#would’ve rather done this concept more justice but its finals | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Kamen Rider Info and Ideas (Feel free to ignore)

As a huge fan of Kamen Rider, I always wondered about ways it could be expanded, and maybe not improved so much as become More. So, right now, I am gonna make a list of Kamen Rider Series, starting with Black and RX, and continuing all the way to the Reiwa Era! Everybody clap your hands!! *Cricket noises* Okay, here we go!

Kamen Rider Black, and its sequel, Black RX, details the journey of Kohtaro Minami, or Minami Kohtaro for those who prefer the traditional Japanese naming conventions, on his mission to defeat Gorgom, an ancient tribe/organization that has evolved into a cultic terrorist organization bent on world domination. While still holding to the Showa era’s tradition of having Cyborg Riders, Black and RX were the first in which, aside from Kamen Rider Amazon, the supernatural played a prominent part in the powers of the riders, as Kohtaro and his stepbrother Nobuhiko were the designated heirs to the leader of Gorgom, the Century King, and infused with the relics that contained his power, the Kingstones. Both Kohtaro and Nobuhiko were infused with the Kingstones, in the attempt to convert them into the Villains Black Sun and Shadow Moon, with only Kohtaro managing to escape.

One of the things that I felt could’ve been at least a little better in regards to the series was if Shadow Moon could regain his original self and rejoin the path of justice. It would’ve also been pretty cool if Shadow Moon gained his own upgraded form, which did actually happen in tie-in novels and manga, and if either or both of them gained the ability to unleash a final form that drew upon the power they wielded as the New Century Kings. Ah well, that’s what fanfiction is for!

Kamen Rider Kuuga details the battles of Yusuke Godai, the successor to the ancient warrior of justice, Riku, as the Kuuga. Kuuga’s powers are derived from Growth, allowing him to access a variety of forms and powers based on what he needs to grow into, and can be bolstered by mystical energy sources to ascend even further! Yusuke’s enemies are the Gurongi tribe, ancient monsters who abandoned their humanity to satisfy their love of death and conflict, and wished to have all of humanity become as dark and twisted as them, with the “honor” of being the Gurongi to start the process going to whichever of them managed to win their tournament, in which the Gurongi Tribal-members all battled to the death as a whole.

One of the things that bugged me a little, was that Kuuga never fully evolved all his forms, and that his true final form was even used in his series! I mean, seriously, what!? Once again, budget concerns limit the awesomeness of a series before it can bloom, sigh.

Kamen Rider Agito is the story of Shoichi Tsugami, a young amnesiac who belongs to an offshoot of the human race known as the Agito. Agitos possess incredible psychic powers and exist in a perpetual state of evolution, adapting to the changes in themselves and the world around them at an incredible rate.

My only real beef with this series was the limited number of forms Agito had as compared to Kuuga, and that one of the Extra Riders had the lazy name of Another Agito. You heard me right. All in all, not to bad, but a little frustrating.

Next up, Kamen Rider Ryuki, which also served as part of the inspiration for the list. Honestly, with how much I plan on covering JUST for Ryuki, I’ll probably leave this off after this and pick up more tomorrow. Ryuki is one of the first series in the franchise to fully exploit the nature of multiple riders, and basically invented the concept of Dark Riders, which I will also explain.

Ryuki involves the Rider War, a conflict taking place in the real world, and a parallel realm known as the Mirror World, populated by unfeeling monsters known as, you guessed it, Mirror Monsters, which must constantly kill when in our world in order to remain stable, or at least they are allegedly supposed to. The Rider War was a conflict set up by a man known as Shiro to revive his dead sister, under the guise of a tournament to the death for a reality-warping wish, which Shiro wanted for himself. The war brought together 13, yes you read that right, 13 Riders, all with variances in their styles and abilities. This selfish conflict is partially, if not entirely why I said that introduced Dark Riders properly to the franchise; Dark Riders are individuals who bear the same transformative powers of Kamen Riders, but instead of using them to fight against the wicked and monstrous, are instead put towards their own selfish ends, and none of them are the type of individual you wanna run into in a dark alley.

The Riders of Ryuki derived their power from two things, their Contract Monster, a Mirror Monster that they formed a bond with in order to exist without needing to bring about death, and an Advent Deck, a Deck of Cards that harnessed the power of the Mirror Monster it bonded to and allowed the Riders to survive in the Mirror Realm, which is inherently fatal for humans to be in. One of the key aspects of Advent Cards is how they work, each one draws and harnesses an aspect of the Contract Monster it is connected to, or wields a power specifically to fight other Advent Riders. Now, before I get to my thoughts and ideas, I am going to list each Rider from Ryuki, as well as the nature of their Advent Decks and fighting styles.

Shinji Kido: Kamen Rider Ryuki himself, and contracted to the fierce Dragon-Type Mirror Monster, Dragonredder. With a Dragon on his side, you’d expect him to be the powerhouse of the group, right? HAHAHAHAHA no. Shinji stumbled upon the Rider War by near-complete accident, and, being the nice guy he is, decided if he was going to be a part, he would protect the bystanders from the conflict and ensure as many of the Riders made it out alive as he could. Easier said than done. Out of all the Riders, Ryuki has the least straight-forward fighting style, not helped by his incredible clumsiness, with his deck emphasizing the ability to have as many options as possible; jack of all trades master of none, but better master of none than master of one.

Ren Akiyama: Kamen Rider Knight, and the contract holder of the Bat-Type Mirror Monster, Darkwing. He comes across as aloof, cold even, whose only in it for himself, but in truth he decided to enter the war to save the life of his ill fiance. Knight’s fighting style blends straight-up direct combat, and subterfuge based war tactics, with his deck emphasizing this by providing him with both weapons and special abilities that optimize getting the drop on his foes. Hmm... themed after a bat, a knight, and mixing close combat with dark and spooky tactics. Now where have I seen THAT before?

Masashi Shido: Kamen Rider Scissors, a Dark Rider, and the contractor of the Crab-Type Mirror Monster, Volcancer. A corrupt cop and detective, Scissors took bribes and cuts in illegal dealings, and used his Mirror Monster to liberally dispose of witnesses as he pleased. He ultimately died when his contract was destroyed and Volcancer turned on him. Despite his practices necessitating subterfuge, Scissors’ fighting style is rather extravagant, emulating that of a gladiator, with his deck providing cards that mix heavy combat with putting his enemy into an unfavorable situation to seal the deal, fitting for a backstabber.

Shuichi Kitaoka: Kamen Rider Zolga, one of the neutral and later heroic elements in the war, and the bearer of the contract for the Minotaur-Type Mirror Monster, Magnugigas, a colossal bio-mechanical behemoth. A shady lawyer with a lot of wealth, Zolga was diagnosed with fatal cancer, and desired to become immortal to continue living his lifestyle forever. While initially uncaring and selfish, he ultimately came to see the value in others, and lamented all the criminals that walked free due to his actions, hoping Ryuki would win. Cunning, intellegent, and crafty, Zolga’s fighting style favors both heavy defense and massive firepower, burying an enemy in a storm of blasts while he hunkers down, with his deck further emphasizing this with a bevy of long-distance combat cards and barriers.

Miyuki Tezuka: Kamen Rider Raia, a fortune-teller beyond compare, he enters the war to save lives and honor his deceased friend, and bears the contract of the Stingray-Type Mirror Monster, Evildiver. Raia’s fighting style places heavy importance on movement, offering cards that can offer him superior movement, and uses a whip as his principle weapon.

Jun Shibaura: Kamen Rider Gai, an utterly selfish and monstrous beast of a man, he wields the contract of the Rhino-Type Mirror Monster, Metalgelas. A prodigy of computers and gaming, Gai sees the death match that is the Rider War as nothing more than a game, and the fighters as players he can wipe out at his leisure. Gai’s fighting style is a straight up rush of overwhelming force, with his cards emphasizing interfering with his opponent’s options to force them to fight him directly and his brutal power of himself and his Contract Monster gives him an edge.

Takeshi Asakura: Kamen Rider Ouja, and the main Dark Rider of the series, holder of the contract for the Snake-Type Mirror Monster, Venosnaker. A sadistic monster to his core, Takeshi killed his own family as a child, and left a bloody trail in his wake for years, remorselessly cutting down anyone who falls in his path in his bloodlust. Despite his seemingly simple minded nature, Ouja is immensely cunning, favoring a sadistic fighting style that emphasizes causing as much pain to his enemy as he can before they die at his hands, and he is far from afraid to get his hands dirty. Ironically, Ouja has one of the weaker decks in the war, bearing limited options to fight with, Ouja thrives due to his sheer brutality, fighting ability, and utter ruthlessness. “Fun” fact, unlike the other Riders, Takeshi never realized that a wish was up for grabs, he was just having a good time! When he finally learned that the winner got a wish, he decided his wish would be to have ANOTHER Rider War, so he could kill another pack of warriors! Ouja’s deck does have two solid advantages over the other riders; Ouja possesses extra Contract Cards, meaning he can add other Mirror Monsters and their powers to his deck, ultimately deciding to save them to take the Mirror Monsters of the Riders he kills, with his other big trick his Unite Card, which allowed him to COMBINE his Mirror Monsters into the horrifying Chimera-Type Mirror Monster, Genocider (ain’t that a name).

Odin: Kamen Rider Odin, a Rider not designated Dark only due to the fact he doesn’t have enough of a mind to be one, and wielder of the Phoenix-Type Mirror Monster as his Contract, Goldphoenix. Odin is unusual, in that he is essentially a puppet, a brainwashed shell that acts as Shiro’s representative in the war that occupies whatever body Shiro gives the Contract to. Out of all the Riders, Odin has the greatest immediate strength, allowing him to overwhelm just about anything in ideal situations, and if things go wrong, Odin (along with Shiro) can REWIND TIME to reset the war until Shiro gets the outcome he wants, only giving up when he accepts that he won’t be able to bring his sister back.

Satoru Tojo: Kamen Rider Tiger, a man who wants to be a hero, and wields the power of the Tiger-Type Mirror Monster, Destwilder. Tiger is a broken individual, lacking a LOT of basic understanding in regards to people, he wavers between good and evil in his desire to be a hero due to his incomprehension of what it means to be heroic, ultimately becoming a hero when he selflessly sacrificed his life to save a father and son about to be hit by an oncoming truck, finally realizing what it truly meant to be a human in his last moments. A highly inexperienced fighter, Tiger often lost, which didn’t help his instability, forcing himself to rely on ambushes to win, his deck favored close-range melee and offered him support in the form of ice attacks.

Mitsuru Sano: Kamen Rider Imperer, a self-styled mercenary rider, and wielder of the multi-type contract allowing him to command the power of the Gazelle-Type Mirror Monsters, with Gigazelle serving as the leader of his horde. Imperer was raised to believe that wealth was what was most important in life, completely missing the fact that his idea to be a mercenary in the Rider War was impossible as all but one of the contestants must die for it to complete and you cannot quit either. After falling in love, Mitsuru seemed to be realizing that there is more to life than money, he tragically died before he could act on his new views, trapped in the Mirror World, reaching out to the image of his love, screaming in fear. Imperer’s fighting style makes use of boxing, and bum-rushing his enemies with his massive swarm of Contract Monsters.

And, because I am starting to grow tired and this is REALLY LONG, I am gonna finish this later today before I burn out.

#kamen rider #kamen rider franchise #kamen rider series #kamen rider ryuki #observations #feel free to ignore this

6 notes · View notes

betweenthetimeandsound · 3 years

Text

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#160-151)

(Author's note: Sorry about it being a couple of days late--I wanted to rest a bit--which I will do again because we hit the top 150--and had to download quite a bit for the gifs. Please enjoy this bunch, though!)

#160: Dihaj -- Skeletons (Azerbaijan 2017)

“When we hook up it’s fantasy We’re just like alchemy I’ve never been so ready”

I completely neglected Skeletons during the contest, as I didn't listen to it beforehand and didn't watch songs 12-17 when watching the grand final live. Along with "Grab the Moment" that year, it sandwiched a horrendous stretch of songs in #13-16.

Despite this, I listened to it a lot afterwards. It’s equal parts intriguing and mysterious, especially with the almost-nonsensical lyrics with interesting images. I always imagined a concept film in which the main character meets a potential love interest in a night club, only to go too far and almost kill him.

The atmosphere the staging created was a bit strange, in that it incorporates masks and a world inside a school chalkboard. For each of these aspects, Skeletons is my favorite Azeri entry ever—it stands out in a unique way because of its eccentricity.

Personal ranking: 5th/42 Actual ranking: 14th/26 GF in Kyiv

#159: Tommy Seebach -- Disco Tango (Denmark 1979)

“Hun er en stjerne på et dansegulv Slår John Travolta i en rock ‘n’ roll På diskoteket ta’r hun kegler, og der ka’ man se Dem stå i kø og skæve, hver gang hun gør sin entré”

“She’s a star on a dance floor Beats John Travolta in a rock ‘n’ roll At the disco she’s scoring, and there you see Them queue up with an eye on her, every time she enters”

Disco and tango are two genres you don’t expect to work together, despite them being so fun to dance to. Despite this, Tommy Seebach makes it sound natural. There’s a bit of adjustment needed when listening to it, but it’s equally flirty and groovy all at once, as one gets to know the many quirks of the song.

The live performance definitely elevates it--not only with Debbie Cameron's enthusiasm (she would come back two years later with Tommy in a bigger part), but also because of the orchestration. The mix with strings and castanets in the chorus was definitely the best part and gets me shaking.

It’s different for Denmark, but definitely a song you should put in a disco (*clap clap*) from time to time!

Personal ranking: 3rd/19 Actual ranking: 6th/19 in Jerusalem

#158: Poli Genova -- If Love (Were) a Crime (Bulgaria 2016)

“Unafraid, never fade When it’s dark we illuminate”

Bulgaria’s comeback after a two-year hiatus sees them with a hyper energetic pop song with an uplifting message. While it seems like a simple one at first, the diverse Eurovision community can embrace it for its openness and determination. The great production upholds this gem, and the lighting on stage adds to it, especially in the end.

Poli definitely makes this song come to life with her vocals and her upbeat personality, making it shine even more! (And I did like her costume--not something for everyday-wear, but definitely one fitting the song and a bit avant--garde too). Compared to her first entry, which fights against those who put her down in a pop-rock way, she delivers with fun.

And they got their first qualification in nine years and a start to a nice run of entries as a result.

Personal ranking: 5th/42 Actual ranking: 4th/42 GF in Stockholm

#157: Athena -- For Real (Turkey 2004)

“All I know is you don’t want to be part of the crowd Realise yourself You say it but don’t feel it, what you sayin’ has no meanin’ Don’t hide your soul”

For their host entry, Turkey brings upon Athena, a ska-punk (and former metalcore) band with this bouncy song. And it’s such a great one—filled with energy and fun. A bit different from what we expect from Turkey, but it shows what their music industry could bring.

It's lively and fun, with Gokhan leading the charge with his presence. At times, he shouts more than he sings and it seems like he didn't dress up for a more formal event. That said, there's still a lot of charm in "For Real's" performance, ranging from the sharks in the background to the "Hi mom!" and the peace jacket. It comes along in an eccentric package, and makes for a solid predecessor to their rock-based entries four years later.

And it definitely hints at being oneself, which celebrates individuality in a fun way.

(Plus, that's the reason why my top three in 2004 isn't the actual top three. Haha)

Personal ranking: 3rd/36 Actual ranking: 4th/24 in Istanbul

#156: Katarína Hasprová - Modlitba (Slovakia 1998)

“Láska kráčam údolím sĺz A len ty môžeš zmierniť môj žiaľ Túžim sa dotknúť tvojich pier, tvojich rúk Prosím vráť sa mi, nevzdaj sa nás”

“Love, I am walking the valley of tears Only you can get me out of misery I long to touch your hands, your lips Please, come back, do not give up”

A comment on the interwebs suggested anybody who has Horehronie as their favorite Slovak entry has never listened to this. I could understand why people would gravitate towards the former, but this stands out more for me (and not just because of the religious title).

The introduction reminds me of “Kiss From a Rose”, which here, is less meant to be about plagiarism and more about the 1990s feel of it. Musically, it takes the same medieval elements from other 1990s entries, but it tells a different story, one about trying to fix a relationship on the rocks. It builds well, going from an otherwise delicate ballad to something more explosive when one gets into the chorus. The orchestration really helps it too!

Modlitba got six points from Croatia...and then nothing else. It's still a shame it did so poorly, but as a potential nul-pointer too? Sad.

Personal ranking: 4th/25 Actual ranking: 21st/25 in Birmingham

#155: Melovin -- Under the Ladder (Ukraine 2018)

“Nothing but your will sets you on fire Fire lasts forever...”

The song that inspired a fervor from Melovin’s fans, including me! While I’m not as enthusiastic as them, I still love this song—it's pulsating and intense, with quite interesting lyrics about getting up again(with some enunciation issues). There was a point where the song got a musical revamp, and I feared it would make the song worse, but fortunately it kept the whole thing intact with a few production changes.

Melovin proves he's a talented showman, and seeing the stairs go aflame made me smile (even though I preferred the effect more on his Vidbir performance; the flaming LEDs really helped there). Good thing the televote swooped in, because last place in the jury vote feels really wrong (though it could be because of said pronunciation).

Plus he has some good post-Eurovision songs—check them out! My favorite is З тобою, зі мною, і годі.

Personal ranking: 6th/43 Actual ranking: 17th/26 GF in Lisbon

#154: Joci Papai -- Origo (Hungary 2017)

“Be kell csuknod a szemed Úgy láthatsz meg engemet Hogy meghódítsd a szívem Ismerned kell lelkemet”

“You need to close your eyes So you can see me To conquer my heart You have to know my soul”

While Az en apam (#240) touches me more than Origo, one can’t deny this is the more creative song. It combines not only Romani influences, but also a dark pop foreground which allows them to shine.

In addition, the lyrics are absolutely masterful—they are rooted in Joci’s story and packs a punch in the message. It's tells of a relationship with someone who doesn't accept him for who he is (cursing her forever as a result), along with how Joci grew up and used music as a weapon for himself and his people. He's a compelling storyteller, and you can tell he sings it from the soul.

Combined with a compelling rap and a neat violin instrumental, you get a completely unique experience.

Personal ranking: 4th/42 Actual ranking: 8th/26 GF in Kyiv

#153: Blanche -- City Lights (Belgium 2017)

“All alone in the danger zone Are you ready to take my hand?”

Blanche had quite the journey in Eurovision--first her song gets released, and immediately becomes a contender. Then she has problems performing in shows and during rehearsals, at which the odds star dropping like flies. Then her semi-final performance was notably wobbly, but she still qualifies and places fourth.

Despite the staging errors (I would've personally have made the lighting gold rather than natural-colored), it was fully deserved and I think it was better than the eventual top three.

The vibe of this song reminds me of walking down the streets of Tokyo, because of the visuals involved. Everything is in a rush, but one's not sure There’s also tension, because of the dark electronic sound that dominates it. Despite Blanche’s nervousness on stage, it worked well with the song—it amplified the sensation of walking down a wire and wondering if the relationship will work. A startling entry from Belgium and one that really strikes at modernity.

