How long until they grew so far from him that he really became just some random guy making potions in a tower? Would people care? Would they think back and wonder what happened to him?

It hurt to think about. If Wag had his way, he’d banish the thoughts from his head forever, but things have a strange way of crawling back when you don’t want to think about them. Still, it was a struggle. Everything felt like it was moving too fast, like Wag was too far behind to catch up.

He really should try to get out more.

But why? So he can watch things change? So he can look on helplessly as the world around him becomes something new? What’s worse, seeing change happen and being unable to keep up, or stepping out of your house one day to see that nothing was the same?

Wag rolled over.

Dear Athar this is not what I want to be thinking about.

He’d just have to do his best to keep up. To claw his way back to the present when the past tries to drag him down. If he can at least stay with it, change won’t feel so bad. If he’s in the thick of it, surely he, too, will feel it? Will change for the better.

Wag sure hoped so.

The distant sound of bells broke his thoughts. His doorbell, to be exact.

By now it was the dead of night and any right-minded person was sleeping right now. Or trying to. Wag considered whether it would be better to stay in bed, wallowing, or get up and see what’s what.

Another ring urged him to rise.

He spiralled down, and down, and down his stairs, his room being at the top of the tower. Wag missed elevators so much. Maybe he could be the man to pioneer the elevator. Start with a simple pulley system, like they use in mines, and work up from there.

Letting go of that train of thought, he finally reached the bottom floor and strode over to yank the front door open.

It was Tom.

“Bought time you showed up mate, I thought I was gonna hafta walk up there to get you myself,” Tom chirped. “Oh!” He leaned in. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Wag gave him a deadpan look. “Didn’t you just say you would have gotten me up if I hadn’t answered?” Tom grinned at him cheekily. “Thought so. And, for the record, no. I was pondering life’s mysteries like one normally does at,” He squinted into the outdoors. “Whatever fucking time it is.”

“Wonderful! May I come in?” Tom asked, already walking in.

“Be my guest.” Wag made an aborted movement to complain about the fact he walked in anyway, but thought better of it.

Tom wandered the foyer for a moment, trying to get out extra energy, before he flopped onto Wag’s mediocre couch. Wag knew he ought to offer food and drink, but it was too late at night for him to care. Instead, he took a seat beside Tom, whose head was leaning over the back of the couch.

“It’s been a while, huh?” Tom’s face was lacking his normal energy. Like the act of sitting let it all out. His hands, however, fluttered nervously, fingers drumming, palms smoothing down his pants.

“We saw each other yesterday.” Wag regretted not getting a drink. He was feeling Tom’s restlessness. It would be nice to have something to do with his hands. “Not that long ago.”

Drawing his shoulders up, Tom released a sigh. “Long enough.”

Silence again.

“Have.” Tom stopped. He was mulling over his words, a rare occasion for someone who prefered to think on the fly. “Have you been doing alright recently?”

A strange question.

“Define recently.” Wag wasn’t about to open up another heart to heart discussion. One per day was enough.

“Y’know. Recently! Like, the past few days.”

Try since we fell back into the world.

“I guess? I haven’t felt any different than before.”

This is where Tom’s eyes sharpened. He appraised Wag, took him in. Surely, what Tom saw was a tired, weary man. A Waglington far from his best. Hair messy, eyes dark, the strain of life held deep in his shoulders.

Except, none of his keener friends had noticed. Why would Tom?

“You haven’t been doing well for a while, huh?”

Or, rather, why wouldn’t Tom?

Still, Tom being the one to notice was a shock.

Wag looked him in the eyes, held them for a moment, then looked away. That was answer enough, in his opinion.

“Shit,” Tom softened up, curling forward to rest his elbows on his knees, face pillowed in his fists. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Why? Well, there were a number of reasons. They bounced in his mind every time he thought to himself, ‘Would anyone care?’

Feeling insignificant, feeling useless, hopeless, like after everything he’d done it didn’t mean anything.

Maybe he was depressed.

“I couldn’t. I didn’t know how- I,” Wag couldn’t find the words. “I didn’t want to bring everyone else down with my problems when they all have their own.”

Tom straightened up and turned towards him. Leaned in. Got close to his ear. “Wag.” His voice was breathy, light.

“That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

And loud. Fuck, did he have to get that close.

“It’s not dumb! It’s just how I felt. Feel.” Tom didn’t have to be a dick about it. “You guys do have shit going on, though! Everyone is trying to deal with their own crap, why would I add mine like a sour little cherry on top?”

Said asshole flopped on top of him, forcing Wag to lean back to accommodate Tom on his lap. “That’s not what I meant. How you feel is how you feel. What I meant is that we don’t give a shit about what all we have on our plates, we care about you.”

Wag moved to hold his head in his hands, making sure to dig his elbows into Tom’s back. “And I care about you enough to not want to worry you.”

“Wag.”

“Yes.”

“That’s-”

“Bullshit?”

“Bullshit.”

Tom wrapped his arms around Wag’s waist and snuggled in. Wag fell back into the couch. “Still. I don’t want to drag you down.”

“If we can’t deal with your problems, we’d let you know.”

“I’m sure.”

“I would, at least.”

Wag huffed. “I know you would. You like to let everyone know what’s on your mind.”

“Sometimes.” Tom’s voice was flat. It was unsettling.

“Do,” Wag rubbed soft circles into Tom’s back. “Do you have a problem you want to talk about.”

Tom buried his face into Wag’s stomach. “Yes,” his voice was muffled, but audible. “But not now. I’m here because I felt like you were thinking too hard and needed someone to talk to.”

That was interesting. He ‘felt’ like it?

“I appreciate it. But how-?” Tom squeezed his waist. It was a clear not now.

“Did you want to talk about what’s up with you?”

Wag shook his head, then realized Tom couldn’t see him. “No. I’ve had enough heart dumping today.”

They sat in silence again.

“Are we gonna just lay here?” Tom said nothing. “Did you just wanna snuggle on the couch until one of us decides to get up?”

Wag received a non-committal hum.

“Alright then, but if someone walks in on us here I’m going to have to tell them they we’re involved in a long standing affair.” Wag moved to lay alongside Tom on the couch, comfortably curling an arm around him. Tom responded with a quiet chuckle.

An easy silence washed back over them. Having Tom as a warm weight next to him was helping, surprisingly. Or maybe not surprisingly. It was harder to think about all the things that made you feel like shit when you had someone else holding your waist in a death grip. Was it a little painful? Yes. Did it help nonetheless? Also yes.

In the end, he was grateful Tom showed up.

---

Wag woke up with a pain in his back and a groan. Which wasn’t terribly unusual, except he couldn’t remember what he did to get his back right to the point of aching without being downright horrible. Or why his neck would feel stiff.

Then, of course, there was the weight settled on his chest. Tom. Tom drooling on his chest.

Ever the good friend, Wag decided to help him wake up. By lovingly pushing Tom off him. Only to go crashing down to the floor as well when Tom, sensing movement, latched on tight.

“Aw, fuck,” were Tom’s first words of the morning, followed by a, “What the fuck.”

Wag shoved at Tom. “Let go. I love you too, but I would rather not sit on my couch all day.”

“Well, why not? That’s as good a way to spend a day as any.” Tom held on with an impish grin, still groggy from his sudden awakening.

“Aw, you guys looked so cute up there.” A voice from the stairs drew their attention. Martha. “And here I thought you guys were such good friends, cozying up to each other. I’d come down to give you a blanket, but I suppose you won’t be needing it now.”

True to word, a blanket was held in her arms. Wag flopped onto Tom, squishing him into the floor. “Oh, Martha dear, you are just a little off. You see, Tom and I here are not friends, we are-”

Tom jumped in, “Lovers. Have been since we met in our early teens. Sorry to break it to you, but Wag was mine first and I want him back.”

Martha’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?” There was a teasing note in her voice. “Does that make me the rebound? Waggles, I can’t believe you would disgrace me so.”

If anyone was the rebound, Wag thought, it’s me.

“Yep!” Tom popped the ‘p’. “And now that we are well and fully together again, what shall we do with you.”

Wag rolled his eyes and sent Martha a wink. She hid a giggle behind her hand.

“Well, Tomothy, I have bad news for you.” Wag looked down into Tom’s eyes, giving his cheek a mock caress. “Martha is way cooler than you. She’s got purple hair, to start, and some spectacular magic tricks. I don’t know if you can compete with that.”

There was a flash of something in his eyes, and for a moment Wag saw Tom's mouth open only to be replaced by a dark, pained look. Then it was gone, replaced by Tom’s usual mischief.

“I can’t believe you!” Tom let go, finally, to push Wag away and roll to the side clutching his heart. “After all we’ve been through! That one time I gave you my meat! When we did drugs together! And you’re leaving me because my hair isn’t purple!”

He got up, dusting his legs off, and sashayed to the front door. “That’s fine, I’m too much of a boss ass bitch for you anyway. Ta ta, my not dearest. Until we never meet again!”

Then he was gone.

Martha piped up again, having moved to place the blanket on the couch. “As dramatic as always.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I only stopped by to pick something up for Dad. I’ll be leaving as well.”

Wag pulled himself off the floor as she passed, giving her a smile. She hesitated before returning it.

She opened the door with a look over her shoulder. “Goodbye, love.”

And, just as she started to walk out, she muttered to herself, “Did Tom already make it down the mountain? Strange.”

Then Wag was alone. Again.

---

It was midday when Wag found himself back at the bakery, quietly eating an apple tart while Gretchen eyed him from over the counter. There were a few customers here and there, though most of the village inhabitants out fishing for the day or working their craft. Wag, of course, ran on whatever schedule suited his needs per day.

Gretchen, who was preparing dough for tomorrow, was clearly waiting for him to say what was on his mind. He ducked his head farther into his hood.

He was that obvious, huh?

“So, how has your da-” Gretchen cut off his attempt at light conversation. “You asked when you came in. Try again.”

Stunned, he reconsidered his words. “What do you think of-” She cut him off with a click of her tongue.

Clearly, she was not taking any bullshit today. Which was unfortunate. Wag wanted nothing more than to fill his days with insignificant bullshit if that meant he never had to face his problems.

Fuck.

Why was asking for advice so hard?

Gretchen hummed quietly to herself. Wag finished the tart. Slowly licked his fingers clean. And came up with nothing to say.

A customer came and went. The door closed with a soft jingle of the bell at the top.

He broke.

“I need to break up with Martha and I don’t know how.”

Gretchen turned to him with a surprised and considering look. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What?” He scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She paused in her ministrations. Wiped her hands off on her apron. Turning to him, she leaned against the counter. “I didn’t think you’d consider that you weren’t happy with your relationship. It’s clear as day that you two aren’t much of a couple. Whether you were before you got here aint none of my business, but as you are now? I coulda mistaken you for friends, at best.”

Oh.

Ouch.

“Yeah,” Wag trailed off. “I don’t, uh, I’m not really sure how much of a couple we were either. Back then. Do you mind if I,” he waved his hands half-heartedly, “vent a little?”

Gretchen gave him a fond head shake. “I already put the dough down, I’m all ears.”

“So, um.” He wasn’t sure where to start. When they first met? When he started thinking that he might like her? When he realized he loved her? When they got together?

Steve?

“Martha was already in a relationship when we met.” Gretchen raised an eyebrow but said nothing else. “The guy she was with was the farmer type, rough, could fix anything with a little elbow grease and a stern look. Followed Dianite, the new one.”

Wag took a second to figure out where he was going with this. “They were engaged, actually. And then broke it off later. Martha and I grew close after that. But the thing was- is- Martha still loves Steve. Misses him. But he’s-” He broke off, lost again.

“Dead?” His head snapped to her. She held her hands up. “Hey, you were talking about him all past tense, and from what I heard about whatever happened to that other place, if someone didn’t show up here after all that calamity, they aren’t going to show up ever. They’re gone.”

Yeah, he was. Steve was six feet under. Farther than that. He was lost to the void with Ruxomar. Lost to Dianite’s soul. Claimed by the acts of the past for a better future.

And look where that got them.

“Yeah, he’s dead now. It killed her, I think. She lost her mother, had all this power, yet she could do nothing to stop Steve from dying, too.” Wag was beginning to connect some dots, the kind of dots you look at and roll your eyes and claim are just things that happen in shitty romance novels.

Gretchen had her head on her fist now, invested. “Why did they split?”

“Uh,” Wag struggled to recall the information. “Because... I think it was because Steve ‘moved around too much’.” He made air quotes. “Or went on too many missions for Dianite? I don’t know the details.”

“Oh, that’s no good.” When she saw Wag’s confused face, Gretchen continued. “If they split over something like that, there’s always a good chance they still loved each other. I’m afraid to say it, but you may have been the rebound.”

Wag hated to hear that. “Hey, she flirted with me before their relationship was over. It was a mutual flirting thing, too!”

Gretchen groaned. “You guys flirted, while she was in a relationship, that you knew about, and when it was over she came to you? That sounds suspiciously like needed comfort after leaving the love of her life and knew you could give her that.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but deflated like a two weeks old balloon.

Taking a breath, a wheeze at best, he tried again. “You don’t understand. Martha is, she’s amazing. She’s dedicated, and smart, and talented, and she’s always trying her best even under the pressure of being a demigod and having everyone look to you expecting greatness out of you.”

His heart was beating faster.

“And she’s polyamorous! She has room in her heart for more than one love, and we both knew that! Steve knew that! Martha didn’t rebound on me, exactly, but Steve and I had a mutual understanding that we both had places in Martha’s life and that was that.”

“She was kind, and caring, and only wanted the best for the people around her. There are so many amazing things about her.” His words were sweet but his voice was desperate.

“There’s no way she would be able to use someone- to use,” Wag grew quieter, “me, like that.”

Would she?

A hand on his arm startled him. Gretchen looked at him with soft eyes. “Hun, I don’t think she was truly ready for another relationship. She definitely didn’t go into it looking to use you. In fact, I’m sure she was in it because she loved you.”

She let go to move around the counter and lead him to a seat. “You can see it, sometimes, when she’s with you. The gentle fondness in her gaze, the warmth in the smiles she directs at you.”

“But you can’t build a solid relationship without hashing through the issues and problems you have.” Gretchen rubbed up and down his arm. “And Martha being caught up on this Steve, that’s something you have to address. It’s no issue to love more than one person, but to let the love you feel for another get in the way of the love you feel for another is.”

“I just feel awful letting it go like this. I should have put in more effort, tried to bridge the gap more, done something.” Wag was trying to keep his breathing steady. It was working, somewhat. “I’ve let myself get into such a fuckin’ rut that I can’t even keep track of everything.”

Gretchen pursed her lips. “If I may be so crass, you’ve let yourself get so hard focused on everything about you that you haven’t given the time to look at the people around you. Before yesterday, when was the last time you’d taken the time to catch up with your friends? How much of their lives do you know about?”

He wanted to say something, give a date, but he came up blank. “I’m trying my best.”

“You are, and I see that. But you can’t blame yourself all the way through. You’ve got to consider Martha’s view as well. Neither of you are the villain here, neither of you tried to sabotage or destroy your relationship. Both of you were just trying to feel like things were going alright while other pieces of your life fell apart.” Taking the seat next to him, she shook her head.

Again, he moved to say something, but she cut him off. “If you don’t think that those of us ‘round town don’t notice that you heroes have some shit going on, you’re wrong. We may be the more common around here, but we have eyes. Whatever happened to you, you can’t let it be the reason you get stuck in something that makes you more upset or hurt. Got it?”

Hesitant, he nodded. She didn’t know much about him, yet she could see right through him, huh? How obvious had he gotten in all his time spent away from people?

“You know, I didn’t come here to have a heart to heart about my emotional issues.” Wag tried for a teasing tone but fell a little off.

Gretchen took the bait. “No sir, you came here because you’re too much of a wuss to just go up to Martha and say ‘Love, I’m afraid this ain’t gonna to work out. Can we just be friends?”

“Ok, but she could literally electrocute me.”

“Ain’t gonna be any more painful then the dance you two are doing right now.”

He had no answer for that.

“That’s what I thought. And, if she’s as nice and amazing as you say she is, would she electrocute you?”

“No. But her uncle might.”

Gretchen laughed. “Ah yes, the new Dianite. That’d be a sight to see. ‘This man we’re all suspicious and wary of smiting a local and apparent hero! Is this man actually the second coming of an evil and villainous Dianite?’ That’d go over well.”

“Ok, so maybe I don’t need to worry about getting my ass cooked by a god. I’m still nervous.” Wag was, however, feeling a little better about the situation.

“Now, now. You shouldn’t get too comfortable.” A smile grew in her face, a devious look in her eye.

“Why?”

“Spark, you know, her father? The man who built this village, who we all respect and acknowledge as a good man? If he were to come around and to, I don’t know, teach you a lesson for hurting his daughter, none of us would bat an eye.”

“Gee, thanks. If you find me dead in a ditch you’ll know what happened.”

“Are you all ready then?” She stood, smoothing her apron. “Because I’m going to kick you out regardless if you say yes or no. If I let you stay here you might not leave.”

“I was going to say no, but I suppose I’ll wander off, then.” Wag stood as well. He shuffled in place for a moment while Gretchen returned to the other side of the counter. “Thanks. For, you know. All of that.”

She shook her head. “You better keep coming in and buying my goods. Call it an even deal.”

As he begun to walk out, he heard her call, “You’re welcome to come back if you need another talk!”

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to.

---

“Martha, I need to talk to you. About our relationship. I think it’s time to end it.”

Wag was back in his tower, pacing back and forth. No, he wasn’t running from the issue, he just had no fucking idea where Martha was. At all. He should have asked.

Oh well. Too late now.

Instead he had to make the choice of: wait for her at home or attempt to track her down. His decision was fairly obvious. The only issue with said decision was that he had was that there was no way to know when Martha would show up next.

It also occurred to him that Martha preferred not to come around. Shit.

Where would she be? She’d been talking to Jordan, at his request. Maybe they were still talking? But she’d come ho- come to the tower this morning. Why had she come over? What had she said?

Oh!

She was picking up something for Spark! That meant she was probably with him. Or, he’d know where she was.

…

He didn’t know where Spark was either.

“Damn, I wish I’d paid more attention to when Martha talked about Spark,” Wag muttered to himself, starting towards the door.

Then stopped.

First, Spark was intensely boring in his routine and life. Second, he still didn’t know where to find him.

He missed being able to teleport to people.

Alright, so maybe he should have shown interest in his potential father-in-law, but it was too late for that. He had to find Martha, and finding Spark might be easier.

Who would know where he was? The townspeople might like him, but they all had their own lives. Still, he could ask around. Who had seen him more recently, other than Martha?

A thought struck him.

He face palmed.

Jordan. Not only had Jordan and Martha been talking, which meant he might know where she went, but Jordan complained about Spark lecturing him all the time. If he didn’t know where Martha was, he’d likely know where Spark was. Even if it was to make sure he could avoid him.

Alright, easy. Jordan was probably at his house. Tree. Tree house? He had a pretty good track record of keeping close to home, at least.

So off to Jordan’s it was.

---

Today, Jerry’s Tree made him feel small. It was like it was looming over him as he ascended the hill. Grand and regal. It had seen death and destruction and met the challenge to come back better.

Wag did not feel like he was rising to a challenge so much as descending into a pit of pain. Sliding into a sweet embrace with death. Rolling into the grave.

Maybe he was being dramatic, but the thought of breaking up with Martha created more dread than he felt before in his life.

In any case, it was as he pondered the looming nature that he wondered what it would be like to live there. Then promptly remembered what he’d noticed the day before.

He looked over to the Casa de Sparklez. It looked homey and modest against the sprawl of branches and bark. Sure, it seemed insignificant at first glance, but it was simple. Nice.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

Hadn’t it also been destroyed? Now that Wag thought about it, the last he’d seen of it before Ruxomar was a pile of ash and suspended ruins. How was it in this condition? Fixed?

Was it Ianite, again?

How many of Jordan’s homes ended in ash?

This was definitely not the reason he was making his way up. He had to focus. Focus! Ask Jordan about Martha and Spark. Easy.

Instead of making his way to the Tree right away, Wag stopped to knock on the de Sparklez door. There was a beat of silence. Did he assume wrong? Was Jordan actually living in the Tree?

Then he heard footsteps. Quiet and uncertain, but there. A flash of movement through the windows. Then the lock was turned and the door swung open.

One Mr. Captain Sparklez in the flesh.

“Hey, Wag,” Jordan drew the words out. “What brings you to the good ol’ Casa de Sparklez and not-” He looked over to Jerry’s Tree. “-my house.”

Wag offered him a smile. “I had a hunch you’d be here.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow but motioned him in regardless. The interior looked the same from the few times he’d been inside. Birch and quartz, sleek and stylish.

“How have you been, Wag?” As Jordan spoke up Wag turned to look at him. He seemed like he was in good health.

“I’ve been... better. But I’m doing better than I was, I think.” Wag could be honest with Jordan. He was pretty sure. Jordan, among all the heroes, was least likely to judge him for having issues. Ianitee and preserving balance and all.

They wandered over to Jordan’s couches where Wag declined any food or drink. “That’s good. Always good to be better, y’know, since we’re all finally getting a chance to relax.”

“Now,” Wag put his arm on the back of the couch, “I wouldn’t say that. Say it too much and things will turn south again.”

“Oh, believe me, it’ll turn south again. It always does.”

“Well that’s quite the vote of confidence in us.”

Jordan snorted. “It’s not a lack of confidence in us, it's a lack of confidence in the universe! Who’s to say that we won’t have another World Historian show up? Or another Shadows?”

Wow, speaking of Shadows.

“Gee, and here I thought I was the downer.”

Jordan laughed, shaking his head. “Only a little,” He rubbed his legs. “I’ve been using our downtime to get myself resettled, re-setup. To get back to,” A wave of his hands. “Normal? How things used to be? I’m not sure, yet.”

“Is that why you’re living here?” Wag bit back the ‘because it feels more like home, here?’.

He received a shrug in response. “It’s easier to get in here than to wander through the tree.”

Either that was a flimsy excuse or Wag was reading too deep into this. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was. All he’d done recently was think and talk deep. Better catch himself now before he gets ahead of himself.

“So,” He pushed his thoughts to the side, “Ignoring the fact that there’s elevators in the tree, how’d you manage to get this place back in shape?”

Jordan looked away for a moment. “It took a lot of time and resources. Needed to get all that wood and quartz back, y'know? But it gave me a reason to avoid Spark, and it gave me time to… think.”

“About?”

He turned his gaze towards Jerry’s Tree, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “About how much things have really changed, and how much they haven’t.”

Well, Wag was no stranger to this topic. He was a little tired of it. “How haven’t they changed? Seems like more and more things are growing and becoming different. Nothing feels the same.”

Jordan was quiet for a minute. He was steadily getting out of his comfort zone here. “Well, there’s a lot of constants. We’re in the same world, with the same people, with the same ideas of who we are. I know I follow Ianite, I know I stand for balance, and no matter how much Spark tries to tell me I’m doing it wrong, I know what my role is as Ianite’s champion.”

“Sure, the,” he waves a hand towards the window, to the tree, to the countryside, “everything, has changed. The tree got bigger and better and less like I remember, and there's new people and a whole, real village here, rather than the strange village-folk from before. And, yeah, it’s weird having the people from the last world among us, but we know them. We know us. Even when things change it's still-”

Jordan locked eyes with Wag.

“Us.”

Yeah. He was right. Everything was changing, as everything would. But in the end, after everything has evolved and adapted and become something new, what’s left?

Us.

#sparklington #the after series #waglington #james hayes #captain sparklez #jordan maron #martha the mystic #martha conway #tom syndicate #tom cassell #ii_jeriicho_ii #tucker b0ner #jericho #omgitsfirefoxx #sonja reid #mianite #mianitefa

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bludhavencapital · 3 years

Text

The Story of

MERGO

There’s Something Wrong with that Guardian

Mergo

Summary

Mergo, a Brilliant Hunter, born near the end of The Golden Age, who was the first to create the Golden Gun Skill called Brightest Star Gaze, suffered with severe mental problems, and became a dangerous threat to fellow risen. Despite her suffering with schizophrenia, her skills were prodigious and unmatched to any hunter ever existed and was well respected for it.

At one point in time, before the Great Ahamkara Hunt, Mergo was abducted and raped by Volmâr’s Hive Knights on her strange departure to the Moon. Mergo traveled to Venus to bargain with the Ahamkara in helping her get rid of these hellish voices and memories of her being raped, but it only worsened her schizophrenia. Mergo murdered her own fire-team members, attempted to kill two warlocks, and Ikora Ray before her raid mission, almost killed herself in the dreadnaught, severely injured Andal Brask, and plotted to assassinate the vanguard. She believes Volmâr is working with the vanguard, and using their disciples to execute her for “illegally refusing to breed worms.”

Eris enchanted her Touch of Malice with a speciality bedded to retain her sanity, by keeping the voices contained in the weapon itself.

Mergo still remains in the tower, but locked beneath the vanguard office in a holding cell. As she’s too dangerous to be around other guardians. Even though Mergo’s lost her sanity, she still keeps her skill, nimbleness, and raw talent.

Unless her madness throws her off balance, she’s the sharpest, most precise lethal Golden Gun hunter to ever exist.

The First Curse, A

Perfect Shot

Mergo’s most finest weaponry was The First Curse, to whom the ‘Brightest Star Gaze’ title belonged to. Although many guardians disliked the gun, Mergo loved the Gun for the power it can unleash. Many Hunters preferred other weapons, for The First Curse felt underwhelming to use even with its most powerful perk. The requirements were difficult, and the Gun itself was unfathomable to understand how to use it correctly/precisely. For Mergo, a naturally gifted marksman, the quest came easy to her and managed to finish the quest the quickest. Relieved by the sight of the white&chrome lining of the palette, 6-inch barrel, and most importantly, the weight, her desperate hours of holding the Impercation felt like an accomplished chore. Despite her bare witnessing the guns beauty and majesty, she did not see this weapon as beautiful. To her, The First Curse was misunderstood, and only needed guidance in becoming a perfect form of itself. It’s shot is precise and sharp, but with every little push of the trigger requires a faultless point.

“The gun can speak endlessly, when given the moment.” — Mergo.

Mergo then chose The First Curse as her own golden gun. Within time, and intense amounts of training, Mergo showed sheer perfection with The First Curse so much, that her golden gun amplified a Blueish Sharp Flame Streak, instead of its regular orange flame streak. The flames on her Golden Gun burnt blue flames and so did her abilities. A much stronger/hotter version to original Golden Gun, it can pierce right through monumental objects and barricades, such as a Titan, Hydra or Hive Knight’s Barrier. The bullet traveling speed is that of the speed of lightning, it can even devastate enemies standing a few feet towards the bullet trail, making her skill all the more rewarding. Mergo has excelled in her mastery in precision, and became the greatest lethal golden gun hunter to ever exist

Deepest Darkest Secret

Prior to the Taken King, Mergo always showed defects in her psychology. Mergo believed her nightmares were beholding amongst reality. Moments before her departure to the Dreadnaught, her warlock acquaintance, Raelag found her in an oscillate state, mummering about “Babies…” and “Concubines”…found speechless, he went to Ikora Ray about a concern with his fireteam member, having fits and rocking beside a corner in her apartment. Ikora Ray took Mergo into her private headquarters to the retrieve information personally. Mergo wouldn’t stop calling Ikora “Volmâr”, Ikora even needed to render her unconscious Mergo in order to make matters less chaotic. Upon awaking, Ikora asked again what Mergo was talking about. Finally, Mergo spoke, but in short, she was too afraid to explain in detail of Hive kidnapping her and temporarily slaving her as a worm donor. “Worm Donor?” Ikora question with confusion. “Apart of me was taken, and kept galaxies away…my light, my innocence. And they could be using it for destruction.”

“You need to be honest with me Mergo, are guardians being used as worm donors, and were you a victim? How exactly did they, “do” this to you?”

“……I knew you were one of them Ikora,”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You look just like her, you must be a clone, I can see her! Volmâr! She’s just......fidgeting and twitching, .....GET THIS DISGUSTING CREATURE OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

Ikora can’t comprehend what’s happening, but Mergo attacks her out of blind rage. Mergo was sent into an isolation chamber in a well put straight jacket, sealed with a soros brand monument, where she will calm down before her departure. Ikora has kept the information of Gaurdians, even male guardians being used as worm donors to the Hive. She believes Hive are raping guardians into impregnation. These feats were practice for as long as guardians fought against them. Of course it’s too explicit to nationally syndicate, so it was only kept privately in the vanguard. Ikora, and the vanguard believed Oryx is the root of the problem. Stopping him could reduce trafficking amongst the guardians and hive in this solar system. She took note that hive are possibly taking our light through insemination, by birthing Light Worms, and Mergo was possibly not the first victim. A possible new darkness to awaken in the light.

“Why would she hide something like this? Has this been kept in her mind ever since she sought victory over Crota’s End?” Ikora Ray.