Personal ranking: 3rd/42 Actual ranking: 4th/26 GF in Kyiv

#152: Frances Ruffelle -- We Will Be Free (Lonely Symphony) (United Kingdom 1994)

“Welcome to the land Where all our dreams are planned And fighting is a thing to do...”

The first of the UK’s attempts to modernize the contest in the 1990s, it’s a cool, funky song with interestingly-written lyrics. Someone compared the chorus to a protest slogan for social justice movement, but the rest of the song discusses a complex relationship. The opening lines are a highlight in particular, and everything flows fantastically.

A few bits of the live-performance went out of hand, like with the orchestration and Frances’ vocals, explained by how she was bopping up and down and was told that she needed to keep that down. As a result, she couldn't focus on her vocals and they turned out a bit sharp at times.

That said, she had a pretty dress and charming look about her. And while it placed in the top ten, I think it should've done better.

Personal ranking: 4th/25 Actual ranking: 10th/25 in Dublin

#151: Sebalter -- Hunter of Stars (Switzerland 2014)

"I state my heart has been well trained I’m gonna be your candidate I am the hunter and you are the prey Tonight I’m gonna eat you up"

This word-salad of a song makes it quite hard to choose a good lyric, as it has a bunch of nice lines but almost no meaning to them. Reading them again, it seems like one is trying to get his affections to like him, to no avail, unfortunately.

But beyond that, we get a fun and wholesome song, which features a prominent banjo and even a violin solo! From the opening melody I can't help but smile, or even whistle along at points (everytime the latter synchronizes, I feel a bit of accomplishment). It's a bit more folksy than what the contest oriented on the time (slickly produced pop with a bit of dubstep), which makes it even more special.

Finally, we have Sebalter himself, who really carries his own song! Not only is he quite good-looking, but also very charismatic and knows how to have a good time. While Swiss entries have become better known since then, you can't replicate Hunter of Stars; it's too special!

Personal ranking: 5th/37 Actual ranking: 13th/26 GF in Copenhagen

#eurovision song contest #esc 250 #esc top 250 #esc azerbaijan #esc denmark #esc bulgaria #esc turkey #esc slovakia #esc ukraine #esc hungary #esc belgium #esc united kingdom #esc switzerland #vintage eurovision #three minutes to eternity

0 notes

lesbianmarth · 4 years

Text

it’s been a while since i posted about aa but i just finished soj in its entirety tonight. here’s my new list so far

i still have to give thoughts on cases 4 5 and dlc so that’ll be under a cut. spoilers!

6-4: this was such a filler case, almost shamefully so. i don’t know why they thought they could manage to do this in the 4th case when every game with 5 cases has been pretty consistent about making the 4th case plot relevant, sometimes literally just a preamble to case 5. so yeah i think this one was kinda ass

the two things it had going for it: one, athena. in 6-2 i actually got confused about why i ever liked her, because in that case she felt like she was just acting the part of the Peppy Teen Girl With a Rowdy Streak that makes up almost every assistant character. But then as SOON as she started bantering with Simon in 6-4 i was like “oh, THAT’S why i liked her!” was nice to take control of her again.

two, uendo toneido. while i don’t think you can say the DID was portrayed with quite the necessary respect or kindness, it was handled better than i’ve seen other media handle it-- at least it’s not completely demonized. other people have written more on that in better detail so i’m not really the judge, but the basic point is that this witness was mad fun to read, and even the dumb jokes like the changing number of floor cushions were entertaining. thus why this case is in the “hard carried by one side character” tier.

especially since there was like nothing else going on. no connection to the main plot, only two other characters besides uendo, and for some reason the clown tits girl was here instead of the magic show case (and to be honest, she wasn’t enjoyable for me even BEFORE she did the standard aa female villain thing and changed her speech pattern as soon as she fell under suspicion). just a weird, nothing case stuck right around the point aa games usually enter endgame. And especially weird because...

6-5 part 1: inexplicably there are two separate cases in the final chapter and each gets one day of investigation and trial. such a weird setup, and it really shouldn’t work... but i think it kinda barely does. barely. it would still have been better to split it into case 4 and case 5 though.

i have a hard time articulating much on the first case bc it sort of blends together for me. the main thing is that the concept of it being a civil case where apollo and phoenix face off is really good. it was a good change of pace, even though you knew it was gonna be a murder somehow anyway. sarge was reasonably nice, i guess, paul atishon had some good animations and quirks (my favorite being when he tries to just walk away from the stand to avoid answering a question), and the logic of the actual murder was good enough.

but i especially got those strong “oh this is a FINAL case!” vibes during the segment in the cave, and that added so much to it even if not much of it was relevant in the first half of the case. the adventure feel reminded me of some of the (out of context bc i still havent played it) scenes i know from 3-5, which is a good association to invoke imo. and it did a lot to give apollo and dhurke time to bond.

speaking of which, dhurke, holy shit. what a KING. i don’t think i’ve ever liked a dad character in ace attorney this much. he’s so genuine and like down to earth that it’s impossible not to start liking him and believe how much he cares for his sons. the bit where he rescued apollo from the cave flood... i felt it in my heart

6-5 part 2: let me just get this out of the way: ga’ran sucks. her design after she goes full evil is so bad, she’s so malicious that it’s immediately obvious she’s going to be the culprit, her breakdown is ridiculous and just embarrassing to watch, and inga had already established way more charisma as a villain when he did the “those were orders of execution actually” bit in 6-3. with that said,

i actually liked it for the most part. the spirit channeling stuff was excellent imo-- they probably use it to similar or greater effect in 3-5 but as someone who again has not played that, i was surprised and almost impressed by how well it was applied. maya was relevant for something! it feels like it’s been ages!

rayfa was a little underutilized, i think-- her moment of determination where she stops letting ga’ran have control over her was alright but it fell flat bc it didn’t have any weight during the moment. i kept hoping she would like, wordlessly take of her shawl and do the little verbal preamble to the divination seance while ga’ran kept yelling at her to stop, but no, the script can’t be good like that, i guess. and since she didn’t get to be the investigation assistant for long, none of her charm in that role carried through.

but DHURKE!! oh my god! in a game almost devoid of emotional impact, his involvement in this case really hit. the way they painstakingly animated his death, the scene where he makes a promise with maya, and then the weight of knowing in hindsight that everything he did in the first part of the case was after he’d already died and just wanted to see his son again before passing on for real....... it hurt. i felt something during that section. this case would also be hard carried by him if not for the fact that i really liked the murder bits.

amara was good too--liked how they made her suspiciously serene and accentuated it with the lightning strikes to make her look like a hidden murderer character about to reveal herself, only to walk it back and confirm she was being forced to act that way. i thought it worked. nahyuta was boring though, i’m sorry-- i get the motivation with having to be a bastard bc his sister and mom were basically held hostage, but the only time i found him compelling in that mess was the bit where he removed his one fingerless glove and revealed he still has the dragon tattoo. that was it. athena was also completely unused the whole case (not even a single mood matrix? really?) and trucy one again went without any role of importance.

the ending also... yknow, a friend said they had to end it this way bc they never figured out what they were going to do with apollo (since following up on what they started in aa4 clearly wasn’t an option???) and just threw him on a bus to get rid of him. i agree with that-- he really feels thrown to the side, and with that i think trucy’s officially stranded with no hope of any character advancement. and the way they ended the game with phoenix and lamiroir deciding “yeah, maybe NOW we should finally tell those two they’re related” honestly felt insulting lol

but maybe the dlc case will let things go out on a high note...?!

6-6: it was okay.

it would’ve worked pretty well as a filler case in an older aa-- honestly i think it’d be one of the better filler cases, certainly worth replacing the shitty ones like 2-3 or 3-3 or, hey, 6-4. but whether i’d say it was worth paying for... eh.

the time travel conceit was done well enough, i think. the way they tied it back to sorin and pierce’s backstories was nice, and the twist about having two receptions was good, although they needed to treat that as a real twist with much more gravity. when the truth comes out it just feels like “oh of course that’s what happened” rather than a big surprise worthy of the Confessing the Truth theme. it’s sort of important because the case becomes a lot less interesting when you take out the time travel element.

far as characters are concerned, i think they needed more side characters to sell the whole thing-- another sprocket family member or another servant of the household. it felt a little limited-- sorin and pierce are pretty good witnesses and i like their quirks and their secrets, but the only alive woman (ellen) has very few traits and no connection to the deeper story of the case, so she falls really flat. the old aa characters didn’t add much- maya and edgeworth were just there for fanservice, ema didn’t get to do much other than acknowledge for the first time in years that she’s a big edgeworth fan, and larry is annoying as hell like he always is.

and oh my god i actually forgot while i was writing that, how they put in athena and trucy but only used them for brief slapstick where trucy would try to set athena on fire and shit. again-- no mood matrix? couldn’t even try once to fit those two characters into something?

i did like pierce’s transformation into his surgeon form though-- that was really cool. loved him doing surgery on a robot, taking xrays of the lawyers, and his breakdown was fantastic-- he would make a really good culprit if they didn’t whiff the last bit of pathos at the end. i don’t think he should’ve been aiming for revenge on sorin; it would have hurt much more if he was still loyal to the guy and never intended for him to be in danger, but the final “why’d you do it?” talk in the trial just felt flat and one-note, much like the one in 6-4.

... so that’s spirit of justice! not a super positive experience but i’m happy to say it’s done. as much as i want to go and replay dgs, i think when i do go back to ace attorney i’ll be replaying the trilogy for the first time since high school

#ace attorney #aa playthrough

23 notes · View notes

monicalorandavis · 4 years

Text

“Queen & Slim“ is, for the most part, excellent

“Queen & Slim” ends how you expect it to. No, Bonnie and Clyde won’t get away this time. Its soundtrack features no mind-blowing cello renditions of “Bitch Better Have My Money” or other mash-ups of strings in an unexpected way. Which is not to say that the soundtrack is not exactly what you want it to be. It is. (Dev Hynes gifts the world with his rendition of ‘Runnin Away’ that is so good all is forgiven.) Even the performances haunt you with a sense of deja-vu lived-in realness. These are people you might’ve seen across from you at a restaurant and never thought about again.

This is a movie, by and large, that feels like a warm blanket but for whatever reason the metaphoric window was left open, letting the cool air in. An imperfect, near perfect, film. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if that was intentional. But more on that later.

First, the acting. The lead actors are grounded and complicated in the way that good performances make your heart feel all those wonderful pangs. Daniel Kaluuya perhaps has the most impeccable taste in Hollywood and Jodie Turner-Smith breaks out in the lead role with an aloofness that feels like a defense mechanism and totally justified.

Next, the directing. Melina Matsoukas delivers on her reputation as one of the most aesthetic young directors in the biz. The film is beautiful and balanced, navigating the grit of deep south dive bars and trap houses with the same attention given to stately mansions and wide open fields. “Queen & Slim” is familiar, and original, so why is the film not wholly and entirely excellent? The answer is complicated.

We have a breakdown in the final link of the holy trinity (of film-making, that is), the writing. The writing is where this thing falters ever so slightly. And, believe me, it doesn’t feel awesome to criticize the very talented Lena Waithe. But a perfect script this is not. So here it goes...

The story suffers, as most things do, from editing - or lack thereof. Now, I will say, the first 10 minutes of the film are a master class in pacing. The action kicks off almost immediately and at times I felt like I was somehow watching a hidden camera show. Everything felt natural and right and weighted and awkward in all the right places.

We open on a diner where our protagonists are on a first date. Neither of them are in a rush to speak. You wonder, is this going poorly...or are these people already relaxed enough to lean into those silences? The answer is both. (While we don’t know either protagonist’s name until the final scene, I’ll refer to our leads for now as ‘He’ and ‘She’.) He is overly familiar and she’s judgmental. An attorney, she’s reached out to him after several weeks because her client has been executed. His feelings are hurt and he seems to be acting out on purpose, smacking his lips and chewing loudly, even eating her food off her plate (although invited to this is a very bold move) and, moreover, behaving a little too cavalier. These are two people who are not on the same page. And yet as soon as they leave said diner, their lives are turned upside down, together. A traffic stop turns into a self-defense killing. She’s even shot in the melee (though this is somehow not taken very seriously). In spite of the large wound across her leg, she insists they must flee and they’ve got to do it right now.

They know (and we know) this story doesn’t end well for them. What’s done is done. This is America. So, Instead of turning on each other, these near perfect strangers, band together and run. We watch a love story in reverse. They protect each other first then learn to love each other later. Now that premise alone is entirely delightful. It taps into my romantic notions of emotionally complicated people learning to love the crazy in someone else. Plus, it is so anti-authority and overdue to have some retributive justice paid to the police. Why not watch these gorgeous black people inflict some hurt onto the failed institution that is policing in our country?

And, again, this film starts so strong. This all happens in the first 7-10 minutes. We are on their side right away. Yes, he killed someone but this cop certainly would’ve killed him. You can judge their decision to skip town as harshly as you choose to, but I got it. Inertia would mean certain death. So in place of a firm plan, they go. And on their journey we encounter a cast of characters that doesn’t always push the story forward. In fact, I don’t know if I loved any of the characters they come across. The first person who offers help to our protagonists winds up in the trunk of a car which was too bad because I rather liked what he contributed to the story. After that, a greasy-haired white gas station attendant successfully gets Daniel Kaluuya’s charcter’s gun in his hands and playfully (I guess) points it at his head. It’s an unnecessary tension. We know he won’t kill him (we have another 90 minutes of movie left!). And, it makes Daniel Kaluuya‘s character seem stupid in a way that isn’t supported by any other information we know about him. He’s a little naive, you could argue, but he’s not dumb. And I would be willing to let those things slide if it didn’t seem to be such a pattern with the introduction of characters. That leads us to my largest issue with the whole film, the protest scene.

Now, with all due respect, what in the world was that protest scene about? It is, for whatever reason, spliced together with the first (and only) love scene of the film. We’ve been waiting patiently for some tenderness, more specifically, for something romantic to finally happen for our main characters. We’ve endured their constant running for their lives and it feels only fair that they get to enjoy their lives, and each other, before the cops eventually pay them back for killing their brother in blue. So, it made absolutely no narrative sense nor, if the filmmakers were going for a larger political theme here, thematic sense to put that love making scene together with aforementioned protest scene. Up until then, I was on board with all editing decisions. But this one simply won’t stand! Their sex scene is passionate and a little dirty (read: fun!). And the whole thing goes down in a baby blue Pontiac Catalina that is absolutely stunning (read: even better). The car alone makes the colors in the frame mesmerizing. Plus, these actors are so nice to look at I simply could not complain. Plus, I appreciated that there were no rose petals or champagne. This was not a pretty, or safe, or delicate love scene. These are two people who have been growing closer and closer to each other and have been so afraid to let their guards down. So when they finally get intimate you can feel their longing. Clothes are flying. The kisses are sloppy. Basically, this is a good old-fashioned good time. So, with all of that being said, why, oh why, would you interject the murdering of a cop in this one moment of romantic passion? The film has been building to our leads getting together. They deserved their moment. Uninterrupted.

Now that was a lot of criticism for a movie that I said was nearly excellent. And that’s fair. So allow me to now herald the film’s strengths because they overshadow the weaknesses that, while few, are distracting.

What this film does well, very well in fact, is depict a complicated circumstance compounded by the complicated reality of being black in America. We don’t see these stories often (or ever). We’ve seen stories about the trauma of slavery, the Civil Rights era, shootings. But we don’t see the subtle stories of racial violence and we rarely see the capacity black people have to love in spite of it all. So “Queen & Slim” is the first of its kind. The police brutality love story. That sounds like a crude oversimplification but this is a story worth watching. And because it is such a new storyform, we are bearing witness to a truly original film. So, naturally, as is the case with all new things, there are some wrinkles to iron out (which I’ve already gone on and on about, dont @ me). But the larger message is one to pay attention to. Black people are being allowed the space here to screw up and still fall in love. Perhaps not a revolutionary concept for you. But to me, this marks this movie as an instant classic. There will be copycats. Remember that this was the first.

Black people in film are rarely afforded the same frivolity and silliness as white characters are. There’s no black version of Ross and Rachel getting married in Vegas. There’s no black “What Happens in Vegas”. I realize now that all of my examples happen in Las Vegas... But let’s go with it. Las Vegas, the hotbed of bad decisions and overindulgence, has largely been depicted as the white person’s playground. That’s not true in real life. Vegas, if nothing else, caters to everybody’s bad decisions. So why don’t we see that on screen? I don’t know. White executives are simply out of touch comes to mind. But what also comes to mind is the larger responsibility black people carry from childhood on. Black kids are punished harsher. They’re given less strikes. So, their lives and, thus, their art don’t often get to be as free from the weight of the world. They don’t get the reckless Crazy Beautiful moment. What a delight it was to see the lead characters be free in this film. It struck me that they were totally free in light (and perhaps because) of the murder of that cop. Somewhere in the back of their mind they were unburdened by responsibility because they were already dead. How tragically beautiful.

So, in spite of my criticism of the plot and editing, know that this film already occupies a special place in my heart. I’m a grown-up. I can love something and see its faults. Isn’t love about accepting something (someone) in spite of their faults? Isn’t that what we witness with Kaluuya and Turner-Smith’s characters in the end?

And that leads me to the final reason the film is not entirely excellent and the most controversial reason of all: it doesn’t have to be.

Nope. It doesn’t owe you excellence. Just like black people do not have to be excellent to exist in this country. It is not my own idea. It’s an idea thrown out in the first act of the film. Kaluuya’s character retorts to Turner-Smith, “Why do black people feel the need to be excellent...[why can’t they just] be themselves?” And with that, I rest my case.

This film is not entirely excellent because excellent is just another standard, another loop to jump through. Black art doesn’t have to prove anything. This film just is. It is important and honest and deserves to exist.

#queen & slim #queen and slim #lena waithe #melina matsoukas #daniel kaluuya #jodie turner smith

83 notes · View notes

desktopdust · 4 years

Text

Scrapped Shooting Star Sonia Ideas

After over five years of work, the Shooting Star Sonia series is officially over. Initially I had ideas for it to run a bit longer, but after experiencing some burnout while writing Red Joker I felt it would be best to wrap things up in Event Horizon. Of course, once I get an idea I have a compulsive need to talk about it, so detailed here are my original plans for anyone who might be curious.

Event Horizon itself didn’t change all that much. Information would still be provided about the MBN cores, though perhaps not quite everything; Sirius would have had the xarium rather than Blitzar, so there’d be no Rogue Xa yet and Solo would take the metal back at the end. Naturally, the ending is where the biggest change occurred: originally, someone from Planet XM would express interest in continuing to have Sonia and friends test the Meteor Breaker Numbers, and give them one year to prepare before the experiments begin in earnest. How ominous! Everyone would realize they need to get stronger, and to facilitate that, Sonia would use the EM Compatibility Tuner to interface with the Rosetta Compiler, becoming the new Administrator of the Black Hole Server.

Next thing I wanted to do was actually a super short side story, the obligatory Boktai crossover. More specifically Boktai DS/Lunar Knights, since that’s the one that did a crossover with SF1. Though I never did get into Boktai proper, I always found it neat that Battle Network and Star Force had these ongoing crossovers, and I wanted to keep it going. It was a very basic idea: Sabata ends up in the SF universe and gets possessed by an FM-ian (I believe I was thinking Vulpecula?), so Django follows and teams up with Sonia to stop him. No one would be showing off their new powers here, it’d be too soon for that, but there’d probably be hints.

The main event would’ve been Shooting Star Sonia 4: Rosetta Orbit. (A Rosetta orbit occurs when an object is moving fast enough to not be sucked into a black hole, but not fast enough to entirely escape its pull.) A year has passed, and so Planet XM begins dispatching a series of Meteor Breaker Numbers for Sonia to fight. I thought the major bosses all being on par with previous final bosses would be a cool way to raise the stakes, and I went with two themes when designing them: the seasons of the year, and other Mega Man series. For instance, the first MBN to appear would have been Vernal Ronin, a skeletal samurai robot meant to evoke Mega Man Legends (it’d look Reaverbot-esque, it’d been observing the heroes from the moon for some time now) and spring (“vernal” means spring, samurai are associated with cherry blossoms which only bloom in spring). I also wanted each MBN to be accompanied by an XM-ian who had some sort of reference to the Roll of the respective Mega Man series, though I had done less work on that. (Vernal Ronin would have been overseen by Cophin, an excitable engineer.) The other MBNs were Estival Rampart (summer, ZX), Autumnal Specter (autumn, Zero), and Brumal Transgressor (winter, X), with a recurring boss in the form of an XM-ian named Aeim who fought by operating a separate entity named Solstice_Harbinger.XM (EXE). Ultimately, the gang heads to Planet XM to find the newest MBN, the Equinox, which has been enhanced with all the data gathered over the course of the story and resembles the Yellow Devil from Classic.

On to transformations, Solo would obviously unveil Rogue Xa at this point, and I liked the idea of Geo working with the Sages of AM and WAZA to merge the Star Forces into a single, absurdly powerful form inspired visually by the unused concept art for an Angel Tribe On. With Geo and Sonia no longer needing the Ace and Joker Programs, I thought it would make sense to pass them on--have Bud take the Joker Program and Luna take the Ace Program. Sad to say I never got to the point of designing these forms, but I think it would’ve been fun. Also, I was contemplating the idea of Zack operating Magnes similar to a Net Navi, probably also developing a way for him to enter a controlled version of his Spade Magnes form; I wanted him to be involved and this seemed like an easy way to do it. There was also the possibility of Jack wanting to help and becoming a new iteration of Acid Ace, but I didn’t come to a decision on that. Other than that...I think Shepar was also going to have a way to temporarily take on the form of Chalice Libra? Everyone else was kind of on their own.

Now then, Sonia...as I said, she’d be drawing power from the Black Hole Server, which is powered by Adha. The last time she used this energy to transform was when she held the OOPArts, and I wanted to tie back into that. So, similarly to then, Sonia would draw on the Black Hole Server using the EM Compatibility Tuner, and then use the power of her Brother Bands to get it under control. These forms, called Orbits, would change her appearance and abilities to be similar to the Wave Form of the specific Brother she’s calling on at the time, probably with some design elements from Sirius thrown in. I wanted one for each element and was planning Luna Orbit, Bud Orbit, and Claude Orbit...but was at a loss for an Elec form. Since Gemini didn’t stick around I didn’t think giving her a Pat Orbit would be a good idea, and Couronne doesn’t have a Hunter and thus can’t make a formal Brother Band. I could’ve ignored that restriction, or found a way to justify her Band with Zack giving her a Magnes-based form, but nothing was ever decided on. However, just like with the OOPArts, this power would have sometimes run wild, causing Sonia to enter a berserk state and forcing one of her allies to hit her with her elemental weakness to shock her out of the form. For this reason, she would exclusively stick to forms that have elements...until the final boss. The Equinox would adapt throughout the fight and develop ways to counter all four elements, so with no choice, Sonia would use Geo Orbit to get a form combining Mega Man’s powers with her own, defeating the Equinox and saving the day. Then, she goes berserk. Her friends would find a way to calm her down eventually, of course, but this would sort of make Sonia the true final boss and I thought that was kinda neat.

So, with the pinnacle of the MBN Program destroyed, the XM-ians would be kind of freaking out--here’s where we’d get the full story of the origin of the program, and how it was originally meant to protect Planet XM in case a certain angry god ever showed up. Sonia being Sonia, she’d say that if anything happens, she’ll protect them. The XM-ians are moved by her kindness, and decide that maybe they should stop building war machines after all. After that, there were two more small things I wanted to do, either as two short stories (4.5 and 4.55, I think?) or as two Epilogues for RO. Firstly, that thing Planet XM is so afraid of would show up, and what do you know, it’s Duo.EXE! When I was planning for Red Joker I remembered how, leading up to SF3’s release, there were a bunch of theories that Meteor G had some connection to Duo, and I wanted to do something with that. The ultimate story then (and this holds true to an extent for the final product as well) is that Duo’s violence in the name of “justice” only spread pain and fear, which led to the XM-ians developing the MBN cores to fight against him, which only led to more pain and fear through their own actions as well as through the cores ending up in others’ hands. It’s an ongoing cycle of violence that is only broken when Sonia steps in to convince people to try a peaceful solution. Capping it off with Sonia the idealist versus Duo the extremist, probably resulting in Sonia helping Duo to grow beyond his programming and be more productive than destructive, seemed like a fitting, fun way to go. After that, I just wanted to have one last fight between Sonia and Solo--Geo Orbit Harp Note vs Rogue Xa in deep space to finally settle their rivalry! I didn’t decide a result, but it definitely would’ve involved Solo properly opening up and telling Sonia he respects her and all that.

(Also a very specific joke I wanted to use in RO and couldn’t find a good place to integrate into this post: when the head of the MBN Program is explaining it to Sonia, she’d say they still have MBN-001 through 008 on display, but only have records for MBN-010 and up. Sonia asks about MBN-009, and her guide scowls and says “We don’t talk about number 9.” You know, referencing the other Mega Man.)

(And, there is one other idea I had, a spin-off to shift to after resolving the history of the MBN cores, but it’s detached enough that I think I can turn it into a standalone story in the future so I want to hold onto it for now. Probably best I take a break from writing Star Force for the time being, but I really like the character designs I thought up for this one, so one day, I hope to put them to use.)

Once again, I want to thank you all for your interest in Shooting Star Sonia--I hope I was able to entertain you! It was a bit rocky at times, but in the end, I’m glad I embarked on this journey, and I’m eager to get to work on a new one. Until next time.

#Shooting Star Sonia

4 notes · View notes

carringtonblackwood · 4 years

Text

Two Vampires Walk Into a Theater || Cari & Dewey

Carrington and Dewey meet up for the first time. Things... don’t go as planned.

Takes place during the last POTW, and before any current interactions.

@deweythedew

Dewey could scarcely recall a time he felt so completely, utterly… human. If it hadn’t ceased beating ages ago, his heart would be hammering against it’s encasing of ribs, sure to burst free from his chest at any moment. He had met quite a few in White Crest whom he found agreeable, both young and old, local and foreign. He enjoyed engaging with new people - it opened up the opportunity to learn new facts and stories and generally make the ordeal of living forever bearable. And yet, the longer he talked with Carrington, he was immediately brought back to the days of his youth. All that growth and knowledge he amassed over the decades almost seemed to vanish when he thought of meeting the other in person. Someone so similar to himself and, but just distinct enough that it gave him pause and caused his throat to tighten in that inexplicably embarrassing manner. He glanced up at the faded, illuminated billboard above his head before huffing rather heavily. Was he too early? Did he look alright? Smell alright? Oh God, when was the last time he had a sensation so similar to a stomach ache? Despite how odd it may have appeared, he placed the index and middle fingers of each hand to his temple, beginning to count down from ten whilst tapping against his cold skin. Breathe. Even if you don’t need to, just breathe.

Carrington hadn’t done this in… a literal age. What had it been? Fifty years? Longer? Was this even… that? How did he know for sure? It felt like it. As best he could remember. And it also felt… normal. If that was even a concept anymore. Carrington’s ‘normal’ was hardly what anyone else would consider as such. Just last week he’d been in an altercation with a Hunter in one of the local cemeteries. Granted, they had a long history of… not killing one another, but the fact remained that it was a far cry from tonight. Though Carrington found he much preferred tonight. Despite his insecurities. If his heart has been capable, it would have been beating a rapid stacatto against his chest. His palms would likely have been sweaty. He felt a bit like he couldn’t breathe, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t needed. Christ Almighty, but he needed to pull himself together. He was four-hundred years old, for God’s sake. He could handle meeting someone for a movie and drinks.

Worrying the ring he wore on his right hand, Carrington took a steadying breath (again, out of habit of trying to appear human) and pressed on. When he saw someone that matched Dewey’s description, though it was only his back he could see currently, Carrington swallowed. “Am I late?” he said as he drew closer, pressing a smile over the nervousness he felt. “Dewey, I hope? Else this might be a bit awkward.”

3… 2… 1

Dewey finally lowered his hands, blowing a steady stream of air past pursed lips. The action hadn’t completely done away with his anxiety, but it certainly helped him feel at least a portion calmer than he was previously. This was going to be fine. It was two gentlemen with common interests, going to see a movie, and then potentially drinking wine at one of their abodes later in the evening. Normal. These were actions normal people engaged in. The more he reminded himself of that fact, the better off he would surely be. Or, at the very least, he could dampen down on the rising urge to turn tail and drum up an excuse at the last minute.

As though the idea of bailing on the entire evening was a summoning spell of some sort, he heard the tell-tale footfalls of someone approaching him from the rear. His throat tensed, and he had to focus the muscles to unbind themselves. Relax. Exhaling, he swiftly - or, he hoped it wasn’t too swift - turned to face the other, and found all the work gone into easing himself down come to pieces. Good Lord, he was… well, handsome seemed to be a disservice. Charming was a given - the moment he heard his voice, a shiver had rippled through him. It was a voice he had somehow imagined when picking up a romance novel, dictating the gallant hero a rich but smooth vocal performance, and oozing with tenderness. Like a dream. Dreamy? He’d heard that term before, some years back but, still it seemed appropriate. Wait, he hadn’t said anything in response - Damn it! “Yes, yes that would be me,” He rushed out, only taking a few steps forward as he extended a hand. He hoped to whatever entity might be benevolent enough to hear him that he didn’t appear too eager. That the smile on his features didn’t stretch too wide. No teeth were shown - he loathed to smile with his teeth - but it was still genuine. “Dewey Foster, at your service. And not late at all - right on time, actually. The movie doesn’t begin in another fifteen minutes,”

Carrington had made a habit out of taking in the details of another person when he first met them. The way they moved, the way they spoke, the way they smelled. The sound of their breathing and their heartbeat. Their features and any small eccentricities of habit they might possess. Details that had saved his life many times, and even when he wasn’t truly concerned for his personal safety, old habits die hard.

Before his companion for the evening could turn around, Carrington had noted two things. The first was the slight lingering scent of blood, but not human blood. Something far richer, though he couldn’t quite place it. The second was that the man had no heartbeat of his own. Carrington’s features tightened just a bit, but only with what could be considered a hopeful curiosity. He’d met one or two others like himself since coming to town, but so far had been greatly disappointed. When Dewey - thank God he hadn’t walked up to the wrong person; that would’ve been embarrassing - turned after Carrington spoke, even the idea that the other man might be a vampire too was squashed under the jolt that sliced through Carrington’s chest. A jolt so quick and visceral that he very nearly stumbled.

It was like looking at a doppleganger. Not of himself, but of someone he’d once known. Someone he’d once cared for very, very much. Carrington knew his shock must have played across his face, but he truly couldn’t help himself. Not when the man before him was so… striking wasn’t the word Carrington would’ve chosen - it didn’t do the other man justice at all - but it was the first that came to mind. As Carrington shook his hand - the coolness of his touch barely registering at the moment - he felt his tightly reined control slip briefly. A pleased smile slowly spread across his face, one that reached his eyes after a moment. “Hi…” It was a small, almost breathless sound. One that Carrington would’ve flushed red for making, had he been able to blush. “Carrington. Blackwood. It’s a pleasure, Dewey.” He held the handshake a moment longer than was probably proper, before huffing a small laugh and glancing at the marquee. Though his gaze was drawn back to the other man before he could help himself. This was normal, right? When you first met someone that-

When you first met someone.

Carrington shook his head at himself. “I have to confess… I have no idea what’s playing.”

The expressions that seemed to play like a cinema of its own across the other's features took Dewey by surprise. He hadn't expected someone - never encountered someone to view him in such a... fascinated? No, no, there was another level to the stare he was receiving. Almost... familiar? And a hopefulness that couldn't be denied beneath even that, something that brightened Carrington's expression so brilliantly, and Dewey felt the overwhelming urge to turn away as though he wasn't worthy enough to behold it. He truly was dashing.

And then they shook hands.

He should have sensed it before then. His hearing should have picked up on the lack of a thrum inside of his chest. Or he should have scented a hint of blood that didn't quite sit right within him; almost a staleness. But, when Dewey felt Carrington slip his fingers into his palm, expecting a pointed warmth reminiscent of a heating blanket in contrast to his own icy skin, and felt... the exact opposite. There was no contrast. The smile on his features flickered, a wave of devastated realization crashing over him in a smothering wave. Not even Carrington's airy greeting could pull him up from under it.

Of bloody course he was a vampire.

A pleasure. A pleasure? As though the feeling of being enamoured was a long forgotten memory, Dewey had to physically halt himself from snatching his hand back, but it did drop a bit from the other's grasp before falling limply to his side. His features were tense, still smiling, but held a distinct hesitance. Inside of his mouth, the ache of his fangs attempting to push themselves free of his gums throbbed, and his throat stung with a hiss he wouldn't allow to break the seal his lips. He could have just as easily allowed those initial instincts to take over, to tackle the other to the ground and uselessly throttle him just to vent frustration over his own ineptitude. But he wouldn't.

Or was it that he couldn't? No. He was... he would try to be stronger than that. It was one night. And then they would never have to see each other again. Seemingly coming back to himself after what felt eerily like an out-of-body experience, Dewey swallowed thickly. "Well, after sifting through the titles, and the ratings, of course, I eventually settled on 'The Invisible Man'," His smile widened just a fraction, "Nothing like a remastered classic thriller, right? After you?"

And there it was. Subtle, of course. Practiced. Executed with either experience or sheer force of will. Or perhaps both. The flicker of expression, the physical hesitation so brief Carrington might have imagined it, if he hadn’t been wired to expect it. As always. Even from his own kind. Especially from his own kind.

So Carrington felt a devastation all his own, like being doused in ice water, and he was reminded quite viscerally why these things never worked. Why he’d stopped pursuing them at all over half a century ago. One brief lifetime spent in relative happiness was apparently all he was going to be allotted in his time on this earth. Perhaps he should simply continue to be grateful for what he’d had - for what he missed every single day - and let that be the end of it. He should simply stop seeking anything other than what he already had, which was minimal in terms of people he could call friend. He should be grateful for the time he’d been given.

But at the moment he found it hard to be grateful for much of anything. In fact, he found it cruel to be met with a face that held such familiarity, yet none at all. There was no glint of mischief in the others dark eyes, no curious tilt of his head, no easy smirk. The longer he looked, the more he noticed the subtle differences, but also how those differences paled in comparison to the similarities.

Carrington felt no prickle of fangs, no hatred or loathing, no desire to harm or even raise his voice at the other man. It wasn’t his fault. Yet neither was it Carrington’s. Though it appeared the good doctor might not be as unbiased as he’d seemed online. Also not his fault, especially when so abruptly faced with something so unexpected, and seemingly unwanted. But it was also not something Carrington was going to immediately assume. Not unless he wanted to become a hypocrite, which he didn’t. In the time it took for all this to pass through his mind, his own expression flickered as well. His smile dimmed, as did the brightness in his eyes. But barely. Like putting a subtle filter over a photograph. Something had changed from the original, but it was hard to say exactly what it was. He’d had such high hopes for tonight, if only in gaining a friend, and nothing else.

Still, Carrington internally pulled himself together, pushing down the frustration and the disappointment and the self-pitying nonsense that threatened to rise up and overwhelm him, and pressed the smile back onto his face. “Well, it’s an excellent choice. The classics never let us down, do they?” His gaze lingered briefly on the other mans face, and though his smile never wavered, something a bit like resignation flickered on Carrington’s eyes. “Unlike so many other things.” Unlike himself, it seemed. But he preceded Dewey into the theater, and they found seats quite easily, since they were apparently the only ones seeing the film that evening. Another lovely twist of fate, it seemed.

Ah. He’d caught that. And for a moment, Dewey felt a pang of sorts dead center in his chest. Not exactly stake-wound worthy, but enough of a sting that gave him pause. He knew he couldn’t be subtle around other vampires. Heart on his throat, wasn’t that the way one had put it? He had tried to learn over the years, to steady his features into the right expressions, to put a cork on the overflowing bottle that housed his emotions. Even before turning, he had always been overly passionate, and though that had dulled around most, if not everyone he met, a broiling kettle would always be whistling beneath the surface.

But… this feeling. This particular one. It was shame. He knew it too well. Oh, those words, that look, unwavering and yet-- It didn’t break, but Dewey could have sworn he felt a crack form around his heart. Immediate and swift. It wasn’t fair, he realized. To either of them. When Carrington moved forward, his shoulders sagged and he seemed to hesitate in following after him.

Part of him almost wanted to order something from the concession, still keep up the pretense that they were both normal young men, simply enjoying a film together. But the thought quickly gave him the ghost of what would have been indigestion. That would have been a slap in the face, and no, he still couldn’t entirely shove past his own inhibitions, but he was a gentleman at heart. He… he was trying. Even when realizing their theater was empty.

Well, wasn’t that just swell? Dewey had at least anticipated a few other movie goers to be in attendance. Though, with White Crest, one could never tell if a place was going to be vacant or otherwise bustling with people. The town was strange in that way. A strangeness that, on any other occasion he might have found charming, betrayed him heavily tonight. It didn’t matter. Crowd or not, there was no shifting from the tone of the evening; awkward and tense, at least on his part. He forced himself to look up at Carrington from behind long lashes, Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. “Do you have a preference for seating? I really don’t mind anywhere.”

Carrington understood Dewey’s reticence. Even though they didn’t know each other, it was something his kind - their kind, he reminded himself - usually developed in spades if they wanted to survive. Though it may have been leftover from when he was human, as so much of Carrington’s was. He’d once been angry and bitter, and in those first years - so long ago now - he had even felt a strange sense of hatred for others like himself. But that feeling ebbed with time and experience. He was no monster, like many chose to see him. He was no rabid killer of innocents, no bloodthirsty fiend just waiting to descend upon the unexpecting and the unwilling, no desperate parasite waiting to take what was not freely given.

He refused to be what the world expected him to be. He was himself, as he’d always been, give or take 400 years and a few… eccentricities. But it was times such as this that he wondered, however briefly, if it was really worth it. Playing the game day after day, decade after decade, century after century. To what purpose? Survival? Ridding the world of the supernatural hunters that saw his species and so many more as nothing but another red dash in their ledger? Especially when so many of his kind looked at him with fear or loathing. Both hidden and otherwise.