“That could explain why she’s so damn good with her golden gun. I mean…… It burns blue. She must’ve been using this secret to express it in her skills. She may have grown numb to it quickly, and encouraged herself to be this.. cold and calculating monster in the field. I mean her talents are insane!” Cayde-6

“....We’ll have the fireteam aboard the ship, you and Aeros can aid them during their adventure.”

“Are you sure we should let her go...? Isn’t she a little....”

“....”

“C’mon ....do I have to say it?”

*rolls eyes* “but it’s only because I believe it could help replenish her. She’s a strong asset, gifted, talented guardian..”

“...and beautiful, very gorgeous.”

Living Nightmare, The Pitfall

Midnight before the raid

There could be strange whispers coming from Mergo’s Chamber, calling out and chanting vibrantly as the lights flickered throughout the darkened corridor. Mergo is seen mummering again about worm impregnation. Her eyes looked exhausted, and darkened from sleep deprivation. She’s mentally defeated and in need of redemption.

Today is the day she prepares her departure to the dreadnaught in defeating Oryx. An hour into the dawn, Mergo finally gains composure of reality again. Impatiently, she breaks free from the jacket herself, and actually departures to the dreadnaught alone without her fireteam unplanned. Unnervingly, something is summoning Mergo to the dreadnaught subconsciously. As she flows through the Milky Way, The Hellishlike whispers begin to lurk back into her presence, and continue to haunt her as she’s headed beyond Saturns rings. In contrast to everyone else who went through the dreadnaught in the Court of Oryx, Mergo was actually brought in deserted room behind Golgoroth, with a three gorgeous looking chests coded in Hive Language. They appeared to be the same language used in Volmâr’s chamber. Hit with sudden dejavu, she desperately proceeds to place them the way she remembered how they were in order.

“Birth” “Reinvigoration” “Malice”.

Mergo only managed to open one of them ( Reinvigoration ) that actually contained a fragment of Touch of Malice. The other chest ( Malice ) begins to crack itself open, “here lies a clandestine rendezvous, an invitation to the throne room, where the daughters of Oryx reside.” Upon meeting the doors from the maze, Mergo sees a disturbing image; herself as a hive worm with hive puss fuming from its pores, squealing like a newborn creature. Mergo was frozen with shock. Without blinking, she killed it, with no hesitation. However, upon killing it, her bullet seemed to have hit a warlock, not a hybrid worm. It was Raelag, whom was required by Ikora to find her. Mergo breaks down in tears upon what she’s done, kicking her legs frantically, shooting her gun on the ground, having a full blown break down.

“I’m a monster, they’ve just been trying to tell me... I deserved to be raped, I deserved to be labeled a birthed of evil! Angel! Angel…don’t revive me... please.”

Her ghost’s name is Angel. He tries mending the situation, helping her keep her mind under control, but it only coupled to more tears. Mergo then attempts suicide with her first curse, only for the TOM Fragment to sing and churn with green energy. It was excited to hear a guardian suffer so abruptly. As Mergo looked up from the ground, she heard trembling beneath her. Raelag’s body was fidgeting on his stomach. She then flipped him over only to reveal that his helmet was gone, but his entire face was also gone. She screeched so loudly it echoed a huge shockwave in the dark chamber, then started beating Raelag frantically for him to stop seizing. As her Anxiety increased, Mergo panicked even more, then scurried quickly from the body, following a dark telepathic light that appeared before her.

Climatically, upon reaching the end of the darkness, she finally approaches the daughters floating symmetrically on both sides of the throne room, praying to their gods or god Oryx. Without the help of her fireteam, Mergo nearly died in the sequence just before the sister teleports her back into the throne room, where she almost died in the process of carrying the orb to completion. But successfully, she sufficed the battle and destroyed the last sister with her Blue Golden Gun, snuffing anything left of her.

The final battle with Oryx wasn’t like the origin raid, but Oryx actually impersonating Mergo as a doppelgänger, by using his Taken powers to forge a body of hers. Disturbingly, he manifested the Volmâr Hive Knights that raped her in the Hellmouth, and had her fight an armory of them while he regenerated his power. Mirrored by the same load out, it was unfeeling if Oryx mirrored the same skills as Mergo’s, since his was Taken Formed. Mergo fought with bloody fury, and strangled herself (Oryx) until he disintegrated.

Unfortunately, Mergo has actually won the battle, but what makes it bittersweet is, she now has to live the rest of her life with crippling mental issues. Eris is working to try and reanimate the Touch of Malice in specialty for Mergo’s on going nightmares. She will forge an artifact that glows a midnight-tinge color in the green crater surrounded by rotating rings. Eris believes this will be a specialty bedded for her Schizophrenia and PTSD, in keeping them only “alive” beyond the TOM. Oryx has received the last laugh on Mergo’s end, and Mergo is stained by the hives destructed nature alike Dredgon and Eris. Her dignity and perfection are now unbalanced, however, Ikora hopes the TOM will at least help keep her mind stable.

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny beyond light #destiny gaurdian story #horror

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years

Text

He’ll always be her baby (Legend of zelda)

It was a warm summer day when Link made his way back to the kokiri forest. Instead of returning to the past as Zelda had wanted, he stayed in the future to help her and after 2 years of hard work the kingdom was back to normal more or less and Link was actually betrothed to the princess. In a odd way that was part of why he was going to the woods today, he wanted to get the blessing of his semi mother Saria about the union. (Link of course knew that Saria wasn't his real mother, but having raised him from a baby, and changing his diapers all those years, she certainly qualified in Link's mind.) Just how long she HAD been changing his diapers was a sore point for the hero of time, as he'd been a total failure at potty training till he was 7..And even then had still been fighting bed wetting until a few weeks before he'd started his quest. (actually when Saria had run up to talk to him that morning she'd been coming over to see if he'd kept his bed dry.) Today however such thoughts were pushed out of his mind as he left Epona at the entrance of the forest and left the horse go and do whatever it did when he wasn't around, as the beast got uneasy around all the kokiri who crowed it not used to seeing horses. Saria was waiting for Link with a smile on her face even as she tried to resist the urge to introduce Mido to her fist, a familiar urge of course but one that was winning as Mido whined on and on about how he had wanted to hang out with Saria. "I'm just saying, he shows up here acting like some sorta big shot and well..I'm a big shot too!" Mido whined. "..Mido you guarded part of the path to the forest temple. Link saved the world from Gannondorf." Saria pointed out, rolling her eyes. "exactly! I was a big help!" Mido huffed and puffed out his chest. "Mido?" Saria said and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Go home before I have to give you anther black eye please." Mido huffed, but stormed off, muttering about how he was leaving because HE wanted to, as Link came into view. "There's my little guy!" Saria coo'ed and held open her arms for a hug. "Heh..not so little anymore Mom." Link said, bending a knee to get down so she could give him a big hug, both of them smiling. "Hush now, you're not too big I can't still take you over my knee." Saria scolded playfully and reached around to give link's bottom a playful swat. Link played along and winced. "oh nooo, not a spanking!" he chuckled, then got back up and as they headed for Saria's house instinctively reached out and took her hand, with her leading the way. 'amazing how after everything I've been though, and how much i tower over her she can make me feel like a Lil kid again with such ease.' Link mused to himself. 'amazing how no matter how old or big he gets, Link's still such a little guy.' Saria mused. Of course from her Point of view, while she knew that link had saved the world and was a very capable fighter.. she mostly interacted with him when he came home due to the limitations of her race. Thus she knew him best as a silly big goofball. "So, what brings you around? the carrier you sent just said you had important news for me." Saria said as the made it into her home, and Link dropped his travel bag. Now more indoors though Saria noticed that link frankly smelled, though anyone who'd ridden all day on a horse was expected to have a certain funk to them. "Well see-" "Hold that thought. somebody needs a bath." she said and held her nose, but smiled. "uh..oh yeah..ehehe..Guess I am a little ripe." Link said sweat dropping. "I'll just go hop in a river and-" "No need! I finally broke down and got a tub installed in the house." Saria said, grinning ear to ear. she had been the first to semi get indoor plumbing (well OK, it just went out a tube to a ditch behind her house) and was now the first with a indoor tub.. and looked proud as heck about it. "Oh neat! I bet Mido is turning green with envy!" Link chuckled and Followed Saria up the steps. "oh you know it. he tried to get one for his house but couldn't get the sage discount.. then he spent like a week running around in the tall grass trying to find rupees. by the time he got a tub installed it was barley big enough for him and he was too pooped to complain." Saria snorted, then added "Watch your head Linky, the second floor is more my height." Link had not forgotten that fact, as he was already hunched over but smiled at the warning. "Thanks mom. heh.. maybe I should just start crawling when on the second floor." he joked. "...don't offer something that adorable up if your not gonna do it." Saria said with a wink and a smirk, then lead link to the bathroom. Looking at the toilet and the tub in the bathroom, link tried to hid his disappointment as neither was terribly big but then again they were made for Saria's size. "You'll have to activate the fire spell runes to warm up the water, and that'll take about 10-15 minutes depending on how hot you want your bath." she said and nodded to the markings by the tub. "Uh..thats gonna be a problem.. had to use up alot of my magic getting here, ran into some left over moblins." Link groaned. having to take a bath without being able to lay down unless he wanted his legs over the side of the tub as it looked like, and now a cold one was NOT going to be fun. "well I guess I can stay inhere and warm it up for you." Saria said and smiled, then noticed the look on Link's face. "oh don't give me that! I've wiped your poopy butt, you don't got anything I haven't seen before!" she scolded, hands on her hips. "I..well..uh..Just.." Link whined and squirmed. "Pffft..Your too easy. I can just get the tub filled for you and then leave the room while you get naked and soak. just don't take so long that you need me to warm the tub up Little guy." she said laughed. "...that wasn't funny!" Link huffed and looked pouty. "Yes it was and you know it." she laughed. after scrubbing himself clean and draining the tub, Link had to admit he felt like a new man and as he dried off he went to grab his clothes.. only to notice that they were gone. 'I swear..she's like a little ninja.' he though with a sulk and wrapping the soft towel around his waist Link made his way downstairs. Saria was sitting at her table, enjoying a glass of berry juice and having a mischievous look on her face. "I don't suppose you know where my clothes are do you mom?" Link asked sarcastically. "well if i had to guess, some kind and wonderful lady who fancy's herself your mom thought what good would it do to have you go and take a bath if you were just going to put on your smelly clothes afterwards, and talked Mido into washing them in exchange for a date at some point." she said and sipped her drink. "whattt? why would you go on a date with that little twerp?" Link huffed then shook his head. "And what am i suppose to wear while i wait for doofus to finish washing and drying my clothes?" he added. "...I had assumed that you had packed a change of clothes." Saria said, then got a sheepish look on her face as Link blushed and looked at the ground. "Notttt so much huh?" "I uh.. brought extra rations of sweetmeats and those pastry's you liked.. and a few health potions.." Link said in a small voice. "Well uh..it's not like i just have clothes in your size laying around here..well, mostly." She said and rubbed the back of her head. "..Mostly?" Link asked. "Welll uhhh..know it's been awhile since you spent the night..but if you had ever decided to..I wanted to be prepared for my little bed wetter." Saria said and quickly took a drink of her juice as Link put two and two together. "Moooom! I've told you! I'm notta a bed wetter anymore!" Link huffed as his cheeks turned crimson. "well you should be thankful I thought you were, or you'd be going around naked till your clothes are cleaned." she said matter of fact. "...so my choices are..walk around in the buff, or waddle around in a diaper?" Link asked, putting a hand to his face. "Mmmmhmmm. Your choice though Lil guy. like Mommy said, you don't have anything she hasn't seen before." Saria said sweetly. "...what even is my life anymore?" Link groaned. In the end Link decided that wearing the stupid diapers couldn't be worse then going around naked, but made it clear that A) he'd be pampering himself, and B) it was JUST to cover his junk up, he wouldn't be using them. Saria had just smirked and gave a little wink, as if to say 'whatever you say' and after getting out the thick massive cloth diapers for link, and the huge diaper pins, let him head back up the stairs by himself to put himself back in diapers. she had tried to offer him the green plastic pants that she had gotten him as well, but he'd turned those down since that would of just been needed if he was gonna soak them, and she decided not to press the subject. Discarding the towel, and laying out the diapers, Link stared at them for a few seconds..then a few more till actually five minutes had passed, trying to figure out just HOW to do this. "good grief." he muttered to himself. "I can solve puzzles in dungeons while being attacked by monsters but not figure this out? how hard can it be?" Ploping his butt down on the thick cloth and tugging it up and reaching for a pin, he found out it could be very hard as he jabbed his thumb with the end of the diaper pins over and over, cursing softly at first but by the fourth time he started to let out a loud curse. "Son of a mother-" he growled onto to be cut off by Saria downstairs. "Language little man!" she called up. "..Brisket eating weevil." he huffed and took a second to suck on his poor thumb to ease the pain, before realizing just how that HAD to look. Finally getting the diaper pins in, though being careful not to stab himself yet again, Link stood up and smiled, proud of himself for having figured the stupid thing out even if the diapers were sagging on his hips. Waddling due to the thickness that kept him for getting his thighs to close together, link came down the stairs just beaming with pride. which as Saria turned and looked, made her break out into a big grin of her own, he just looked so damn proud of himself for figuring out how to get a diaper on. then she spotted his thumb, wet with drool and the red marks on it and came over. "oh link! your poor thumb! why didn't you ask for help?" she asked, and as the padded hero blushed and squirmed, she wiped his thumb off then gave it a kiss. "there, all better! she coo'ed, kissing his boo boo better just like she used to. "Uh..thanks mom.." Link said in a sheepish tone and Saria caught herself. "Oh..yeah..ehehe..Guess kissing it better isn't really a thing anymore..force of habit." She said and rubbed the back of her head, now looking sheepish herself. Link went to tell her that it was OK, when his diapers slid down from around his hips and landed on the floor around his ankles. "..Maybe mommy should help you with your diapers after all." Saria said, covering her mouth and trying hard not to laugh as Link just stood there, mortified. Saria was a little bit worried about Link as she got him to lay down on the floor. He seemed out of it and with a distracted look on his face started to suck on his thumb, just nodding and helping her however she asked as she adjusted his diapers, getting them on much tighter this time, though they still seemed to sag a little. "Link? sweetie? Mommy thinks you should wear the plastic pants to help keep your diapers from falling off again, is that ok?" she asked in a sing song voice, rubbing link's tummy and tickling it a little just like she used to do when he was 5. Link giggled and coo'ed a little and nodded his head, drool coming down his chin. getting a cloth and wiping his chin, Saria then unfolded the plastic pants which had honestly set her back a little bit and frowned. till now she hadn't actually looked at them, having just assumed they would be as she had ordered and was dismayed to see a row of white ruffles on the butt. 'oh, he's going to just LOVE this.' she thought dryly, suddenly glad he was still in baby mode. getting the plastic pants over his feet and ankles, and down his legs Saria called out to link to lift his hips, and when nothing happened she tried a different command. "Butt up." automatically Link's hips lifted and she got the plastic pants (or what that panties with the ruffles she wondered) around his hips and smiled as they were nice and tight and would clearly keep link from accidentally flashing anyone again. Helping link sit up he giggled and took his thumb out of his mouth, clapping happily..then seemed to freeze and looked around the room, then down at his crotch and then over his shoulder at his butt. "...explain. Now." he whined and squirmed, looking around for something to cover up in. "You went baby brained after flashing mommy and uh, with the plastic panties on your diapers won't fall down again!" Saria said quickly. "...and the ruffles?" Link asked, though his annoyed tone had shifted to almost a whining tone by now. "Not my chocie! Honestly i never looked the plastic pants over and just assumed they didn't have them." saria said and after a beat. "but they do make your butt look cuter." "Moooom!" Link whined and crossed his arms, his bottom lip sticking out. "Oh don't be such a grumpy Gus..unless you wanna go for a nap." Saria said as a joke but then noticed how link just huffed and looked away. "...do you wanna go for a nap Link?" "I..ngh.. I am tired.." Link said in a little voice. "of course you are. you rode a long way here, battled some mean old Moblins, and then all of this mental stress. How about I set you up for a little nap, and I'll wake you when your clothes are ready?" Saria asked, and ruffled link's hair. Link let out a cute little gurgle as his hair was ruffled and leaned into it, making Saria mentally gush. "I..that sounds good mommy." Link said, almost in a babyish tone. rolling over onto his side and then making use of a nearby couch to get out, Saria was trapped between gushing and laughing at how frigging cute he looked with his puffy ruffled diaper butt pushed out, then he was toddling unsteadily as he headed for the stairs. "Easy there link, I bunched up the diaper more then you had it so it's a bit thick-" Saria started as Link yelped and landed on his padded rear with a crinkle. "er.." Link blushed and rubbed the back of his head, then slowly made his way to his feet again and paused for a second. "er..Mommy..could you maybe.." he asked, holding out a hand for balance. Saria smiled and rushed over, helping him make his way to the stairs where he used the railing to help himself up the steps but as they got to the second floor both of them paused. "..there's no way your gonna be able to crotch down and keep your balance up here." Saria said. "...Yeah I know." Link whined then looking around, as if to make sure only mom was gonna see, he got down on all fours and started to crawl. standing behind him and watching him crawl Saria had little hearts in her eyes, this was just too friggen adorable! With his fat diapered bottom swaying back and forth Saria easily caught up to Link and getting him into her bedroom she toyed with trying to get him into his old crib. then looking at his size, then at the crib, knew while it would be cute as fuck there was just no way Link would be able to get a good sleep in the tiny thing (and there was a good chance he'd break it getting in anyways) Thankfully her bed was MUCH bigger then she really needed as she was prone to tossing and turning, and had a bad habbit of leaving things on the end of her bed rather then putting them away so Link barly was able to fit as he crawled under the blankets and rested his head. adjusting the blankets herself Saria leaned down and planted a smooch on Link's forehead and noticed that he was squirming and looking around a lot. "what's wrong Link? do you need to use the potty? want a bed time story?" she asked. "I uh..well..it's 'brassing." Link mumbled, and turned to hide his face in her pillow. "...More embarrassing then having me diaper you?" she asked with a smile. "..Do you..uh..maybe still have..one of my old soothers?" Link asked, though he kept his face in the pillow so Saria wasn't sure she heard him right at first. "..heh. well I think so.. let me go and check the box where i put your old baby stuff." she said, in a amused tone while link whined but let out a soft 'kay.' She found the pacifier, with relative ease, the large yellow nipple was dusty though as was the green lip guard so she took it to the bathroom to wash off before coming back with it for link. she also left the box of baby items out on the off chance maybe after his nap link would wanna play with his old rattle or blocks. (Sadly his old stuffed deku scrub had fallen apart with age) "open wide lil man." She said in a sing song voice holding out the pacifier for her big baby and link opened up for her like the good little boy he was. she slip the paci in and smirked as he instantly started to nurse on it, his face bright red but smiling behind it and he closed his eyes and snuggled into her pillow. within seconds the little cutie was asleep, and Saria briefly wondered if she should of asked what the big news was before putting him down for the nap, but figured that could wait for later, and just tip toed out of the room, shutting the door as quietly as she could. The end

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gfesgersgersg · 4 years

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My Thoughts About Spectrobes: Beyond the Portals

I recently revisited a game from my childhood: Spectrobes: Beyond the Portals. I never finished this game when I was younger, because I found it too scary to progress. As strange as it seems, this game’s first hour started my interest in science fiction, and I still enjoy the genre in books and games today, despite never finishing the game.

I played up to what I’d call the start of the end of the first act of the game, getting up to the Corona vortex on the planet Genshi. This is probably a super biased article, as I think about this game a lot. It reviewed poorly with critics and I think this was probably justified. It is also worth mentioning that I did not play the first Spectrobes game.

If you intend on playing this game, spoilers are ahead. The short version is that I enjoy the characters, but the last parts of the game are far weaker than the start. The gameplay is largely uninteresting, and the game isn’t really something I would recommend anyone play.

The Good

The music in this game is fantastic. The game always has some music playing, no matter what’s going on. Among my favourites are the character-specific tracks that play during dialogue, and the track that plays when you solve a puzzle. The music goes a long way toward selling the game’s environments, too. The music on the populated planets in the Nanairo system largely sounds upbeat, and reflects the planet you are on. This contrasts with the music on the planets that are “beyond the portals”, which sound quite alien. The music on Hyoga is calm and slow, fitting with a cold, lifeless planet. The music on Fons is calm but more sombre, and is very foreboding, fitting with the point in the story it is encountered. The music on Darkmos and Nox both fit with the artificial themes of these planets and are opposites somewhat to Fons and Hyoga.

Some good tracks would be: Ready For Action!, Hyoga, Darkmos and Fons.

The environments in this game are pretty impressive for the Nintendo DS. A lot of the backgrounds are 2D, which shows, especially in the city on Nessa, and on Fons. However, they look great in my opinion. Most impressive are the safe areas, such as Kollin and Colony. These environments really sell the Nanairo system as a real place.

The characters in this game are excellently written. By no means is the story a masterpiece, but the game’s characters entirely carry its story. Rallen and Jeena make a great duo, with entertaining banter. They reference each others’ quirks and joke around with each other. The supporting characters are good too. Commander Grant is very serious but clearly likes Rallen and Jeena. Cyrus and Webster are characters Rallen has history with, making for some funny moments and a nice “redemption” for Webster. Hank and Professor Kate are nice, and again, their friendship feels realistic in the sense that they act like they have known each other for a long time. While they’re not particularly deep, the High Krawl are good villains. They’re imposing throughout the story, and the mystery of their campaign against the Towers of Nanairo is intriguing. Maja is the main villain throughout, and she seems equally aloof and desperate in her attempts to get Rallen to side with her. Strictly from a characterisation perspective, she provides a good view into the internal conflicts between the High Krawl. Jado is a (probably intentionally) forgettable character in the early parts of the game.

The Bad

The excavation system is an interesting take on obtaining collectable monsters. This game’s status as a Pokemon clone is a largely inconsequential part of the experience to me. In Spectrobes, I didn’t feel any attachment to my spectrobes by the end of the game, simply using them as tools to get to the end. Partially, this could be because of Rallen not being a blank slate character. They’re more his spectrobes than mine. There is also the issue of the monsters themselves not really being unique. They’re nice designs, and unique to the game for sure, but my spectrobes ended up all looking the same. They’re not that unique from each other mechanically either, with the only differentiations being the typing and the evolution status. The child spectrobes are a good feature, however. Child spectrobes take on the role of searching for fossils, and don’t just sit in your storage waiting to be evolved.

The game’s characters are good, as discussed earlier, but its broader plot isn’t. It revolves around creatures known as Krawl, which feed by eating entire star systems. They’ve done this many times and are now focusing their efforts on the Nanairo system. This is OK, not particularly deep, but I see no issue with this. Beyond the Portals introduces new characters, High Krawl, who are capable of communicating with the humans living in Nanairo. Maja, at least, sees Rallen as an equal by the end of her involvement in the story, but continues to gloat about the inevitable complete genocide of Rallen’s home star system. The others are a bit more aloof, positioning themselves above the humans living in Nanairo. This is all a little far-fetched, but still OK. The High Krawl are seeking to destroy structures on each planet just called Towers. This allows them to open a new portal each time, into another star system. From these portals, Krawl will emerge from their current home on planets they have already consumed.

The first of the High Krawl to appear in the story is Jado, who is shown as being aloof but hapless. When defeated, he simply appears to die. This is a ruse on his part, and he is actually one of the most important characters to the story. Problem is, he barely appears. On Malik, at the very end of the game, he reveals that he has been hiding inside your patrol cruiser for the entire game. This is a bit of a head-scratcher. At this point, you fight him again and he admits defeat. Thus, he appears twice, but seems to warrant more of a presence. Next up is Gelberus, on Nessa. He is pretty inconsequential. He destroys the tower, opens the first portal, and you defeat him on Hyoga. After this is when Maja becomes the antagonist in earnest. She appears after both Jado and Gelberus’ defeats, gloating about how these events make her more powerful. She introduces the concept of Dark Spectrobes, and is first fought in an unbeatable fight on Daichi. After this, you go on a wild goose chase through Fons and Darkmos before beating her on Nox. Maja is more powerful than Rallen, but wants or needs his power for something. Beyond destroying or ruling the universe, this is not specified. Still, it is a good enough reason for her to not just kill Rallen. After Maja is defeated, Rallen and Jeena recover the Dynalium, which is a weapon that can penetrate a planetary shield of some kind. After some fetch quests to make a large Dynalium, an assault is carried out on Malik, where Krux resides. Krux reveals that he is a Spectrobe Master like Rallen, but uses the Krawl for their numbers. The implications of this aren’t discussed in-game. Rallen defeats Krux in hand-to-hand combat and the game ends. None of this plot is particularly interesting at any point. The best part is Maja’s story arc, which seems to build up to a twist that doesn’t happen. The High Krawl are treacherous toward one another in a way that isn’t really used for anything interesting. Internal conflicts within the High Krawl could be a good way to introduce some uneasy alliances between the NPP and certain High Krawl. I don’t expect the plot of this game to be filled with complex intrigue, but its perfectly good characters have wasted potential.

The game has some nasty difficulty spikes around Fons, halfway through the game. It’s mentioned that Rallen should evolve his spectrobes after Fons is cleared, but the Krawl on the planet are much higher level than yours at this point. Up to this point, the game is balanced well, providing good balance with no need to grind. The battling in general leaves a lot to be desired. The type matchups are obvious and shallow, and the systems leave little room for strategising. The real time battling system seems cool at first, but ends up being a matter of running up to an opponent and mashing the A button. The camera in this mode is awful and frequently leaves you facing nothing at all. As such, battling in this game feels like a chore needed to progress, rather than a fun challenge.

The level design isn’t fantastic either. While many environments are visually impressive, they’re often too big, with very little in them. There isn’t anything to find other than randomly dispersed fossils and minerals. Especially later in the game, the constant backtracking through these big, empty areas feels like an attempt to pad for time. This is exemplified by the final planet, Malik. You’re asked to traverse the exact same room around 10, maybe more, times by going through the portal that is spinning to the left in each. This is not fun to play. A lot of the game’s tasks feel like busy work rather than actual gameplay. This should not be an issue. The game has more than enough content to justify itself, without this bad filler. My other issue with the levels is that the Krawl respawn continuously. This creates a feeling that you’re not actually helping these planets. At least, the populated Nanairo planets should be clear of Krawl if you remove them.

Conclusion

To conclude, Spectrobes: Beyond the Portals is not a particularly good game. It is a mediocre Pokemon clone in gameplay terms, and in plot terms has wasted potential. The game has excellent characters and music and a well realised world. It falls short probably due to attempting to ride the Pokemon train, rather than trying to be more unique. The game’s plot doesn’t really fit an RPG formula at all. This game is just one of many obscure Nintendo DS games, and I don’t even really like it, but it will hold a place in my heart forever. I suppose something to draw from this could be that no matter how mediocre a piece of media, it can still have an impact on someone, somewhere.

#spectrobes #nintendo #nintendo ds #review #video game

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bard-of-worlds · 4 years

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Darkening Dawn Chapter 3

Lilith walked out of the bathroom of the room in the hotel she checked into dressed in a bathrobe, her hair flowing down her back, having finished a shower before she would order a meal. Her target was at the region’s Professors lab and after the excitement earlier she had slipped away to rest and finalizes her plans. She had released her Pokémon to feed them, taken her clothes from her one of her Item Cubes and was currently deciding on what to wear when she meets up with the prince.

“Nido nid rina.” Her Nidorina said as she bumped her legs as her other Pokémon looked up from their bowls as she sat on the rooms bed.

“Don’t worry girls I order something in a few minutes. I’m still worried about the seals on the ‘Prince’. I mean I wasn’t able to see much from so far away and I will be the first one to say I don’t know much on the subject. But if they weren’t a prototype, then who or what was the experimental subject.” Lilith wondered as her Pokémon adopted looks of concern.

“Yeah I know where would they get a test subject like the prince but that’s only if they care if he survived. These are the Crusaders we’re talking about but really, are they that dedicated to protecting humanity?” Lilith said as she and team exchanged looks of concern she sighed and she shook her head.

“Come on girls let’s stop with all the doom talk. Let’s see what’s on the local news channel, maybe they’ll have the Baccer results, and then I’ll order something.” Lilith said as she reached for the remote control. she turned the room’s tv on and changed the channel…TO HER PRINCE ON THE NEWS FOR SAVING A POKEMON BY RISKING HIS LIFE?!? Lilith just starred in shock, not moving a single inch or reacting before her Nidorina bumped the bed and she exploded.

“TWO HOURS! I LEFT HIM FOR JUST TWO HOURS! How can he get into something where he risked his life how, just how?” Lilith said as she hugged her legs to her chest as she rocked back and forth on the bed. She perked up when she felt something rub against her legs, looking up she saw her Liepard on the bed while her Nidorina looked at her from the floor with her Skorupi on her, both given her a look of worry. Reaching she scratched her Liepard under her chin and sighed.

“I’m good girls. Teacher said the boss was quite the dare devil when they were teens, so I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Once I find a way to make contact with the prince, get a feel on where he’s going and what to use as a cover for being here in the region. I’d bet you gals would like it if we hit a few of the contests around here, hu?” She smiled when she saw her Pokémon smile and start to cheer, back home their teacher had sent them into the Contests to teach her humility, she had learned that and taken to the arts of training Pokémon to use their moves differently like a bat to the night. Her Nidorina had even evolved during one contest battle, scoring them the trophy! Hearing a beep from her phone she smiled as she connected it to her laptop, she had the prince’s history of his journey now, all the competitions he had ever been in, now all she had to do was find a style to hit Kalos with and she was golden. Looking through the data she smiled, a way to have heard of him and maybe a reason to have come here, just what she needed.

“Well girls get ready to the Lovely Lilith is back on the circuit! So lets’ eat girls, tomorrow it’s time to meet and greet!” Lilith proclaimed as her Pokémon cheered around her, a smile on her face as her shadow on the wall behind her grew wings from her shoulders.

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Serena stared at the TV in shock, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Ash, that was Ash! He’s in Kalos, in Lumo City! He’s in the region, I can’t believe it he……… he almost died! How the heck did that happen, what was he doing to have fallen off the Tower like that?! Serena thought as she stared at the screen, her mind blue screening as

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A teenage girl in a black shirt with a v neck that exposed the top of her large cleavage under a black well-traveled coat and black pants leaned against the wall of the Pokémon Center. Her face was bare except for a bit of black lip gloss and a pair of glasses. She smiled as she saw Bonnie, Clemont and Ash talk with Nurse Joy. She walked toward them as Ash started to speak and reached for his backpack

“Can you register my Quest Scanner here too Nurse Joy?” Ash trailed off as Nurse Joy adopted a look of confusion which worried Ash.

“Quest Scanner?” Bonnie asked Clemont as she turned to her brother. Ash turned to them and let his thoughts fly. Come on! I know some countries don’t follow the Treaty but not to give out Quests too?! How do they expect Trainers to earn money, part time jobs that take weeks to earn anything?!

“I believe they call them Task Trackers here in Kalos. The Alola Reg call them Job Watchers.” A voice said behind them, turning Ash saw a girl his age dressed in black with black lips and sunglasses.

“Sorry to cut in but I figured I should help out before everyone spends too much time trying to figure out the terms a fellow Old Worlder used. You can call me Lilly and…say aren’t you Ash Ketchum?” The girl said as she gave a start as he turned to face her.

“I’m Ash Ketchum, do we know each other.” Ash asked as he tried to remember if he ever met the girl before him.

“No we’ve never met but a teacher I had showed me your performance at the Wallace Cup, and a friend of mine stumbled across what you did in Crown City while looking into a company the League took over.” Lilly said dryly as Ash rubbed the back of his head.

“A teacher?” Bonnie asked as she gazed at the girl.

“Ya, back home I’m a Pokémon Coordinator of some small fame and student of someone pretty famous locally and after the end of the season last year she said it might be good if I tried something differently after coming in the top 4 and then the runner-up the year after.” Lilly said as she beamed with pride.

“Wow! You’re a keeper! Please take care of my brother.” Bonnie said as she looked upon the girl.

“Bonnie, I thought we talked about this!” Clemont cried as a mechanical hand grabbed his sister and picked her up.

“Sorry little girl but I never date anyone I don’t know, so what your name blondie?” Lilly purred as she looked at Clemont who went red at Bonnie’s and her words and started to stammer.

“What did you do in Crown City Ash?” Clemont said as he turned to look at Ash, trying and succeeding to make Ash the center of attention.

“Ehhh, nothing much really. Just reunited a mother and with her child, exposed a prominent Businessman as the worst Eco-Criminal in the region with a crime 20 years old that he almost got away with and got the scum to confess on live TV. And this is Bonnie and her brother Clemont” Ash said as Bonnie and Clemont starred at him.

“Your Task…er Quest Scanner can be registered with Officer Jenny, her office handles all Tasks and handles payment after the person who issues one send a notification that it was completed. And how can I help you Ms. Lilly?” Nurse Joy interrupted.

“Since Kalos usually only does the Showcase I was wondering if I had to register as a Coordinator here or not.” Lilly said as she brought out a Pokédex.

“No but the Professor has a list of where and when the Contests will be held, you’ll have to talk to him for that information and with the damage to his lab you might have to wait a bit, and a new trainer is coming for her first Pokémon today.” Joy said as Lilly stared at Ash for a bit. She shook her head before anyone noticed her look and smiled at the three of them.

“So where are you guys going, from what Nurse Joy said I have to wait a while before I can get the info I need.” Lilly said as the four of them walked out of the Pokémon center

“Bonnie and I decided to travel with Ash for a bit; we need a change of pace for a while.” Clemont said as he rubbed the back of his head and looked toward the Prism Tower. And when I’m back, I’ll be stronger and more powerful.

“So it’s straight on to Santalune City and the Gym. Maybe we’ll run into you again.” Ash said as he gave Lilly a smile.

“Maybe, it’ll depend on where and when the contests are. So see you.” Lilly said as she walked off. Her faces showed nothing but inside her thoughts were going a mile a minute. An Aura Link! The prince already has a soul-mate?! Just what kind of life has he been living and what affect are those seals having on him! To block it an Aura spark from joining with its chosen Aura, something like this is just NOT done!!

Lilith’s glass showed a spark of a humans Aura dissipating when it met the seals. Just what hell did the seal-maker create if it could block a soul-mate bond. She went dead still when the thoughts hit her, did it happen with others, did Ash have more than one soul-mate? Gotta stop thinking about it, I need to find this girl, if I’m lucky then I’ll meet her at the Professor’s lab. I’ll make up a report on what I saw and my actions and mail it to teach, she’ll get it to the boss.

Jenny snarled to herself as she slammed the phone down into its cradle. The international police had laughed off her concerns that the Kanto criminal group was expanding into her region. Something about the Rockets she describe as being the bottom of the barrel, to call back if the Tooth Fairy joined them with the Easter Lopunny. Those criminals almost cause the death of a trainer and when she brought it up it caused the person answering to laugh even harder when she described the person in question. The bastard said something about sending her a file once he calmed down and hung up on her. A noise at the door caused her to glare at two trainers and a little girl who jumped a bit at her expression.

“Can I help you kids?” Jenny asked as she got her emotions back under control. She identified the gym leader and his sister and the black haired trainer looked somewhat familiar but she couldn’t place him, a flaw she had when her emotions were agitated.

“Nurse Joy at the Pokémon Center said I could register my Task Tracker here?” The black haired trainer said as he handed over a Task Tracker. Connecting it to her computer she loaded it with the regions security passcode and grabbed the Trackers serial number before handing it back to him. A chime from her computer pulled her back toward it, the file the international police was going to send her, maybe she would get some answers, and she absently handed the Tracker back to the boy and waved him off.

“Thank you Officer Jenny.” The boy said as he and the others left her office.

“All part of the job, have a good day.” Jenny said robotically as she opened the file. The first few pages were about the Rocket members she had described and the pages after were about when and where they had committed criminal acts. After a while next few page she noticed that the same trainer ID kept coming up as both victim and stopper. Then another chime and an email entitled ‘Protector’ appeared.

“Didn’t my cousin in Unova mention that a trainer had earned a title from the Pokémon Rangers and the International Police?” She muttered to herself as she opened the file, to no surprise it was a trainer bio, the kind of files the government kept of trainers that caught their eye. As she started to read accommodations for valor, for saving people and Pokémon, for defeating criminal gangs she recognized the ID as the same one in the previous file. The final page was the photo ID and when she saw it she shot up from her chair.

“THAT’S THE KID FROM LAST NIGHT, WAIT HE WAS JUST HERE!!” Jenny cried out as she looked into the hallway in shock.

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“Frankenmons attacked a courier in the Wind Road?” The speaker was a tall man in a purple tuxedo and a black cape with an Eevee on his shoulder who lead two pale attractive women in maid uniforms down a hallway. The woman on his right had blue hair in a pageboy style, her blue eyes had black eye shadow above and her blue lips were set in a frown, in her ears were two white gems and by her side walked a Glaceon with a collar with four white gems. The maid on his left had flowing red hair that reached her waist, the only makeup she had was red lipstick and blush with two red gems in her ears, a Flareon was by her side whose front legs had clawed boots on.

“Yes Master Alex, Lady Joy ordered all off duty morticians to assist in retrieving all parts from within the corpses post haste. She entered the castle two hours ago according to a local agent so this is likely a briefing about them to quell the rumors. Though a few days ago Lady Camilla sent her apprentice out on a mission and the same night the Elites were summoned for a meeting, so there is that which I am sure one of them will bring up. ” The blue haired woman spoke with a cold tone as she followed .

“One of Morg’a’s little temptresses is dating one of the security staff called to transport the materials harvested, the bitch probably bugged the poor sap with a seal. So she’s probably the source of most of the rummors. Hope the fool she’s using had a good time with the little tramp at least, but given what I had when one tried to use me, I really, really doubt it master. And like sister Sarah said, one of them will bring it up.” The redhead’s voice was full of passion as she strutted down the hallway.

Alex smiled as he thought of the meeting a month ahead of schedule, a summit of the Elites and now Frankenmon, the times were getting quite exciting, what next, did they find the Queen and Prince? He gave a chuckled at that thought, he had probably taunted murphy, but if that happened, those harpies would die of shock.

Turning a corner he stopped cold as he saw what was guarding the door to the meeting chamber. Two humanoids in full plate armor holding lances with two Haxorus with black body armor stood sentinel.

“Master, those are Highguard.” Sarah said as she reached Alex and stared with him at the door guards. Alex slowly gained a grin on his face that as he eyes twinkled.

“My dear cold Sarah, my passionate Ellie, this is going to be explosive.” Alex proclaimed as he walked down the hallway as his two maids looked at each other and sighed.

“Tell me again why do we love that man-child sister?” Ellie said as he followed after him.

“The sex, definitely the sex.” Sarah answered bluntly as the two of them followed their lover down the hallway while Alex only gave a small smirk at the words his followers exchanged.

Walking into the throne room he moved toward the left side and gazed around the room. A few people in clocks were debating Aura casting by the window, representatives from the School of Aura, they only came when there was an important announcement, were the Frankenmons were made by someone they expelled and escaped the law. The last Chimera breeder supposedly caused the procedures to change, but there are geniuses out there.

A few of the Families had a few more members then just their heirs with them, more girls than boys again, were they trying the catch the bosses eye with a pretty face? He nodded his head at his allies among the Lords as they passed each other as he led his party toward windows, and saw with no surprise that saw that the Lady Morg’a was dressed to the nines in the middle of a small crowd of ladies, was she trying to draw in others with her beauty. And she was striking today. Her long black hair flowed down her back to her thighs; her jade dress stopped at the middle of her breasts, with a cut show the inner sides with a green gem in the shape of the Grass-Type symbol resting between her breasts. Her dress went to the floor with a slit that revealed white stocking clad legs in green high heels. Her lips were painted a vibrant green, while eye shadow of an aqua green shade brought out her green eyes. Her Roselia was next to her with a grass symbol around its neck. He noticed her eyes never left a target across from her and saw who Morg’a was watching; the newest of the Highlords, the Lady Cleo Ro Clor of the Desert Realm was talking with a few lords who, if he remembered their homes locations right, bordered her territory. She cut a striking figure with her dark skin in a form fitting white robe dress that showed off her figure while still giving off a classy feel. All the makeup she wore was a simple black lipstick, while her black hair was in a simple pageboy style. Her Krokorok was standing next to her, a simple Ground symbol around its neck, showing that the simple things had a class all its own.

“So you made it to this thing youngster?” A gruff voice said as a heavy hand landed on his other shoulder. Turning he saw an older man with a beard in a white shirt and black pants next to an Ursaring.

“Sir Viktor, how are you old man? How was that Chimera hunt you went on a few weeks back, it was an Ice Fire mix that was the pack leader?” Alex said as he smiled at his friend and ally among the Lords.

“Me and mine handled it, but I gotta talk to you about it afterwards. You’ll never guess whose territory it they never even sent a scout towards.” Vicktor said darkly as he glared toward Morg’a group.

“I’ve dealt with such things in my own lands my friend, after the meeting let me track down the last two members of my old team to have a talk for old times, you can join us.” Alex said with a sigh as memoires of days long gone pasted behind his eyes.

A commotion near the front caused them to turn and saw three of the Elites walk into the room, each shadowed by one of their Pokemon. Lady Camilla was followed by her Zoroark, the brown haired robed form of Magnus walked next to his Golurk while Mordred was dressed in a simple smock and pants was walked next to his Chesnaught. Following after them was their lord walked with his Mightyena with Lady Joy walking after him in a black gown with a white Crobat on her shoulder. So a briefing by Joy was part of this after all, but why were both Camilla and Magnus here? Why were the Highguard outside? I think this might be bigger than I thought. Alex thought as he looked over the gathering.

Morg’a smiled and gave off an air of sophistication looking at the Elites entering the room but she let her thoughts tell her true feelings, confident that the Psi-Changer she wore around her neck kept them to herself. So that bitch Camilla is taking part in this after all. So whatever reason she pulled that brat from the party is important. Damn that idiotic little tramp for not getting closer to the slut! It probably was her little beast that was attacked after all. But she’s only been gone a few days, and in Kalos of all place!

As Dracula sat upon his thrown, all before bowed and curtsied to show respect for their liege lord. Before anyone could speak up about the nature of the gather he raised his hand for silence.

“My loyal subjects let me cut away all the rumors you’ve heard. Approximately two hours ago the Lady Joyce briefed me upon the 8 Frankenmon that tried to intercept a courier using the Wind Road. Lady Joy, if you would care to take over?” Dracula said as he gestured at Joy who curtsied as a holo projector appeared before the throne.

“Thank you my lord. As per my orders when I was informed what had entered my morgue, all personal were recalled and all machines were removed from the bodies before all but two were incinerated. This decision” Joy began before Morg’a stepped forward and interrupted her.

“Two of the bodies were kept from the final peace Lady Joy? Forgive my impudence but aren’t all Frankenmon bodies supposed to be incinerated after the foul machines which move them are taken from their corpses by rule of law?” Morg’a melodious voice interrupted, causing murmurs to spread among the crowd at this seemingly breach of law. Joy gained a small frown before she continued.

“Normally, yes that is the law. But the bodies were reanimated by an unknown process and power source. As the bodies were inspected, it became apparent that the machines were split in two different configurations. From what my limited mechanical knowledge told me, one type had a receiver of some kind while the other had a transceiver. The bodies saved were the ones most intact with detailed notes were made on where each machine was removed from the individual corpse. However both types had a few similar parts, this one we are having the most trouble identifying the components purpose.” As Joy spoke the projector glowed, showing a diagram of a machine connected to two broken crystals with the crystals each connected to one side of a hexagon stone.

“The gems aren’t like anything we’ve seen before. The hexagon seems to be artificial and seems to be the main power source, one of my people theorized that the gems act like a kind of converter. The fact that they were able to use attacks is a cause for concern, but the most distressing thing we’ve discovered is that there is no way for an external power source to connect to the stone, we have no idea how these things receive power at all.” Joy finished as murmurs started back up.

“This is troubling, tovarish.” Victor whispered to Alex as thoughts raced through his head. One of the only ways Frankenmons were found was the massive electrical power drain they used to recharge. And with the fact they were able to use Pokémon attacks…Wait, what were the attacks used elemental propertiess? Could there be a connection? Alex thought as his mind raced, signaling his group that he was doing this alone he started to walk through the crowd toward the throne. Alex exited the crowd until he was next to Morg’a and bowed to Lady Joy.

“Lady Joy, do we know what attacks were used by the subjects.” Alex said as he saw the scowl Morg’a sent him, curious. Did she want to score a point with that or keep people from asking? Just what is your end goal you Grass bitch

“As the witness was a Pokémon, a psychic copy of the incident was made. From what Lord Magnus divined, the moves used were Flash Cannon and Arial Ace.” Joy trailed off as she looked at the hologram.

“So moves of two elements and two gems. Were any gems recovered intact?” Alex continued as Joy called up data.

“All gems were found shattered. A failsafe or the result of battle…” Joy trailed off as she turned and shared a look with Magnus. Mordred stepped forward as a hologram of the Homeland appeared.

“Thank you Headmistress for your report, Lord Alex, Lady Morg’a for your points I give you my thanks. As of 1 hour ago our lord has issued orders that the patrols groups along our shore are be increased in size. The remains are to be turned over to the School of Aura as soon as the masters exit this chamber for a period of one weak for a detailed examination. All lords are to take any action they believe is necessary in their territories its security, all suspicious events are to be investigated by local authorities.” Mordred began as a map of the Homeland sprang from the holo-project identifying the various territories

“Wait one minute Commander Mordred! How was a single courier identified by those monsters and from where did the courier come from? What was its cargo? These facts would affect any plans we make to protect our citizens.” Morg’a interrupted with a smirk. Joy had a look of worry on her face while Camilla had a sever frown

“From the machine’s localization before we removed them, some of them were hooked up to the eyes of the corpse, so a possible Aura sensor is possible. The cargo….” Mordred began until the person behind him interrupted and spoke loudly.

“Was an Aura scan of my son.” Dracula declared as he stood up from his throne.

Alex blinked, their lord couldn’t have said what he thought he’d heard, did he?

“I Declare this for all within this chamber to know! After years of not knowing their fate, my Queen and my son have been Found! Even as we speak, measures are being undertaking to return them to our shores!” Dracula proclaimed as the chamber exploded in conversations.

Morg’a had a wide smile on her face while on the inside her thoughts were complete anarchy. Arceus Damn it! With that old slug found she’ll be back and warming his bed within the next year! All my plans to find and influence her replacement just went up in smoke! I should have known that those stupid Crusaders wouldn’t kill them!

“My lord may I be the first to offer my congratulations on such wonderful news! If there is anything that any of us could do to help I’m sure my fellows would jump at the chance!” Morg’a said with cheer in her voice. Alex merely looked at her and let his eyes grow hard. So they did find D, and I think my people needs to spend a little time making sure that that tart doesn’t try to send anyone after little whoever go the scan or the kid

“I can only say that in this matter the Lady Morg’a speaks for me as will my lord. If there is anything my people and I can do to help you have but to command it.” Alex said as he bowed to his liege lord as the other Lords and Highlords copied him.

“Thank you but as I said measures are being done to return my beloved to me. May our people stand forever against all who would threaten us!” Dracula declared as he got up from his throne and his Pokemon followed him out the door. Alex looked at Camilla and fixed the right side of his collar and saw her and Magnus clench their right hands before he walked back to Victor and his maids. He grinned to himself as he walked. Time for an old friend and her son to come home at last, but how did they find them? And who better to ask then her brother and her best friend? He thought with a grin as he walked away with his two maids to ‘celebrate’.

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Cleo sighed as she and her Krokorok walked into her inner apartment. That meeting had been as nerve wracking as the rumors that had been swirling around the local net. The reality was even worse, Frankenmon powered by unknown means, and able to use attacks! That wasn’t even touch the fact that the Queen to be was alive with the Prince, that changed everything! When she returned she had given orders that all local wild Pokémon dens were to have surveillance equipment set up, if anything came to harvest fresh corpse, they would see them if they hit the dens. Why did she ever have to be chosen as the High Lord’s successor anyway? It was supposed to be just a simple Quest, why did her predecessor have to use it to choose replacement before he died, she was just an orphan who had to play peacekeeper at the orphanage. She didn’t like to fight, and his will that said she had to build her household herself without any of the previous staff, thank Arceus that Marshall Asim and his crew had stayed on and the homunculi maids. But things were hard; she had her pen pal to chat with! With a smile on her face she walked toward her computer, her Krokorok pulled out the chair to let her sit down and signed into a chat room. She had meet her friend on a message board about the impact Pokémon and human settlements had on each other, and since then the two of them had had conversations about care and feeding, exchanged recipes and helped each other deal with problems. She did feel a bit bad that he thought she was a middle management in a company who got promoted after her superior left, but the rest of the world wasn’t like her home, they didn’t have Lords and High Lords and to burden a doctor with her political problems just wasn’t the right thing to do.

SandyLady: You online Doc?

RockDoc: Hey Lady, how was your meeting.

SandyLady: The boss’s wife woke up from her coma, she’s going to return to the company but the medicine that helped wake her was almost stolen by thieves so security of all divisions were raised, and two people on my level are fighting with each other, I’ve had to issue a few orders that might get people hurt in the name of said security, what about you?

RockDoc: I have a bit of a problem myself; the mother of one of my old friends sent a quite inquiry about a girl she’s worried about, wants to double check something and my job says I should make it official, but everything I feel screams me to keep quit, I’m a bit conflicted.

SandyLady: So keep quiet and look into what might happen if you don’t, you might find something you don’t know you know about would happen. But why do you feel what you that way?

RockDoc: Thanks for the advice Lady, it’s a supervisor who would receive the report just rubs me the wrong way, something about them feels wrong to me.

Cleo went cold as she rereads the last message; some people Aura’s were able to ‘sense’ the nature of people, when they were hurt and needed help. Most of them became public servants, doctors or police if Doc felt something wrong about his supervisor, then they might be trouble if he went official on this. One piece of advice old man Victor had told her when she was sworn in was to trust her instincts about people and Pokémon. Said instincts said the Lady Morg’a was a trustworthy as a coin left in the sun was cold, so she trusted the advice.

SandyLady: Doc, one bit of advice I think I can pass on to you; always trust your instincts. Your hindbrain might be seeing what your forebrain can’t.

“Lady Ro Clor! We have a situation!” A voice called from her door. That was Marshall Asim, but he should be out along the dunes, helping set up the observation cameras. If he was back then there might be a rather large problem that needs the local High Lords authority.

“I’ll be right there!” Cleo called back as she typed one last message and walked toward her door, her Krokorok falling in step behind her. The duties of a desert High Lord never ended, but she was ready to meet them. Opening the door she was met with Marshall Asim, a hard faced black haired man wearing a black cloak over black clothes with a Braviary wearing a Searcher’s Gem next to him.

“What happened Marshal?” Cleo demand as he would only have his Braviary with him if he was searching for something before he came to see her. Gesturing for her and her Pokémon to follow him he led them down the hallway. His Braviary took flight and flew ahead and out a window.

“Everything was going like clockwork M’lady, we had finished setting up most of them when we hit the Northern Mountain, one of the caves is or was used by a herd of Trapinch as their nest, it was empty and it showed signs of a battle. Thankfully we found the herd at an oasis, but the herd defenders were all injured. The team I sent into the cave discovered a hole in the floor that led into a chamber; it looks like an early Ritual chamber. The battle damage in the cave looks like the herd was attack from the cave mouth and then who ever made the hole was attacked by something inside. The problem is a sand storm swept the region after this all happened, at least we think so.” Asim as he led her into a room with a map of her territory, marked with symbols for her towns, cities and Pokémon dens.

“Send word to all towns nearby to be on alert, anything or anyone out of the ordinary is to be reported at once. Once night falls patrols are to be run between the cities for the next week. The Trapinch are to be relocated to a territory where they can prosper, send word to the School of Aura, I want an archeological team to be sent to study those ruins as soon as possible. And put the Gates on full alert for the next 2 weeks, if people broke into that chamber I don’t want it to be easy for them to escape.” Cleo Ro Clor, Highlord of the Inner Desert commanded as she gazed upon a map of her lands. What happened when the chamber was breeched, what did they wake up and who were they? I always knew I would face a trial by fire, this has to be it. Cleo thought as she walked through the palace to the situation room.

SandyLady: Sorry Doc, duty calls. Good luck with your problem.

Brock sighed as he read the last message SandyLady had sent him. For a corporate manager she always had the right thing to say to help him. Maybe it was wrong to let her think he was only a doctor, but the problems of a Gym Leader, even one who was away from their gym weren’t for the faint of heart. Just last week he had helped to take down a pack of Houndor and the alpha Houndom to relocate them to stop a swarm of Paras from raiding the city, thankfully his Marshtomp had evolved and defeated the alpha. The Pokemon Rangers had a nice valley far enough away that was perfect for the Dark Fire types, and there was supposedly a river full of water types between the valley and the habitat of the Paras, so there was no way for them to go after them or return to their old habitat.

Getting up from his computer he thought back to Delia’s message. She had sent a text that she was worried about a new hire at her restaurant, and was that a surprise when he and Misty first visited Pallet Town! To think Ash had grown up in around a commercial restaurant, and that it was famous! But the girl was the problem or had a problem. She had been settling in fine but all of a sudden she had started to jump at anything and seemed to have closed off from people. Delia had contacted him because she had a Johto accident and he currently was at learning about medicine in Viridian City and was wondering if he heard anything from Johto from either the towm or his position as a Gym Leader. He had sent back that he hadn’t heard anything, but he didn’t tell her that a few days ago he had run into Karen, a member of the Elite Four, while his party was hunting the pack in the mountains. Sure she had said something about a monstrous creature she was tracking but Brock didn’t think a Chimera was connected to the girl, but like he told SandyLady, something about Karen was just wrong. He couldn’t describe it but he’ll trust it for now and contact a few of the gym leaders in Johto through couriers, maybe one of them had heard something.

As Brock walk out of his room he never thought that maybe the monstrous creature Karen was hunting was really the girl in question, never thought that maybe others were watching people like him who would help her without question. Brock never saw the glint of light a pair of binoculars gave off as a silent watcher cataloged his activities.

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Lilith was able to identify the Aura from the sparks and had tracked her to and from a bus stop and was able to finally catch her and was currently tailing her toward the Professor’s lab. When she saw the girl in question she was able to get a general read of her Aura, this girl was someone with a good heart and a bit of creativity, and watching the interactions she had when she interacted with people and Pokémon between her and the lab she seemed to be a pleasant person. A good fashion sense, natural beauty and what looked like a great personality and a bit of creativity, the prince had a good one after him.

Lilith let a smirk grace her lips before she walked a tiny bit faster; she had to time this just right, she reached for a button on a crossing post and hit Serena’s hand.

“Sorry about that, you need to cross too?” Lilith asked the honey haired girl.

“Yeah, I’m heading toward Professor Sycamore lab, what about you.” Serena asked as she looked at the black clothed girl. There was something that seemed to pull Serena out of the shell she had around herself.

“The same, he has some information that I need for my journey. Oh, sorry I forgot to introduce myself, the names’ Lilly and you are?” Lilly said she offered Serena a hand.

“Serena Yvonne, nice to meet you Lilly.” Serena said as they both walked toward the Professors lab.

“Nice to meet you too Serena, so have you decided on a goal for your journey?” Lilly asked as the walked toward the lab’s door.

Serena only blushed and walked faster, opening the door, pretending that she hadn’t heard anything.

“Hello? Is Professor Sycamore around?” Serena called out as they walked into the building

“That’s me. I’m up here.” A voice called out from atop a set of stairs opposite the doorway

“Huh? Hello there. I’m Serena and this is Lilly.”

“I bet you two are here to become Pokémon Trainers.” Sycamore said as he smiled at the two girls as he walked down the stairs.

“She is, I’m here for the information you have on when the Pokémon Contests happen.” Lilly said as she held up a Pokéball.

“Yup. Also, Professor, I saw this Trainer on the news. The report was all about how he had saved a Garchomp.” Serena said as she went a bit red in the face.

“Oh, you're talking about Ash.” Sycamore said as Serena smiled. Ash, I knew it!

“I ran into him at the Pokemon Center. He said he was heading for the Santalune Gym.” Lilly said, causing Serena to turn and look at her.

“Santalune Gym? Hmm. Professor, may I choose a Pokémon?” Serena said turning back to the Professor.

“Of course. And do you have any idea which Pokémon you'd like?” Sycamore asked. Lilly stood back and watch with a smile. A trainers first Pokémon was a mystical moment that only happen once for anyone, and only after a while did people understand what happened to them.

“Yup.”

“All right. Everybody out!” Sycamore called to the right before a woman in a white lab coat led three forms into the room.

“These are the Kalos Pokémon new Trainers may choose from, Fennekin, Chespin and Froakie. Which Pokémon will you choose as your partner?” Sycamore asked as he turned back to Serena with a smile.

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P A treon.com/bardofworlds for special rewards for all patrons

Crusaders: Knights who launched attack on Homeland and kidnapped Ash and Delia

Aura Link: The result of two or more auras connecting, the people must meet and spend time with each other first, but when entering an area of 50 miles area sparks seemingly flow between auras unless something is blocking connection

Psi-Changer: Aura Equipment: Gemstone Type Special. A Gem that creates a false ‘mind’ that is the opposite of what the wearer is thinking, a convert defense against mind readers

#pokemon fanfiction #Pokemon AU #Ash-Harem #Dhampire Ash

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96percentdone · 5 years

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The Moonlit Prince and the Lying Thief (Part 2)

Am I late? Yeah. Sorry about that kids I’ve been very busy today! But it’s a day 2 entry anyway for @oumasaiweek, and my tangled AU continues on strong! I think you’ll like the update.

As always, if you want to read the whole thing, you can find it on my blog. I tag them all v3 Tangled AU. I hope you enjoy!