But regardless, Carrington appreciated the effort Dewey seemed to put forward. At least he didn’t turn and leave Carrington standing alone on the street. He even followed into the - of course - empty theater. But perhaps others would come in after a bit. Carrington glanced around as seating was mentioned. “The back is usually where I find myself. Let’s me see everything.” Like someone that might want to stab him in the back, quite literally.

They eventually chose seats, and there was a bit of silence between them as a few advertisements rolled across the screen. “It’s alright, by the way. If you’d rather go,” Carrington said after a bit. His voice was purposefully neutral, and though it might have hinted at disappointment and resignation if one knew what to listen for, it wasn’t unkind. What was unkind was to expect Dewey to stay if he didn’t wish to. “I’m not exactly what most people expect.”

“That sounds fine, then,” Not surprising, as Dewey preferred to stay closer to the back as well. If not there, then the corners of the theater. Made for a quick getaway in case he felt even marginally unsafe, from an outside threat or… something else. The silence that followed their choosing seemed almost deafening, even with the audio going on in the background. No amount could break through the unease he felt, though he tried to force his body to relax into his chair. And then Carrington spoke, and Dewey couldn’t help the way his head whipped around to face the other, features showcasing mild surprise.

So they were past tiptoeing around the subject. That was fast. Though Dewey did appreciate the honesty, at least in part because it allowed himself to be at least a little truthful in return. And while it might not have been what Carrington wanted to hear, he at least deserved an explanation of some sort.

“No, you’re not,” He began, resting his chin atop a loosely clasped fist, “Most men aren’t as devastatingly handsome or charming,” The last part was said a bit low, as if uttering the obvious would somehow be a crime all its own. He didn’t look directly at the other, though he kept his gaze focused on the crease of his pant leg. Something to anchor him for what he uttered next.

“I don’t want to leave. I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting… Well, you know. And it’s difficult for me to just accept it. But, that’s all on me. It really has nothing to do with you at all. I know that doesn’t really help, though,” His gaze rose to take in the profile of his abdomen; focus. “You were surprised when you first saw me. Was it… because you knew, too?”

Unless it was something he didn’t wish to talk about, or something that required tact or kid gloves, Carrington was usually one to get right to the point of the matter. He knew they were both aware of what the other was, and they had both clearly reacted in a way that left several question marks hanging between them. Which is partly why he gave Dewey an easy out if he wanted. But also because it was the decent thing to do.

But he could also feel the tension and unease radiating from the other vampire as they sat in silence. So it was a combination of all those things that moved him to speak. He glanced aside as Dewey turned to look at him, but glanced away a moment later, the other mans face once again entirely too familiar. Carrington wasn’t sure what he expected Dewey to say, if anything. But when he did speak, the words surprised Carrington so much that he let out a soft, short huff of laughter. It was a bit wry, but genuine. “Well, the sentiment is certainly appreciated. And most definitely returned.” A small glance flickered his way, but was gone again just as quickly.

Which was perhaps a good thing, as Carrington’s expression briefly registered his surprise when Dewey said he didn’t want to leave. Alright then. That was something. Carrington nodded as Dewey explained a bit more about his hesitation, thumb slowly worrying the ring on his right hand. “It’s understandable,” Carrington reassured him. And it was. Perfectly. “And I don’t take offense easily.” Another small huff, though this time it was mostly a faint smile instead of laughter, followed Deweys last question. “Um… no. Well, not entirely. I’m honestly almost always glad to meet someone like myself. Especially if they seem so... agreeable.” As Dewey obviously had. Did. Had?

“No… um…” Another huff and a slightly embarrassed smile. “-you reminded me of someone. Someone I knew a long time ago.” He frowned a bit, but pushed it aside as he finally turned to look at the other man again. “Its uncanny, really. And I was… taken off guard. For that I apologize.”

Understandable. But not acceptable. Not when the other had been nothing but congenial and sweet towards him. And still continued to be so, even with Dewey’s half-assed explanation of why he reacted in such a terribly rude manner. Nothing had been said on his part, but it still felt as though he’d told Carrington to ‘Fuck off’ in the subtlest of ways.

Hearing him say he was glad to meet someone like himself only caused the guilt to grow, and spread, filling him up until he felt close to overflowing as the other continued on. To look upon a face and find it familiar never turned out to be a pleasant experience in Dewey’s life. It was almost always of a person who had either ceased to be, or had chosen to leave his life for one or absolutely no reason. He was reminded of the hopefulness in Carrington’s gaze, and that alone was beginning to solidify that whoever he was reminiscent of, it must have been someone dear to the other vampire.

“Then you have nothing to apologize for. In fact, it should be myself… I could sit here and give you a number of excuses as to my behavior, but none of them would rectify the situation,” Inhaling slowly, he turned an earnest gaze to Carrington, attempting to capture his eyes. He’d spent so long denying himself out of some misplaced sense of punishment. Tonight had been a breakthrough, and he had nearly ruined it all with one handshake. Nearly. “Can I… can we start over? I-I mean, I know I can’t…” He huffed in obvious frustration, eyes slipping shut for a beat, before they opened, a gentle, tentative smile spreading onto his features. “Can you forgive me? I really would like to… have a nice evening with a potential companion,”

Carrington was fairly even-tempered most of the time. He saw no point in yelling or causing a scene, and taking the risk of making oneself look foolish or hypocritical. Or harming someone on accident, physically or otherwise. It was a lesson learned through trial and error. Through decades of self-discipline that had once bordered on obsessive, along with hours of prayer at masses that left his skin raw and itching and his soul no less troubled. And if he were honest, when it came to how he’d been treated in the past, Dewey’s reactions were almost a balm, in their own way.

As was his oh-so familiar face. A face that was a reminder of the best and worst memories of Carrington’s existence. Of the only person he had ever let himself love, and losing that love to some wasting fucking disease that he could’ve circumvented with but a word. But that was along time ago. A very long time. And it wouldn’t be fair of Carrington to equate Dewey with a man 200 years dead. Or anyone else for that matter.

Carrington’s own sense of guilt threatened to consume him, wondering if it would only make things worse to have confessed the reason for his surprise. So when it didn’t, Carrington felt the slightest bit of tension ease from his shoulders. He kept his eyes on Dewey as he spoke quite earnestly, and while he didn’t think there was anything to apologize for, Carrington knew that sometimes accepting that apology - needed or not - was one of the most important things one could do. It could make the difference between a fresh start or a messy end.

Tonight was a first for Carrington as well. A step out of his self-isolation that had just seemed… easier for the last…. Christ but he’d lost count of the years. He’d done better recently, reaching out to others, some by chance - such as Arthur and his cozy-covered tortoises - other voluntarily - like Nadia, with her missing time - but this seemed like a different sort of reaching out.

So there was no way Carrington could deny the offer of simply starting over now they both seemed to have a better… grasp on the situation. As it were. “Of course.” He tried not to let himself be too hopeful. It could all still go to shit, obviously. But he couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. It flickered with the barest hint of concern as Dewey closed his eyes in frustration, and Carrington had to close his hand around the armrest to keep from reaching out, but when the other man’s smile returned, so did Carrington’s.

He couldn’t help but hold Dewey’s gaze, blue eyes on his dark ones. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said, swallowing slowly. “And so would I. I’d… I’d like that very much.”

I’d like that very much. It had to be purely illegal for a few simple words to touch a part of his being so tenderly. Dewey had held so many reservations, as well as hopes for the night. So many insecurities about his personal hang ups that he’d thought and re-thought calling the whole thing off so many times it was perfectly ridiculous. That would have been easier. Denying that he wanted to keep another’s company, and so shutting down all potential outings solidified that fact. But he had already proven that ‘fact’ as false with Regan, happily taking her up on the offer for dinner. He couldn’t pretend any longer. He yearned for that companionship.

And Carrington, so it seemed, was also keen on giving the night a second chance. Much to Dewey’s immense relief. Pre-programming himself for rejection meant he had to pick and choose where he placed his hopefulness, but he had allowed it to flourish this time, and wasn’t let down. Now they were there, no barriers, pure honesty, and Dewey would have flushed due to how emotionally nude he felt in the moment. But in the openness of it all, there was a sense of calm.

He worried his bottom lip a tad before finally breaking their gaze, though the ghost of a smile still lingered on his mouth. When he glanced over to the screen, the beginning of the movie was just beginning to play. And in that moment, Dewey realized he didn’t really care about how the film ended or began. Once again he turned to Carrington, leaning forward a bit in his chair. His fingers itched to brush against the other’s, or at least his knee, or some other part of him - to touch and watch as he turned towards him, feeling a shiver of excitement rush through his frame. “I… Do you want to… W-what I mean to say is…”

For the love of Christ, why couldn’t he speak English? “... Do you want to get out of here? Perhaps make good on seeing those orchids of yours a bit earlier?” Dewey’s voice was low, hesitant, but with a conspiratorial edge, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smirk. Please, please don’t let him make a fool of himself…

Why not be honest? There was a time and a place for subterfuge and/or omission, but this wasn’t it. This wasn’t life or death - though Carrington felt a bit like he might die of nervousness in the interim, though he didn’t show it much outwardly - but it was important. Both for himself and for Dewey. For reasons both shared and unique. Reasons that hadn’t all been revealed so far tonight, but Carrington didn’t expect that. He hadn’t had any expectations at all, so if it went badly he wouldn’t be disappointed. Though he had been on the verge of it, if he were honest, at least until now. Until it seemed that the evening was taking a much more pleasant turn.

Because what was the point of having all this life ahead of him if he didn’t do something with it? The experiences he’d had since coming to town had only fueled that desire to find companionship, be it friendship or otherwise. Though Carrington was quite aware he could be acerbic at times, pig-headed at others, and downright nasty on a case by case basis. Though he saved that particular part of himself for those that deserved it. For the ones that sought to harm him and his kin, and other innocents. Not for people like Dewey. People he wanted to get to know better. And perhaps even spend more time with after tonight.

So as the film started, Carrington also found he didn’t care much about it. He’d seen it. Knew the beginning and the end. The middle. He knew he wouldnt be able to focus, not now that the ice that had coated the space between them at first was melting. So when Dewey seemed of the same mind, Carrington glanced at him. The tone of his voice, and the easy smirk that seemed to transform his entire countenance was all it took for Carrington to agree. He would’ve flushed a bit of he could, but instead gave a small breath of a laugh. He tried to form a witty retort, or something humorous, but his mind betrayed him at that moment. He could only nod and give a low, warm, “Yes.”

And that was all the answer Dewey needed. “Grand,” His own voice echoed an almost giddy relief, the doctor already on the edge of his seat. Forgoing asking permission, his hand found Carrington’s and if allowed, would gently tug him up as he stood as well. Inhibitions be damned, they were going to enjoy tonight. And not watching a movie that he already knew he wouldn’t find the least iota entertaining. Though steady, his gait was a bit speedy, and in the light-headed rush of vacating the theater he nearly bumped into another couple that was simultaneously entering. “Pardon us,” He chuckled out and, once they were behind, tossed Carrington an anxious smile that showcased his teeth before quickly looking forward again.

Once they were outside, he finally released the other’s hand and blew out an exhale, fingers running through his hair. “Thank God. I really wasn’t sure what I’d do if you said you actually wanted to see that… atrocity,” Likely do so and pretend that he was interested, simply for the other’s sake. “The night’s far too beautiful to spend it in a stuffy theater,” Though he would have argued that it wasn’t the dusk that drew a near permanent smile onto his features. No, not the evening at all.

Carrington tilted his head at Dewey’s relief. He was about to comment when the other man slipped his hand into Carrington’s and pulled him up and out of the theater. Carrington felt a small rush of… something… in the pit of his stomach, and felt himself grin as they dipped past the others coming in as they left. “Pardon,” he murmured as well, before he turned his own crooked grin towards Dewey.

They made it outside, and once Dewey had released his hand - which had been a utterly pleasant sensation all it’s own - Carrington also took a breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve seen it. More than once,” Carrington laughed wryly. “I don’t think it’s changed much. But I’m certainly not complaining.” Being out in the cool evening was much nicer, and Carrington instantly felt less claustrophobic than in the theater. “And that it is.” He let his gaze linger for a moment, before he huffed quietly at himself and had to look away. He turned his eyes upwards, to the sky. It was dark and clear, and a few stars could be seen past the haze of fluorescent light from the theater and surrounding buildings. But his smile barely moved. “I’ve a rather nice view from my roof. Not as good as the one from the cliffs, but passable.”

“Have you now?” Called it. Though having the hunch confirmed made him feel considerably better about all but whisking them away into the night. His gaze still on the night sky above them, he felt a bit of a prickle along the edges of his skin. Was Carrington still looking at him? When he shifted to see, the blonde was peering up into the sky, and Dewey felt more than a tad silly about thinking that he would be looking solely at him. Of course he wouldn’t, that was… anyway. “I’m sure it’s still lovely,” He reassured, moving just an inch or two closer to the other, waiting for them to fall in step hesitantly. Exiting the movie theater had been one thing - he’d only initiated because Carrington had agreed. Being a leader could only come natural so many times before his usual submissiveness kicked in, and he was left a bit uncertain as they stood beneath the dim lights of the cinema. “It’s been quite some time since I appreciated a good view. Sad to say, I’m a bit of a recluse these days,”

“I have. I’m sure that’s a huge surprise,” he joked. And Carrington was still looking, just not directly. He was afraid it would be too much. Too overbearing. Too… everything. So he watched Dewey out of the corner of his eye as he looked up at the stars as well. But the view wasn’t half as lovely.

Carrington didn’t step away when Dewey moved closer. He did give a small tip of his head to indicate the way towards said home. “It is,” he nodded as the moved slowly forwards. “It’s a bit too close to others for my taste - at least in a more permanent sense - but I find the neighborhood… interesting.” He didn’t walk too fast, or tried not to, seeing as how his legs were rather long. Feeling a bit unsure what to do with his hands, Carrington hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, not wanting to appear like he was closing off by shoving his whole hand inside. He could still feel the weight of Dewey’s fingers against his, but tried not to think about it too much.

“Perhaps it’s time then. It’s been awhile since I’ve shared one. I’m not exactly the most social person myself.” Though Carrington had his reasons, as he was sure Dewey did. “Sorry about the walk… I um… haven’t purchased a car since I’ve been here. I keep meaning to but…” Carrington shook his head with a small laugh, knowing he was rambling. It wasn’t all that far, a few blocks maybe, to Carrington’s home. It was a moderately sized town house sitting between a few others on the same street. “Pardon my neighbor,” Carrington said quietly as they ascended the front steps. “She’s a bit nosy.” He raised his hand in greeting to the older woman smoking in the chair on her small patio. “Evening, Marge.” Marge waved back, and then waved at Dewey before going back to her Virginia Slims.

Carrington cleared his throat and gave Dewey an apologetic look as he opened the door and let them inside.

"Immensely," Dewey dragged out the word, nearly grinning, but secured his lips into a small smile before he could reveal a row of teeth. He had already performed one act of impulsive decision making. The last thing he needed to do now was appear too eager. That was an absolute turn off, he was certain, especially considering he was still trying to recover any more lingering pieces of their initial contact. Still, things seemed to be slowly falling back into a pleasant picture. They had the night ahead of them, and with no obligation to watch or do anything in particular, there were a number of ways it could go.

He could understand the notion of being too... crowded. Although his own abode wasn't exactly secluded, it afforded him enough space that he didn't feel too pressure to share any intimacies of his life with neighbors. Sure, some were a touch nosier than others, but he was decent at deflecting and cutting conversations short. If anyone called him uppity or just plain rude, then so be it. People would have their opinions about him no matter how he behaved. They certainly made plenty of assumptions due to his profession and mannerisms as it was. He'd become accustomed to the speculation. It was... kind of a game, of sorts.

"I believe it is," He agreed quietly, noting that while not every vampire shared the sentiment, most appreciated their solitude. Perhaps within even the most peppy of their species, there would always be an underlying urge to simply be alone. For one reason or another. "Please, that's the last thing you need to apologize for," He shouldn't be apologizing for a single thing. Dewey glanced at the other, muttering a bit coyly, "I could use the exercise."

As they walked up to Carrington's residence - a lovely town house, almost similar to Dewey's own bar from a few key differences - he tilted his head a bit in the direction of said neighbor, offering a cordial smile and a nod in return. Though the moment they stepped inside, he immediately brought a fist to his lips as a poorly stifled giggle rose in his throat. "I must say, I've been wondering about the infamous Marge you mentioned before. I can see what you meant by sprightly," His fingers loosened, though they stayed curled in front of his mouth, masking a toothy grin as he idly took in their surroundings.

Carrington could only laugh, swiping a hand through his hair as they walked. He didn’t bother to hide his own smile at this point, with the tension easing bit by bit into something far more relaxed. Not completely, as they were still both testing the waters, as it were, though neither seemed to want to mess things up. Carrington certainly didn’t. So he was glad for the conversation as they walked. For the time to sort his thoughts and try to maintain some sort of polite composure, and not let his enthusiasm get ahead of his good sense. Though it felt as if Dewey might be of the same mind. About more than just terribly boring movies.

Carrington had spent the majority of his adult life either completely alone or separated from the company of others by choice. It was simply better that way, especially in the time he’d come from and lived through. It became easier as the world became more populated and less superstitious, to move among the humans. To become like them - to become as he once was - as he still was in so many ways. His neighbors might have noted his unusual hours - Marge especially - but he always had a reason for such things. Work, insomnia, etc. No one asked too many questions these days, though Carrington had no doubt that come tomorrow the entire neighborhood would know he’d had a visitor that night. Thanks to his dear neighbor. Not that Carrington cared what anyone else knew or thought, as long as it didn’t bring harm to himself or anyone else.

He glanced aside at Dewey as they walked, the lazy grin on his face still holding strong. “Says the cardiologist,” he murmured in return, his own tone slightly teasing. They got past Marge with little difficulty, and Carrington shut the door behind them, pointedly flicking the deadbolt with a bit of stifled laughter of his own. He dropped his keys on the table by the door, and turned to watch Dewey for a moment as he surveyed the foyer. It wasn’t overly large, with a set of stairs leading to the second level directly ahead of them, and small rooms to the right and left. Straight back down the hall by the stairs was the kitchen. There were a few items here and there, and the place was uncluttered, but obviously lived in. “She is a gem,” he laughed quietly, but all thoughts of Marge soon drifted away as he continued to take in the other man’s profile.

Something stirred in Carrington’s chest. A nervous, fluttery sensation that would have sent him blushing if he’d been capable. Realizing he was staring, Carrington blinked himself back to right. “Do you want a drink?” he asked, stepping slowly closer, but not too close. Not just yet. No matter if he wanted to or not. But he did give Dewey another lazy grin, and a brush of fingers along his arm as he indicated the way to said drinks if the other man wished. “I confess I’m a bit of a wine snob, so unfortunately there’s plenty to choose from.”

Dewey was no stranger - pun slightly intended - when it came to entering the abodes of others he rarely knew. He had carried out many house calls around and along the outskirts of White Crest, lately doing so with increasing frequency. There was never any judgement about where or how a person lived, unless he felt it would severely impact their health, but even then he wouldn’t say something aloud until he got a better feel for both patient and their situation. He had little expectation when first approaching the other male’s - but as he stood there, allowing himself to take in the surroundings, make tiny, casual observations, he truly didn’t anticipate that the place would feel so much like… home.