Underneath the all-encompassing darkness of the night, three shadowy figures traverse the bumpy rooftop shingles adorning the palace roof. The figures in the back, a pair of siblings with flowing black hair and matching green clothes, slide and stumble ever so slightly as they trail behind the short man in the front. They do not complain, for they know he would only stop to mock them. ‘Nishishi~ You agreed to this job and yet you can’t handle some roof parkour!’ Instead they whisper amongst themselves, brother and sister, about their plans once the crown is safe from the grasp of the kingdom.

The man in front, the elusive Doukeshi, is aware of his partners’ unpreparedness, but it doesn’t concern him. If he could do this job alone, he would have, but robbing the King and Queen is not a task for only one man, as skilled as he may be. He was not involving his family in this. Should this last quest go wrong, it is better for them to remain where they are, safe. Beneath the venetian harlequin mask, cool violet eyes narrow at the faint specks of blue on the horizon. The sun is rising, and with the sun he’s doomed to fail, but he smirks. He’s always liked a challenge.

Over the bridge, and through the woods, Shuuichi lies in his warm bed, reading a worn-out novel by the flickering light of the lantern. He should be sleeping—there’s still time before sunrise, but he woke up early, and he’s almost through with the book, so he’ll finish it before he sees his aunt off in the morning. The tower is an easy place to leave, so long as you have the patience to plow through the pages. With a faint smile, he turns the page.

There’s a knock on the entrance to his room. Looking up he’s greeted by the tired and wrinkled face of Tsumugi. “You’re up so early, Shuuichi,” she says, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

He slides the familiar red bookmark in place, and closes the book. “Good morning, Aunt Tsumugi. I could say the same to you.”

“Yes well, I have a few more errands than usual to run today, so I thought it would be best of me to get a head start.” She laughs, and cards her fingers through the feet of his long silver hair by the foot of the bed, pulling it gently into her lap. There’s the faintest hint of wrinkles behind her tired blue eyes.

“Do you need me to sing before you go?”

“If you would, dear.”

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and sings. “Flower gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine.” As he sings, white light travels from the roots of his hair down the long silver strands. “Heal what has been hurt. Change the fates’ design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine.” The wrinkles dissipate from her hands and face. “What once was mine.”

When the song ends, the light fades from his hair, and Tsumugi leans forth, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you.” Rising from her seat, the hair in her lap falls back to the bed. “I should head out. I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? Oh—” She stops herself at the entranceway. “Do you need anything? Although keep in mind your birthday is tomorrow.”

Ah yes, Shuuichi’s birthday, the day his aunt took him in after his parents’ passing, or so he’s told. “Actually,” he starts, but the rest of the sentence is caught deep in his throat. There is something he wants, something he’s wanted for as long as he can remember, but he doesn’t know how to ask. Can he ask? He’s not allowed to leave the tower, and yet—“For my birthday, I wanted to…”

“You wanted to…?” But she already can sense the answer.

“I was hoping to see those floating lights,” Shuuichi finishes, weakly, casting a nervous glance at his aunt.

“Oh? The stars?” And though she phrases it as a question, there’s an implicit ‘we’ve discussed this before.’

“I really don’t think they are.” Shuuichi gets up, running his hands along the numerous books lining the many bookcases in his room, before pulling out an astronomy book. He flips to the maps in the back—it’s easier to read than the other book’s maps—and shows it to her. “There are no stars like that. Not in any of the books you’ve given me.” And he has at least seven devoted to stars.

“Yes, well, we did talk about this didn’t we?” Tsumugi sighs, long and exhausted, and gently closes the old leathery book in his hands. “You’re just plain unsafe outside. I wouldn’t feel comfortable risking it.” She could use several excuses—he’ll trip over his hair, there’s plenty of unknown disease, that the world is selfish and wicked—but she’ll stick with her best bet. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. If anyone tried to kidnap or hurt you, you wouldn’t be able to take a stand for yourself. You’re quite fragile, dear. And very easy to scare.”

He deflates, shoulders sagging as his eyes drop to stare at the floor. Despite taking him in for purely selfish reasons, her heart twinges a little whenever sadness overtakes those eyes. But it isn’t enough to change her mind. She will never let him leave. Running a hand through silky silver hair, she cups his cheek, and he looks up at her. “Think about what you want while I’m out, okay? I’ll go as far as I must to make it up to you.” Of course, she won’t go too far, but they both know he won’t ask that of her.

He nods, the smallest suggestion of a smile gracing his lips. A sign she can leave at ease. Together they head to the living room window, and he rings his hair around the hook, preparing to lower her down. “Take care. I love you.”

“I love you too~ You can sleep in some more, but make sure to clean up before I return, okay?” As soon as she’s made it to the grass clearing safely, Shuuichi heads back to his book, losing himself in an ongoing adventure.

Like all of his adventures, the trickiest part for Doukeshi is not getting caught. He doesn’t make a single sound as the siblings lower him from the skylight in the roof, merely observing his surroundings. Only a single guard is on duty in the enormous and vacant room, standing before the podium that holds the prince’s unused crown, and humming a small tune. The relaxed security is exactly what makes this the prime time to strike.

Carefully, he picks up the sparkling silver crown, and pockets it in his leather satchel. The guard doesn’t seem to notice. In and out, super simple. But he doesn’t think that’s quite so fun, now is it? “Never heard that song before, what’s it called?” With his free hand he cups his cheek, feigning curiosity.

“Oh, it’s called You—” But the oblivious guard stops himself. Why is anyone talking to him at this hour? He jumps up, whirling around and jostling the hat on his head that doesn’t quite fit over the spikes of purple hair, only to see the masked thief gleefully waving at him as he ascends towards the ceiling. “You come back here with that crown!”

Back on the roof, Doukeshi laughs, undoing the harness with ease, and the sun slowly rises behind him. “Lady, gentleman, I think it’s time we go.” The alarm bell rings loud and clear, and they take off towards the outskirts of town.

The bell can only mean one thing, and judging by the expression on Kaito’s face as he rushed into the guards’ quarters, it means the crown was stolen. As everyone dashes out the front gate, following the thieving trio, Maki finds herself being stopped. “Hey who said you were going?” Kaito asks.

Maki sighs, tying back her long hair so it fits neatly under her bright red hat. “They said all guards must go, so I’m going.” Even in an emergency, it seems Kaito has the time to harass her.

“Yeah, but you’re not a guard. You’re still in training.”

“Are you really planning on keeping me in training when the king has been robbed?” She gets on her horse Kurohana, and charges off through the town to the woods. There are bigger problems at hand, like that pesky thief whose been assailing the citizens of kingdoms across the globe, having finally made his way here.

She’s not left alone for long, however, as another galloping set of hooves can be heard trailing close behind her. “Yeah, but we’re not supposed to let rookies go on dangerous missions!” Kaito calls out from behind her.

“And if it were up to you, Momota, I would be a rookie for the rest of my life.” She keeps her eyes on the approaching forest, jostling the reigns. At the gesture, Kurohana speeds ahead, quickly catching up with the other guards. From behind her Kaito shouts something about how they’ll talk about this when everyone gets back, but she doesn’t care. This is her chance to prove herself. And then he’ll have to accept her position. She’ll make him.

The guards are their heels, easy to spot in the distance, as the thieving trio dashes through the woods. Doukeshi makes a quick left, and the sibling duo chases after. They don’t have too long until the guards catch up, and he knows it. “So, what exactly is the plan here?” The older sibling, Ayaka, asks, ushering her brother to hurry up. Korekiyo quits glancing behind them and catches up, but it’s clear the nerves didn’t leave him.

“Just follow me for a bit! We need to lose them for real,” Doukeshi replies, scanning the maple trees for a familiar mark—there it is. The gash he cut a day in advance. He makes a hard turn to the right, trading the small remains of a forest path for grass and ivy and dirt.

“What about the rendezvous point?” She demands. Ah yes, that. The thing that they decided on when they agreed to do this mission with him. The place they were planning to ambush him with a paid off team, take the crown, and run.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Leave the negotiating to me, little brother,” Ayaka says, edge in her tone, and that’s all it takes to silence Korekiyo once more.

“Well you can go that way,” Doukeshi says. They can all hear the sound of horses and men getting louder. “If you want to get caught, that is.” Oh, he knows all about their plan. What kind of thief is stupid enough to trust his fellow thief? Especially when he’s the most wanted thief in the land, and there’s a sizeable bounty on his head if he’s turned in. He’s ripe for betrayal, and he knows it.

The small cliffside approaches. It’s time for his counter-plan. “Now, if you want to throw them off for long enough to get to safety, I’m going to need you two to help me up. Then I’ll help you up, easy peasy, we escape, sell this for a lot of cash, and you and I part ways never to speak of this again!”

Ayaka doesn’t say anything, just holds out her gloved hand. She’s not stupid enough to let him just run off with the reward. With a dramatic sigh, Doukeshi hands the satchel over, but to Korekiyo. “Think this looks better on him,” he snickers. Korekiyo seems vaguely amused behind the mask, but Ayaka merely glares.

Still, they form a makeshift lattice to scale the minor cliff, with only the grumbling from Ayaka. The last thing she wanted to do today was be the ladder for a childish thief. She grunts when he steps badly on her shoulder, but eventually Doukeshi makes it to the top. “Now help us up.”

But Doukeshi wears a smarmy grin, and winks behind his mask. In his hands is the satchel, that he knicked from Korekiyo on the way up. “Nishishi~ I’d love to, but can’t,” he says, and leaves them behind for the woods.

The endless sea of trees outside Shuuichi’s window looks the same as it ever does, with the wind lightly tousling the leaves. Even as he cleans the windowsill for the seventh time that morning, he wonders what it would be like to walk beneath them, instead of just staring, wishing for a reality that is not meant to be his.

What should he ask for, if not the lights? He could always go for new books, but his shelves are near to bursting, and there’s no more room in the tower to add any more. Maybe a book about the lights? But just thinking of that reminds him of what he isn’t allowed to see. It wouldn’t be the same to have a book explain away such a tangible mystery for him.

Exhaling, he sits on the window sill, feet dangling over the edge of the balcony. If he wanted to, he could wrap his hair around the hook, lower himself to the ground, and make a break for it. His aunt would never know. Except she would, as soon as she got back. He can’t leave. His life begins and ends here. “Or I guess, it doesn’t begin at all.”

Maybe he’ll just read one of the books again. It’s better than staring out at the forest lost in his dreams.

The woods are easy to get lost in, an endless expanse of verdant trees, all of them far too similar unless one is familiar with the land. Luckily, Maki knows the forest pretty well, unconcerned about anything except catching her prey when she split from the group. There’s a telltale sign of boots tracking in the mud, and she knows she’s on that thief’s tail. “Faster,” she says, and Kurohana speeds ahead. She’ll catch him. She has to.

But the footprints suddenly stop. Where did he go? If she judges solely by their absence, he must be here, but she can’t see him. There’s nothing but dirt and trees.

Clang. A small rock hits her chestplate from above, and high in the branches she sees a silhouette. Doukeshi. “Looking for me?” She growls, refusing to deign him with a response. He thinks that kind of petty behavior is a little adorable, in a pathetic way. “You really gonna leave such a sweet horse? What if I steal it?”

Maki shakes her head, petting Kurohana for a moment after dismounting. “She wouldn’t go with you if you did. I’ve trained her better than that.”

“Boooring. I wanted a horse too.” Doukeshi watches her from a far up branch. She’s pretty good at climbing, finding all the same footholds he did, and grabbing all the right branches. He didn’t expect her to be so fast with that armor, but if anything, that works out better for him. An impulsive guard is easy to trick. “But y’know I don’t have the crown anymore.”

At that she stops, gazing up at him with skeptical red eyes. “It’s true I don’t!” As he says that, he opens up the satchel, revealing that it’s empty. “I mean you could capture me, but you’d still be missing the most valuable item. My partners double-crossed me.”

Maki thinks it over for a minute, but continues climbing. “Capturing you is enough.” She’s just about to reach him.

Doukeshi laughs, loud and obnoxious, revealing the crown he stuffed under his jacket. “That’s a good call Guard-chan.” Just before she can snatch him, he takes the crown, stuffs it back in the bag, and tosses it so it snags onto a nearby tree branch. “I hope you’ve got monkey instincts then~”

“Bastard!”

He swings himself onto the nearby tree, grabs the satchel, and drops to the floor, leaving the guard still stuck in a tree behind him. There’s only so much she can handle in that armor. Clever as he is, he didn’t buy himself that much time, so he needs somewhere to hide and fast. Bolting through the undergrowth—he’s glad grass doesn’t leave tracks—he scans the nearby area, desperate to find something, anything. But there’s trees, trees, a rock, more trees, an ivy covered cave, trees—that’s it!

The dewey leaves brush past his skin as he runs through the vines, skidding to a stop in the cave. Holding his breath, he presses himself against the cave wall. She’s here. Against the vines is the silhouette of a person on a horse. ‘Go away, go away, go away’ he pleads silently, to himself. He’s almost free. A minute passes, and then she’s gone. Exhale. Relief floods his body.

Now, where is he? No longer in a rush, he wanders from the small cave to a grassy plain. And at the center of it all is—“whoa!”—a tower. It looms large over the field, even rivaling the height of some of the nearby trees. Who would hide a tower away in a place like this? But with the moss growing up the side of some of the stones, maybe it’s abandoned. It’s a good place to hide out for a while.

Fumbling around for the stakes in his pocket, he starts to climb.

There’s more noise coming from outside the tower than usual, Shuuichi thinks. It can’t be Tsumugi; she would just call for him. So, why does it sound like someone’s outside? And grunting? Leaving the book abandoned on the bed, he slips down the stairs into the main room, grabbing the frying pan from the cooking cabinet on the way past.

If someone’s coming for him, if someone’s found him—he needs to defend himself. But can he do it? Tsumugi is right; he’s totally unprepared for this! He’s never done this before! Is he even strong enough? What if he can’t knock them out? Or there’s too many to knock out? Or both? Oh he’s so screwed if he doesn’t do this right—

A man in a mask climbs over the windowsill. This is it. He doesn’t seem to see Shuuichi, because the first thing he does is peer into his bag. “Good. We’re safe.”

And then Shuuichi whacks him over the head with a frying pan, and Doukeshi is knocked right out.

#oumasaiweek #oumasai #saiouma #Ouma Kokichi #Saihara Shuuichi #ndrv3 #hope.txt #my fic #v3 Tangled AU #dangan ronpa #if its a nightmare for grammar its cause I haven't had the chance to have it proofread #I'll fix those later #when my editor is awake #but for now #I'm late #so here it is!

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stuckonswan · 6 years

Text

The Inn of Senrof, Act I

It’s still the 31st in Californiaaaaa After many many MANY months of working on this, I have finally completed my work for the sanders sides big bang run by the lovely blog @ts-storytime An apology for being so late to post, the entire month has been nothing but struggles and things kept popping up to delay me. A major thanks to @bloodropsblog who did everything I could possibly ask of them.

Click Here for Act II

Click Here for art done by @zennyo

Click Here for art done by @lady-literature

Another thanks goes to my lovely artists, @zennyo and @lady-literature who have been patient and supportive, I hope you enjoy the final product.

Trigger Warnings: violence, cursing, fire, arguments, blood, injury

Virgil

Pulvis et umbra sumus

His cloak was a worn black, faded with time and covered in rushed patch jobs, the velvet purple lining the inside peeking out in many places. To most, it would have been retired and packed away, or repaired until very little of its original fabric remained.

However, for Virgil, it was his beginning. The cloak with its deep hood and stitched pockets was where he began his endeavors. Each mark on the garment was a memory, an arrow too close or a sword slash too slow. It reminded him he was alive. That he could fight and that he would win.

So it stayed, secured around his throat, barely keeping him warm with all the holes and tears. The wind billowed around it as he rode on his horse, towards the small town of Senrof.

Senrof was a small city, hidden in the valley between two mountains and where Virgil rode to meet his boisterous and excitable partner, Roman.

The pair had been getting more attention as adventurers and, as a result, have been encountering less than ideal situations where a extra teammate would have made the situation far less dangerous as it had been originally. Coincidentally, a pair of adventurers who’d also been searching for a partner, attempting to make a team more suitable for dangerous missions. Roman had encountered them during a visit in the City of Shrines and they had agreed to meet in Senrof to discuss a possible alliance.

Virgil was a half day's ride away, and running late, as if the gods themselves were against his appearance in the forgotten town. As he rode on, he remembered the last conversation he had had with Roman, nearly a fortnight ago.

“I don’t like this.” Virgil grumbled, taking a large swig of his wine. The pair were staying in an inn, just west of the city of shrines. After a grueling quest, they escaped the city to resupply and rest for two weeks.

It seemed Roman had other ideas, however, as he instead wanted to use their downtime to discuss joining up with another pair of adventurers.

“That’s because change is a foreign concept to you, stormcloud.” Roman jokes, dodging the punch to his arm before taking a sip of his drink and continuing, “We need them if we are to take on higher paying jobs.” Roman clapped Virgil on the shoulder. “One’s a healer, the other’s a talented magician. They’d be of good use.”

“I’m not saying they wouldn’t be. But how do we know we can trust them, Ro?” He was paranoid and Roman knew it. It wasn’t that strange a trait to have when you realized he grew up in an assassins guild. It was expected to be stabbed in the back when you let your guard down. Virgil never really shook that particular habit, and had no want to anyhow.

“The healer is a paladin, Shadow. They’re good, trustworthy men. I promise.”

Virgil had just rounded the bend, lost in thought as he trekked the mountain slope when the thieves attacked, throwing him off his horse and into the snow below. He sucked in a fruitless gasp as the wind rushed out of his body. The three masked thieves rifled through his saddlebags, ignoring Virgil’s prone form on the ground.

A dangerous mistake when robbing someone, Virgil thought angrily, scowling into the snow. The least they could do if they were going to rob him is rob him well. Their daggers were still sheathed, the familiar mark of the assassins guild carved into the hilts. Virgil nearly snorted at the sight. Just his luck to be attacked by his peers.

I’m better, the voice in the back of his mind spoke up. They’re amateurs at best, he noticed, and certainly not taught by her.

“Today’s not your lucky day, boy,” a man snarled from under his mask, probably the leader and certainly the oldest. They moved slowly and clumsy, their feet kicking up snow as they went.

‘Boy?’ The word stuck under his skin, the jab at his apparent naivete leaving a sour taste on his tongue.

Slowly, Virgil stood, his knees shaking with nerves he never could seem to get rid of. His cheek was stung from having been scratched in the fall and his arms were covered in gooseflesh, his cloak having fallen from his shoulders. He knew he looked small and pitiful and it only served to make him angrier.

He stood to his full height, bringing himself up above the thieves. He may be thin but he towered over most. “I believe it’s you who should be worried,” he snapped in irritation.

Before they could react, he smirked, falling into a step sequence he knew by heart. His feet moved along the pattern burned into his muscle memory. The steps flowing through his body as he spun and danced and twisted himself around. In the blink of an eye he was gone.

The darkness having swallowed him whole, welcoming him into the inky black of the rich swath of shadows beneath the mountain.

The thieves, ill trained as they were, spun in circles to try and find his cloaked form. They moved with frustrated caution, unsheathing their daggers and calling out to him as if that will make him reappear.

Virgil rolled his eyes. And they thought him naive.

Fast as lightning, Virgil flew through the shadows, incapacitating the men with practiced ease. They were unconscious before they hit the ground.

Virgil did a sweep of the area, making sure no one else was hidden in the treeline. Just because these men were sloppy didn’t mean he needed to be. When he decided it was safe, he stepped from the shadows, the sunlight once again touching his face.

Completely on autopilot, he removed all the thieves possessions from their persons. Coins, knives, and any valuable items they may have stolen. He left them with little more than the clothes on their back. Then he grabbed a length of rope, tying them securely to a tree he knew was near a soldier’s patrol route.

When he was finished and realized he was safe again, the weight of the moment fell onto his chest making it hard to breathe. He took deep breaths to hold back his oncoming panic attack, but he could never really calm down without Roman chattering in his ear.

It took him seven minutes to start breathing normally again, and another three to calm Sombra down.

The damn thieves in the mountain ranges were getting out of hand. Virgil knew Roman blamed the guild, though he wouldn’t dare say those words aloud for fear of hurting his feelings.

He had trained there and he’d always be a part of the guild. It was his roots and no matter how hard he tries to distance himself, he knows you can’t run away from something that’s apart of you. No matter how hard you try or fast you run.

The shadows licked at his feet as he moved, loyal as they were for the few that they chose the help. They blurred the edges of his form, trying to pull him back into their dark realm. Trying to keep him safe. He smiled and cast them away with a quick flick of his wrist, placating them for the time being before throwing a leg up and climbing onto Sombra’s back.

It wasn’t until sundown that he reached the town, he and Sombra exhausted and ready for a rest. And it wasn’t until moonrise that he reached the inn.

Virgil had paid for a stall in the stables on the outside of the town and decided to walk the rest of the way to the inn, giving his nerves time to settle. He passed several small houses and shops, all closed several hours ago. Only the blacksmith was still open, the owner bringing a hammer down on a screaming lump of metal, still blazing with fire. The moon was at its apex and the shadows swirled around him, beckoning him into the darkness between the many buildings.

Soon, the Inn was standing before him. A lame building, clearly on its last legs. Crumbling bricks looking like a hard wind would send the building crashing to the ground at Virgil's feet. He continued forward, his eyes on the inn at the town’s center and the man clinging to the eaves.

“Has my shadow finally returned to me?” a man standing beside the doorway of the inn called out, his face hidden in shadows. Virgil rolled his eyes at him as he stepped out into the light. Roman had been calling him his shadow since their first quest together, when Virgil had quite literally become Roman’s shadow to maintain the element of surprise over their enemies.

“I thought I told you that if you called me that again I’d throw your stuff in the nearest stream, shall I make good on my promise?” The threat was half-hearted at best and Virgil was smiling as he said it, enjoying their inside joke of three years. As he stepped into the soft glow of torchlight surrounding the inn he realised the friendly expression did nothing for Roman in the darkness he was just standing in. His fear evaporated as Roman stepped out of the shadows, bearing a smile as well.

“It’s good to see you, Ro.” The pair clasped hands in greeting. Virgil looked his friend over for signs of battle, checking to make sure he was alright. When the thief found none he stepped back, waiting for Roman to finish his more obvious examination.

“Well you’re late, so I can call you whatever I please,” Roman snarked, stepping back to lean against the wall of the inn. He was wearing his flashy white tunic with the gold accents. The golden buttons he bought on the last job, securing the blood red cape to his shoulders.

He was dressed up like a presenting peacock, the obvious outcast in a sea of dull peasant browns and greens. But after the many years of partnership with him, Virgil had given up trying to talk him out of it. “We’re supposed to meet the others inside at sundown. It’s almost a new day, Shadowling.”

Virgil’s hands shook and he smoothed down the cloak, feeling the worn black velvet on his fingers. “I got held up. Some bandits on the mountain ambushed me.” At Roman’s worried look, Virgil added, “They’ve been handled. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Roman frowned, irritation and worry in his eyes. Despite his best efforts to keep his partner calm, Virgil knew that Roman was constantly worried about him during their brief periods of separation. “I’m glad you made it here unscathed, Virgil.” Roman let out a deep breath before brightening. “Come on. As I said before, we’re very late.” He flicked his cape around him with a flourish before pushing open the door.

The bar was empty save for a few patrons scattered here and there. Most were slumped over cups of ale, snoring worse than Roman on a cold night. Despite the few patrons, it was loud and dirty inside. Virgil eyed the room with distaste.

“I see you still have poor taste in taverns,” He remarked, scrunching his nose as he maneuvered around the tables.

While Virgil had yet to meet his future companions face to face, he trusted Roman’s judgment and just looking around the room, he knew immediately who they were. There were only two men in the bar that Virgil deemed fit for travel, and Roman knew how shallow and picky Virgil could be when he wanted. He would only pick what he thought was best. Besides, he was allowed to be picky, he was one of seven Shadowdancers in the world. It’s not like you could hire one at the market. And if you could, you’d be poor from the effort.

The two men worthy of more than a half second glance were huddled in the far corner. Their table looked to be barely holding itself together but the position was the most defendable should someone attack the inn. The pair looked to be in deep in conversation, their heads bent towards each other as they spoke in hushed tones. The man on the left had cropped, brown hair and a tall stature from what he could see. He wore long, billowing robes of deep navy and light gray silks. Dusted over his cloak were words of power, scripted in what seemed to be golden thread. He held himself with confidence and power, his back straight and shoulders squared. He looked hesitant to touch anything besides his chair and the table.

Virgil rolled his eyes, A spoiled nobleman’s child out studying magic. Roman better know what he’s doing.

To the right of the magic user was a man in lightly glowing armor. His hair was a light brown, almost blonde that curled just past his ears. He seemed to cast a light over the dim bar both literally and figuratively, walking closer Virgil felt magic flow through him and was calmer if only for a moment. His sword glowed brighter than the light he already cast and Virgil decided it was some sort of godly light. Now that Virgil was closer he could see that the armor he wore was well kept yet lightly tarnished, as if it had seen recent battle.

He gestured wildly at his partner, his face animated despite his whispered tones. As they grew closer, Virgil heard this man frequently cut off the other in favor of his own voice. They approached quickly, moving through the maze of tables and the occasional bar maid or patron. By the time they got to the table, Virgil’s heart beat like a metronome to a ghost song. A deep pit was forming in his stomach and he wished he had talked to Roman more before walking in here.

Logan

There is no great genius without some touch of madness

-Aristotle

“How good can they be if they can’t even handle being punctual, Patton?” Logan whispered hotly, eyes scanning the bar on the first floor of the inn. The disgruntled bartender was washing the counters as he spoke to the patrons sitting up there with him. He all but ignored the pair of adventurers tucked away in the back corner, seated at a table riddled with scars and scrapes.

It was a sad inn. There were few customers and the furniture had clearly seen better days. The walls were littered with holes and deep gashes. And Logan firmly believed that the tables had to be imbued with some form of magic because they should have long since crumpled to nothing.

As a whole, Logan thought of Senrof as a pitiful town to stow away in, waiting for two people with no concept of time as it would seem. He was growing impatient, but Patton was hellbent on teaming up with whoever these people were.

“Well you never did like to give newcomers a chance Logan, but we really do need them. It’s getting more and more dangerous out there. The seem like good people, Logan. His partner’s even a dancer, Lo!”

“I hardly see the point of a dance-” Logan was cut off by Patton waving his arms to silence him.

“A Shadowdancer. Taught under she who walked through the shadow plane. The shadow plane, Logan!” Patton took a deep breath, his excitement practically vibrating through him, before he continued, smiling at Logan earnestly. “He’s a good kid and Roman’s a talented Bard. Handy with a longsword as well.” Logan sighed frustratedly. While an excellent partner with a moral compass so good it was almost uncanny, Patton was far too trusting.

These people could be good as Patton believes . Or they could be waiting to kill them and rob them blind for good measure. The latter seemed more likely to Logan than the former and he prefered himself alive, thank you very much.

After all, you can’t cast if you’re dead.

Logan forced himself to admit that they sounded good. However, he and Patton were better he was almost positive. More than good. He and Patton meshed in a way that was near indescribable. Logan had never felt this comfortable around someone else, and he certainly didn’t want two strangers coming in and ruining everything. They made an excellent team as they were.

“I’m just not sure, Patton. If it isn’t broken-”

“Break it.”

In front of them stood two men, the left-most having finished his statement, albeit incorrectly. They appeared to be adventurers, although one was dressed in a crisp white uniform, a golden circlet resting atop his golden hair while the other looked like he had been dragged by a horse down a hill, his cloak taking the brunt of the damage. It was fairly easy to deduce which man was the Shadowdancer and which the Bard. Logan was sure even Patton could tell, he could read people like the best clairvoyants and yet when it came to determining a person’s prefered fighting style, Patton always failed.

Patton stood, grinning from ear to ear as he walked around the table to shake both their hands. “Roman! And you must be, Virgil? Was it?” Patton hesitated on the other man’s name and could see him physically wince. Despite this, Roman nodded and Patton moved away from their table and shook both their hands, grabbing Roman by the forearm in a warriors grasp and then shaking Virgil’s hand as if he were made of glass.

Patton was always pulling things like this on Logan, inviting other adventurers to their table to share stories and regale each other with fantastic tales. Patton normally kept his group of the night up well after moonrise. It was perplexing the amount of energy he would have after a battle or an entire day of traveling. While Logan prefered to sit with a book and a tall glass of ale, Patton preferred company and wouldn’t hesitate to find it once Logan started ignoring him. This time however, Patton had agreed to travel with these new adventurers and while he loathed to be apart of a bigger group, he couldn’t deny that the shadowdancing assassin was intriguing.

“Let’s not hound them Patton, they must have come a long way. At least give them time to sit and grab drinks,” Logan kept his tone neutral, as if he didn’t care whether they joined or not. In all honesty, it wasn’t difficult to act as though he didn’t want them and he wasn’t so sure he was acting after a moment of thought.