Not down to the exact detail of his own place, as every individual had their own personal touch attributed to various nooks and crannies. But overall? He felt his posture relax, found himself able to step without fear of being too fast or slow or potentially knocking something over. It was comfortable. Familiar. Calming. Eerily like the man who now held his gaze once again, and how he was being approached by said literal drop-dead gorgeous specimen. Once again he was exceedingly grateful that he had no heartbeat, otherwise Carrington would have clearly heard the steam-hammer equivalent of one in his chest.

Another ear-to-ear grin was smothered by the tight press of his lips, though they still formed a grateful smile as he nodded slowly, a tad dazed. “Absolutely. And actually, that’s a very wonderful coincidence because I happen to know very little about wine, if you can believe it. So many years and I… really never bothered to indulge that much,” He allowed the fingers to nudge him wherever they would go, keeping his gaze on Carrington’s profile. There were so many thoughts muddling his mind, so many questions to ask, topics to touch on. He wanted to know everything about the other, compare experiences, tribulations, triumphs - but if he started, he knew he would never be able to stop.

Maybe if he began with something easy? “So… h-how old are you, exactly?”

The townhouse had been one of the first places Carrington had looked at upon coming to town. He didn’t have many possessions that he carried with him from place to place, preferring to start over as cleanly as possible, but there were a few things here and there that he always brought along. Bits and pieces of his life that were too important to be stored elsewhere. Reminders, if you would, of all he had done and survived and lived through. Reminders that life was worth living.

So while not ideal, Carrington had grown fond of the place, and had grown comfortable in it. Though Dewey was honestly the first person he’d had over. Ever. He could sense a slight release of a bit more of the humming tension that had surrounded the other man over the better part of their time together this evening. That was a good thing, Carrington thought to himself as they moved towards the kitchen. Now that he was back in a familiar environment, he too felt quite a bit more relaxed.

Which would hopefully continue to help Dewey relax, which would in turn help Carrington relax even more. And so on. He had no expectations for the evening, other than becoming better acquainted with the other man. What that meant, Carrington couldn’t say. They would simply have to play it by ear. Carrington knew he wanted to ask Dewey so many things, but knew that wine most always helped with such conversations. At least for Carrington.

He grinned, glancing at Dewey as the other man confessed about his lack of wine knowledge and imbibement. “I’ve likely indulged too much over the years. In too many things.” He gave Dewey a sly grin, but didn’t elaborate just then. He would, if Dewey wanted to know. But for the moment, he was utterly content with how things were going. He brushed his fingers feather-light over Dewey’s back as he stepped past and towards the small (to Carrington) wine cooler built into the wall. “Would you like to pick then?” he asked, leaning against the counter close by. “See if you find something you like? Or there’s spirits just there. I can mix something up if you’d rather.” There was also water and a few assorted types of beer, but it was mostly wine and liquor.

Despite his determination not to, Carrington couldn’t help the fact that his gaze kept drifting back to Dewey. It wasn’t just the familiarity - he could see the differences in him and the man he reminded Carrington of - but it was also… the feeling of not having to hide. Of not having to pretend to be something he wasn’t. It was… it was cathartic. The fact that Dewey was handsome and charming and seemed just as nervous as Carrington himself was just a boon. So when Dewey asked The Question, which Carrington had been expecting at some point, but didn’t mind one bit, Carrington couldn’t help but give him a sly grin.

“My Driver’s License says I’m 38.” The playful grin stayed in place, and he hoped he wasn’t pushing the boundaries of their playful banter. “I’ll tell you. I really don’t mind. But… I’m honestly exceedingly curious.... How old do you think I am? Best guess?”

Dewey had to steel himself against the ripple threatening to travel down his spine. Oh, I’m sure you have. And just how many years? No matter if Dewey himself had lived over ninety, he still felt relatively young in vampire ages. He had just enough experience that he could get away with living amongst humans, and yet there were still so many queries that plagued him night after night. Ones he had come up with long after parting from his sire. His eyes slipped shut when Carrington’s fingers brushed against him, oh so gently, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. God, he was going to be undone by a man he hardly knew. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Let’s be a bit adventurous tonight,” Though the words were almost solely directed towards himself, he smiled a bit anxiously at Carrington before focusing his gaze on the selection before him. After a bit of searching, he selected a bottle that was lower in the rack, holding it out to the blonde with an uncertain yet hopeful expression. “Will this suffice? Not that you’d have anything that wouldn’t, of course, I just mean… Ah,” The sigh was followed by a weak chuckle, a bit defeatist.

And then Carrington effortlessly had him smiling again, teeth worrying his lower lip terribly. He really needed to stop feeding into that habit. And the question was whisked into the air, and Dewey’s grip on the bottle tightened considerably. He… wanted him to guess? Of all people - well, there weren’t very many people to choose from, now were there? Knowing his nerves were beginning to fray, Dewey swiftly set the bottle down on the counter before adopting a thinker’s pose, fingers tucked beneath his chin as he regarded Carrington carefully. Wine aficionado, cordial, refined, and his features… well, they reminded him of the early Victorian period. Or he could be absolutely off -- Oh, to hell with it. “... Th-- Two-hundred… Two-hundred and forty?” The words were practically whispered, fingers brushing over his lips and brows rising in expectation of the true answer.

Sometimes Carrington felt every single one of his years. Sometimes he felt only a few of them. But it was rare that he felt… ‘young’ wasn’t the right word. Youthful, perhaps? Whatever the term, it wasn’t something he felt too often. He thought he felt the faint stirrings of it now, standing in his kitchen with Dewey. But as always, Carrington held it cautiously in reserve - most of it at least - waiting to see where the evening lead.

“I’m always ready for an adventure,” he smiled, watching as the other man made his choice. He had to forcibly pull his eyes from the way Deweys teeth moved across his lip, though Carrington had to wet his own a moment later. He tried not to think too hard about why. The other vampire made his choice, and Carrington gave him a nod. “That’s a good one,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Been waiting awhile to be opened as well.” When Dewey sat the bottle down, Carrington grabbed two glasses and a corkscrew from the rack and gave the other man a momentary reprieve as he turned a bit to the side to open it.

The cork popped out and Carrington poured them both a glass, leaving the rest of the bottle to breathe for a moment. He turned back, glasses in hand, waiting with patient anticipation as Dewey sized him up. Carringtons eyebrows raised a bit as he seemed to touch around three-hundred, but changed lanes at the last second. “That’s actually not a bad guess,” he grinned, handing one of the glasses over. “Not a bad guess at all.”

Carrington took a slow sip of his wine - trying his best to focus on that and not on Dewey’s fingers over his mouth - before giving a low hum. He swirled the wine a bit, watching the liquid move against the glass. “My birthday was last month. I turned 420.”

“At least that makes one of us…” Dewey murmured, knowing full and well that Carrington could hear but, not feeling terribly embarrassed from having said it at all. It didn’t seem to be a surprise that while he could carry on a general conversation, he tended to falter a bit when it came to less casual topics and began getting personal. Not that the simple task of asking someone’s age was anything but - except for the fact that they weren’t just simple beings. They were vampires, and old, new or somewhere in-between, to Dewey that meant every subject should be breached with the proper amount of delicacy.

Maybe if Carrington was an iota less attractive he might house more confidence on the matter. But as it stood, the man was breathtaking, even when one didn’t have any exhales to lend. Despite the other’s words, he gave a disbelieving glance towards the bottle. “Sure you aren’t just saying that now? I can take being a poor wine selector,” With Carrington preoccupied with opening the bottle, it afforded Dewey a rare opportunity to simply… observe the other as he worked. Watching his fingers twist, guide and pour with a flourish, an act he’d likely done numerous times and yet, Dewey found himself fixated on the motions nonetheless. He took his glass with a quiet ‘Thank you’, immediately tilting the glass to his lips. No sooner had he reached mid-sip, Carrington had revealed his true age - and Dewey’s shock was nearly his undoing. Four-hundred? And twenty? He faltered, throat seizing up before he could finish what was in his mouth, and he clamped a hand over his lips, a small, faintly similar to choking sound emitting from his vocal chords. He had to take a moment to cough, turning to the side and attempting to regain his composure. “P-pardon me,” The words held a bit of a wheezy tint, to which he cleared his throat before attempting to speak again, a hint of fascination twinkling in his gaze. “That’s… Hardly a good guess. I never would have thought. Well, I certainly can’t beat that. Ninety-one myself - did you… have a good birthday? Or, does the appeal er, wear off after so long?”

Carrington raised an eyebrow at the comment. “Maybe it’s time to start then. No time like the present.” Of course, it wasn’t always that easy. People had obligations. Jobs. Commitments. Things that simply couldn’t be dropped to go on a grand adventure. But Carrington was also aware that such things didn’t have to take place in strange, foreign lands or faraway places. Adventure could be found very close to home. If one knew where to look.

And right now Carrington was only interested in looking at one thing. He was a bit more practiced at speaking about things that were less than casual, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to find the confidence to do so. “Age meant nothing when it came to sharing the details of one’s life. So he could understand Dewey’s hesitance when it came to more personal issues. And Carrington wasn’t looking to make the rest of their evening awkward or stifled. So he decided to simply let the conversation flow as it would.

“I never just say anything. Well… not usually.” Carrington gave him a wry look. “Sometimes I find myself… saying a bit too much actually. Rambling, I suppose you’d call it. But I don’t lie. Especially not about wine,” he grinned around the rim of his glass.

It turned to a look of slight concern as Dewey seemed to get choked, but he was alright a moment later, so Carrington held off on whacking him on the back just yet. Not that he would’ve turned down the opportunity to touch him, but he’d rather it be under different circumstances. “It’s alright. Though I suppose your surprise means I don’t look my age then?” A touch of humor was there, but not overly apparent. “And it was a good guess. Most people think they’re going to offend me if they guess that high.” Dewey’s own age earned him raised eyebrows as well. “I would’ve guessed a bit higher. Closer to 150 maybe. Not quite two. But you wear it very well,” Carrington said quietly, watching the other vampire as he tipped his glass back again. As for his own birthday, Carrington gave Dewey a slightly sheepish look. “I spent it here. Getting quite drunk. And watching something terrible on Netflix.” A thoughtful look passed over his features. “I wouldn’t say it loses its appeal. Getting older is…” He sighed. “- it can be a gift.” He gave another small sigh, realizing he was in danger of growing morose. And that’s the last thing he wanted. “Come on… the orchids should be blooming this time of night. They’re much more interesting than listening to me drone on.”

“I can promise this, you aren’t the only one. I tend to go on tangent’s far too much, myself,” Though he could hardly believe that Carrington’s rambling was anywhere near as annoying or bothersome as his own. Most of the time it felt as though he was speaking into the air simply for the act of knowing he still could. But true to his word, Carrington appeared to speak with more certainty, more purpose. He wasn’t crass, so far, but also didn’t mince his words. Didn’t appear to house Dewey’s own hesitation in the middle of a sentence. Or maybe that was just the self-destructive tendencies rearing up again, igniting a match and simply waiting for the word to set all of Dewey’s towering hopes up in flame.

“Really?” That came off as more of a compliment than anything, and Dewey quickly sealed his lips around the rim of his own glass. He had gotten that before, although it was usually followed by a mockery of some sort. He’d met very few vampires who hadn’t shirked off their old mannerisms, even their accents, in favor of a metamorphosis standing in stark contrast. He couldn’t help but frown slightly at the thought of Carrington alone for something like his birthday. Not that he was an expert when it came to festivities, but surely he had at least one other person… or, maybe not. Dewey had spent his own in solitude, so he couldn’t really expect more from another vampire. “You know, not to diminish their beauty, but I wouldn’t mind listening to you go on. It’s rare I get to enjoy genuinely stimulating conversation. Much less with… someone like myself,”

Carrington was rarely one to speak without thinking. If something prompted him to do so, it was likely the result of an extremely strong emotion, or a necessity of the moment. He’d had quite a lot of time to spend on his own over the last several decades, but even before then he was reserved with his conversation. Though most weren’t nearly as stimulating as some of his recent ones.

“Really,” Carrington smiled. Youth tended to be so much more crass and unrefined. Not that Carrington would judge anyone if that was their personality - he even had a bit of a soft spot for those that were rough around the edges - he had simply noted the trait in those of his kind that were younger. Not always, of course. But he found Deweys personality suited the younger man quite well. He fit within himself. At least in Carrington’s opinion. As for himself, some things were so deeply ingrained that they would never change, even as Carrington adapted to the passing years. His sense of honor and responsibility. His sense of faith, warped and jaded as it was. His ability to see in others what they might not see in themselves. His desire for connection with another person. But he also knew that long life had the downside of outlasting most others. That most connections would pass away long before he himself did. And that fear - along with the knowledge that he was not the most congenial person in the world - is what had kept him solitary for so long.

So it was with a cautious yet slightly hopeful glance that Carrington turned on Dewey as they moved towards the small room that he had converted to house his specimens. “It’s not often someone wishes to hear me talk,” he said, his tone almost bashful in its softness. “But… I miss it too. Conversation. Among other things.” He cleared his throat after a moment, gesturing that Dewey should precede him into the small, dark room if he wished.

End.

#p: two vampires walk into a theater #p: dewey #dewey001 #chatzy

3 notes · View notes

1358456 · 4 years

Text

Review Response, Dec 29 2019 - Jan 4 2020

A lot of stuff here. ... Yay!!

Legacy #009

1) Omg the confession chapter! Loved this chapter to bits! Also happy 2020!

Yes! The confession has finally happened! Hell, it’s about time. Happy 2020, the year of the rat 庚子年!

2) Lol sun being A scared shit and A sweet confession. Looking forward to the next chapter

Sun being terrified... heh. It’s what Black would be in that situation. Sun? ... Who knows. The next chapter might happen soon, depends on how this chapter went!

3) Hehe, it really did work out for the best for Blue. Makes perfect sense to give Platinum the LuckyShipping confession MVP award now. Her little chat with Red was probably the best scene in this chapter for me.

Nice to see a fluffy chapter before the action kicks in again. Poor Yellow, though - she's going to be suffering for a bit...though it would be nice to see if/how Yellow gets over it. And I wonder what the "calling" thing is about. I suspect her target is a Mimikyu, but is this more Moon's instinct saying that a potential new team member is nearby or maybe there's some psychic stuff going on here?

Anyway, it's nice to see this story finally getting so many reviews! Happy New Year! As always, can't wait for the next chapter!

Hehe. Platinum the MVP, even though she really didn’t want to interfere in the matter. ... And no one’s going to be giving thanks to White or Y. Hahaha.

Poor Yellow? Not yet. It’s too soon. And no, the target is not a Mimikyu. Sun already has one. And you know from the overhaul post that Moon does not get a Mimikyu. Moon gets a Banette. And in the Thrifty Megamart, there are wild Shuppets. Fun fact: I do research to see what Pokemon are in what area so the Dex Holders will run into a Pokemon that makes sense in that area. Psychic stuff? Nah. Ghost stuff.

And Happy New Year to you too!

4) AAAAAAH THEY DID IT OH MY GOD THE FLUFF IS REAL

The fluff is real and it’s going to get fluffier. It’s going to be so fluffy that Yellow suffocates and Red and Blue get a bad case of static shock. ... Wait, what?

5) They’ve finally done it and platinum once again proving to be of help to both red and blue in getting the together. Your slowly making platinum one of my personal new favourites from these and I fine with that. It’s a really sweet chapter. Anyways Happy new years!

Platinum’s so nice. Hehehe... She’s a wonderful character! ... Yeah, yeah. Bias. Happy New Year!

6) I love the interactions between White and Y - they honestly seem really close and it’s really nice to see! I love the chapter I hope you had a good New Year’s Eve and Christmas and thank you for the new chapter!

I like the interactions between White and Y too, which is why I put in a lot of them. And they’re not exactly a senior/junior type, but rather, good friend type. Hence Y’s line of “oh eat my ass” in the last chapter.

7) Loved iT! Looking forward to the next chapter

Thank you. More to come soon...ish?

8) So excited to see if moon hits the Pokemon. Loved this chapter and white with the rapidash was great

Hehe. Of course Moon would hit it. White failing miserably in riding Rapidash, just like in that one SC chapter (SC #007: Memory Lane).

9) I'm glad Blue managed to confess her feelings for Red after struggling so hard with them. Crushes are really stressful, and in her case in particular, with her fear of getting close to and hurting others- just ah. The secret's out, and Red reciprocates. Now at least they'll have this moment of happiness! ...Though poor Yellow has rather unfortunate timing.

Is Moon being called to by a Mimikyu, I wonder? That'd be a strong and cool addition to her party!

Only happiness awaits for Red and Blue! ... Until the plot hits them, as foretold. Yellow’s purpose in the story is now halfway over.

And no, Moon is not being called by a Mimikyu.

10) Awwwww that was really cute! Hope we get more fluff next chapter!

Oh, there will. Flufftacular chapters are inbound.

11) Looking forward to the next chapter!

Thank you.

12) Hey again, hope your New Years went well! Glad to see an update to this story. Regarding the latest chapter, I'm pretty mixed - but not in a bad way.

The first half was pretty enjoyable to read. Honestly, Red does seem like he's become the person to think things over a bit before diving in from what I saw in FRLG and him asking Platinum what was up with Blue was enjoyable. Red also deciding to take the leap and press the issue to not prolong Blue's suffering was pretty fun to read too. I half expected Blue to go on a rant about why she likes Red to him, she seems like the kind of person to justify everything (since you've shown her thoughts and rationale about why she "musn't" let Red she likes him in earlier chapters) but I guess it wasn't needed or maybe she'll do it when she's a bit calmer. I'd like to see Red react to him unknowingly saving her back in Chapter 1. Also, I've said it before - I used to like Red and Yellow, but this kinda does cement why I like Red and Blue - I kinda got a kick out of Yellow spying on the two of them, felt somewhat ironic.

I might be the only one but I kinda just gloss over the Sun and Moon parts of the story. I still read them, but I just feel more invested in the older Dex Holders' adventures since they're more emotional and I'm way more attached to those guys.

Regardless of my personal bias, great chapter. Looking forward to more as always.

Red is reckless when it comes to like... battling and combat. But outside of that, he’s not stupidly reckless. And hopefully, given how old he is in Legacy, he would’ve mellowed even more. And so he is now considerate. Huzzah! Blue will go on a ramble and talk about her fears later on once things have settled. Right now, she would be quite exhausted, actually. And then she and Red can have that discussion that was in Destiny, but in Legacy with updated interactions and no doomsday on the horizon. Getting a kick out of Yellow getting heartbroken, huh? Hahaha. ... More to come later.

Eh, it’s not that surprising. After all, statistically, the newest Dex Holders are generally ignored by the readers. Black and White in SA, X and Y in early Destiny, and now Sun and Moon in early (still) Legacy. Now, Sun and Moon aren’t that new anymore, so they’re not being as ignored, but they’re still the newest (since we don’t know sh*t about Sword and Shield yet), so... yeah.

13) Loved this blue being shy is so unexpected aswell!

Timid Blue is unexpectedly cute, eh? Hehehe...

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

Surprised that no one talked about the title. I guess f*ck Heart, right? Heh.

So, good news is... the newest chapter is above 10. So... update will happen in this month. “Bad” news is... the update fails to reach the average. But given how the average was raised, the updated chapter is still above most of the others, and it’s been less than a week, so... update will still happen this month, just not this week or the next. Give me some time off, eh?

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

DE #003

1) These two cinnamon rolls are so cute!

Yep. Black and White are stupidly cute together, whether they’re surrounded by fluff or blood.

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

DE #013

1) Cute Ruby and White.

Surprisingly cute, huh? Same goes for Sapphire & Black!

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

DE #020

1) Red and Blue (female) are so cute!

Yep! That they are! Hehehe.

2) So cute

Yes indeed.

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

DE #021

1) Just give her a ring and kiss her already. Geez these two are so cute.

Hehe. Short Story - The Question. Pop the ring!

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

DE #028

1) Cute,l!

Well, I guess this chapter was cute. Its prequel, however... hehe...

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

DE #031

1) Good stuff. Will take a long while for Sun and Moon to even be this intimate tho. What with all the fighting.

I don’t think Sun and Moon can ever actually be that intimate. For one, Moon will have to surgically remove that coin lodged in his brain, and someone will have to shove a classy romance novel into his face over and over until he learns the concept of flirting and proper responses.

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

There’s no need to see the DE chart, so...

SC #015

1) Coming back to this chapter after knowing what Red's up to makes their job occupations work very, very well together. Blue provides the advanced technology, Red carries out the "fieldwork". Both manage to work unique occupations during the day and still spend a wholesome time together when they're back home. Loving their dynamic!

Oddly, the Covert Ops series, whose idea I scrapped, has come back in a very weird fashion. Instead of Blue doing the fieldwork (or Rakutsu), she’s just providing the tech to Red. Interesting.

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

SC #017

1) *Mission Impossible theme plays with the sound of jingle bells and terrified shrieks of thugs in the background*

Merry (late!) Christmas to the unfortunate baddies of the world who Dex Holders deliver justice to. Can't say I ever expected Red to become a hitman, let alone dress up as Santa Claus and deal out punishment to evildoers. Sure was a hilarious read, however!

“Santa Claus is gunning you down~” Ahem.

Red the mercenary. And coincidentally, the chapter is based on a Hitman Santa rampage that I used to do back in the days. “Santa’s coming to town!”

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

I appreciate what you did, but... +1/+1 doesn’t actually do much. Like, SC #015 is now no longer the least reviewed chapter, but instead, TIED at the least reviewed chapter, along with the Wings update from many months ago. The two chapters you put the pity reviews for, are still not even at half of the story’s average. +4/+4 from now, and then maybe we’ll see.

#qna

5 notes · View notes

letsperaltiago · 5 years

Text

We’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 3|

Here it is! Chapter 3 and damn that was intense to write. Not only did I completely disappear into a dark hole writing this (hence the 5k chapter), but there was also such a wide range of feelings in this which was both interesting and challenging to write. I hope I did it justice and it doesn't come off as a chaotic mess! Please let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoy!

Read here or on AO3

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

CHAPTER 3: We opened up a cold case love and it got the best of us

Before the shot, time had seemed to come to a standstill - the good kind, where the other’s presence swallowed the concept of time. Sipping on beer, catching up on each other’s most basic life-updates and simply joking around was enough for the sand in the hour glass to stay stuck for just a little while. It was all so simple, corny even, yet there was nowhere else in the world they’d rather wanted to be; right there at Shaw’s in each other’s company seemed stupidly perfect. Henceforth the mysterious shot also happened to get its deed done, making sure that the conversation’s flow from earlier was back and even better than before.

“So,” Amy breathed out heavily, planting her elbow on the table (just an inch or two closer to him for good measure) allowing her chin to rest on top of her clenched fist. Her eyes were still that tad darker shade like earlier, though it was now for completely different reasons that were suddenly flourishing within her. “Are you going to whoop my ass tonight or what?” A cock of her left eyebrow emphasised the frisky mood and playfulness of the question.

On the opposite side of the invisible unspoken between them, the one right on front of Amy’s elbow that neither of them dare to cross out of respect though they wanted to, a suddenly rather dumbfounded Jake felt a lump of nervousness mixed with yearning jamming his throat. “Uhh,” the slight o-shape of his mouth was enough to ignite a fire in her; whether she felt like admitting it or not, Jake Peralta’s attention definitely satisfied a mysterious drought within her. There was no escaping her profound stare, her delicately glazed eyes, provoking him to shift in his seat to make up for the lack of things to say.

“It’s now or never, Peralta,” it appeared to be her turn to push herself out of the cornered booth. Said action left a still very much speechless Jake by himself to stare at her undeniably beautiful figure as she rose to her feet for the first time that night, heedlessly aggravating the situation seeing that she looked really nice in an outfit that without warning appeared to be his new favourite. Turns out Amy Santiago, without any effort whatsoever, could make heeled black boots, mid-washed skinny jeans and a burgundy collared button-up shirt (that hugged her body all the right places) look like the centuries most impeccable outfit.

“Jake?” the calling of his own name snapped him out of his brief trance-like absence. Even though he’d been mindlessly staring at her during said brief mental absence, his gaze had without a doubt not been focusing on her face. The sound of her voice lead to a quick redirecting of his eyes, letting them stumble upon her face to meet glowing eyes as well as a provoking smile and slightly flushed cheeks. Said attributes were framed by her wavy and all too memorable dark hair falling effortlessly nonetheless flawlessly down her shoulders only to come to a stop right across her chest. Was it bad that his hands, unaware of time and place, wanted to run his fingers through it, furthermore getting his fingers all tangled up? Maybe so tangled up that he could never let her walk away again.

“Are you okay?”

Shit. For how long had he just been sitting there staring at her without saying anything?

“Oh uh- yes. Sorry. Probably just the buzz from the alcohol messing with me… You were saying?”

Luckily and to his great relief, Amy didn’t really seem to question him vanishing for a few seconds; that or she simply chose to ignore it. Either way he was good to go.

“I was saying that if you wanted to do some,” she briefly paused in order to raise her arms and form air quotes with her fingers, “ass-whooping, then the pool table is finally available.” Figuring that her intentions were implied, Amy turned on her heels before he could reply.

Ah, yes. That kind of whooping her ass… Figurative speech. It was as clear as day that she was using his own choice of words against him yet somehow he’d still manage to misunderstand it in the spur of the moment. Now was probably a good time to snap out of it, follow her to the pool table and act like he hadn’t just sat there, dazed and misinterpreting her words for the past two minutes; the second shot of mystery alcohol was quickly downed without further reconsidering before Jake pushed himself out the booth to join his friend at the vacant pool table.

To both his immense and so-so intoxicated pleasure but also rational misery, of course she was leaning over the green surface of the table in order to grab the scattered balls that hadn’t been put back in place by the previous players. With fresh intoxicants shooting through his blood, feeling his heart pumping with unruly and imprecise fluctuations, Jake paced himself closer to her stretched out figure reaching for the black 8-ball. There was no doubt in his mind; exactly this, the sight of Amy Santiago stretched out across a surface with no clue of how tauntingly the slight arch in her back enhanced the curves of her body, was a picture whose beguiled effect he’d never be able to repress. Not only for the rest of the night but also, if his brain hated him just enough, in future wandering thoughts. It was inevitable when such a beautiful picture had been presented to him.

To Jake’s relief, and after what seemed like just a bit too long for him to stay sane, Amy finally reached the black ball and pushed herself back off the table in order to put it in its designated spot with the rest of the balls. “Ready to lose?” She turned her head just enough for him to pick up on a smug smile.

“Only if you are, because that’s what I know you’re going to do,” Jake countered, going with whatever flow was building up between them again, her back on display now that she was grabbing cue sticks for them to play with; one in each hand, held by her soft hands’ firm grip that could only inflame more suggestive content for his wandering imagination.

“In your dreams, Peralta…”

Her eyes taunted him, but not obviously; more playfully, subtly as Amy Santiago would never admit to dancing with the devil though something about her dark eyes told him that she was in it to win it. Everything going on inside his head distracted him from paying any attention to the shaft of the wooden cue stick being transferring from her grip to his. Only when her fingers swiftly brushed against his did Jake actually pay attention to the fact that he know held the object in his hands and (hypothetically) was ready to play. Meanwhile Amy had already pranced off to the far end of the table where she got into position; lightly bent over, arms resting on the edge of the table. If Jake hadn’t entirely snapped out of his daze, he did when her first shot resulted in the triangle of coloured balls shattering, sending each and everyone of them in a new direction. It was with satisfaction and a content look on her face that Amy straightened back up and pushed her hair out of her face in the midst of it all.

“Wow, that was almost not horrible,” he teased, feeling the need to bug her; there was something about her that made it impossible for him to hold back on his words.

“Shut up,” she growled, almost throwing him off guard as she pushed his shoulder with her own as she passed him with their booth as her final destination. “I’m going to down this last weird shot of yours and then you’ll be a dead man.”

And so she did. While Jake bent over the table to take a shot at the shuffled balls, he discreetly watched her snap her head back and knock down the last shot; anything she did that night was stupidly hypnotising. If Jake had had just one more drink, then maybe he would’ve forgotten to actually play and it would’ve resulted in him just standing there bent over a pool table in a half empty bar, absorbing his friend’s every move. Luckily he hadn’t; he was past tipsy but definitely not entirely drunk. Looking back down at the green fabric, feeling the cue stick in his hand was just enough for him to focus on something else than her and strike the ball before him. This was going to be a long game…

Closely eyeing each other at all times, both for competing and other unspoken reasons which presumably came from a brewing mixture of unresolved emotions, alcohol and curiousness inside their veins, Jake and Amy rhythmically followed the fate of their competition. Throughout the entire game they took turns trying to either obtain or keep the lead, which didn’t take place without a recognisable banter that reminded them of old times. Somewhere in between Jake constantly bumping into Amy on purpose, earning himself a precious laugh accompanied by a playful punch, and Amy managing to shoot one of her balls into a hole, they both agreed on getting another round of drinks. This decision was taken as if Amy wasn’t already constantly stumbling upon her own feet every time she had to stand still in order to take aim. Every time she did so Jake would lett out an intoxicated laugh. Even considering these circumstances the giddy woman still stumbled back to the pool table with a beer in each hand along with her mouth wide agape around a shot glass.

“Need help, loserago?” Jake chuckled as he came to her rescue, grabbing the shot glass from in between her teeth before tipping his head back and emptying its content into his throat.

With an expression similar to the one he’d portrayed earlier, Amy’s mouth was now wide agape in bafflement. “Hey! That was mine!” Almost like a child whose candy had just been taken from her, the woman wailed in disapproval.

“As if I didn’t see you take a shot by yourself at the bar before coming back here,” Jake accused her, his eyes small in a caricatured squint that let her know that she’d been caught in the act. It wasn’t to say if she’d suddenly forgotten about the shot that he’d taken from her, but she definitely wasn’t pleased with being caught taking an extra shot. It was almost too easy to tell from the now defensive facial expression and arms crossed in front of her chest.

“So what? I can drink two shots if I want to.”

“Not when you already had two like… twenty minutes ago plus what? Three beers?” The testifying was accompanied by a presumptuous cock of the right eyebrow and a smirk before he redirected his gaze and nodded his head in the direction of the beers in her hands. “Plus this one.”

“Are you keeping count, Peralta?” She slurred, just enough to let him know that she was definitely drunk but not enough for him to worry - not that he actually had any right to be the judge of that since he himself had the warm, happy and slightly absentminded sensation of alcohol putting a rose-colored filter on everything and everyone around him.

“Maybe…” He shrugged, smiling culpably as if didn’t matter. “… and so what?”

Somewhere deep within her, Amy was pleased to hear him confess so. It meant that he was paying attention to her and better yet, it also gave her yet another reason to tease him. “Damn, you’re obsessed with me. I mean-“ she took a step closer to him with gloat in her eyes and smile, trying to come off as demeaning but rather goading him to move in closer as well. One stop closer. Not more, not less. “I already knew that you were like… definitely deeply,” she paused to let out a subtle hick-up, “-in love with me, but…” She continued her conquest, giggling with drunken amusement.

Impossible, he though as he dramatically tipped his head back and rolled his eyes. It had to be impossible to be this taunting, especially when he had no right to act on it. “Okay okay, Santiago. No more alcohol for you.”

Exactly as she was about to uncross her arms and take a sip of the already opened beer in her left hand, Jake grabbed both bottles from her. Instead of taking a sip herself, it took Amy a second to register what was happening and understanding that it was now her friend’s lips, instead of hers, wrapped around the head of the bottle.

“Give it back!”

“Nope,” he laughed before turning on his heels, jogging back to the opposite pool table to have it function as protection. “No more alcohol for you tonight.”

“G-give me my beer back. I’m doing f-fone,” she growled before setting off to chase him on her wobbly legs, reminding Jake of Bambi’s first time on the ice.

“Well as long as you’re fone then sure, I’ll let you drink…” Sarcasm had always been his favourite language, and Amy could only wonder why it stirred something within her every time he took advantage of a moment to show it off. He rounded the closest corner of the table as soon as she made her way to his side. Exactly how a 5-year old would start a game of tag, the woman wasn’t allowed within a few feet of him at all times. Guess he still was a man-child even after these five years apart.

“Jake!” It was almost a shriek at this point, clearly out of annoyance but also of secret affection. All Amy could do was jog after him; round and around the pool table as a mashup of shrieks, laughs and grunts filled the air. Both of them were getting tired though there was doubt about who was the most out of shape.

“Aha!” After having rounded the entirety of the table multiple times, Amy finally caught up with an out of breath Jake allowing her to steal a bottle from where his hands (and therefor the beers) were placed on the green fabric with the intentions of taking some his heaving body’s weight off his legs.

“The winner takes it all!” She sang the iconic line before boosting herself to sit on the pool table, barely making it as her arms (in her current rather drunk state, that is) could barely carry her. Nonetheless she was now safely perched on top, her legs dangling off the side and there was nothing else for her to do but celebrate with a long swig from the bottle.

“Ames,” he let out in a breathy giggle, feeling the shot he stole from her colliding with everything else he’d been previously drinking. “Stop it.”

“Make me,” and that was where she made her first mistake. If there was something Jake Peralta would never step down from, it was a challenge - especially a challenge given by her. His mind was attuned to win, at all costs, and so he intuitively reached out to grab her right above her knee, when she in an attempt to flee was about to jump off the table.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he let out in a growl that faded into a snicker as he pushed down, enough to keep her in place but not enough to hurt her, on her leg. Even taking himself by surprise considering his previous lack of breath, Jake rapidly placed himself before her, stumbling into the space between her legs and recited the action on her other leg with his other hand. With both legs now pinned down by his strong hands gripping onto the area right above her knees, realising that his upper body was blocking her escape route before her, Amy tried to lean back onto the table in a last attempt to escape from the opposite long side of the table. Alas it was without effect; before she could even lean all the way down and attempt to roll out of his grip, his hands slid up her legs to slide his index fingers into the belt loops of her jeans instead. In a quick snap, in which there was no way either of them had time to think it through properly, Jake had pulled her back up. Making up for the space she’d created between them by actually managing to move slightly away from him, he overcompensated by pulling her back even further towards him, leading her to place har palms against her chest for balancing purposes. With no possible control over her body at this point, too caught up in the sudden intimacy, she unconsciously gave in to whatever he did. His repositioning of her body, so close to his, reminded her of a screaming kettle signalling that the boiling point was reached. However neither seemed to take the broad hint of the metaphorical kettle. Contrary to all moral, which had unwittingly been thrown out the window just about three drinks ago, Amy’s breath hitched when she finally allowed herself to breathe out, intoxicating her friend even further in the process and evoking an accidental flinch of his fingers by which she was reminded of his grip on her. Strangely, then yet again not at all, she never wanted him to let go.

She’d always wondered how people’s eyes could grow darker from certain influences but now, seeing that she was closer to him than ever before with the tip of his nose just few inches from hers, she finally understood. Never, now that she was staring into his, had she seen eyes with such dilated pupils. Even though she was caught up in the way his stare bore right into hers, she still picked up on the hitch in his breath when she breathed out yet again, gaining her lips his eyes’s full attention. For just a moment she speculated; did he wonder what her lips felt and tasted like, just like she did about his? Either he did or it was purely an act of impulse, either way his fingers slipped out of the belt loops, causing a feeling of disappointment to sneak in on her only to be interrupted by his hands sliding back to pull her in even close by the small of her back. Just as impulsively as he’d pulled, Amy allowed it by arching her back to finally unite their eager lips. it was momentarily unbelievable. Having always been pining for each other at the wrong time, similar to how the sun and moon would always miss each other, the world around them disappeared into a black hole - not that there were that many people around this close to closing-time. Either way, it was just them and the feeling of their lips exploring each other for the first time, completely ignoring the hesitance a first kiss would usually display and instead quickly getting used to the feeling and sound of their clacking teeth as they got in to the ways of their caving, quivering lips.

Jake wasn’t even sure whether or not there was any more room left between them, but nonetheless he tried to pull her in even closer, feeling his heart flutter at the sound of a muffled glitch in the breathing. He was too caught up in savouring her lips and therefor oblivious to the fact that his pelvis was in fact already pushed up against her crotch; there was no more distance between them to erase. In the meantime Amy had felt her body tremble and given in to the fact that God yes, she wanted him as close to her as physically possible. Even though almost unable to she’d still managed to vacate her hands from their spot on his chest, nails lightly scratching his sensitive skin in the process of moving them up his neck where they found home in his messy curls.

“Has your-“ she managed to breathe out between clashes “-hair always been this-“ she was once again interrupted though this time by his teeth tugging on her bottom lip, prompting the type of tiny whiny moan that he’d secretly been dying to hear. “-curly?”

After leaving his teeth slightly sunk into her lip for another few seconds, earning him the verbal reaction he was desperately chasing and dying to hear, he let go and breathed thickly against the corner of her lips, “For the past two years or so.” The last word just barely made it out, swallowed by him going back to kissing her. The dance between their lips quickly evolved into nibbling that would soon reveal itself in the shape of tiny love bites, covering the entire space from her lips; to her neck; to the hidden spot beneath her ear which occasionally included tugging on the ear lobe which in return would earn him a what he quickly considered a beautiful compilations of ohs and ahs. He then placed a peck to the shell of her ear, “You just weren’t around to see it.”

As good as to stop her from answering he returned to kissing her lips, feeling slightly agitated from the memory of what felt like her abandoning him five years ago.

“Oh, please…” Her breath was warm against his face, slender fingers tangling themselves in the most prominent of his curls before lightly, just enough for it to shoot through his entire nervous system, pulling on them. “You never wanted me to just see-“ a bite to her neck, the hardest one so far, cut her off. “Shit, Jake,” she hissed partly from pain, partly from pleasure. Though she couldn’t witness it herself, a very pleased smile grew on her partner’s lips. There was something about being able to make her squirm and react the way she just did that drove him absolutely mad. Never had he ever consumed drugs, but he couldn’t help but compare this moment to a high. He suddenly didn’t mind being addicted…

There was no way for either of them to recall how or even when they’d left the warm interiors of the bar. All that Amy knew was that she definitely felt ice cold bricks, probably ones belonging to a wall in a dark alley, pressed against her back. More likely was it that she was pressed up against the brick wall, sandwiched between that and Jake’s figure. Their current location made just as much sense as what they were doing, but then again they obviously hadn’t worried much about the whole kissing-thing so why worry about the alley?