“Thank you for offering, my friend.” Roman sat down at the table with a hearty thunk, making himself comfortable as he waved over the bartender. After a moment of hesitation, so did his partner. Unlike Roman who stood out like a sore thumb, Logan would have had trouble noticing Virgil if he wasn’t staring right at him.

Almost immediately Roman waved over the bartender and soon a pitcher and two glasses were sitting next to the ones Patton had ordered earlier.

“So, shall we talk about this new arrangement before we drink?” The assassin spoke without preamble, straight to the point. A personality trait Logan could appreciate.

Virgil leaned over the table, the wood creaking under his weight as he swirled his finger over the edge of his drinking glass. It created a small warbling noise, almost musical in the quiet bar. “I prefer to talk business before my partner here drinks himself under the table.” The words were stamped at the end with a mild glare towards said partner, already half a glass of ale into the evening.

“I agree.” Logan said, a brow creeping its way up onto his forehead before he could stop it. Their partner dynamic seemed… interesting to say the least. For one, they had obviously been partners for years. This was made clear by their friendly banter and overall comfortableness around each other. Roman was quite obviously the unspoken leader similar to how Logan was the unspoken strategist between Patton and himself.

What was unusual was how similar the partnership seemed to his own. Yes, they were an odd pair and yet so were he and Patton.

Granted he had only been around the pair for mere minutes and yet he saw himself in both of them just as easily as he saw Patton in the pair. He caught Patton’s eye and saw him staring back, a gleam in his eye as if they were thinking the same thing. Patton saw it too. Logan stared for a few minutes more, lost in thought until someone pointedly cleared their throat as if waiting for an answer to a question he never heard.

“Logan, are you even paying attention?” Patton was talking to him, poking him in the side till he glanced over.

“Yes, sorry.” Logan glanced up, nodding to both travelers. “Now, what was it we were discussing?”

Patton waved off his lapse and brought him up to speed. “We were discussing our strengths. Roman is proficient with a longsword and is capable of magic!” He bounced in his seat excitedly, the energy of ten men inside his body.

“Ah of course, you’re the bard yes? And your associate is the dancer, correct?” They both nodded although Logan did not miss the look of irritation that flashed across Virgil’s face at the word, ‘dancer’. “I’m a practicing mage although most of my powers go to evocation. However, I am also proficient with spells to aid my companions.”

Roman nodded, “Sounds similar to what I do for Virgil. He’s the fighter in our group. While I am proficient with the sword, I normally aid him with my magic.”

Virgil thwacked him in the head with his sleeve, a playful smile on his face. “You only aid me when you remember you have magic.” Turning to Logan, the smile fell off his face and he became more composed. “I fight in the shadows, Roman usually fights alongside me until he remembers he can use magic.”

Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked over at the lithe and small frame of Virgil. Of course he was muscled, but he seemed far too fragile for a fighter.

But, even he was wrong sometimes. Looks can be deceiving, I suppose.

The rogue caught his eye and, seemingly reading his mind, narrowed his eyes in a challenge. Slow and purposeful, he reached for the hilt of his dagger and sank the blade into the table with a dull thud. It wasn’t deep, merely enough to keep the blade standing, but Logan heard the bartender make an affronted noise.

Both Roman and Patton made confused noises, unable to understand the power play. While excelling in certain areas, brains and strategy was neither’s forte. But virgil seemed to know what he was doing, knew what he needed to do to get what he wanted.

Another agile mind.

Interesting.

“I’ve been told you’ve had training with the assassin’s guild. You are remarkably small-built for a frequent combatant.” Logan spoke in a calm manner, his tone controlled, wanting to see how this played out.

“It doesn’t take much strength to use daggers. And an opponent with all the strength in the world means nothing if they can’t catch you.” His eyes twinkle in a way that makes Logan shift in his seat, silently reminding himself to never underestimate Virgil again. “Besides,” he continued, shifting to be more comfortable in the rickety wooden chair, “shadows don’t care if I’m not the strongest. Their skills are wit and stealth. I consider myself proficient in both of those. Understood?”

The pair held gazes for a moment. Virgil, to make sure he got his point across and Logan to make sure that while the battle was lost, the war was not.

“Of course.” Logan answered, tilting his head in a nod and breaking eye contact. He reached across the table, plucking the knife from the table and holding it in his hands to examine.

Logan didn’t know much of blades, but this one looked like a fine one. It made sense such a man would have a nice blade.

After a moment, he held the knife out, hilt first to Virgil, a sign of goodwill after such mind games. He knew they’d but heads in the future, but for now they could agree to a truce.

Virgil leaned back in his seat, twirling the blade with deadly precision before sliding it back in his holster. As he moved, Logan saw the outline of at least four more weapons on his person. Logan suspected he was wearing a bandolier, dozens of knives held to his chest.

Patton coughed to ease the tension, giving an easy if confused smile. “Well now that that’s… settled, how about discussing what we all came here for, yes? We didn’t come all the way here to talk, not that you aren’t lovely.” He and Roman share a laugh.

“Yes, I think now is a great time to start discussing important matters.” Roman sends Virgil a sharp look which the assassin steadfastly ignores. “While this has certainly been fun, I’m afraid that we don’t know how we’d work together as a team. Most jobs are dangerous. A single mistake could mean death or injury. How do we plan on being prepared?”

“My concerns exactly,” Logan agrees. Virgil looks at him in surprise but hides it before anyone else notices. “We cannot guarantee safety in such uncontrolled environments. A possible solution could be a simple mission with little fighting, but that could still end in injury.”

“Exactly! See, Roman? I’m not paranoid, I’m merely thinking ahead.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “Then what is your solution?” he asks, slamming back the remainder of his pint before refilling his glass.

Logan sighed, “If it fails then we go our separate ways, and we forget meeting each other.” He spoke the answer as if it was obvious and to him it was. Why would they continue as a party if a simple quest went awry. Patton, ever the cheery one, sat up straighter in his seat and leaned onto the table before speaking.

“Logan is just a pessimist, ignore him. A test run sounds like a swell idea and I’m sure it’ll go great. Right Lo?” The agreeing tone and the kick under the table had Logan nodding, if only to keep the peace. “Now that we have decided on where to go from here, how about dinner?” Patton waved over a waitress before anyone could protest and soon, their orders had been placed and Logan was once again sitting with his head in a book, ignoring the chattering of his newfound party.

The smell of warm food brought Logan’s nose away from the stiff pages of the book and he quietly put it away as the waitress slid platters onto their table. A large pitcher of ale and two platters of meat were accompanied by 4 wooden bowls filled with a strong smelling broth. Logan nodded at the barmaid in thanks, tossing her two silver pieces before grabbing a bowl. Other than the call for more ale from Patton, supper was a silent affair and afterwards, the party of four paid for the meal, and went outside towards the back of the inn to examine the quest board.

Like many towns, the quest board was right outside the inn, marked by a line of torches at the top of the wooden sign. However, unlike many towns, this board was thin for quests. Only three papers littered the massive board and none of them required the skill of four adventurers. Logan sighed, defeated if only for a moment. “Looks like no quests worthy of our attention. Of course we may do them for the gold they can bring us but it would be a better use of our time to travel elsewhere in search of a good trial quest.”

Patton gathered the papers regardless and nodded. “I agree with Logan. These papers detail ingredients that need to be gathered and children’s pets that have wandered.” he glanced at a child’s drawing of their own missing cat, carefully peeling it off the quest board, “I can deal with these at dawn, split the money four ways before we leave town. For now, I suggest we rent rooms and get some rest. It has been a tiresome day for us all and we must leave after breakfast tomorrow.” He looked at the pair next to him, a stern look set into his face, and waited for their nod of agreement before turning on his heel and walking back into the inn.

Logan fell in step behind the trio, looking back in disappointment at the board. One small close of the fist and the torches extinguished around the board, leaving a patch of darkness in the circle around the inn. He closed his fist entirely, nails digging into the flesh of his palm, and the area went dark entirely. The only light came from Patton as he led them back inside and up to the barkeep.

“I only got two rooms, double beds in em both.” the barkeep was talking to Patton already by the time Logan had stepped through the door. He sighed, watching as the barkeep handed over two small keys. His hands gestured upstairs with a dirty rag and then the foursome was upstairs, trotting down hallways to their rooms.

“So what did you think of them?” Patton was laying on his bed, having just finished his nightly prayers. His armor rested by the bed in a neat pile waiting to be polished and he had switched into a pair of cotton pants with a light blue tunic. He gazed over at Logan every so often, glancing at him before returning his eyes to the ceiling above him.

“They were certainly interesting. You have a knack for picking perplexing individuals, Patton..” Logan shuffled around, folding back his blankets and crawling into bed. Immediately his eyes shuffled closed and a wave of sleep crashed over him. He murmured a small good night to Patton and was then asleep.

Roman

“Where words fail, music speaks.”

-Hans Christian Anderson

Roman folded his clothes, making a small pile on the nightstand between the two beds. The moon was high in the sky, marking the late hour like a beacon and yet the pair were still awake. Virgil had already shucked off his clothes and was now pacing across the floorboards in a pair of linen pajamas, shirt flowing unbuttoned. Every so often he stopped to engage his partner and yet didn't bother trying to calm himself. Roman just started on, lazily strumming his lyre as Virgil attempted to saw a hole in the floor with an endless back and forth pattern as he walked. This had been going on almost an hour now, Roman’s eyes blurred from watching the motion.

“-and it’s everytime Ro! Why can you walk up to any random adventurer in a tavern and instantly have a seat with a pint of ale while I have to prove myself every damn time. I hate taverns.” He had been rambling nonstop since entering the room and Roman kept murmuring small remarks to keep Virgil under the belief he was listening. If he was honest with himself, Roman was just as angry. Yes, Virgil was a small, lithe body that hid in deep hooded cloaks for most of their friendship. It makes sense that people look at him without seeing the threat. However, Roman had watched Virgil throw daggers with deadly accuracy and seen him be swallowed whole by shadows, leaving no trace of where he is. He was powerful and yet his appearance masked any sign of strength. It worked for them in hostile situations but it was useless making allies.

“You can best five men in a fight without breaking a sweat. People’s first opinions may be wrong but their second is what matters most, Shadow.” Roman settled across the bed and turned to his partner. He plucked at the strings of his lyre, humming as he tuned the small instrument. “Now will you please settle? You’ll fall through the floor with all that pacing.”

Virgil collapsed onto the bed, it wobbling dangerously before settling against the floor. “It’s annoying, and frustrating. Not that you would know, Prince Perfect.” the name is a poor attempt at a jester to lighten the mood and Roman laughs if only to soothe his partner. It was true, while Virgil struggled at near every town, Roman could walk in anywhere and swindle a crowd to his side. They never took him seriously, but he had no problems making friends before traveling with Virgil.

“I have my own dealings, Shadow. Now try and rest. Tomorrow will be a new day and you’ll need your strength.” Roman strummed a soft and gentle rhythm, humming to the tune. It was melodic, calming for both. Instantly, Virgil’s eyes drooped down and he turned onto his side, grabbing the blanket to tug over his head.

For as long as they’d been partners, sleep was a rarity for Virgil. So for the better part of their friendship, Roman would make up nonsense chords to sway the shadowling into sleep. Sometimes he would sing lullabies and sometimes he would only have to hum for Virgil to fall prey to his tune. This was one of those nights, Virgil kicking off his boots and closing his eyes.

Roman continued his tune until Virgil’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, almost to the beat of the song. He gazed over at his companion, propping his lyre up by the nightstand between them.

It had been a long day. A long, difficult day for both him and Virgil. He would be branded a liar if he said the first meeting went well, Logan being an obvious problem for Virgil. Roman was unable to keep the peace between the two and as far as first meetings go, this one would unfortunately be considered an utter failure in his book. The team just didn’t click. He wasn’t sure they would ever be considered a decent team and the thought was...worrying to say the least.

Before long, Roman’s eyes grew heavy, exhaustion weighing him down like an anvil tied to his back. Shifting onto his side, Roman allowed his eyes to fall shut. His last thought before sleep overtook him was of the quest they would soon begin. Of course, he should have known sleep wouldn’t last long on nights like these.

He was stepping off a ledge, one foot impulsively moving off the side into the abyss below. The wind blew hard and fast, ripping at his clothes and hair. Fear rippled through his entire being and he could feel his heart beating like a tribal drum. The energy around the hole was dark, negative and ominous. He knew nothing good would come from stepping into the abyss in front of him. Yet he was halfway there already.

He could sense death and the image of a dark, almost black horse with a broken neck became all he could see. Like a terrifying play, the images pressed forward, showing him a broken party. His broken party. Roman surged forward, his weight toppling into the dark cavern below.

The felt like an eternity, but he could tell it only took mere minutes before he hit hard, on rocky ruins. Roman gasped for air, his lungs deflated after the impact stole his breath from his body. He lay prone, head barely lifted and saw chaos before him.

Virgil stood alone, betrayed by his own cloak which lay wrapped around his throat, throttling him. The thin fabric dragged him backwards with a choked scream followed by a sickening crack, 20 feet into the darkness. A silent scream ripped from his throat, helpless on the ground and unable to speak. On the floor Logan lay, moaning in agony with a bloody hole in his forearm. His eyes stared at the hole and back at his quarterstaff, broken in half at his feet. Patton stood with a smile yet his face was horribly marred, burns covering over half his face. Screams could be heard, echoing throughout the cavern and when Roman awoke he realized it was his own voice.

Gentle hands rested on his shoulders, a soft voice murmuring kind words to him. “Everything is okay, you’ll be fine Ro. It was just a dream. No one here is going to hurt you, not with me around.” Roman may be out of it, eyes unfocused and heart running a race it had long since lost, but he could recognize the voice of his shadow anywhere. It was as if someone had washed his body in cool water, a wave of calm rolling over him as he focused on the voice. Unshed tears blur his vision and he blinks them away, allowing the tears to trace their way down his face. Virgil’s profile appears above him, features sharpening as his eyes become tear free. Worry and concern flash through Virgil’s features and as he helps Roman sit up in his bed, his hands shake.

“I’m so sorry I woke you. It was but a dream, nothing harmful to us in the present.” His words rang true at least partially. No one can speak for the future.

“Bullshit Ro. I’m surprised the entire inn isn’t awake from the screaming. It was worse than the wail of a banshee.” he sits on the bed, fidgeting with the bedspread in an obvious show of restlessness. “It wasn’t a good thing to wake up to. It sounded like you were dying.”

Roman’s features softened, hand going up to Virgil’s shoulder in a sign of comfort. “I can assure you, I am quite alright, my Shadow. It was but a startling dream.” Which again, partially true on Roman’s part. He couldn’t bring himself to recount the dream to Virgil. The shadowling had enough trouble sleeping without any unnatural dreams. Besides, looking at Virgil, scanning his neck for any bruising and seeing none, he slowly realized he had nothing to fear. Everything was going to be okay. His shadowling was alright and so was he. Roman let his hand fall off of the other man’s shoulder, resting it atop his hand instead.

“Ro are you sure? You looked like you’d seen a ghost. Or worse.” He kept a grip on the palm of Roman’s hand, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh.

“I’m sure. It was just a strange dream. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry for rousing you from sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” The room was still dark and the sun had not yet risen. “Need me to play for you?”

Virgil gave a small chuckle, a smile across his face. “No need to worry about me, just get some sleep” his voice was like velvet, soft and gentle. It washed over Roman until the fear had gone and a wave of sleep fell over him. The dream loomed ominously over his head but at the moment, sleep was winning.

“Goodnight, V.” he murmured, clinging to the blankets with one hand, Virgil with the other.

The other man smiled, “Sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

The last thought Roman had before lady sleep dragged him away was of the smooth circular movement Virgil was rubbing his palm.

Patton

Strength does not come from physical capacity.

It comes from an indomitable will.

-Mahatma Gandhi

Patton rose with the morning sun, his eyes sliding open on instinct, as if he somehow knew a new day had arrived. Putting great effort in keeping his motions soft, he stood and stretched. Soft cracking noises could be heard throughout his body, weathered with age. It was the marks of battle making early appearances in his still youthful form.

His arms moved instinctively towards the tarnished breastplate laying neatly on top of his pack, almost urging him forward with the warmth it gave off in the otherwise cool and dark room. Picking up the piece, Patton made quick work of the worn leather straps and pins that kept his armor in place. The moment the last strap was secure against his body, heat poured off of him. It was a type of light his armor held from the day he first strapped the pieces onto his person. He never knew why it glowed and he dare not ask in his prayers, lest it be taken. After all, who is he to question the gods who so generously blessed him everyday?

The life of a paladin wasn’t ideal for most, but for Patton, it was the only suitable way to live. From a young age, the ideas of the gods had been drilled into his brain, and of how the forests and sun that blessed his town were all gifts from them. It was taught to never take those gifts lightly. . He had trained for years in an attempt to pay the gods back and the first day he strapped on his armor, he knew with the glow that every hard quest or difficult night he had worked paid off. The gods had shrouded him in golden light as thanks. Or at least that’s what he believed.

Now fully protected in his armor, Patton moved to the window and knelt, head hanging with eyes closed. Silently, he reflected on the day to come and thanked his gods for allowing the day to exist in the first place. Warmth began to seep into his skin, heating his body in a pleasant, kind way and he smirked. Everytime he prayed he felt what could only be described as sunshine flood into his body, proof the gods were at least happy with him.

A quick glance towards Logan showed him still sleeping, albeit fitfully. His blanket had long since been discarded and the clothes he had worn to bed were rumpled. Clicking his tongue as he observed his sleeping partner. Patton grabbed the blanket, now strewn half on the bed and half on the floor, and threw it over Logan. Satisfied with the room and himself, he stepped out into the hallway and started for the stairs, his armor clinking as he walked.

The inn was quiet, not a single person awake besides the bartender and himself. It was a strange sight witnessing a bar in dead silence and yet it was one he was familiar with. As long as he could remember, Patton was asleep before the moon and rises high into the night sky and was awake with the morning sun. The smell of eggs and sausages wafted into the air and he moved towards the counter, taking a seat and holding up a single finger, silently requesting a plate.

It arrives sooner than he expected, a metal pan heaping with eggs, potatoes and sausage along with a large glass of water. He gives a nod in thanks, a small, cheerful smile spreading on his face before he begins to scarf down the breakfast, burning his tongue as it slides down his throat. The food warms the inside of his stomach and he smiles at the feeling.

“Up quite early aren’t ya? I normally don’t see people down here till half past six.” A loud yet gentle voice brings him away from the still silence of the morning and Patton jerks his head up to stare the man in the face. The bartender’s eyebrow raises and Patton follows the curve of his brow up his forehead.

Patton paid no mind to the bartender, just shrugging to the comment and returning to his breakfast, When he was done he slid from the high stool and walked towards the exit, towards the quest board to see if any new ones appeared. None were displayed much to his disappointment and frustration, so he pulled the papers he collected from it the night before out of his pocket, unfolding their worn creases and reading their requests.

In every town, no matter what the quest, Patton always gave it at least an attempt. Not only did it allow him to serve the people of the town, it gave Logan time to rest as he rarely went on the quests with him without a reward or some danger. Fine by him, he was there for the adventure.

They weren’t anything exciting, mostly recovery of artifacts or cave exploration but he took what he could.These would at the least intrigue Logan who would see it as an easy exercise for this newfound team they had become a part of.

Upon closer inspection, the quests seemed to line up after one another, something no one noticed. Not even Logan. Patton moved to the floor, leaning against the wooden legs of the board for support as he spread the papers out in front of them. He couldn’t determine the order but he knew that they connected.

A heavy sigh caught his attention, he looked up to identify who it had come from to see a figure kneeling in front of him. The person was cloaked, the black of it seeming like a piece of the world was missing in front of his very eyes. Not even the light he had been gifted from the gods could penetrate the darkness in front of him. A nest of bonerats began their tumble through his stomach and he couldn’t shake his feeling of unease. Their face wasn’t visible, covered by a deep hood and from what he could tell, a half-mask across the person’s face. Patton stared down the figure, a hand instinctively moving towards the sword at his side.

“I see you are thinking of taking up on those quests.” The voice was deep, a light echo following after the sentence. It felt like the world around them shut off. The wind ceased to gust, the trees no longer made a noise, the sounds that came with the morning had ceased to exist. He looked around and saw nothing out of place, as if time had stopped. Serious magic was at work here and Patton stared back at the man with a small smile, deciding to keep talking and avoid a conflict until there was no other choice

“Uh.. yes. Me and the rest of my party are doing this as an easy exercise.” That sentence earned a hearty laugh from the person in front of him, laughing as if they were old friends sharing a joke.. “Easy. That must have been the funniest thing I have heard in years. Oh traveler, these quests are nothing to take lightly.” His fingers traced the papers as he spoke, stroking them fondly like you would a lover. Patton shifted where he sat, not able to look at the figure without feeling as if he were about to lose consciousness.

“They’re nothing but puzzles and caverns. I see no difficulty in these quests.” Patton’s features hardened and he stared down the hooded figure who merely snorted.

“These caverns are design to drive you to insanity should you take one step out of line. Even now, miles above the surface they plague members of your team and this town.” Patton opened his mouth to speak only to find silence, no words came from his mouth. The hooded man, at least he was sure it was a man, continued on. “You have to work together, to never part. It is all or none of you. There will be tragedies and falls, but you mustn’t let those stop you from adventuring into the caverns.”

Patton looked down at the papers to see them in a new order. Magically, they had shifted to the correct placement, each quest trailing into the next. The more he stared, the less they looked like individual pieces. He picked up the papers to see they had combined as one. Between his fingers were a crude map. The first one didn’t have a way to get into the cave, no way of getting in to start their journey. “How do we get in? How do I make sure we stay together? To make everyone get along?” Like firing arrows, the questions shot out of his mouth and he was grateful he could once again speak.

“You simply wait for the fall of course. It shall come before the days end. Unfortunately it is impossible to keep your team together in the dark. They’ll have to want allies in order for your team to not wither away at the edges.” He must’ve seen the confusion in Patton’s eyes for he continued, “Patience, dear Patton. You will find out in time it is more difficult underneath the surface.”

As Patton was about to ask what the last sentence meant, the figure stood and dusted off his clothes, the darkness rippling as his hands ghosted over the fabric.”Unfortunately, we are out of time. I can only be on this plane for so long before things get finicky although I’m sure you’ve noticed that.” A pocket watch appeared in his hand and he spun it, the hand moving faster than a hummingbird or an arrow. Just when he thought he would be sick staring at the whirling hand, it disappeared with a loud crack and with it, the man.

A weight came off Patton’s chest and he took large swallows of air, head moving around to see where he had gone.

The earth seemed to move again, slowly but surely it came back to life. It was no longer quiet. The wind began to blow again, almost knocking the paper out of his hand. The trees began to shake and the leaves fluttered in the breeze. Animals began shifting in the shadows of the forest on the outskirts of town. From the bar behind him he could hear the clattering of pots and pans. What just happened?

It was jostling, the sudden noise. It was never quiet for him, ever. When the man appeared it was as if time had stopped and nothing could move but them. Suddenly even the softest, ambient noises were too much for him.

“Patton!” A voice yelled, causing the one in question to flinch back in surprise, throwing his weight back into his hands. There they stood, the other members of his party. Each one wore concerned and worried looks on their faces. Logan was the closest to him, arms crossed. “Patton, are you alright?”

“I- I- uh…” He looked at the papers again, hands trembling. “Um…” He didn’t know what to say. How do you explain what he had just seen? “How’d you three know to find me, it’s barely dawn.” he musters out instead, distracting them if only for a moment.

The three moved forward till they stood around him in a neat semi-circle. “We were all walking out of our rooms to the quest board, we were hoping to find a better suited quest. Patton,” Logan’s voice is soothing on his thudding head, “what happened?” Logan had bent down, now face to face with Patton.

“It was a man, a creature. He gave me this, told me this was the quest we must begin.” He started, holding the crude map out for the three to see.

Logan took the map from his hands, passing it to Virgil before hauling Patton up by the arms. Patton yelped as he was moved before he stood and Logan was holding onto his shoulders, rubbing them in comfort for a moment before gripping them tight, pulling him so they were an elbow length apart.

“Tell me everything” He said, demanding and authoritative, the voice Logan typically reserved for battle. The lines of his face had become hardened, concern evident in his eyes. Patton took a deep breath and began retelling the story. It took only mere moments to explain what was going on but by the end each person looked concerned, fear underlying their entire conversation.

“...and then he pulled out a pocket watch, spun it and he disappeared. It was almost as if...” he trails off. Patton knows what he thinks and that is that. But he’s almost always wrong, especially when magic is considered. It’s impossible. No wizard has that power. Virgil moves suddenly, his face once appalled now questioning.

“You were frozen in time.” he looks down at the ground, holding something in his fist.

“Uhm...yes that’s what I was wondering. But isn’t it-”

“Impossible.” Logan finishes for him, looking sharply at both men. “No mage has that sort of power, time is a finicky subject that only the oracles can control. There hasn’t been an oracle capable of stopping time in millenia if even that.”

“It’s not impossible, just hasn’t been heard of in some time.” Virgil was tense, ridgid. He opened his fist, revealing a small medallion in his palm, raising it in an offering to Patton. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Patton takes the medallion, turning it over several times in his hand. It’s heavy for its size yet still relatively thin, almost as if it’s a coin. On what he would assume is the front of the “coin” is the pocket watch, impeccably detailed onto the metal. Upon closer inspection, the clock seems to move with each passing second, giving him the time. Fascinated, Patton flips the coin to the tail end, a small illustration of a hooded figure, shadows spilling from his hands staring back at him, the shadows swirling around on the coin. “That’s...it looks exactly like the watch I saw and minus the shadows, that’s the figure I saw.” He holds the coin back out to Virgil, slipping it back into his waiting palm. “Who is that?”

“That is the symbol of Skotos Sythos, patron God of assassins.”

#sanders sides fics #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: arguing #ts-storytime #2018 submission #Hannah's shitty writing #TS-Storytime 2018 Submission

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tojohq · 6 years

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Yakuza 6: The Song of Life Review

The end of Kiryu’s story. As ominous as it sounds, that’s one of the biggest selling points of Yakuza 6: The Song of Life. The character that has been leading the series since its very first game finally has an ending chapter to its saga. As an old-time fan, that made me worried and intrigued: How do they plan to end its story? What’s the series going to do moving forward? And, more importantly, how does the game compares to its predecessors, with all the changes made to its engine?

The following review aims to be as spoiler-free as possible, but be advised some spoilers may occur for previous games of the series, like Yakuza 5. Read at your own discretion.

Kiryu Kazuma, the series’ main character, spent several years in prison following the events of Yakuza 5. He is released only to find out that Haruka is in a coma after having been hit by a car. She also had a kid, Haruto, who is at risk of being taken to an orphanage. Kiryu must fight for and maintain custody of Haruto, while investigating the strange mysteries surrounding Haruka’s accident. The stage is set as we initially enter Kamurocho once again, and after he begins his investigation, the trail leads to Onomichi: a peaceful town that is more than it seems.

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The new Dragon Engine was introduced in Yakuza 6, bringing several innovations to the series. For starters, the graphics got a revamp compared to the older engine (used from Yakuza 5 to Yakuza Kiwami), being the first game developed exclusively to PS4. The level of detail in textures, character models, and the world itself, is outstanding. A common complaint about Yakuza 6 is the presence of screen tearing on the game, but I must say I wasn’t able to notice said issue. It’s worth noting that the game runs at 30fps, compared to 60fps on Yakuza Zero and Kiwami. New physics were added, both to the open world exploration and the battles. Exploration-wise, Kiryu can now jump over things, climb stairs, and even fall down from certain buildings. The inventory has also changed. You don’t need to send items to a hideout-like place, like in previous games. Your inventory can store as many items as you like; however, you can only hold 5 of each health/heat restore items, or 10 of each food/beverage items.

Things have changed - the year is 2016 and even Kiryu has a smartphone now, which acts as the game’s menu. Through it, you can find your current tasks and missions; access your inventory; check your stats and mail; check your completion list; change settings; and even take photos or selfies.

With the new graphics engine, Kamurocho has been completely reworked. We have new explorable areas, like Millenium Tower’s rooftop gardens and the Kamuro Theater. We can enter and explore several random buildings, making the city more alive than ever before. We have the same number of taxi stops as before, but more destinations as a whole. It’s worth it to note that certain portions of the map have completely changed. Little Asia is a primary example, and some underwent… peculiar changes, like Pink Street, which is in a diagonal orientation now. However, not everything is good news: some explorable areas that have been around since the first game have been removed, like the Champion District and the Kamurocho Hills/West Park area. We also have fewer stores than before (Kotoburi Drugs, for example, is gone).

Onomichi is considerably smaller when compared to Kamurocho, and has less shops, restaurants and entertainment spots. This more accurately reflects the cities’ real-life counterparts. It’s a port town based on a Hiroshima city that goes by the same name. Here you can access the spearfishing and baseball mini-games, as well as the Snackbar Gaudi. Snack bars are, on that note, popular places on Onomichi to hang out, considering the city doesn’t have Cabaret Clubs. You can also find a few restaurantes, a temple, and a pawn shop.