A cold rain had been drizzling from the sky ever since they set a foot outside, causing Jake’s messy curls to fall flat against his forehead. Every once in a while, either caused by movement or simply the time it took for a drop to slide all the way down, their fighting lips would hitch at the sensation of an icy driblet of winter rain. Sometimes it’d miss their attached lips and instead explode on her hands that held onto the collar of his coat as if it were her lifeline. Unexplainably so, though Amy suspected that it’d never actually been closed, her jacket was wide open. This, more than anything else, welcomed Jake to reach for the burgundy dress shirt only to bury his hands under it in the hunt of two things: her and heat. Needless to say that he found both, plus a bit more, when he felt her body shudder beneath his cold hands. “Sorry,” he mumbled lazily, slowing down the pace of his kisses before redirecting them towards an area that was yet to be fully discovered.

“It’s o-okay,” her voice trembled from a mixture of cold and the overwhelming feeling of being touched for the first time in what seemed like forever. All these caresses and feelings were only in addition to it finally being by the right pair of hands and lips, which meant more than anything else.

“You’re-“ Jake murmured deeply against her cheek as his cold fingers picked at the soft, warm skin of her stomach before removing them to fiddle with the bottom button of her shirt, “-amazing.”

His fingers, though controlled by his buzzed brain, quickly managed to pop open the button; the pattern quickly repeated itself and before Amy could object, this considering she didn’t actually want to, Jake pulled the now two fragments of burgundy fabric apart to reveal the ultimate motive. Before him reigned the sight of her soft curves of her stomach and waist, looking just as he’d dreamed of many times before. The smooth narrowing of her waist lead his gaze up to what, in that specific moment, was without a doubt the world’s most beautiful pair of breast. Held by a lacy yet elegant black bra, he could see just enough to know that Amy was perfect.

It wasn’t news to either of them that whatever they were doing took a lot of breathing and therefor resulted in many huffs and puffs. Yet seeing Amy’s almost bare chest heave in an almost violent, exasperated constant up-and-down pattern was something Jake would never forget. He did that; he could make her body react like this. In the midst of simply taking it all in, Amy allowed herself to pull him in an attempt to win some control by nibbling at his neck as her hands were messily searching for whatever part of him that would provide her the most warmth.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded in-between the contact between skin and lips, resulting in herself being denied the badly needed access to his neck when he slid his hands into her hair, tugged back her head and kissed her lips once before travelling downwards to repeat the action on her exposed collarbone. The warmth of his lips in contrast to her icy skin earned him the sound of a hiss of pleasure. Following touch of his lips pressed to the middle of her throat before the next took a deep plunge to land right above her cleavage.

“Fuck,” she cursed when he took another chance by nibbling at the top of her left breast, redirecting her hand to the back of his neck to hold him in place; screw hiding from the cold February rain. She could feel goosebumps all over her body; from top to toe, there was no denying that she was indeed giving up every sense of concern about her own health. Some would probably say that it was stupid; it probably really was, but on the other hand there was no such thing as considering anything twice when Jake Peralta was making you feel everything you’d never felt before in a dark alley at two in the morning.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he managed to breathe out in between kisses travelling from the brand new hickey on her left breast back to her by now very swollen, pink lips. Normally Amy had a no hickey-policy, although tonight there was nothing she wanted more than for Jake to paint her entire body with warm kisses, scratching teeth and imprinting hands.

“I know,” she breathed back, taking in how sweet not only his lips tasted but also his words. Her hand that had previously held onto his hair swiftly slipped down to cup his face as to hold it close like she was hanging on for dear life, which she to some extent actually was; he made her feel so alive.

“Wish this could last forever,” was mumbled against the sensitive shell of her ear before pecking it as if nothing had been said, casually travelling down to leave new bites to her delicious skin. Alas… Whereas the cold had been possible to ignore because of the heat she felt from the rush and him alone was distracting enough, a bucket of ice suddenly seemed to drop upon her - literally and metaphorically. Literally because she was pretty sure the rain had evolved to tiny snowflakes because of the dropping temperature; metaphorically because this couldn’t last forever. Jake was engaged; she was currently hooking up with someone else’s husband-to-be.

It wasn’t exactly news to her, but whether she’d spend the night consciously repressing it or simply had forgotten in the heat of it all, Amy was sure of one thing; it was very wrong.

“Jake,” she panicked, feeling her heart pick up a bad kind of irrational pace. Never before had she sobered up so fast. Jake on the other hand continuously stained her neck, simply letting out a hum of acknowledgement. “We need- we need to stop.” Her hands involuntarily dropped from her before desperate grip on his face, down to his shoulder in an attempt to push him off of her. As soon as his brain had combined her words with the physical resistance, Jake drew back to stand up straight, looking at her with glazed eyes and bruised lips. Lips that she had bruised, she couldn’t help but think as she took in the sight before her.

“Are you okay?” He was clearly worried about her sudden snap, though still lightly dazed from both alcohol and the sudden lack of touch.

Deep down she knew, she was even sure of the fact, that he wasn’t a bad guy; he’d rather die than cause her any pain. But looking at his current state suddenly stung as it now symbolised the infidelity and cruelty she’d brought upon his life. Poor Sophia was probably at home, trusting that the love of her life was just out having a drink and a good time, meanwhile he was actually making out with his ex-partner in one of Brooklyn’s many dark alleys.

“I’m-,” an icy breeze reminded her of her open shirt, reminding her to immediately wrap the fabric back around her to both keep her warm but also hide the parts of her body that he should never had gotten access to. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I-“ words struggled to form in her mouth, her chest heaving from the rising anxiety and inability to breath properly. How could one talk her way out of this?

“Ames, d-don’t be. It’s not your-“ he started to plead, slowly sobering up and trying to save her from the guilt that was already eating her alive. The fact was though that it was hopeless; Amy was determined to get out of there as fast as possible. The sooner he was out of sight, the sooner she could work on moving on and make sure no one else ever found out about this tragedy. The last thing he saw was a drop of water sliding down her cheek, making him wonder whether it was a tear or the remains of what used to be a snowflace. Before he could get an answer, or even just get to ask, she was running away into the night.

“Amy!” he yelled desperately, shocked to an extent that kept his feet from moving, furiously running his hands through his wet hair in anger and frustration. Was he mad because he’d cheated on his future wife aka. the person who he was supposed to vow his life and love to? Or was he mad, because he’d cheated on his future wife aka. the person who he was supposed to vow his life and love to, when actually he wanted to give all that to someone else? All in all:

What the fuck had he done?

#peraltiago #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake x amy fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #Brooklyn Nine-Nine #b99 #jake and amy

13 notes · View notes

lucytara · 5 years

Text

okay since walk where the wild things grow was posted back in march or whatever ive had a bunch of questions over time about the Lore™. i kept saying i’d make a post or something explaining it all and i finally did it!

the beginning/first war/etc

in the beginning, the world itself actually seems very similar to what v6 is describing re: salem’s origin. magic was much more common, and many could access/wield it. blake, yang, weiss, ruby, and pyrrha had a much more uncommon ability with it - they were basically gifted, in a way. they could do stronger things, they could learn to harness it in ways normal people couldn’t. and they were among the front lines in the first war against the darkness.

ozpin gifted them their greater forms of magic, tying power to their souls and basically rendering them immortal. he also sensed incredible magic inside of jaune and tried to gift him something similar, but jaune never learned to access it.

even then, yang was always the most powerful. she utilized her power in a way others didn’t, or they gravitated towards other things. blake, for instance, would’ve much rather created than destroyed - which is the literal influence of blake over yang’s soul where wwtwtg picks up. yang leans towards creation now because of blake.

they were more magical than human by the end of the first war. the scale was so much grander than anything now. think like demigods or something. they weren’t quite transcendent but they were close.

adam was more human than magical. his power came more in the form of intangible effects - leadership, an otherworldly charisma to the point of forced influence, physical strength, willpower. the ability to strike unrelenting fear. he still was magical, but his gifts weren’t primarily magical like the maidens.

blake and yang were the biggest threats in existence. yang was very much the personification of fire and fury and destruction, think yang in early volumes, letting her emotions get the best of her, dictate her moves. blake was really the only one who could keep her in check - not in a bad way, but blake was much more strategic, worked more from shadow, could play around with day and night and darkness, lightning and thunder and storms. and they both made each other stronger because they wanted to keep the other safe so badly. they drove each other to extremes, like qrow tells her. they did things nobody thought possible just to protect the other.

because of this they became the primary targets, aside from ozpin himself. and their enemies stopped fighting them directly, instead search for a new way: undo what ozpin had done, detach power from one of them, leave them aimless. this is their final fight together - countless people died trying to stop this from happening - but blake’s power ultimately was unbound, only they didn’t realize it would go to the last person in her thoughts, which was yang. adam managed to strike yang in the chaos of the battle, trying to protect basically powerless blake at this point, unable to harness all the power that was now inside of her. so blake essentially sacrifices herself to buy yang time. adam was the one who killed her.

holding now nearly-limitless power and basically a force of nothing but rage and revenge and grief, yang destroys everything evil - banishes it, burns it, tears it to pieces - and the population’s so decimated at this point anyway, this was almost a post-apocalyptic world, ruby and weiss and pyrrha and jaune are dead - and yang creates the pocket dimension where we see salem live in the series, essentially, locks away what can’t be destroyed, basically the concept itself of magical evil. that’s really the limit of her power. and at the end of all things, now left only with her grief, she grows flowers, trees, forests, creates rainstorms, oceans. in her last moments she’s thinking of blake and the world she wants to find blake in again, and it isn’t the war-torn hell surrounding her

Past Lives

separating blake’s power from her soul should have made it impossible for them to find each other again, and for awhile - a lonnng while - it did. when yang couldn’t find her the next life, or the next, she forgot more and more until she was left with only the knowledge that love had been there itself.

adam was the one who found blake next. blake, not having her own pwer to know for certain, only felt a strange connection to him without realizing it was a sinister one. it ended poorly for her, as it does in every life adam exists. when he’s able to influence blake, she and yang rarely cross paths. however, in lives he doesn’t exist, blake and yang have plenty of almosts - they’re in the same city at the same time, the same festival, on opposite sides of the street, walking the same woods, etc. maybe yang catches the back of her head in a crowd, but she blinks and blake’s gone.

in plenty of lives, yang runs across adam and without remembering fully who he is or what he’s done, murders him. some part of her soul has that age-old instinct and recognizes the part he plays in her life. he’s the biggest threat to her and she never lets him live.

however, unlike yang, adam (and evil in general) grows weaker with time. the power itself dilutes every life because evil can’t reincarnate without extraordinary effort and chaos to take advantage of in the world itself.

which brings us to...present day!

in wwtwtg, adam’s hold over blake breaks entirely. it’s why she’s able to leave him, and why she travels to vale instead; the pull on her soul is too strong, even though she doesn’t recognize it. after this life, he’s never able to influence her again.

yang and blake look the most similar to their first selves, which is one of the reasons their connection finally overpowers every other influence over it. not only do their souls recognize each other, but on some level they literally recognize each other.

like yang says later, blake should not have been able to see her in the forest the first time they meet. she was masking herself, but blake’s immune to the effect of it because they’re soulmates. like she says, she’ll recognize yang anywhere.

the island in the ocean near where they have their first kiss is blake’s grave (a lot of you guessed this which was super cool). it’s the centralization of yang’s grief, but also of what was her hope for the future. it’s eternally in conflict; the residue of the magic and emotion was too strong.

the ruin just outside of Shor, the crumbling house where they grow the flower, is where they used to live. the magical presence is strong because their power soaked into the world around them. in their first life, before she died, yang put it under some sort of protective spell, keeping it more intact than anything else. Shor itself would’ve been the capital city back then; all of them lived there before and during the war. it was a primary trading port, situated near a deep bay (which is now cut off from the ocean). it was so entrenched in magic that it managed to survive total annihilation, and it’s the largest ruin that exists in remnant. think pompeii, but even bigger.

ozpin now is something that lives almost around the fringes of the world, rather than in it. he’s kind of like salem in that way, the concept of evil, and the concept of hope. but of course he made a visit to ensure blake didn’t have any reason to leave.

the books in the shop do allude to their pasts. remorse of time - blake and yang thought they’d find each other and they didn’t. the first six - hint that there were 6 of them, like is revealed at the end. darkest game - the final part of the war that got blake killed, sort of how the evil became its own undoing by killing her.

cinder was reincarnated their last life, and she was able to steal their power. yang could’ve defeated her easily, but two of her friends were dead, and she was tired. something was telling her to start over. she knew cinder wouldn’t be able to handle the power she’d get from yang, and yang essentially let herself die. that’s why cinder was more grimm than monster when ruby finally found her - yang’s power was the tipping point, so overwhelming it was like acid, eating away at her body.

during the fight in mistral, yang’s soul was essentially reacting to blake being there the way she would’ve been in the very beginning. she was driven to protect her, to do her justice. like instinct, like something feral. the power she accessed was even greater than normal. like it’d been unleashed.

ruby and yang are always sisters or half-sisters. they don’t normally start showing their gifts until they’re five, so there’s no way for parents in vale/mistral to know in advance. like, they can’t be like, shit just had a kid who’s a maiden and i don’t want another one, time to stop having kids. they aren’t always born in their kingdoms; ruby and yang were both born in vale, but the guard at the time (qrow’s the main one here, ironwood in atlas, etc) determine their positions based on their memories of their past lives among other things. ruby always would’ve been drawn to mistral. pyrrha likes to say the desert just agrees with her.

ruby and weiss don’t always have a romantic relationship, unlike blake and yang, who always do from here on out. it depends entirely on the life. sometimes their relationship is just that in itself: they’re soulmates.

people ask me all the time if blake ends up getting her powers back. all i’ll say on that is that there is definitely a way, should they ever decide to pursue that course. ;)

thanks to everyone who asked questions and if it wasn’t answered here you can shoot me a message!! <33

#bumbleby #wwtwtg #fic lore?

244 notes · View notes

realitachifacts · 5 years

Note

HCs about Itachi and his dreams, nightmares, sleeping habits and alternate states of consciousness. Does he get insomnia? Anything about parasomnia? Maybe a brief writing about it.

okay i just finished this and wtf it ended up being so long. i am not editing the story so if there are typos or anything sucks to suck for me.

headcanon time! i’m really excited for this one not gonna lie.

itachi has nightmares. many of them. this… makes sense, really, considering traumatic experiences induce vivid nightmares and, actually, blind people have more nightmares (though the difference is much slighter that that of the average person if you become blind later in life).

i’m gonna get into the blindness first before i get into the nightmares. some of this is probably going to be scientifically inaccurate, but i mean… this is an anime headcanon.

the more his blindness progressed, the less visual the dreams became, focusing more on sensory experiences; at the same time, the imagery incorporated became more “familiar territory”, by which i mean the elements involved show up in a way he’d been familiar with for a longer experience of time. i guess the best example would be, before the final showdown, he’d seen sasuke once, at around age thirteen. the last few times he was able to see even anything in dreams, one of the few visuals that remained was his family, at the age he killed them; despite not seeing them in years, playing solely off of the most prominent memories.

as he began to see less and less in general, before blacked-out dreams, the more the things less important to him would fade away, out of sight.

as far as dreams go, it’s likely he had very few positive ones while in the akatsuki. i’d imagine more of them came when he could no longer see, but it was still painful, to hear the voices of loved ones and not be able to look into their faces again in the only way you can, knowing you have only a few months left to live.

now onto the nightmares.

more or less as an interesting concept alone, but for the majority of his life, itachi never had nightmares. stress at night manifested solely through insomnia rather than having bad dreams. since he’s a ninja, i would imagine learning to remain composed is sort of an essential asset of the job, and he was probably taught how to do this, so he could at least force himself into sleep, even if he woke up several times or barely felt rested in the morning.

he’s had dreams though, but that’s never been something all that significant to him; i don’t think any of them have been super good dreams.

[ okay just note that i haven’t gotten to the shisui death scene yet i just know that it happens and that’s about it so i’m probably interpreting some stuff wrong ]

but when that happened he couldn’t sleep for 10 full days until he passed out from sleep deprivation.

the first time he had a nightmare was the first time he was able to sleep after killing his clan.

okay actually that’s cool i’m gonna write something with that. ugh OP… your mind…

obviously the nightmares were trauma-based. he had them up until his death, but the further away from the time the event occurred, the more abstract elements worked their way into the dream. he still had the dreams after he lost sight in his dreams, and he felt a bit guilty about it, but he was grateful he didn’t have to look at the eyes and faces of his clan members as he killed them.

for a while after the sasuke encounter during part I, sasuke played a more prominent part in his nightmares, for a good while.

the majority of the nightmares involve bad things happening to sasuke, or him killing his clan, or havoc in the leaf village, since i doubt anything harm that could come upon itachi scares him as much as the thought of those three things.

i imagine both dreams and nightmares are very vivid for itachi, being an observing/calculating/analytical individual he takes in more and has more to process.

as far as parasomnias go, dream-enacting behavior might’ve happened once or twice but i can’t imagine much beyond that.

as for sleeping habits, probably just mindfulness exercises before sleeping, because being someone introspective and having done/been through terrible things you feel guilty about that giving yourself time to think before you sleep is probably not the best of ideas ever.

with worsening depression/illness, itachi’s wanting to just sleep all the time probably amplified. it’s particularly hard, knowing that after closing your eyes the misery will continue or even worsen.

as for altered states of consciousness, i have a personal headcanon that using genjutsu efficiently requires a calm/collected/well cared for mind, otherwise you might not be able to control or even, worst case scenario when you’ve totally lost your marbles, get trapped in your own genjutsu. so i would assume something like meditation/mind training in some way would help you maintain that.

i think that covers everything?

now for a story.

Itachi Uchiha has never had a nightmare before in his life.

“Why?!”

He doesn’t need to.

“W-Why would you do this?!”

He’s living one.

Itachi talks about wanting to prove his vessel.

Doesn’t mean a single word of it.

… , …

He spends the rest of the night running, getting away and putting as much distance between himself and the Hidden Leaf Village as is completely possible, and in his head the moment plays over and over and over, but it doesn’t feel real, he’s existing in this dreamlike state, as if he’s repeatedly reading some page of a book because his eyes are blurred, unfocused.

He appears calm, at least, he thinks, as he stops running; the one area falling short of perfection in his academy exams was stamina, but a fighting style rooted primarily in genjutsu more than makes up for that missing proficiency. He has… a lot of emotions to process, really, it’s foreign territory when the majority of his emotional responses have a tendency towards being at least moderately underwhelming. This whole endeavor, every part of it, it’s been so stressful, so painful, deep hurt powerful enough that it manifests physically in his body, chest bleeding with.

Sadness.

Loss.

Loneliness.

Remorse.