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We have quite a few new minigames compared to previous games, like the Live Chat, which - more than just being sexy - manages to be funny and quirky due to Kiryu’s reactions; full ports of SEGA games, like VF5FS and Puyo Puyo; and classic arcade games from the 80s, like Space Harrier.

The RAAP Gym features a series of minigames where the player should press the buttons accordingly to make Kazuma exercise. After a session, the trainer recommends a dish you should eat, which impacts the evaluation you receive. Before you attempt to train again, you need to engage in a random encounter in the city.

There’s also a baseball team management minigame. You can recruit new members through substories or around the city and train them. On a match, you can manage your players and sometimes control the hitter. It’s a bit confusing, and, honestly, I didn’t manage to find it too enjoyable.

The Gaudi Snack Bar - unlocked during the baseball team quest line - is actually one of the most fun addictions to Yakuza 6, mini-game wise. For it, Kiryu is invited to a small and familiar bar in Onomichi. In the minigame, you speak with NPCs about their problems, enjoy a few drinks with them, and can even play darts or sing Karaoke. All these things help you develop your friendship with them. Each NPC has its own story, and each one of them is enjoyable, and some of them are tough nuts to crack - you will will need to be persistent with these. I’ve gotten so invested in this specific portion of the game I started to think about the NPCs as close friends of Kiryu, and it made me like Onomichi itself a lot more, since some of these characters are shop owners. It’s a simple yet great addition that gave even more life to the city.

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The Clan Creator is another minigame first introduced in Yakuza 6. It involves recruiting NPCs to your very own Kiryu Clan and using them in battles - but Kazuma himself doesn’t fight, he just commands them like in a strategy game. You can set your hierarchy: Captain, Lieutenants and so on. There’s also an online mode available, where you can fight other player’s Clans. You can, also, add new members to your Clan by entering codes, made available at several different places and through the Yakuza Experience website.

Another feature is the opportunity to help a Cat Cafe that… happens to have no cats, since its owner doesn’t do well with the animals and they all ran away. It’s up to Kazuma to find new cats in Kamurocho or Onomichi for the shop by giving them food and earning their trust. After you max out the trust gauge of a cat, someone will go get the felline, which you can always see in the Cafe from then on.

The spearfishing minigame is basically a shooter with a fishing theme. You can earn money from the fishes you catch, and there’s a spearfishing level: the higher your level, the higher your HP in this minigame. You have different spears to choose from and three different areas to fish in - both selections make an impact on the mini-game difficulty.

Some classic mini-games have been removed, like bowling, pool, UFO catchers, and gambling. Changes have been made to Karaoke and its song list: they are all new this time around. The batting cage minigame has also changed slightly. The Cabaret Club minigame has also been reworked, with a new card-based system that has made it more enjoyable.

Yakuza 6 has 52 substories in total, from which a considerable amount is tied to mini-games like the Snack Bar Gaudi, the Clan Creator, and the Baseball team. We also have 40 different Trouble Missions. Trouble missions are picked through the app ‘Troublr’ on Kiryu’s phone. They usually require the player to battle against an enemy or a group of enemies who’s causing - as the name implies - trouble in Kamurocho or Onomichi. Trouble Missions usually spawn nearby you, are time restricted, generally under 5 minutes, and are considered failed if you engage in another event (like a cutscene or a minigame).

The soundtrack and effects of the game are once again memorable. Differently from previous games, there’s no opening theme this time. On the other hand... some of the songs really stand out, like Joon-gi Han’s theme, several battle themes, and some of the karaoke songs (prime examples would be ‘Hands’ and ‘Today is a Diamond’).

With the new graphical engine and physics also came a new combat system. The very core of it - characteristic to the series - remains the same: fight, do combos, use heat actions. However, the changes run deeper. It was reworked from the ground, with completely new combos, actions and Heat Actions. Unfortunately, Heat Actions are one of the biggest flaws of Yakuza 6 in that there are very few of them. That said, the new physics also make the combat both hilarious and satisfying at times: it’s not rare to see objects being destroyed simply by running through them, or enemies being thrown far from you by doing a combo finished with a kick.

In Yakuza 6 - once again - we see a new leveling system. We have five different experience points: Strength, Agility, Spirit, Technique and Charm. Different activities award different amounts and different kinds of experience. For example, you will get more Strength and Agility by fighting than by doing entertainment activities. You can spend experience points on basic stats (Health, Attack, Defense, Evasion, and Heat Gauge), battle skills, heat actions, and other skills.

We also have an in-depth buff system this time, like increased experience gain, increased money drops, increased stats, and so on. They can be achieved through different means (such as temple blessings, statue offerings, food buffs, and machine drinks) and last a set amount of time or battles.

What was played:

A full playthrough of the main story, 40 substories, and all minigames at least once. Around 60 hours of game time.

Pros:

Graphics are gorgeous and detailed

Great OST

The cities seem alive and as detailed as ever

Several new minigame addictions are fun and rewarding

Good story with likeable characters - both on the substories and the main plot

Cons:

Certain classic mini-games were removed

Areas that have been accessible in Kamurocho since the first game, like the Champion District and the West Park/Kamurocho Hills area are off limits now

Combat seems simplified compared to Zero/Kiwami: less combos, less heat actions

No system to craft weapons, or even to carry then

Verdict: A fitting end to Kiryu’s story, with great graphics, OST, and side content, but not without a few hiccups. Fewer heat actions and the removal of certain minigames detract from it, when compared to previous games of the series.

Score: 8.5/10

Disclaimer: Reviewed on a standard PS4 model using a review code provided by the publisher.

#Yakuza 6 #Yakuza #SEGA #ryu ga gotoku

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benbarnesescape · 7 years

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The Wager

Part 2

Story Synopsis: When wager against Logan that you can’t fall for his seducing antics you realize you may have wagered for more than you can handle

Warning: Language, hints at SMUT but mostly fluff. 18+ sorry kids - it's Logan

A/N: I’ve gotten a lot of requests to continue this series so here it is. The first part (you can read here) of this was shit writing so here is a part 2. Better writing to make up for the initial crap.

Ben has me all kinds of fucked up so all the Logan feels today.

“No?” his right hand raises to softly caress your neck, his touch sending an instant shiver down your spine. “You’re body is telling me otherwise. Besides, don’t you want to know what you won?”

“No - I can only imagine what you have in mind for me.” You roll your eyes as you push away from him, adjusting your dress. Ignoring the throbbing between your legs. Ignoring the fact that Logan was handing you a silver platter to be yours for a night and you were ignorantly trying to push it away. Logan chuckles as he watches you, shaking his head.

“That's not fair. Give me the benefit of the doubt.”

You turn and give him a skeptical look and he raises his hands.

“Meet me at my place tomorrow morning. Eight a.m.”

“...you get whatever you want for 24 hours.” you mumble and he nods, finishing his drink. The smile still stuck on his face.

“I know. I’m opting to start my 24 hours tomorrow morning at 8.”

You chew your lip, debating all the ways this is going to go south.

“Fine. Tomorrow at 8 at your place.”

“Perfect!” he smiles at you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving the room. You take a long swig of the brandy in your glass, trying to ignore the lingering scent of his cologne before grabbing your phone and sending a group text to your two closest friends.

You: Ladies, I think I just made a deal with the devil

You wait a beat, organizing the room before you feel your phone buzz.

Leslie: What do you mean?

You: Logan and I made a wager

Jesse: …...you bet against Logan. Y/N how many times do we have to warn you - he’s trouble.

Leslie: I mean, if you ARE going to make poor choices what's so wrong with making them with trouble

Jesse: Leslie!

Leslie: It's true! What you wager Y/N

You sit down behind the desk, still nursing the glass of brandy as you type out your next response

You: That I wouldn’t succumb to his will

Silence. You could imagine them both laughing, shaking their head at you. At your naive, stubborn pigheaded attitude that always got you in trouble.

Leslie: Y/N….you know Logan is like one of the sexiest businessmen in THE WORLD. Not New York. Not America. That motherfucker is internationally sexy. Of course he can make you submit to his will. Not to mention his job is to get people to invest in his company.

Leslie: Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… well played

Leslie: I’m only jealous I didn’t think of it myself

You: I didn’t plan this!!!!!!

Leslie: *Insert Eye Roll* Suuuuuuuurrreee

Jesse: …...do you have to sleep with him now? Is that what you wagered?

Leslie: OMG please say that's it! Jesse and I have both thrown ourselves on him and he always shuts us down….one of the three of us needs to be able to tell the tale.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Of course they had.

You: I just have to spend time doing whatever he wants for the next 24 hours

You: At first I thought that meant he wanted to sleep together

You: But he wants to meet at 8 am tomorrow morning soooooo… idk lol

You bite your lip, taking another sip. You could always read Logan and what was spinning behind that witty mind of his. Minus how he felt about you, he was a pretty open book. You couldn’t read him on this and you didn’t like that.

Jesse: ….just go with it. Text us if you need anything. Its Logan. He respects you, you know. I’m sure it’ll just be you two hanging out like you always do

Leslie: hanging out and fucking. He totally has a thing for you Y/N

You snorted shaking your head, before you heard a light knock on the door followed by your name. You sighed. You had completely forgotten about work.

You: I’ll call you both after work. Les, you’re delusional. Logan has only expressed interest in being my friend.

You stand up, smoothing out your dress before one last text shoots through.

Leslie: But has he? Think about it.

You sighed. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

Delos Towers were two prominent buildings in downtown Manhattan. The first, the larger of the two, were where all the magic happened. Businessmen constantly flew in and out the large glass doors. It housed multiple offices, including Logan’s and his families, a gym, a five star restaurant a spa and other side businesses it had swallowed it its quest for power.

The second tower was a block away and exclusively condos and apartments for the wealthy. Though not as tall as its sibling, it still towered over its neighboring buildings, demanding strength and elegance.

Both buildings reminded you of Logan as you stood outside the latter, looking up at the large building in awe and fear. You’ve been at Logan’s plenty of times - he had the best sound of the art sound system paired with the sleekest TV screen and you loved to binge watch Netflix on his couch while he worked beside you. You liked using his rooftop pool. You liked cooking in his kitchen. You liked hosting game nights with both of your close friends. Spending time with Logan had become second nature to you. You hadn’t realized how much so until now.

You had offered to have him over to your home, to host things in your territory but he was strongly and consistently against it. In fact, he was constantly trying to pressure you to move into one of the apartments in the building - free of charge - and you always turned it down. You liked your 800 sq. ft. apartment in Brooklyn - it had character. And probably mold and a thousand other things but those were the things that gave it life.

Perhaps waging against him was a mistake. You didn’t want to lose your friendship. You didn’t want to complicate it with sex knowing he would never commit. You liked spending time with Logan. You were sure he liked spending time with you.

“What are you doing out here standing in the cold silly?” you hear his voice over the loud sounds of traffic and snap your eyes away from the tall building, finding his own as he walks toward you. He was dressed in a casual black leather jacket, a dark grey button down shirt and jeans. It was the most casual you had ever seen him and for a second, you took back your hesitant thoughts. It was easy when he was dressed as a GQ model, looking at you with eyes that twinkled with amusement.

“Just waiting for you.” you smile and he wraps an arm around you, drawing you closer.

“Perfect. I can’t wait to start our 24 hours.” he smiles that smile that only promises trouble and you try to bite back the internal groan. You were definitely in over your head.

Logan had been waiting in the lobby for you when you had walked by his building, looking up at the tall steel structure. He had been talking to his receptionists, finalizing plans for the night and had tripped over his words, something that was uncharacteristically unlike him. It was your outfit. You wore a black romper, the buttons around your breast unfastened exposing your cleavage. You had thrown on a casual leather jacket over it and the wedges you had paired with the get up made your legs longer.

Begging to have them wrapped around something. Him. As he fucked you against a wall in his apartment.

Fuck he had it bad.

The receptionist, who had never seen his client lose his composure, tries to mask the chuckle under his breath as he clears his throat, trying to catch Logan’s attention to finalize his last thought. It was a lost cost. Logan had lost interest the moment you had stepped into the picture and only nods yes, walking out toward you.

This was going to be a fun day.

He knows that you don’t trust him. Knows that you know all about him and the woman he seduces. Knows that he is dangerous and that you’re a good girl and that good girls shouldn’t play with bad boys. Doesn’t stop him from wrapping an arm around your waist, his free hand caressing your face.

He also knew you were probably just as dangerous as he was under your sweet natured demeanor. And he wanted to be the one to pull that dark side out of you, claiming you for his own.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” he asks, his fingers caressing your cheeks and you shake your head no, your eyes locked on him. He smiles, looking to the right to find his driver pulling up to the building.

“Perfect. I know just the place we can go to.”

He turns, ushering you into the car and you take a seat, watching him carefully as he sits beside you. The driver takes off and you frown.

“You’re not keeping me hostage in your apartment?”

He laughs, light and carefree and shakes his head.

“Later doll. Right now I have to make sure you’re properly fed.”

You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing.

“I don’t trust you Logan. You played dirty last night which got me into this mess in the first place.”

He tsks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Trust is the foundation of friendship. Why would I want to jeopardize that?”

His mouth is just too close to your ear, his breath tickling your earlobe. You try to ignore the way it makes you feel as you say,

“You already have! To win the stupid wager that has me in this mess. I wanted to spend my Saturday binge watching Marvel movies or enjoying a massage. Or eating brunch and getting drunk with Leslie and Jesse.”

Logan rolls his eyes.

“You wanted to drool over Captain America and his friends? The one with the wings and the metal arm. And you always hang out with Jesse and Leslie on Saturday. And I can always fit in a massage if you really want one.”

Of course he could. The car comes to a stop and you push him as the driver gets out to open your doors.

“Its Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson. I thought I trained you better to know this,” you take a moment to look out the window at the restaurant he has taken you too. “Where the hell did you kidnap me to Logan?”

He smiles, rubbing his hands together.

“Phase 1 of our wager.”

You walk into the posh restaurant, Logan’s hands entwining in your own and you look up at him confused. Though you both spent a good time together, and he allowed you to cuddle against him sometimes, he always kept a safe distance. You figured it was because of the men you dated. Perhaps he had been distancing himself.

Logan specialized in keeping everyone at arm's length and maintaining the upper hand.

You don’t have time to ask him as a round older man barges toward you, a robust smile planted on his face.

“Logan! Surprised to see you so soon.”

The thick, french accent isn’t lost on your ears as the man turns to you extending his hand out before asking,

“And who is this delicate flower that you have brought along with you today?”

You smile as you shake his hand and Logan whispers,

“This is one of my dearest friends, Y/N. Thought she’d enjoy a lesson today.”

Now you know there’s something wrong with him. He never once - once - had introduced you as his dearest friend. Just an acquaintance you hung around with, even if you both knew it was a lie.

“Bellisima! Follow me.”

The man turns and you look back at Logan who starts toward the path of the man. He’s stopped when you don’t budge from your spot, your hands still entwined within each other and he turns to you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“What's wrong?” he asks and you shake your head.

“You need to explain what’s going on here. You never reference me as your friend, let alone your dearest friend. You never touch me. I always have to beg you to cuddle with me. I don’t want to…..Logan I can’t do all of this today where you treat me like a queen and then tomorrow it's back to being a comfortable accessory that you only want to be around when its convenient for you.”

You tug your hand away and cross your arms.

“I’m already an emotional mess with Richard’s stupid ass. I can’t - I won’t allow myself to get pulled into your web of God knows what game you’re playing.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, watching you intently before walking back to you. He hesitates before placing his hands on his shoulders and whispering,

“Ever think I didn’t do any of those things because you were always dating someone. I know that I don't show my affection a lot but I want to do something special for you today. Let me surprise you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. And I don’t plan on keeping you at an arm's distance if you stay single. I just….listen, I know that those dumb idiots you date may not have bought up how much our friendship annoys them but I have to work with them every fucking day and trust me honey, they’re not a fan. I was doing what I thought was best for you.”

He sighs before continuing, “If you don’t like what we do right now, you’re free to leave and spend the rest of your Saturday doing what will make you happy.”

His eyes shadow something different now. Fear. Insecurity. You bite your lip, watching him before you allow a soft smile to tug at your lips.

Logan was trying to do something nice for you. He always did. You were allowing insecurities to ruin something that you knew he probably spent most of last night planning.

“Fine. That’s fair and you’re right, I guess I shouldn’t have put you in that situation. So I’ll trust you but I swear to the baby Jesus Logan if this is another manipulation ploy I’m outta here.”

He smiles, grabbing your hand again.

“I promise Y/N, it's not.”

You grab a handful of flour discreetly, waiting until Logan looks up at you before you throw it in his face, your laughter ringing in the large kitchen.

After you’re weird omission of fear, you had hesitantly followed Logan into the back of the restaurant only to find that he had scheduled you both for a specialized cooking lesson with a world renowned french chef, LeStat.

Of course he had. Couldn’t take a cute little cooking class that he could have found on Groupon for $50 bucks. It had to be the very best.

He looked at you now, the flour dousing his face, trying not to allow the smile to tug up at his lips.

“You ok there Lo? Looks like you have something on your face.”

Its then that LeStat walks by, mouth ready for your next steps before noticing the flour all over Logan and biting back a smile. He then smiles and says,

“We should put the pastries in the oven. It should take them an hour to bake.”

You nod, your laughter still echoing around the kitchen and Logan grabs the large pan, shaking his head.

“I’ll throw them in. We should probably clean our station since someone had to make a mess.”

Though he tries to keep a frustrated face, the amusement in his voice wins and you giggle, sticking your tongue out at him as he walks away. LeStat watches the interaction, his eyes brow raised before saying lowly,

“Are you and Logan dating?”

You had been wiping flour off the counter into a wet dish towel and freeze your movement, staring up at him. When your able to find your voice you mumble out,

“What? No…. no. Why?”

LeStat shrugs.

“I've known Logan most of his life and he never has bought another women to his weekly cooking lessons. Maybe his sister and mother occasionally but never a woman,” he smiles at you as Logan makes his way over, “you must be very special to him if he felt he could share this part of him with you.”

He turns, walking back to another section of the kitchen as Logan comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and wiping his face in your neck and shoulder.

“Stop it! What are you doing!?” you laugh and he bites down on your shoulder before pulling away.

“Cleaning my face since I have flour everywhere.”

Your laughter doesn’t subside as as you grab a towel, wetting it before stepping up to him to clean his face.

“I’m sorry...its just..you didn’t ever tell me you knew how to cook. I always cook for you when I’m over.”

Logan chuckles, leaning against the counter as he allows you to wipe along his jawline and you push away the thought of what it would feel like to kiss the sharp, stumbled skin .

“I don’t tell a lot of people that I know how to cook. Its my…..therapy.”

You look at him expectantly and he sighs, crossing his arms. You wanted to pry but you also knew that Logan was private - so private that it took two years into your friendship before he invited you over to his place. Let alone meet his friends.

You had yet to meet anyone in his family.

“...when I’m stressed out. Or my dad pisses me off. Its nice to cook and bake. I like having the control…..” he frowns, dropping his head and you stop wiping at his face.

“You don’t have to say any more Lo. I get it.”

Your voice is barely a whisper and you’re afraid you can be barely be heard over the movement in the kitchen but when Logan sinks his hands in your hips you know he has. He’s watching you, those dark chocolate eyes betraying something else again.

He draws you closer to him, his cologne overwhelming your senses as he licks at your lips, his eyes now gazing down your face, falling on your lips. You bite your lips and he groans, the pressure of his hands increasing against your soft skin.

You think he’s going to lean in and kiss you, god the tension between begs that he does. Instead, he just squeezes your hips one last time before whispering,

“We should probably finish our breakfast. I told you’d I’d treat you to brunch and we still have a lot to do this week.”

His voice is broken as he pushes you aside, running his hands through his hair before heading to the sink and washing them.

“What the hell was that about.” you mumble to yourself.

#ben barnes #logan westworld x reader #Logan westworld AU #benbarnesescape

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chroniclesofawkwardness · 4 years

Text

Hurricane

For years, I was a night owl. When I started my second stint with the company I work for today, I worked a 1:30 PM to 10 PM shift as one of many people answering the phone if you called the number on the back of your debit card. I didn’t much care for the constant what-happened-this-time beep in my ear that meant another call had come through, but some days were better than others.

I enjoyed helping customers as long as what they asked me to do was within my power, but there were times I didn’t feel like listening to strangers’ life stories or treating their self-inflicted financial wounds. My schedule wasn’t ideal because I had to work one weekend day. Having a day off during the week wasn’t without its advantages, but it also meant trouble might find me at an unexpected time or place.

The first time I saw Kathy, I thought she looked like life had taken a lot out of her from behind the counter of the Circle K, but she was easy to talk to. She was blonde, thin but not sickly, and wore shoes that suggested she was accustomed to being on her feet most of the time. I guessed she was in her mid-forties. She was a nice departure from a lot of the women I saw at work every day. Of course, I couldn’t know exactly what was going on in a given woman’s life just by looking at her any more than she could know what was going on in mine. Still, it was hard to appreciate an individual woman’s beauty when most of them I saw towered over me in their high heels, flaunted legs that kept going until next Tuesday, and looked like they had trained with a Bloodsport-era, badass Jean-Claude van Damme, not the one content with starring in Tostitos commercials breaking chips instead of bones, and taking your place in your circle of friends. Kathy was different.

Maybe we got along because we were both night owls. Maybe it was because we both found ourselves doing things we never imagined doing when our parents asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. Kathy told me she’d previously been a waitress at the Olive Garden. I told her how I was rebuilding my life and had had a literal pregnant pause between jobs once I’d come back from overseas.

Some nights, we’d talk long after she’d rang up my Combos and/or beef jerky. I’d offer general descriptions of the craziest recent customer interactions I’d experienced:

While working overtime one Saturday (a day I wasn’t even supposed to be there), I heard the beep of an incoming call in my ear, introduced myself, and offered to help, as was standard procedure. The guy on the other end of the line immediately started pulling his cheek back and forth. I could tell he’d moistened the inside of his cheek with spit (probably while listening to the preceding hold music) as an act of premeditation. His vagina song was broadcast directly into my ears and left no doubt he’d been watching too much porn and studying how to replicate the anatomical musical score with himself. Why he decided to share his concert with me, I’ll never know. Some things are best left unsaid.

When I asked Kathy what the strangest thing she’d ever sold someone was, she replied without hesitation: “I once had a guy come in here at three o’clock in the morning who bought condoms and bleach.”

I was left wondering why I’d even asked.

As much as I enjoyed conversations with Kathy, much briefer exchanges were the norm. The place was usually dead when I’d get there around 10:30 PM, but my arrival always seemed to trigger an avalanche of customers who urgently needed gas, cigarettes, or lottery tickets. I usually took the onslaught of humanity as my cue to exit stage right.

That’s how it went for us. That was our routine.

The first time I saw Ashley, she was telling Kathy about how much she missed. Kayla. Kathy introduced us and told me she used to work at the Olive Garden with Ashley. I was instantly glad I hadn’t earlier ridiculed the wardrobe of white shirts and solid, brightly-colored ties that waitstaff of the Olive Garden in required to wear, though I’d wanted to badly. Ashley talked about how she’d recently had an argument with her mother, whom she hated, and how her son’s father, then serving in the U.S. Navy aboard a ship somewhere off the coast of Greece, was an asshole.

I’m not sure if Ashley interpreted the fact that I asked her questions as a sign of genuine interest, or if I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. As luck would have it, this was not one those nights when we were interrupted by strangers seeking swizzle sticks. She went on and on about how she missed Kayla. I just kept nodding, unsure of what else to do. I could have left at any time, but I was overcome with curiosity, as if I’d passed a really bad car accident, one that when you see it, you instantly ask yourself if somebody died. You feel bad for staring, but you can’t look away.

This carnage involved conversation instead of cars.

After an eternity of my unanswered prayers to be interrupted by a customer, Ashley suggested I join her for a drink. It was a Friday night and I didn’t have to work the next day, so against my better judgement, I agreed to go with her. She must have had to use the bathroom before we left; once Ashley was out of earshot, Kathy leaned over the counter and told me to be careful because Ashley may have already been drunk, high, or both. When we finally got into her car and pulled away from Circle K, I caught a glimpse of Kathy through the window, motioning to me with her hands as if putting on a seatbelt, reminding to me to do the same. She was trying to keep me safe with (or from) a woman I’d known for all of three hours.

Our first stop was a sports bar called The Crown, merely feet away from Circle K. Ashley ordered a Blue Mojito. I don’t remember drinking anything, but I do remember her taking my tie off without really asking if she could, and putting it around her neck as she continued to drone on about Kayla, her bitch of a mother, and her son.

Next, we went to a bar called the Keystone Pub and Patio. It had to have been around 2 AM; chairs were already turned upside down on top of tables when we walked in. Ashley must have known the bartender, who poured us shots of something that looked like Fireball. I don’t remember either one of us paying for them.

We were supposed to go to Waffle House after this, but that’s when shit got really weird. Ashley drove us there, but we sat in the parking lot for what felt like forever. We never made it inside. At one point, she just lost it:

Her: ”I miss KAYYYYYYLLLLLLAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

Me: “Um…. I’m sorry for your loss. I can tell she meant a lot to you.

Her: “I wish I could just crawl down into her grave any lie beside HEEEEEERRRR!!!! Oh Gawd!!!”

Me: “Okay.”

Her: “Put your hand on my chest and feel me sing.”

Me: “Ashley, I don’t know if that’s such a good…”

Before I could finish my sentence, she grabbed one of my hands, placed it just above her breasts and held it there. The next song was I Believe You Liar by Australian singer/songwriter Washington. It started with a hauntingly beautiful piano intro, the kind that made me stop (despite the awkward position of my hand) and listen. The first verse is:

All the things you've said And things you've done I remember, in memoriam You said that you did But you did not Oh, you ache for something God knows what

I’d never heard the song before. Even now, I still can’t listen to it without thinking of that moment in Ashley’s car. The piano part still gives me goosebumps, the kind you get when a song truly captures your attention, the kind that form long before you’ve heard a song 500 times thanks to Top-40 radio, TV dramas, and being a resident of planet Earth. I haven’t heard I Believe You Liar anywhere near 500 times. I don’t want to. For some reason, I don’t want to spoil it despite the ridiculousness surrounding when I first heard it.

Once it became clear that we wouldn’t be going inside Waffle House, I was slightly pissed off. I was hungry, dammit. We'd been drinking, so the conditions were perfect; I’d heard most people only go there when they’re drunk anyway. But I wonder now if listening to Washington’s song wasn’t a better fit than intoxicated waffle consumption for what Ashley was going through. It’s easy for me to describe the absurdity of our encounter, but there may have been more to it. However demonstratively, Ashley was grieving, aching. for her friend who died unexpectedly. I just happened to meet her that night.

Ashley had been in my life for about eight hours when we pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex. The sky was starting to change color, signaling the beginning of a new day. I thought of a video game I used to play as a kid, Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest. One of the most annoying aspects of which is that you never knew when night was going to transition to day or vice versa.

If you were in a town when a transition to night happened, all the townspeople vanished, and you were faced with zombies that moved like rejects from Michael Jackson’s Thriller, plus bats you couldn’t even see coming because they blended in almost perfectly with the nighttime screen. When the lights went down in the city, you, Simon Belmont, the next in a long line of heroic vampire slayers, were reduced to jumping around whipping at shit in your 8-bit leotard while a soundtrack played that didn’t exactly inspire fear in, or of the undead.

Whether you were in town or out and about in the blocky wilderness, your only salvation from the darkness was another seemingly randomly timed pop-up box like this, which meant it was about to be daytime again:

I hated not knowing when day or night would come next. Even as a ten-year-old, the unpredictability made me nervous. You might say it was my first encounter with a pop-up ad, long before the modern incarnation those annoying little fuckers (or the option to skip ads) existed. This might be why I hate most ads to this day. Still, that night with Ashley, I actually prayed for the first time in my life that a Castlevania II pop-up would appear in the sky overhead, vanquish the horrible night, and send her back to wherever she’d come from.

Only that’s not what happened

II.

“Do you mind if I stay here tonight,” she asked.

“Not at all (this night couldn’t possibly get any weirder),” I said.

We went upstairs and went straight to bed. I couldn’t sleep, and my occasional attempts to kiss Ashley didn’t escalate into anything more. I just tossed and turned, unable to sleep thanks to the alcohol and the stranger in my bed. Ashley didn't have any such problems.

After hours of restlessness, I gave up trying to sleep and decided to go about my normal Saturday routine, beginning with doing laundry. I tiptoed around to avoid waking Ashley, but this didn’t stop me from checking on her every few minutes to make sure she was still breathing. After she'd spoken so agonizingly about missing Kayla, I seriously believed Ashley could kill herself right there in my bed without a second thought.

She finally woke up in the middle of the afternoon. We sat on the couch and talked about books and what we wanted to do with our lives. I agreed to let her borrow my copy of Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky, and she said she let me borrow her copy of The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom. Notes from the Underground was one of those books I was supposed to read in college but never did. I was looking forward to reading it on my own time, when a requirement wasn’t hanging over my head. I’d read one of Mitch Albom’s other books, Tuesdays with Morrie, which heart-wrenching though it was, had been a fast read. I thought I could get through The Five People You Meet in Heaven quickly, and reasonably expect Ashley to finish Notes from the Underground in about the same amount of time. I figured we’d meet up after reading, give each other their book back, and that would be the end of it.

That’s not what happened either.

First, we drove to her mom’s house so she could pick up The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Ashley decided she was hungry, so we stopped at Wendy’s on the way back to my place. Eating fast food was a rare experience for me (but the whole night before had also been). Until 2017, I had no idea Wendy’s had a vanilla Frosty on their menu, an item that had already been around for more than a decade by the time I caught on. I’d had other things on my mind.

We went back to my place to exchange books and phone numbers. Ashley finally left at around 6:30 PM, capping a whirlwind twenty hours. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, or why, but it did happen.

I finished The Five People You Meet in Heaven in about a week, and texted Ashley to let her know I was looking forward to giving her back her book. I got a brief response like, “Hey” and something about her work schedule being crazy. At first I didn’t mind having her book (and not having mine), but as time passed, it started to bother me. Not a lot gets on my nerves, but two things that do are owing people money and having something that doesn’t belong to me. Every time I’d see Ashley’s book on my shelf, I’d think: “Man... I really should get that back to her.” Then a more basic thought would creep into my brain: “I hope she hasn’t made good on her desire to crawl down into the grave with Kayla. Fuck... I hope she’s still alive.”

Over time, my texts and her replies became more and more infrequent. I’d joke with Kathy that I was reaching out to Ashley once every season, just to prove to myself that I was still trying to do the right thing by returning her book. As the months passed, I started to just want my damn book back, and to give her hers so I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

That’s how it went for me. That was my routine. Until the day she just showed up in my parking lot.

By September 2013, I’d found a job in fraud prevention. I jumped at the chance to learn something new without subjecting my ears to incoming vagina songs. I was still a night owl, but struggling to work at a pace that met the expectations of my new department. To help me acclimate, management had me do a few days of side-by-side training with a more experienced specialist. This meant I also got to temporarily change my schedule to a more traditional 9 AM to 6 PM.

For some reason, after working my temporary shift one day, I decided to walk through the rear parking lot of the complex instead of the front one. Then I saw her. She was in a car I didn’t recognize, but she was with two guys I did, from Circle K. The driver’s side door was open so she'd gotten a bit of a head start towards me before I realized what was happening. She ran into my arms and hugged me like I was someone she truly missed:

“Hiiiiiiiiiii!!!! I am SO sorry!!!!” She was practically squealing.

You’d have thought it had been only a week instead of nearly a year since I’d wished for the morning sun to vanquish that horrible night. All I could think was, “Finally! Here’s my chance to return her book and be done with this shit once and for all.” I’d aged almost 365 days since the last time I saw her, but Ashley must have thought I was elderly and feeble. She took me by the arm and helped me up the stairs and into my apartment. Once inside, she helped me take off my shoes and put on house slippers though I never asked her to.

“Ashley, what about your friends? Aren’t they still down there with the car running?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine. They’re just down there smoking weed...”

’WHAAAAAAAAAA!?!?!?’

I have absolutely no problem with recreational marijuana use, but I also knew that if the cops showed up (seeing law enforcement officers driving up and down my street was not uncommon) and started asking Cheech and Chong questions about why they were there and who they were with, I wasn’t going down with them. Even in their intentionally altered state of consciousness, I was convinced they could still identify me.

I case you’re wondering, Ashley left before I had a chance to bring up the books. I think I’d pissed her off by talking shit about her to one of my neighbors that night without realizing she was close enough to hear me. I should have whispered like Kathy had the year before when she was sure Ashley was out of earshot.

Still got it.

I never heard from Ashley again. I haven’t reread The Five People You Meet in Heaven, and the piano in I Believe You Liar still makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I’m okay with that. Why? Mitch’s book and Washington’s song make up the eye of Hurricane Ashley, a storm I won’t soon forget.

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ddrkirbyisq · 7 years

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Well, it could have been worse. I could have spent =more= than 2 hours thinking about the past instead of sleeping... ===== Yesterday was a really interesting day...I had a really hard time getting out of bed for some reason, and fell pretty soundly asleep during the morning train ride as well. After getting off the train the city was oddly quiet in a way that made me wonder whether there was some holiday going on that I was totally unaware of. I was feeling pretty cranky too, for some reason, imagining negative scenarios in my head, as one is prone to do when feeling grumpy. Maybe I just have some sleep to catch up on. Feedback has been coming in for our game, Raven Delivery Service, and people have been liking it! I'll try to do a post-mortem post about it, as well as just advertise it via posting in general so we can get some more plays. Aivi & surasshu are performing later this month at Fanime! What a pleasant announcement to hear -- it actually makes me quite excited to go. Steven Universe is also getting an official soundtrack release next month -- about time! More importantly, I overheard that their next original artist album has a name, "valk hollow"? That's actually more exciting than anything, as you know the main reason I'm a fan of aivisura is because of their debut album "The Black Box". I am not-so-secretly hoping that once they release their next album I will be able to do a full remix album of their works again, as I did with "Love Everlasting". That album was one of the most interesting and rewarding projects that I've undertaken as a musician and I'd love to try something like it again. Big dance is also coming up this Friday! Everyone should enter the dance contests, especially the ambi ones! Looking back at my records, here were the themes for those years, to help people remember: 2011 was Firefly 2012 was Star Wars 2013 was Last Airbender 2014 was Game of Thrones (2015 was a Little Big Dance) (2016 was a Little Big Dance) 2017 is Back to the Future (old-timers will remember some other ones, like pride and prejudance, etc) Remember, Little Big Dances do NOT count as all-nighters! (since they didn't last all night, of course) So this'll be my 7th Big Dance, but my 5th all-nighter. Hopefully it'll be fun, despite the fact that I've been shying away from people interactions lately. I was half-wondering whether I should take a page out of the past and try and compose a song real quick for big dance so that Richard could play it. But I don't think that will happen, hehe. Not ruling it out as a possibility though -- inspiration could strike at any moment! It would actually be pretty cool to start a tradition of writing a new dance song every year for Big Dance specifically. Maybe! Speaking of dance music, next month I'll be going to a ballet performance set to my Celestial Melodies album! Super interested to see how that will be, and never thought as I was writing it that my music would ever be used that way. This is also a good point for me to try to design some (long overdue) business cards. Hopefully I'll be able to use the All in a Day's Work 3 artwork, as that has become so iconic to me, but perhaps there are other options as well. I'll have to decide what urls to put on there as well -- probably ddrkirby.com and ddrkirbyisq.bandcamp.com for sure, but I should really clean up the ddrkirby.com landing page. I guess if I make a more proper landing page for ddrkirby.com I can just feature that, DDRKirby(ISQ), my name, and possibly a contact email (?) and have the landing page direct you to everything else. More work that needs to be done! Looks like a lot of designery work is in my near future... My birthday having passed now, I decided to go ahead and order a whole bunch of stuff online as I was in need/want of quite a lot of things here and there. Yesterday those shipments finally started to get to me, so I now have an anova sous vide machine, a whetstone for sharpening my knives, a jaccard meat tenderizer, a mortar & pestle, new earbuds, a car vent mount for my phone, and a zojirushi vaccuum-sealed food container. I also did a ton of grocery shopping last night, so I basically have a ton of new stuff to play around with and eat, whee! I'm pretty excited about all of the items, haha. The Risk of Rain devs are apparently working on RoR2, in 3D??? (using Unity, as of course is the trend for everyone and their mothers now) That's...cool, I guess? Of course, it's still a project early in development, so it's barely even worth thinking about when or whether they'll finish, but...I guess that's cool? It's not the most -exciting- thing because I don't think 3D is really necessary, or even a boon to the gameplay, but maybe they are just trying to take a page out of Overwatch and such games. It makes me a little sad for my pet project Zenith Fighter which I abandoned, which was aiming to be an arena-style game with platforming and RoR-style abilities, as well as a bunch of upgrades. Speaking of pet projects, Rhythm Quest is on very shaky footing now as I haven't touched it in so long. I don't think there's anything wrong with it, but the fact that I'm not regularly working on it is a red flag and I wonder whether it will actually become a thing, or whether it's not actually exciting anymore. We'll see I guess, but for now I am going to remind myself that the reasonable thing to do is not to worry about it because I have other projects that are more pressing -- namely, finishing up my Sentience album, designing the business cards and redoing my landing page. Speaking of my Sentience album -- it's getting close to being complete! I'll probably aim to do one or two more songs and then package it all up for release. Very exciting to be doing another original artist album that is getting a full physical CD release, especially since this one has such a strong theme and could be called my first ever "concept album", I guess. I've been continuing to make my way through Hyper Light Drifter, which has still been great! It's cool that, just like with Shovel Knight, I feel much more well-versed in the sort of "vernacular" of its level design, and am starting to really become familiar with where to look in order to find hidden areas and secrets. I'm currently in the last of the four main "areas" (at least, that I know of!), though the game has made it very clear that even when I've beaten the boss there I will have to do quite a bit more searching and exploring. ===== I told someone recently that while many people find themselves needing to let go of their past before they can move forward, I find myself unable to move forward if I feel like I am letting something go. I've been asked before just =why= the past is so important to me and there are many reasons -- I think loss is painful, letting go is painful, I'm strongly motivated by nostalgia and memory, I would much rather stick to what I know than embrace new experiences, I value lasting connections, I genuinely want to believe that things will last, etc. -- but in the end the answer basically is just that's the way that I am and I have learned that that is the way it has to be. After many years of questioning myself and my feelings toward the past I came to a realization that even if it "slows me down", connecting with my past is ultimately something that I just have to do, out of necessity. And if I try to avoid it and break free, I would only end up circling back again and not moving anywhere at all -- because "breaking free" is something I would never want in the first place. And that is the reason that I can be so sure when I tell people I will always be here. Always and forever. ...or at least, that's what I'd like to think. After all, the girl of the stars also chose to leave her tower. The story of the star and the girl is one that is incredibly important to me because represents a central conflict in life that I must always come to terms with. The fact that "always" is not forever, and that despite my feelings and intentions, in the end I must accept that I cannot bring the past forward with me, and that I =must= by the nature of life move forward. It pained me a great deal thinking about how the girl left the tower. It still does, and always will. But it's something that I need to understand too. I think in the end, sinking deep into memory, holding traditions, treasuring artifacts, and "living in the past" are all ways of coping. Who can say where the girl is now? But no matter where she is, the tower and the star will always be an important part of her. Maybe she will be able to come back to the tower someday. Maybe she will be able to see the star again someday too. But even if she does not, it will still be in her memory, as something precious and treasured. In the same way, my friend Kiki is someone who is always on my mind when I think of the past. My relationship with her, in many ways, represents my relationship with the past, and that is a reason why it has always held such significance to me.

=====

I actually feel significantly better today. Maybe all I needed was to feel like I am paying my respects to my memory...

(More to come later.)

#Blogger

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intergalactic-nimrod · 7 years

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Finished Breath of the Wild today (Spoiler Free)

First off, I’m not much of a gamer. Mum never let me get a console when I was a kid, so I never got to get into them. I always knew though that eventually when I would get a console it would be a Nintendo one. Nintendo is the root of video games as they are today, and their main line IP’s have always really resonated with me. So, I preordered a Switch launch day, fully aware it would have problems and a limited selection of launch games, but I wanted to support a game company that still sought to innovate with how people play games, rather than pushing an ultimately futile graphics barrier. There’s only so high of a resolution that the human eye can see, and no matter how realistic you try to make a game it simply will not hold up in time, whereas games with more artistic styles have much greater life spans.

My expectations for Breath of the Wild were sky high. Again, I’m not much of a gamer, especially because of my restrictive budget, but it just looked exciting and fun. I had watched playthroughs of the other Zelda games and loved the general world and culture of the series, and gained a huge appreciation of its history. I loved seeing Breath of the Wild trying to break away from conventions and both defy and redefine what a Zelda game could be. I thought it would make an excellent introduction for me into console gaming, and I just fell for the emotional tone of the trailers.

So here I am, having finished the game 13 days after its release, and I have to say, it was good, but it was NOT a 10/10 game. In fact it was great, it was ambitious, it was almost as perfect as I could’ve asked for it to be in a lot of parts, but this is not the end of the Zelda franchise, with no place for it to go from here.

I enjoyed my Zelda experience immensely. I found myself smiling and giggling throughout parts of it, and I find it hard to feel emotions these days through art and entertainment after being exposed to it my whole life. I felt pure and honest joy through most of it. The game play was always fun and clean, and there were few things I would change mechanically.

The flaws with the game come not out of its mechanics, but out of its philosophy, which paradoxically is also the thing that is so amazing about it. The world is open, it’s free, and you can easily get lost in it, but it’s a happy feeling of being lost. At the same time though, there is the story and general motion/pace to the game that flows nicely and can guide the player, or let them break away from it. The problem with this though, is that at times it can be too much... and I know this is where I may lose some, but after I had finished the story (exempting final boss), about 100 of the shrines, found all the memories, beat all the dungeons, and completed my map of Hyrule, I suddenly found myself bored. VERY bored.

The greatest experience of BotW is that Hyrule itself is a character. Each tower was a checkpoint, but also a step forward as it opened up more of the world to explore. When I first left the Great Plateau and went out into the world, it was wild, open freedom and discovery. As I went on, I would find shrines to serve as mini checkpoints, and that’s the brilliance of the game. You can get lost, but you only get lost exploring. As you open up the map, you see things you didn’t see before, and the shrines serve as stations to teleport you around and get you closer to interesting things. They help you fill out the spaces in the world, and whereas at first I was just a kid named Link, running about, I slowly found myself literally conquering Hyrule. I was going about, enthralled by the story, and mastering shrines, becoming stronger, and facing the wild. It’s an excellent formula: the confusion and wonder of stepping into the unknown, the curve and quest to survive and thrive, pulling the content and rising above its challenges, and then besting it, becoming its master as you teleport around, filling in the gaps of your understanding of the area.

But when all was said and done, I had conquered Hyrule, and suddenly there was nothing to do. The last shrines I missed were a drag to find tucked away amidst the huge map that I had already conquered at 97%, and that last 3% felt like it wouldn’t have been worth it without story to keep my trajectory going forward. There was one last thing really worth doing: Ganon, the biggest, baddest, overhanging quest and priority. I ended up looking up walkthroughs to find and get the last shrines, just because I wanted the final reward and to max myself out for the final challenge.

I thought about finding all the Koroks, but after my entire time playing the game I only found 171 out of NINE HUNDRED. Definitely not worth it. I tried maxing out my armors, but soon found that to be boring, as it was mostly just trying to tediously gather hard to get materials.

I had conquered Hyrule, gone over it a ton of times, and there just wasn’t enough tucked into every percent and square inch of the game to drive me to go beyond the story too much. In fact, that’s another criticism: I love the story for what’s there, but I wish there was more for such a larger game, OR I wish the game and world was smaller to balance out the actual scope of what the story does. It’s very simple, and though it is perfectly done for what is there, the world is too big and its spirit gets stretched thin.

Hyrule is enormous, and that becomes a problem when you start seeing the same towers and art styles and patterns everywhere. I started noticing how geometric a lot of the terrain was, and the imperfections of the world and graphics as I constantly went back over. The world, for as big and fun as it is begins to lose some of its face that it desperately needs its story for. Some things just look and feel too samey, like certain parts were just copy-pasted about. Eventually a lot of shrines were just combat trials to fill in the gaps and most Korok puzzles felt the same. I lost the drive to look around for secrets because I knew they were always going to be the same thing, whether it be a chest with rupees or some weapon I’ve seen a hundred times.

The only mechanical problem with the game was the now infamous glass weapons, which is a criticism I agree with- to a limited extent. I was constantly having new and powerful weapons being thrown at me as I went around, so having plentiful weapons helped to easily balance how quickly they broke, but the constant fear of a weapon I liked or was saving breaking or having to be tossed out of my limited inventory lingered over every battle, and I just wished they would have higher durability so I could experiment more and find a style or set of weapons that worked and made combat situations like a puzzle in themselves, with me having a versatile strategy which I could employ to fit the context of the battle. It makes the player become more skilled and trained with the combat system, but instead I found myself stocking up on high powered weapons and just wailing on enemies until they broke, just to bring out the next disposable weapon and continue the same. It didn’t completely not work, but it felt counter intuitive to the brilliant and challenging philosophy the game had set up about choice, but also choice with the limits of strategy and thinking. You COULD run into a battle stupidly and just go swinging wildly, but it would be more EFFECTIVE and BENEFICIAL to the player to go about things carefully and with thought. Unfortunately, the brittle weapons undermine this idea, and throw a spike into the squeaky clean design of the battle system.

My favorite thing about this game by far though, was its philosophy. In every piece of media, there is the concept and then the execution. Breath of the Wild is an excellent idea, with just a few missteps in execution that I’ve already mentioned that undermine its philosophy. However, don’t let that take away from how brilliant most of it is conceptually and doesn’t belittle the player. It perfectly understands what Zelda games were, what they should be, and did an extremely admiral job of nearly getting there. It’s a game that’s clearly designed and aware of what it wanted to be, unlike lots of other modern games. You could execute the most perfectly polished and well put together turd in history, but it’s still a turd. Breath of the Wild is quite the opposite, though its imperfections in execution are not nearly so horrible as could be eluded from such an absolute analogy.

The best thing that Breath of the Wild could have done is perfect its philosophy, and that much is very clear. The name of the title is The Legend of ZELDA. This is not a game about Link. Zelda is made the most complex and likeable character in this game, and your quest is to go out and remember her, to regain the past that was her, and restore her future. I wish Link were a little less stilted, as in a little more expressive (in cut scenes I mean), but the game clearly understands what Zelda was about in its first inception. Zelda is your ultimate quest, your ultimate goal. SHE is the legend and the core of the game, and so long as I was going after saving her, the game was amazing.

[Very mild spoilers from here on out, but nothing major at all. I’m still keeping things very vague] The final boss fight of the game was good, but almost underwhelming, and it made me wish Ganon had been somewhat of a character, rather than just a force. It would rhyme well with Zelda, as the calamity was the source of her pains and her need to fulfill her duty (and her inability to do so). Making Ganon an actual character again would’ve embodied this force into something more human and relateable, giving part of her struggles a face to identify with. The only face the calamity has is the threatening image of the corrupted Hyrule Castle, always in the distance, always looming. That in itself is very effective, but I still can’t help wishing for more story. Again, it was amazing for what was there, I just wish there was more.

I was also partly disappointed by the ending, partly because I wished it were still harder (and it would’ve been more satisfying if Ganon were a character/individual rather than just a beast), but also I wish the ending would do more than just... end. I’m probably flawed in that I do have a specific image of what I’d like the end of a Zelda game to be, but at that point I’m probably better of making a Zelda movie. For as much as the game redefined the Zelda series and took itself back to its roots while also moving forward, I wish the ending would’ve also moved their world forward. I’ve always hated the Zelda timeline, where every game is essentially a reboot or re imagining (often with some gimmick or circumstantial them). It would’ve been amazing to see a very satisfying ending where it breaks all final conventions, and takes the future of the franchise in a new direction as well. That wouldn’t have just been amazing, that would’ve been REVOLUTIONARY (for the series at least). It’s not all bad, in fact not bad at all, and in a sense it does fulfill my desire be leaving things off in an open way. It really felt like this was just the first installment of a new series, like there was more to come... and thus that brings me to a conclusion.

This is not the epitome of exactly what a Zelda game should be. It’s not PERFECT, and it’s not the Zelda game to end all Zelda games that I hoped it would be. Instead, BotW presents itself as something completely different: a new beginning. From here on out, I want Zelda to continue what this game has started, not just rebooting itself over and over, but expanding and fixing the flaws that lay in the small cracks of its perfect foundation. I think I ultimately found this game a little unsatisfying because the world began to look and feel the same throughout a lot of it. Also, it felt like too much of Hyrule was destroyed and disjointed. I’d like to see the next installment be a restored Hyrule, at its near full glory, but without erasing the ruins of the past. I want the history implied in BotW to still show, like destroyed town and places, but I want to see a more flourishing and characterized Hyrule rising out of its ashes.

The next installment could be made even better by doing just a few simple things. Ultimately, the world was made bigger than the game could comfortably sustain. It lost some of its streamlined nature and its fat began to spill out of its inappropriately fitting clothing (which it could’ve fixed by scaling up, and finding something to wear that was more flattering and appropriate to its larger form, though this is where I end this analogy), and by just making the game less of an open world, it could actually FEEL like more an open world, only one far more interesting. This game can’t afford to look generic like the environments of Minecraft, because in that game the player directly manipulates their world. Here, the players relationship with the world is just a little more restricted, and that’s fine and good and perfect, but that also means implementing more design, environment specific things, and unique areas of interest.

I don’t like numerical grading systems, but I highly recommend this game. It’s a real blast and worth picking up as soon as you can. Seriously, this is not one to miss. My consensus can be most closely comparable to an 8.5 or 9 out of 10 (closer to 8.5 though).

#nintendo #zelda #breath of the wild #botw #link #ganon #games #video games

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hermanwatts · 4 years

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Sensor Sweep: Kyrik, Earl Norem, Stormbringer RPG, Denny O’Neill

T.V. (RMWC Reviews): In 1973, Tsuburaya Productions released several shows as part of the company’s 10th anniversary. The first one to see release was Fireman (or Magma Man in some markets), which began airing on Nippon Television on January 7, 1973, running until July for 30 episodes.

Warfare (Aeoli Pera): The typical special forces trainee who passes selection has a higher rank (officers were far more likely to pass than enlisted), at least a bachelor’s degree, high general personality factor with extremely high conscientiousness, no children, and verbally tilted IQs averaging in the 120s. This study looks at Ranger school but it’s true across all special operations services in the Western world. Please note that, except for measuring the ability to do pullups, these exact predictors could be used to select head girls for graduate departments in the humanities and social sciences.

Fiction (Wasteland & Sky): Interested in superheroes? If you’re reading this post then there’s a good chance you do! But how much? Check out this new bundle of hero books compiled by immortal SF author Kevin J. Anderson. The offer is for a limited time, so don’t miss out! The description for the bundle is as follows: The Up, Up and Away Superheroes Bundle – Curated by Kevin J. Anderson: If reading is your kryptonite, I’ve put together a superpowered StoryBundle—thirteen books with marvelous heroes, supervillains, secret identities, mutant powers, and extraordinary gentlemen (and ladies).

Popular Culture (Legends of Men): Why do these guys virtue signal? They’re saying this type of thing to other readers of S&S and REH and the pulps. The entire readership obviously enjoys these genres with as much or as little diversity as they already have. Past works cannot be changed and what made them popular once is more likely to make them popular again than changing the nature of what they are. So do some readers feel the need to virtue signal to other readers?

Reading (DVS Press): How many times have you seen a movie and though, “Man, the book was so much better,” or had a friend who read the book say the same to you? I can definitely say that the cases where the movie is better than the book are far outweighed by the reverse – probably in the range of 20:1. In fact, the only writer whose work seems to function better on screen than on paper is Stephen King, and even then there are plenty of books in his exceptionally large canon that are much better than their cinema counterpart (anyone remember The Dark Tower? I hope not).

Science Fiction (John C. Wright): Sometimes in this life we see justice done. The Nebula Awards have just honored Gene Wolfe with a Grandmastership. The honor is overdue, and all lovers of literature should rejoice. Gene Wolfe is the Luis Borges of North America. He is the greatest living author writing in the English language today, and I do not confine that remark to genre authors. I mean he is better than any mainstream authors at their best, better in the very aspects of the craft in which they take most pride.

Culture War (Kairos): This is why they hate Japan. This the material manifestation for why they can’t handle the Beautiful and seek to degrade before they destroy; the humiliation is intended as much to assuage the abuser’s amygdala as it is to afflict the victim’s, a “No You, Christcuck!” retort as they rip the beautiful apart before finishing the job. The cruelty is part of the process by design. The shitlords–God bless you all–at /pol/ noticed that this applies to all of the cultural attacks.

Art (DMR Books): When Earl demobilized, he went into magazine illustration, mostly for the “Men’s Adventure” mags. Such magazines have also been called “men’s pulps” and “sweat mags”. Essentially, they were magazines that somewhat carried on from the actual pulps–which died out in the 1950s–but were printed on “slick” paper. A significant percentage of their readers were veterans of World War Two and Korea who were looking for manly stories featuring action and beautiful women.

Comic Books (Diversions of the Groovy Kind): As most of you know, Groove-ophiles, Denny O’Neil, one of the most influential writers of the Groovy Age passed away at the age of 81 on Friday, June 12. Much has been written about O’Neil during the past week, and that’s how it should be. During the 1970s, O’Neil changed the way we would think about Batman in particular and comics in general forever (in tandem, naturally, with artist Neal Adams, mostly, but also with a host of other artistic luminaries from Irv Novick to Mike Kaluta to Jack Kirby to Mike Grell).

Robert E. Howard (Don Herron): Something I didn’t know much about, was a bank robbery that had occurred in the little town of Cisco on December 23, 1927, over 80 years earlier. The so-called Santa Claus Bank Robbery was a story I had heard about, of course, but the Kris Kringle business had conjured up images of a gang comprised of members of Monty Python’s Flying Circus and the Bowery Boys. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

RPG (Black Gate): Chaosium’s Stormbringer! was a licensed product based on Michael Moorcock’s Elric of Melniboné secondary world fantasy series. The game engine used modified Basic Roleplaying mechanics; in particular, magic worked very differently in Stormbringer than in Runequest. Characters could come from a wide variety of backgrounds; power-gamers preferred certain back-grounds over others because there was no pretense of game balance between them.

Heinlein (Black Gate): It’s almost impossible to discuss Robert A. Heinlein’s The Pursuit of the Pankera: A Parallel Novel about Parallel Universes without revealing and thus spoiling the plot devices of it and its 1980 prequel/sequel, The Number of the Beast—. Heinlein, first Grand Master of the SFWA, for decades acclaimed as the Dean of sf, no longer pleases everyone. Some readers, especially academic critics, have denounced both books as grossly self-indulgent and even worthless. Others, like the brilliant Marxist professor H. Bruce Franklin (in his important 1980 study Robert A. Heinlein: America as Science Fiction) catch the feel of Beast: “a cotton-candy apocalypse — frothy, sweet, airy, mellow, light, festive, whimsical, insubstantial” (199).

Sword-and-Sorcery (Ken Lizzi): I’ve read a few of Gardner Fox’s Kothar books. So when I saw his name on the cover of Kyrik Fights the Demon World I didn’t hesitate to snatch up the book. No one will claim that Fox was a master stylist. Take this paragraph from page one of Demon World. And so Makonnon quested through spatial emptiness into lands that had known him, long and long ago. He sent his mind across unfathomable distances, seeking, hunting, searching for that which so infuriated him.

RPG (Cyborgs and Sorcerers): Vancian Freeform Magic. I know that sounds like a contradiction in terms. It isn’t. You’ll see. I love the idea of free-form spell systems because they allow for endless creativity, and for me, creative problem-solving is the biggest source of fun in RPGs. In practice though, people often come up with a few favorite spells they cast over and over. This system was designed to prevent that by continually varying the tools in the free-form spellcaster’s toolbox. It’s a noun-verb system like Ars Magicka, except the nouns and verbs are not skills you’re permanently trained in.

Tolkien (Tolkien and Fantasy): The details of Tolkien’s epistolary friendship with the US editor, writer and sculptor Sterling Lanier (1927-2007) are difficult to ascertain, and various accounts differ as to the chronology and extent of their correspondence. In 1973, Lanier wrote that “it began in 1951” and amounted to some “dozen or so letters we exchanged over the years.” In a 1974 fanzine profile of Lanier by Piers Anthony, it notes that Lanier had had “ten years of correspondence” with Tolkien. In 2016, a book dealer had for sale six letters from Tolkien to Lanier, plus one from Tolkien’s wife.

Science Fiction (M. Porcius): I enjoyed my recent look at the 1950 issue of Thrilling Wonder Stories with Leigh Brackett’s “The Dancing Girl of Ganymede” and Henry Kuttner’s “The Voice of the Lobster,” so, to take a break from my rereading of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, I propose spending some time reading more stories by Brackett and Kuttner from Thrilling Wonder (we might end up checking out some Thrilling Wonder contributions by Brackett’s husband, Edmond Hamilton, as well.)

RPG (Swords and Stitchery): I have used & abused B4 The Lost City adventure & its inhabitants for years now a venerable pulp module created by Tom Moldvay. “”The Lost City” (1982) was the first adventure written entirely for the second edition Dungeons & Dragons Basic Set (1981). No surprise, then, that it was written by the author of that set, Tom Moldvay. ” Today I’ve been thinking about specifically adapting this module as perhaps a starter to Astonishing Swordsmen & Sorcerers of Hyperborea second edition as an introductory module.

History (Outlook India): Tucked into Pakistan’s remote northwestern hills, along the border with Afghanistan, is a cluster of three villages whose residents are still trying to preserve their language and culture in the face of advancing modernity and religious conversion. The tribe, known as Kalash, is said to have descended from soldiers of the army of Alexander the Great who travelled this way in 324 BCE. However, many scholars deny the story even though it has not been established finally yet how these people, their language, dress, and their nature-worshipping culture—in marked contrast to the Islamic culture that surrounds them—evolved and survived through the centuries.

Fiction (Dark Worlds Quarterly): I used to use the words “Pulp-descended fiction” and it was the source of RAGE m a c h i n e Books. I wanted to capture that feeling that good Pulp writing gives you. What that really means is I grew up on authors who wrote during the Pulps and those who followed, they too influenced by those five decades of magazine publishing. The world has since moved on, with television and paperback novels, comic books (now called “graphic novels”). Despite this, Pulp remains with us. Not in the packaging but under the surface.

Sensor Sweep: Kyrik, Earl Norem, Stormbringer RPG, Denny O’Neill published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

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ciathyzareposts · 5 years

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The Mortgaging of Sierra Online

The Sierra Online of the 1980s and very early 1990s excelled at customer relations perhaps more than anything else. Through the tours of their offices (which they offered to anyone who cared to make the trip to rural Oakhurst, California), the newsletter they published (which always opened with a folksy editorial from their founder and leader Ken Williams), and their habit of grouping their games into well-delineated series with predictable content, they fostered a sense of loyalty and even community which other game makers, not least their arch-rivals over at LucasArts, couldn’t touch — this even though the actual games of LucasArts tended to be much better in design terms. Here we see some of the entrants in a Leisure Suit Larry lookalike contest sponsored by Sierra. (Yes, two of the contestants do seem suspiciously young to have played a series officially targeted at those 18 and older.) Sadly, community-building exercise like these would become increasingly rare as the 1990s wore on and Sierra took on a different, more impersonal air. This article will chronicle the beginning of those changes.

“The computer-game industry has become the interactive-entertainment industry.”

— Ken Williams, 1992

Another even-numbered year, another King’s Quest game. Such had been the guiding rhythm of life at Sierra Online since 1986, and 1992 was to be no exception. Why should it be? Each of the last several King’s Quest installments had sold better than the one before, as the series had cultivated a reputation as the premier showcase of bleeding-edge computer entertainment. Once again, then, Sierra was prepared to pull out all the stops for King’s Quest VI, prepared to push its development budget to $1 million and beyond.

This time around, however, there were some new and worrisome tensions. Roberta Williams, Sierra’s star designer, whose name was inseparable from that of King’s Quest itself in the minds of the public, was getting a little tired of playing the Queen of Daventry for the nation’s schoolchildren. She had another, entirely different game she wanted to make, a sequel to her 1989 mystery starring the 1920s girl detective Laura Bow. So, a compromise was reached. Roberta would do Laura Bow in… The Dagger of Amon Ra and King’s Quest VI simultaneously by taking a sort of “executive designer” role on both projects, turning over the nitty-gritty details to assistant designers.

Thus for the all-important King’s Quest VI, Sierra brought over Jane Jenson, who was fresh off the task of co-designing the rather delightful educational adventure EcoQuest: The Search for Cetus with Gano Haine. Roberta Williams described her working relationship with her new partner in a contemporary interview, striking a tone that was perhaps a bit more condescending than it really needed to be in light of Jenson’s previous experience, and that was oddly disparaging toward Sierra’s other designers to boot:

I took on a co-designer for a couple of reasons: I wanted to train Jane because I didn’t want Sierra to be dependent on me. Someone else needs to know how to do a “proper” adventure game. We’re all doing a good job from a technology standpoint, but not on design. In my opinion, the best way to learn it properly is side by side. Overall, it was a positive experience, and it was very good for the series because Jane brought in some new ideas. She learned a lot, too, and can take what she’s learned to help create her new games.

There’s something of a consensus among fans today that the result of this collaboration is the best overall King’s Quest of them all. This strikes me as a fair judgment. While it’s not a great adventure game by any means, King’s Quest VI: Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow isn’t an outright poor one either in terms of writing or design, and this is sufficient for it to clear the low bar of the previous games in the series. The plot is still reliant on fairy-tale clichés: a princess imprisoned in a tower, a prince who sets out to rescue her, a kingdom in turmoil around them. Yet the writing itself is more textured and coherent this time around, the implementation is far more complete (most conceivable actions yield custom messages of some sort in response), the puzzles are generally more reasonable, and it’s considerably more difficult than it was in the earlier games to wander into a walking-dead situation without knowing it. Evincing a spirit of mercy toward its players of a sort that Sierra wasn’t usually known for, it even has a branching point where you can choose from an easier or a harder pathway to the end of the game. And when you do get to the final scene, there are over a dozen possible variants of the ending movie, depending on the choices you’ve made along the way. Again, this degree of design ambition — as opposed to audiovisual ambition — was new to the series at the time.

The fans often credit this relative improvement completely to Jenson’s involvement. And this judgment as well, unkind though it is toward Roberta Williams, is not entirely unfounded, even if it should be tempered by the awareness that Jenson’s own later games for Sierra would all have significant design issues of their own. Many of the flaws that so constantly dogged Roberta’s games in particular were down to her insistence on working at a remove from the rest of the people making them. Her habit was to type up a design document on her computer at home, then give it to the development team with instructions to “call if you have any questions.” For all practical purposes, she had thus been working as an “executive designer” long before she officially took on that role with King’s Quest VI. This method of working tended to result in confusion and ultimately in far too much improvisation on the part of her teams. Combined with Sierra’s overarching disinterest in seeking substantive feedback from players during the development process, it was disastrous more often than not to the finished product. But when the time came for King’s Quest VI, Jane Jenson was able to alleviate at least some of the problems simply by being in the same room with the rest of the team every day. It may seem unbelievable that this alone was sufficient to deliver a King’s Quest that was so markedly better than any of the others — but, again, it just wasn’t a very high bar to clear.

For all that it represented a welcome uptick in terms of design, Sierra’s real priority for King’s Quest VI was, as always for the series, to make it look and sound better than any game before. They were especially proud of the opening movie, which they outsourced to a real Hollywood animation studio to create on cutting-edge graphics workstations. When it was delivered to Sierra’s offices, the ten-minute sequence filled a well-nigh incomprehensible 1.2 GB on disk. It would have to be cut down to two minutes and 6 MB for the floppy-disk-based release of the game. (It would grow again to six minutes and 60 MB for the later CD-ROM release.) A real showstopper in its day, it serves today to illustrate how Sierra’s ambitions to be a major media player were outrunning their aesthetic competencies; even the two-minute version manages to come off as muddled and overlong, poorly framed and poorly written. In its its time, though, it doubtless served its purpose as a graphics-and-sound showcase, as did the game that followed it.

My favorite part of the much-vaunted King’s Quest VI introductory movie are the sailors that accompany Prince Alexander on his quest to rescue Princess Cassima. All sailors look like pirates, right?

A more amusing example of the company’s media naiveté is the saga of the King’s Quest VI theme song. Sierra head Ken Williams, who like many gaming executives of the period relished any and all linkages between games and movies, came up with the idea of including a pop song in the game that could become a hit on the radio, a “Glory of Love” or “I Will Always Love You” for his industry. Sierra’s in-house music man Mark Seibert duly delivered a hook-less dirge of a “love theme” with the distressingly literal title of “Girl in the Tower,” then hired an ersatz Michael Bolton and Celine Dion to over-emote it wildly. Then, Sierra proceeded to carpet-bomb the nation’s radio stations with CD singles of the song, whilst including an eight-page pamphlet in every copy of the game with the phone numbers for all of the major radio stations and a plea to call in and request it. Enough of Sierra’s loyal young fans did so that many a program director called Ken in turn to complain about his supremely artificial “grass-roots” marketing strategy. His song was terrible, they told him (correctly), and sometimes issued vague legal threats regarding obscure Federal Communications Commission laws he was supposedly violating. Finally, Ken agreed to pull the pamphlet from future King’s Quest VI boxes and accept that he wasn’t going to become a music as well as games impresario. Good Taste 1, Sierra 0. Rather hilariously, he was still grousing about the whole episode years later: “In my opinion, the radio stations were the criminals for ignoring their customers, something I believe no business should ever do. Oh, well… the song was great.”

The girl in the tower. Pray she doesn’t start singing…

While King’s Quest VI didn’t spawn a hit single, it did become a massive hit in its own right by the more modest sales standards of the computer-games industry. In fact, it became the first computer game in history to be certified gold by the Software Publishers Association — 100,000 copies sold — before it had even shipped, thanks to a huge number of pre-orders. Released in mid-October of 1992, it was by far the hottest game in the industry that Christmas, with Sierra struggling just to keep up with demand. Estimates of its total sales vary widely, but it seems likely that it sold 300,000 copies in all at a minimum, and quite possibly as many as 500,000 copies.

But for all its immediate success, King’s Quest VI was a mildly frustrating project for Sierra in at least one way. Everyone there agreed that this game, more so than any of the others they had made before, was crying out for CD-ROM, but too few consumers had CD-ROM drives in their computers in 1992 to make it worthwhile to ship the game first in that format. So, it initially shipped on nine floppy disks instead. Once decompressed onto a player’s hard drive, it filled over 17 MB — this at a time when 40 MB was still a fairly typical hard-disk size even on brand-new computers. Sierra recommended that players delete the 6 MB opening movie from their hard disks after watching it a few times just to free up some space. With stopgap solutions like this in play, there was a developing sense that something had to give, and soon. Peter Spears, author of an official guide to the entire King’s Quest series, summed up the situation thusly:

King’s Quest VI represents a fin de siecle, the end of an era. It is a game that should have been — needed to be — first published on CD-ROM. For all of its strengths and gloss, it is ill-served being played from a hard drive. If only because of its prominence in the world of computer entertainment, King’s Quest VI is proof that the era of CD playing is upon us.

Why? It is because imagination has no limits, and current hardware does. There are other games proving this point today, but King’s Quest has always been the benchmark. It is the end of one era, and when it is released on CD near the beginning of next year, it should be the beginning of another. Kill your hard drives!

Sierra had been evangelizing for CD-ROM for some time by this point, just as they earlier had for the graphics cards and sound cards that had transformed MS-DOS computers from dull things suitable only for running boring business applications into the only game-playing computers that really mattered in the United States. But, as with those earlier technologies, consumer uptake of CD-ROM had been slower than Sierra, chomping at the bit to use it, would have liked.

Thankfully, then, 1993 was the year when CD-ROM, a technology which had been around for almost a decade by that point, finally broke through; this was the year when the hardware became cheap enough and the selection of software compelling enough to power a new wave of multimedia excitement which swept across the world of computing. As with those graphics cards and sound cards earlier on, Sierra’s relentless prodding doubtless played a significant role in this newfound consumer acceptance of CD-ROM. And not least among the prods was the CD-ROM version of King’s Quest VI, which boasted lusher graphics in many places and voices replacing text absolutely everywhere. The voice acting marked a welcome improvement over the talkie version of King’s Quest V, the only previous game in the series to get a release on CD-ROM. The fifth game had apparently been voiced by whoever happened to be hanging around the office that day, with results that were almost unlistenably atrocious. King’s Quest VI, on the other hand, got a professional cast, headed by Robby Benson, who had just played the Beast in the hit Disney cartoon of Beauty and the Beast, in the role of Prince Alexander, the protagonist. Although Sierra could all too often still seem like babes in the woods when it came to media aesthetics, they were slowly learning on at least some fronts.

In the meantime, they could look to the bottom line of CD-ROM uptake with satisfaction. They shipped just 13 percent of their products on CD-ROM in 1992; in 1993, that number rose to 36 percent. Already by the end of that year, they had initiated their first projects that were earmarked only for CD-ROM. The dam had burst; the floppy disk was soon to be a thing of the past as a delivery medium for games.

This ought to have been a moment of unabashed triumph for Sierra in more ways than one. Back in the mid-1980s, when the company had come within a whisker of being pulled under by the Great Home Computer Crash, Ken Williams had decided, against the conventional wisdom of the time, that the long-term future of consumer computing lay with the operating systems of Microsoft and the open hardware architecture inadvertently spawned by the original IBM PC. He’d stuck to his guns ever since; while Sierra did release some of their games for other computer platforms, they were always afterthoughts, mere ways to earn a little extra money while waiting for the real future to arrive. And now that future had indeed arrived; Ken Williams had been proved right. The green-screened cargo vans of 1985 had improbably become the multimedia sports cars of 1993, all whilst sticking to the same basic software and hardware architecture.

And yet Ken was feeling more doubtful than triumphant. While he remainedr convinced that CDs were the future of game delivery, he was no longer so convinced that MS-DOS was the only platform that mattered. On the contrary, he was deeply concerned by the fact that, while MS-DOS-based computers had evolved enormously in terms of graphics and sound and sheer processing power, they remained as cryptically hard to use as ever. Just installing and configuring one of his company’s latest games required considerable technical skill. His ambition, as he told anyone who would listen, was to build Sierra into a major purveyor of mainstream entertainment. Could he really do that on MS-DOS? Yes, Microsoft Windows was out there as well — in fact, it was exploding in popularity, to the point that it was already becoming hard to find productivity software that wasn’t Windows-based. But Windows had its own fair share of quirks, and wasn’t really designed for running high-performance games under any circumstances.

Even as MS-DOS and Windows thus struggled with issues of affordability, approachability, and user-friendliness in the context of games, new CD-based alternatives to traditional computers were appearing almost by the month. NEC and Sega were selling CD drives as add-ons for their TurboGrafx-16 and Genesis game consoles; Philips had something called CD-i; Commodore had CDTV; Trip Hawkins, founder of Electronic Arts, had split away from his old company to found 3DO; even Tandy was pushing a free-standing CD-based platform called the VIS. All of these products were designed to be easy for ordinary consumers to operate in all the ways a personal computer wasn’t, and they were all designed to fit into the living room rather than the back office. In short, they looked and operated like mainstream consumer electronics, while personal computers most definitely still did not.

But even if one assumed that platforms like these were the future of consumer multimedia, as Ken Williams was sorely tempted to do, which one or two would win out to become the standard? The situations was oddly similar to that which had faced software makers like Sierra back in the early 1980s, when the personal-computer marketplace had been fragmented into more than a dozen incompatible platforms. Yet the comparison only went so far: development costs for the multimedia software of the early 1990s were vastly higher, and so the stakes were that much higher as well.

Nevertheless, Ken Williams decided that the only surefire survival strategy for Sierra was to become a presence on most if not all of the new platforms. Just as MS-DOS had finally, undeniably won the day in the field of personal computers, Sierra would ironically abandon their strict allegiance to computers in general. Instead, they would now pledge their fealty to CDs in the abstract. For Ken had grander ambitions than just being a major player on the biggest computing platform; he wanted to be a major player in entertainment, full stop. “Sierra is an entertainment company, not a software company,” he said over and over.

So, at no inconsiderable expense, Ken instituted projects to port the SCI engine that ran Sierra’s adventure games to most of the other extant platforms that used CDs as their delivery medium. In doing so, however, he once again ran into a problem that Sierra and other game developers of the early 1980s, struggling to port their wares to the many incompatible platforms of that period, had become all too familiar with: the fact that every platform had such different strengths and weaknesses in terms of interface, graphics, sound, memory, and processing potential. Just because a platform of the early 1990s could accept software distributed on CD didn’t mean it could satisfactorily run all of the same games as an up-to-date personal computer with a CD-ROM drive installed. Corey Cole, who along with his wife Lori Ann Cole made up Sierra’s most competent pair of game designers at the time, but who was nevertheless pulled away from his design role to program a port of the SCI engine to the Sega Genesis with CD drive:

The Genesis CD system was essentially identical to the Genesis except for the addition of the CD. It had inadequate memory for huge games such as the ones Sierra made, and it could only display 64 colors at a time from a 512 color palette. Sierra games at the time used 256 colors at a time from a 262,144 color palette. So the trick became how to make Sierra games look good in a much smaller color space.

Genesis CD did supply some tricks that could be used to fake an expanded color space, and I set out to use those. The problem was that the techniques I used required a lot of memory, and the memory space on the Genesis was much smaller than we expected on PCs at the time. One of the first things I did was to put a memory check in the main SCI processing loop that would warn me if we came close to running out of memory. I knew it would be close.

Sierra assigned a programmer from the Dynamix division to work with me. He had helped convert Willy Beamish to the Genesis CD, so he understood the system requirements well. However, he unintentionally sabotaged the project. In his early tests, my low-memory warning kicked in, so he disabled it. Six months later, struggling with all kinds of random problems (the hard-to-impossible kind to fix), I discovered that the memory check was disabled. When I turned it back on, I learned that the random bugs were all caused by insufficient memory. Basically, Sierra games were too big to fit on the Genesis CD, and there was very little we could do to shoehorn them in. With the project now behind schedule, and the only apparent solution being a complete rewrite of SCI to use a smaller memory footprint, Sierra management cancelled the project.

While Corey Cole spun his wheels in this fashion, Lori Ann Cole was forced to design most of Quest for Glory III alone, at significant cost to this latest iteration in what had been Sierra’s most creative and compelling adventure series up to that point.

The push to move their games to consoles also cost Sierra in the more literal sense of dollars and cents, and in the end they got absolutely no return for their investment. Some of the porting projects, like the one on which Corey worked, were abandoned when the target hardware proved itself not up to the task of running games designed for cutting-edge personal computers. Others were rendered moot when the entire would-be consumer-electronics category of multimedia set-top boxes for the living room — a category that included CD-i, CDTV, 3DO, and VIS — flopped one and all. (Radio Shack employees joked that the VIS acronym stood for “Virtually Impossible to Sell.”) In the end, King’s Quest VI never came out in any versions except those for personal computers. Ken Williams’s dream of conquering the living room, like that of conquering the radio waves, would never come to fruition.

The money Sierra wasted on the fruitless porting projects were far from the only financial challenge they faced at the dawn of the CD era in gaming. For all that everyone at the company had chaffed against the restrictions of floppy disks, those same restrictions had, by capping the amount of audiovisual assets one could practically include in a game, acted as a restraint on escalating development budgets. With CD-ROM, all bets were off in terms of how big a game could become. Sierra felt themselves to be in a zero-sum competition with the rest of their industry to deliver ever more impressive, ever more “cinematic” games that utilized the new storage medium to its full potential. The problem, of course, was that such games cost vastly more money to make.

It was a classic chicken-or-the-egg conundrum. Ken Williams was convinced that games had the potential to appeal to a broader demographic and thus sell in far greater numbers than ever before in this new age of CD-ROM. Yet to reach that market he first had to pay for the development of these stunning new games. Therein lay the rub. If this year’s games cost less to make but also come with a much lower sales cap than next year’s games, the old financial model — that of using the revenue generated by this year’s games to pay for next year’s — doesn’t work anymore. Yet to scale back one’s ambitions for next year’s games means to potentially miss out on the greatest gold rush in the history of computer gaming to date.

As if these pressures weren’t enough, Sierra was also facing the slow withering of what used to be another stable source of revenue: their back catalog. In 1991, titles released during earlier years accounted for fully 60 percent of their sales; in 1992, that number shrank to 48 percent, and would only keep falling from there. In this new multimedia age, driven by audiovisuals above all else, games that were more than a year or two old looked ancient. People weren’t buying them, and stores weren’t interested in stocking them. (Another chicken-or-the-egg situation…) This forced a strike-while-the-iron-is-hot mentality toward development, increasing that much more the perceived need to make every game look and sound spectacular, while also instilling a countervailing need to release it quickly, before it started to look outdated. Sierra had long been in the habit of amortizing their development costs for tax and other accounting purposes: i.e., mortgaging the cost of making each game against its future revenue. Now, as the size of these mortgages soared, this practice created still more pressure to release each game in the quarter to which the accountants had earmarked it. None of this was particularly conducive to the creation of good, satisfying games.

At first blush, one might be tempted to regard what came next as just more examples of the same types of problems that had always dogged Sierra’s output. Ken Williams had long failed to install the culture and processes that consistently lead to good design, which had left well-designed games as the exception rather than the rule even during the company’s earlier history. Now, though, things reached a new nadir, as Sierra began to ship games that were not just poorly designed but blatantly unfinished. Undoubtedly the most heartbreaking victim of these pressures was Quest for Glory IV, Corey and Lori Ann Cole’s would-be magnum opus, which shipped on December 31, 1993 — the last day of the fiscal quarter to which it had been earmarked — in a truly woeful condition, so broken it wasn’t even possible to complete it. Another sorry example was Outpost, a sort of SimCity in space that was rendered unplayable by bugs. And an even worse one was Alien Legacy, an ambitious attempt to combine strategy with adventure gaming in a manner reminiscent of Cryo Interactive’s surprisingly effective adaptation of Dune. We’ll never know how well Sierra’s take on the concept would have worked because, once again, it shipped unfinished and essentially unplayable.

Each of these games had had real potential if they had only been allowed to realize it. One certainly didn’t need to be an expert in marketing or anything else to see how profoundly unwise it was in the long run to release them in such a state. While each of them met an arbitrary accounting deadline, thus presumably preventing some red ink in one quarter, Sierra sacrificed long-term profits on the altar of this short-term expediency: word quickly got around among gamers that the products were broken, and even many of those who were unfortunate enough to buy them before they got the word wound up returning them. That Sierra ignored such obvious considerations and shoved the games out the door anyway speaks to the pressures that come to bear as soon as a company goes public, as Sierra had done in 1988. Additionally, and perhaps more ominously, it speaks to an increasing disconnect between management and the people making the actual products.

Through it all, Ken Williams, who seemed almost frantic not to miss out on what he regarded as the inflection point for consumer software, was looking to expand his empire, looking to make Sierra known for much more than adventure games. In fact, he had already begun that process in early 1990, when Sierra acquired Dynamix, a development house notable for their 3D-graphics technology, for $1 million in cash and some stock shenanigans. That gambit had paid off handsomely; Dynamix’s World War II flight simulator Aces of the Pacific became Sierra’s second biggest hit of 1992, trailing only the King’s Quest VI juggernaut whilst — and this was important to Ken — appealing to a whole different demographic from their adventure games. In addition to their flight simulators, Dynamix also spawned a range of other demographically diverse hits over this period, from The Incredible Machine to Front Page Sports: Football.

With a success story like that in his back pocket, it was time for Ken to go shopping again. In July of 1992, Sierra acquired Bright Star Technology, a Bellevue, Washington-based specialist in educational software, for $1 million. Ken was convinced that educational software, a market that had grown only in fits and starts during earlier years, would become massive during the multimedia age, and he was greatly enamored with Bright Star’s founder, a real bright spark himself named Elon Gasper. “He thinks, therefore he is paid,” was Ken’s description of Gasper’s new role inside the growing Sierra. Bright Star also came complete with some innovative technology they had developed for syncing recorded voices to the mouths of onscreen characters — perhaps not the first problem one thinks of when contemplating a CD-ROM-based talkie of an adventure game, but one which quickly presents itself when the actual work begins. King’s Quest VI became the first Sierra game to make use of it; it was followed by many others.

Meanwhile Bright Star themselves would deliver a steady stream of slick, educator-approved learning software over the years to come. Less fortunately, the acquisition did lead to the sad demise of Sierra’a in-house “Discovery Series” of educational products, which had actually yielded some of their best designed and most creative games of any stripe during the very early 1990s. Now, the new acquisition would take over responsibility for a “second, more refined generation of educational products,” as Sierra’s annual report put it. But in addition to being more refined — more rigorously compliant with established school curricula and the latest pedagogical theories — they would also be just a little bit boring in contrast to the likes of The Castle of Dr. Brain. Such is the price of progress.

Sierra’s third major acquisition of the 1990s was more complicated, more expensive, and more debatable than the first two had been. On October 29, 1993, they bought the French developer and publisher Coktel Vision for $4.6 million. Coktel had been around since 1985, unleashing upon European gamers such indelibly (stereotypically?) French creations as Emmanuelle: A Game of Eroticism, based on a popular series of erotic novels and films. But by the early 1990s, Coktel was doing the lion’s share of their business in educational software. In 1992, estimates were that 50 to 75 percent of the software found in French schools came from Coktel. The character known as Adi, the star of their educational line, is remembered to this day by a whole generation of French schoolchildren.

Sierra had cut a deal more than a year before the acquisition to begin distributing Coktel’s games in the United States, and had made a substantial Stateside success out of Gobliiins, a vaguely Lemmings-like puzzle game. That proof of concept, combined with Coktel’s educational line and distributional clout in Europe — Ken was eager to enter that sprawling market, where Sierra heretofore hadn’t had much of a footprint — convinced the founder to pull the trigger.

But this move would never quite pan out as he had hoped. Although the text and voices were duly translated, the cultural idiom of Adi just didn’t seem to make sense to American children. Meanwhile Coktel’s games, which mashed together disparate genres like adventure and simulation with the same eagerness with which they mashed together disparate presentation technologies like full-motion video and 3D graphics, encountered all the commercial challenges that French designs typically ran into in the United States. Certainly few Americans knew what to make of a game like Inca; it took place in the far future of an alternate history where the ancient Incan civilization had survived, conquered, and taken to the stars, where they continued to battle, Wing Commander-style, with interstellar Spanish galleons. (The phrase “what were they smoking?” unavoidably comes to mind…) Today, the games of Coktel are remembered by American players, if they’re remembered at all, mostly for the sheer bizarreness of premises like this one, married to puzzles that make the average King’s Quest game seem like a master class in good adventure design. Coktel’s European distribution network undoubtedly proved more useful to Sierra than the company’s actual games, but it’s doubtful whether even it was useful to the tune of $4.6 million.

Inca, one of the strangest games Sierra ever published — and not really in a good way.

Ken Williams was playing for keeps in a high-stakes game with all of these moves, as he continued to do as well with ImagiNation, a groundbreaking, genuinely visionary online service, oriented toward socializing and playing together, which stubbornly refused to turn a profit. All together, the latest moves constituted a major shift in strategy from the conservative, incrementalist approach that had marked his handling of Sierra since the company’s near-death experience of the mid-1980s. From 1987 — the year the recovering patient first managed to turn a profit again — through 1991, Sierra had sold more games and made more money each year. The first of those statements held true for 1992 as well, as sales increased from $43 million to within a whisker of $50 million. But profits fell off a cliff; Sierra lost almost $12.5 million that year alone. Sales increased impressively again in 1993, to $59.5 million. Yet, although the bottom line looked less ugly, it remained all too red thanks to all of the ongoing spending; the company lost another $4.5 million that year.

In short, Ken Williams was now mortgaging Sierra’s present against its future, in precisely the way he’d sworn he’d never do again during those dark days of 1984 and 1985. But he felt he had to make his play for the big time now or never; CD-ROM was a horse he just had to ride, hopefully all the way to the nerve center of Western pop culture. And so he did something else he’d sworn he would never do: he left Oakhurst, California. In September of 1993, Ken and Roberta and select members of Sierra’s management team moved to Bellevue, Washington, to set up a new “corporate headquarters” there; sales and marketing would gradually follow over the months to come. Ken had long been under pressure from his board to move to a major city, one where it would be easier to recruit a “first-rate management team” to lead Sierra into a bold new future. Bellevue, a suburb of Seattle that was also home to Microsoft, Nintendo, and of course Sierra’s own new subsidiary of Bright Star, seemed as good a choice as any. Ken promised Sierra’s creative staff as well as their fans that nothing would really change: most of the games would still be made in the cozy confines of Oakhurst. And he spoke the truth — at least in literal terms, at least for the time being.

Nevertheless, something had changed. The old dream of starting a software company in the woods, the one which had brought a much younger, much shaggier Ken and Roberta to Oakhurst in 1980, had in some very palpable sense run its course. Sierra had well and truly gone corporate; Ken and Roberta were back in the world they had so consciously elected to escape thirteen years before. Oh, well… the arrows of both revenue and profitably at Sierra were pointing in the right direction. One more year, Ken believed, and they ought to be in the black again, and in a stronger position in the marketplace than ever at that. Chalk the rest of it up as yet one more price of progress.

(Sources: the book Influential Game Designers: Jane Jenson by Anastasia Salter; Sierra’s newsletter InterAction of Spring 1992, Fall 1992, Winter 1992, June 1993, Summer 1993, Holiday 1993, Spring 1994, and Fall 1994; The One of April 1989; ACE of May 1989; Game Players PC Entertainment of Holiday 1992; Compute! of May 1993; Computer Gaming World of January 1992; press releases, annual reports, and other internal and external documents from the Sierra archive at the Strong Museum of Play. An online source was the Games Nostalgia article on King’s Quest VI. And my thanks go to Corey Cole, who took the time to answer some questions about this period of Sierra’s history from his perspective as a developer there.)

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/the-mortgaging-of-sierra-online/

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