He wonders if he should feel remorse, or at least, if remorse is logically applicable here. He was doing this to save the village, it would have happened either way, but at least this way Sasuke his safe, holding that sword with the metal drinking in and shining out the colors of moonlight, silver gleam broken by patches of slightly rusted crimson, red like roses lovers give to each other; blood of his ancestors and uncles and aunts and cousins and his parents and. And anyways. His little brother would’ve died, if it had been anyone but him. His clan was going to stage a coup, start a war, the death toll would’ve been worse, so many of the Uchihas would’ve died in it anyways, at least he put them out of their misery fast, and-

These are rationalizations.

Itachi knows this.

But he saved the village, he thinks.

It was going to happen anyways.

Sasuke will grow stronger, Itachi will ensure it, kill him and paint the clan name in new colors; clean off the bloodstained sins Itachi left on his blade. Sasuke will go back to the village a hero, Itachi thinks. Find happiness and acceptance, slaughterer of his criminal brother, sociopathic mass-murderer, heart and soul black as the eyes of crows.

Itachi is orchestrating his own divine justice. Playing as a deity in order to be purged by an angel of his own creation.

… , …

He’s sitting underneath a pine tree, long bark-wrinkled branches with needle fingers hang lazily from its sides. It’s still night, but in a few hours, it’ll be dawn, Itachi’s internal clock estimates. Still, the sky above him is as dark as a scorpion’s carapace, white stars speckled across like the shine on its shell. By now the world up above the deciduous forest is moonless, clouds consume it like parasites. It’s not that cold, or it could be colder, but maybe Itachi’s body is just numb from.

Everything.

Anyways, he’s exhausted. Doesn’t know where he’ll go from here. Thirteen-year-old self too life-drained to carry on much further. He lays down on a bed of pine needles, rough against his back, stinging in minutely; closes his eyes.

He thinks sleep won’t come easily.

He’s wrong.

But Itachi promises himself one thing before he fades down into unconsciousness.

If he can, he never wants to kill anyone, ever again.

… , …

Itachi is in the Uchiha compound, night’s almost fallen, the sky is painted indigo from the tail ends of dusk.

Many battles ensue.

Itachi wins all of them

His parents sit next to each other, in their room, side by side, execution style.

They talk about some things.

Itachi kills them.

Sasuke is crying.

If you want to defeat me, you need these eyes, Itachi says.

He’s already mentioned that he never cared about him, this whole time.

There’s nobody else in the world Itachi could ever care about more.

… , …

Itachi wakes up with tears heavy in his eyes, breathing hard, the milky pink of dawn has managed to claw its way into the sky and the first breaths of light whisper down between leaves and what was that.

Rationally, Itachi knows it’s a nightmare, but his heart is still fast and his breathing is a bit sped up and his eyes are wide, less characteristic emotional expression (though the normal tends to be majorly apathy, with any other responses muted partially).

He’s.

He’s never had one of these before.

It felt so real, and his dreams, they’ve always been vivid, mainly processing stressors or other events that provoked a more intense response from him; he’s never needed to analyze them, because his sleeping mind still holds hands with reality, and so now, this, this reliving it, as it happened, had to look into his relatives’ death-fearing eyes, had to act on notions antithetic to his moral code of pacifism, had to murder so many people.

Itachi shakes his head, tries not to dwell on it for too long.

He has a life he needs to figure out what to do with, until its preordained end.

… , …

He has that dream many, many more times.

It doesn’t get better, any of them.

… , …

Itachi is already halfway out of one of the two beds he’s rented at the inn, soft and luxurious and feather down mattress, as Kisame begins to speak. Asks Itachi if it’s another nightmare.

Itachi says nothing. The yes is unspoken.

Kisame asks Itachi if it’s the same one.

“Partially.” Itachi says. “Though devoid of all visual imagery.”

Kisame makes a jest, something along the lines of ‘finally, huh’? Itachi finds it non-offensive. He’s trying to be supportive, lighten the situation. Itachi doesn’t laugh at much anything, anymore. Kisame still tries.

“It’s been this way for some time, actually.” I just never wanted to talk about it.

He’s going to sit outside, take some space, as he does. This is a regular occurrence. Kisame tells him to come back soon.

… , …

Itachi comes back after around thirty minutes. Kisame is still awake, likely awaiting his safe return. It’s considerate.

He reminds Itachi that they’ll be at the Uchiha Hideout soon.

Itachi wouldn’t have forgotten ever. The scene of the final showdown, holy retribution, smite by the angelic.

… , …

This is Itachi’s last night alive.

He hopes the night is dreamless.

… , …

It isn’t.

But actually, in a good way.

… , …

Itachi is practicing shurikenjutsu, he’s around thirteen, sort of, leaps into the air in cat smooth motions, the throwing stars bounce off of each other and white shines across the metal. It’s warm and summery and the rare breaths of wind are hot, comforting almost. The trees are painted golden at the edges by sunlight, shuriken impale the targets on them, biting into their canvas skin.

Perfect score.

Sasuke is there, too, a child, around seven. He’s smiling and there are stars in his dark eyes and he’s looking at his older brother like Itachi is going to give him the world.

“Can you teach me that, too?” His voice just bleeds excitement and awe, he wants to be just like his older brother who is the Best Ninja Ever. Itachi extends his hand, moves his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. There’s a half moon smile of white teeth suddenly there on Sasuke’s face, he runs towards his brother, and Itachi uses his index and middle finger, pokes in the middle of Sasuke’s forehead, who flinches back, makes a pouting face, knowing the next sentence by heart.

“I’m sorry Sasuke, maybe next time.”

“You always say that.”

Itachi smiles apologetically, then thinks about it. Is he really busy right now? He usually is; he planned to finish his training and help his father with some mission work. But… Well, considering the state of things, he might not have more opportunities like this.

So that can wait until another time.

“I think I may be free now, actually.” Itachi sees Sasuke’s whole being shine brighter and warmer than the sun.

Itachi teaches Sasuke the beginnings of shurikenjutsu. Sasuke learns quickly, and glows in every word of his older brother’s praise and encouragement.

At the end of it all, Sasuke grabs Itachi, hugs him tight.

“Thank you, older brother.”

And Itachi feels…

Happy.

… , …

Suddenly, things are different. His body hurts, all over, it’s cold around him, dark, Itachi’s vision is blurred and then he realizes where he is, remembers that this world, this is his reality. Kisame is already awake, it’s morning, they have to get ready for… what’s next, for Itachi.

Kisame tells Itachi that he should’ve woken him up earlier, but he didn’t.

“Why?”

Apparently he was smiling in his sleep. Kisame asks what he was dreaming about.

Itachi has to think for a while, before he finds the right thing to say.

… , …

“How things should have been.”

#ask #drabbles

9 notes · View notes

gimmesomeclout-blog · 5 years

Text

The Final Blog Post

For my final blog post of my first year, I wanted to highlight the two topics that intrigued me the most, orientalism and the avant garde. Orientalism is a concept that blew my mind; it made me question the things around me, whether it was a social issue or a product, it stimulated me to ask whether or not it was a produce of orientalism. Orientalism revolves around history; I kept asking myself the question, 'What if history was different?' and would begin to imagine the various timelines that the world could have fallen into. The avant garde fascinated me ; it was interesting for me to research different pieces of art and artists and finding out what was considered groundbreaking for it's time, when you compare these innovative new methods to the pieces that are created today, you can really see how the influence of such an artist or piece has slowly and gradually developed into another style or merged with other ones to create a completely new style or genre. The various lectures throughout the year have encouraged me to ask more questions than ever about everything around me, the tantalising subjects of each lecture were what made me look at things differently and sparked my curiosity into the world around me and it's origin.

Edward W. Said said in his groundbreaking book, Orientalism, said that Orientalism is the basic distinction between East and West as the starting point for elaborate theories, epics, novels, social descriptions, and political accounts concerning the Orient, its people, customs, ‘mind,’ destiny and so on.”

In essence, Orientalism is a thought process that imagines, emphasizes, and distorts differences of Arab peoples and cultures as compared to that of Europe and the U.S. It often involves seeing Arab culture as exotic, backward, uncivilised, and at times dangerous, whilst simultaneously viewing European culture as civilised, innovative and prestigious.

Because of Orientalism, the Western Civilisation saw themselves as more superior and civilised; since the Western civilisation is the dominant one in history, they painted an untrue picture of those in the Eastern culture. Art, history and all other historical accounts of the Eastern civilisation paint a darker picture for them; showing them to be misogynistic and savage.

An example of this would be the French colonisation of Algeria from 1830 to 1962. French entrepreneurs produced postcards of Algerian women that were circulated in France. Rather than actually capturing the Algerian women in their day-to-day lives, French photographers actually set them up in a studio which made them look strange in the French colonial perspective. The postcards depicted them in a way to make Algerian customs to look exotic, backwards and strange. This is an example of how Arab women were exoticized and eroticised for the pleasure of male European voyeurs who had fantasises of penetrating the harem.

Although Orientalism only refers to the places within the orient, Africa is still effected by the views of the occident. The Western people looked down on Africa when they first arrived there, they saw them as exotic, uncivilised and savage people and then decided that their culture was superior and started the slave trade. To this day, black people are still prejudiced by Western culture; after Hurricane Katrina, people would go to stores and take whatever they could, but when the media showed this: black and other ethnic people were ‘looting’ rather than ‘gathering supplies’ when white people were shown doing the exact same thing.

The historical impact of Orientalism can be seen in both a negative and positive way. The positive way of looking at Orientalism is that it has benefited our technology, standard of life and social life. Because of the history we currently have, everything that has happened thus far has brought us to this age of technology; where we’re able to connect with those on the other side of the world, get information and broadcast our opinions instantaneously. The negative way of looking at the historical impact of Orientalism is much more complex. In this way, orientalism paved the way for white supremacy: we can only make assumptions as to what would’ve happened differently if the moments in history where the occident didn’t see the orient as inferior; would we still have the technology that we do today? Would it be more or less advanced than the present? Would racism between Western cultures and everywhere else still be present? What would beauty standards be like? Unfortunately, there's no way of knowing and all we can do is speculate about what could have been.

The Avant Garde is defined as the new and experimental ideas and methods in art, music or literature; avant garde is the word ‘vanguard’ in French, the vanguard are soldiers who fight at the front line and push forward against entrenched opposition, and the artists, composers and writers who were pushing and innovating past the norms of their time were very much comparable to the vanguard.

Real progress can only be made through failure and whoever wishes to advance must be prepared to fail. The avant garde is all about constant innovation, taking risks and thinking forward, so that the boundaries are always being pushed. Without the avant garde, the creative arts would be stagnant and would be full of artists, composers/musicians and writers etc. that all do things the same way; there would be no originality and we wouldn’t be able to innovate and improve anything around us.

The avant garde started in the nineteenth century, with artists such as Kirchner, Gaugin and Courbet who were challenging long-established concepts and ideas about art and fighting an entrenched establishment. Kirchner was an expressionist painter from the nineteenth century; he was part of a group called Die Brücke (The Bridge). They were called the bridge because they were trying to abstain from the traditional academic styles and find a new way of artistic expression, therefore forming a bridge between the past style and the present. Kirchner was able to express freedom, energy and feeling through his use of brush strokes and evocative colours. This approach and style is why Kirchner is considered to be an avant grade artist. Unfortunately, Kirchner was labelled a ‘degenerate artist’ by the Nazis, leading his works to be censored and denied the work public exposure. Because of artists like Kirchner, artists were inspired to express themselves in their own ways, this birthed many art movements of the twentieth century such as expressionism featuring artists like Van Gogh and Munch, cubism, futurism and many more.

In the contemporary creative arts, the avant grade are still pushing boundaries of their respective arts and are probably more frequent than ever. Because of the sheer number of people who are now involved in the arts, there are more and more people everyday trying to innovate and expand beyond the norms and beyond what should be possible.

I believe that the avant grade and creativity go hand-in-hand, one cannot exist without the other. One of the most avant garde creatives of our generation, Steve Jobs, said this, “Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesise new things.” Jobs put it perfectly; because of all of these creatives who are able to synthesise new things, the bridge between the past and the present is getting bigger. Creatives are becoming more and more frequent, and there will be a lot of things that will be seen as weird or crazy, maybe it's simply pushing the boundaries of it's respective art, or maybe it's just avant garde.

I’ve learnt a lot from my first year on this course; I’m leaving my first year at Kingston knowing that I picked the right course for me, I have a very good set of lecturers and course leaders and that I’ve gained more than just institutional intelligence from them. I found the subject matter of each lecture very engaging, but it was the lecturers that drove the topics into me and made me question everything around me and within me. As a British-Filipino growing up in a lower-class area, there were social, ethical and racial issues that I witnessed and experienced first hand; it was only because of the lectures that I attended, I was able to understand why such things were and still are happening. The course content is so much more stimulating than I had anticipated; the creative and cultural industries looks at many more problems, issues and stigmas within society and the industry, I didn’t know more than half of the things we were taught before coming onto the course. Hopefully this final blog post has done justice to my lecturers and course leaders, that I am more than capable of being able to talk about concepts and social issues and their effects on society and the industry; that I am more than the fashionable (?), loud-mouthed, quick-to-comment young Asian adult that I appear to be on the surface, and that maybe, just maybe, some of the intelligence, social awareness and understanding of my inspirational lecturers and course leaders may have been passed onto me.

References:

Name unavailable, What is Orientalism? | Reclaiming Identity: Dismantling Arab Stereotypes, Arabstereotypes.org, Website, http://arabstereotypes.org/why-stereotypes/what-orientalism

Name unavailable, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, En.wikipedia.org, Website, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernst_Ludwig_Kirchner

Name unavailable, What is the Avant-Garde? Art Movements & Styles, YouTube, Website/Video, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0hQydmGdYA

Barbara I Gongini, Avant-Garde Fashion: A Modern Definition - Barbara I Gongini, Barbaraigongini.com, Website, https://barbaraigongini.com/universe/blog/avant-garde-fashion-a-modern-definition/

5 notes · View notes

oscopelabs · 7 years

Text

Dallas through the Looking Glass: Post-Truth and Kennedy Assassination Movies by Chris Evangelista

Here’s an alarming statistic: a recent CBS News poll revealed 74% of Republican voters believe the conspiracy theory that the offices of Donald Trump were wiretapped during the 2016 presidential campaign, despite there being absolutely no evidence to support that claim. But conspiracy theories are easy to grasp onto. Another poll, this one by Fairleigh Dickinson University, says 63% percent of American voters believe in “at least one political conspiracy theory.” There’s a strange comfort in believing a conspiracy—a sense that you are in the know, while others are on the outside looking in; that you, and a select few others, have discovered the truth, while everyone else is still in the dark.

Conspiracy theories surrounding presidents are nothing new. The wiretapping conspiracy theory, however, had the unlikely distinction of being made popular by the president himself, via Mr. Trump’s serially inaccurate Twitter feed. Trump himself has made his entire political career about conspiracy theories: his current ascendance in the world of politics, for instance, owes something to his leadership of the “Birther” movement—the not-so-thinly veiled racist belief that President Barack Obama is not an American citizen. At the time, Trump and his hateful ilk were on the fringe. Now they’re running the country. Welcome to the post-truth era. Welcome to the world of “alternative facts.”

Shortly after the startling 2016 presidential election, the Oxford Dictionaries selected “post-truth” as the international word of the year. The term is defined as “relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.” Yet this post-truth way of thinking is nothing new—rather, it has finally gone from existing somewhere on the fringes to playing a role in the mainstream. Perhaps the most overwhelming source of post-truth logic had been in plain sight for the last 53 years, in the conspiracy buff movement that has studied and dissected the November 22, 1963 assassination of President John F. Kennedy. And, as is the case with any event that shocks the world, it was only a matter of time before art attempted to make sense of reality.

In 1973, ten years after JFK’s assassination, Executive Action found its way into theaters, starring Burt Lancaster, with a script by Dalton Trumbo. Imagine if in 2011 a film about 9/11 being an inside job written by Aaron Sorkin and starring Tom Hanks had been released, and you might have some concept of how startling Executive Action likely seemed. Here was a no-nonsense thriller, inter-spliced with actual newsreel footage of Kennedy, concerning a shadowy cabal of businessmen who make up their minds to murder the president. They have their reasons: Kennedy pulling out of Vietnam will be bad; Kennedy’s support of civil rights will lead to a “black revolution”; Kennedy is taking the country in a distressingly “liberal” direction. What are a group of businessmen, oil tycoons, and ex-US intelligence members to do but put together a very intricate, somewhat convoluted plot to kill JFK and frame a hapless patsy, Lee Harvey Oswald?

Executive Action was the brainchild of attorney and conspiracy buff Mark Lane, who wrote multiple books on the assassination. (Although rumor has it that it was actor Donald Sutherland who came up with the idea first, and tasked Lane with writing a script for him to star in.) Director David Miller’s approach to the script is workmanlike: lots of medium shots, lots of by-the-numbers blocking. No frills. But there is an undeniable effectiveness to the film, mostly in how calmly everything is handled. When you contrast this film with Oliver Stone’s JFK (more on that later), which tells almost the same story, it’s night and day. Stone’s film is frantic, unhinged, to the point that you can almost see the perforations as the film shakes off the reels. Executive Action is cold, businesslike, much like the men who nonchalantly plan to kill the most powerful man in the world. Lancaster, with his clipped cadence, has never been so chilling. He has a simple job—hire men to kill JFK—and he does it the way any everyman might approach a difficult but not impossible task. There’s no drama, no wringing of hands, no moral conundrum. It makes Executive Action all the more believable. Everyone is so calm and collected here that you can’t help but think, “Well, maybe this is how it happened.” (It’s not.)

On the heels of Executive Action came Alan J. Pakula’s darkness-drenched The Parallax View. Parallax isn’t a direct take on the Kennedy assassination, but the implications are unmistakable. Once again, we have a group of shadowy captains of industry pulling the strings behind the scenes. Once again, we have an unfortunate patsy set up to take the fall for a political assassination. Notice a thread here: a lone gunman is framed and blamed. An angry lone nut takes the fall while the real killers go unnoticed, or worse—remain in power, unstoppable. So disillusioned were the American people by both JFK’s death and Watergate that it was easy to believe the forces of darkness were calling the shots.

The bulk of narrative films that address the Kennedy assassination almost all revolve around the assumption that the official story—Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone—was bunk. After all, who was Oswald? A nobody. A scrawny runt with dyslexia. How could one insignificant man alter the course of history? At the same time, why isn’t it more believable that a man with an unstable personality carried out the Kennedy assassination, rather than a multi-tiered, far-reaching conspiracy of shadowy men in smoke-filled rooms? The real Lee Harvey Oswald was a controlling abuser—a man who beat his Russian wife and insisted she never learn English so that he would be her only point of contact in America; a man who resented any and all authority; and a man who, months before the assassination, in April, actually attempted to carry out another assassination of notorious John Birch Society member Major Edwin Walker (an event most conspiracy films never even mention).

If there is one film that conspiracy lore owes the most debt to, it’s Oliver Stone’s 1991 blockbuster JFK. A meticulously crafted, downright brilliant thriller, JFK blends fact and fiction so deftly that one could be forgiven for thinking the film was more of a history lesson than a piece of pop entertainment. Stone, for his part, did very little to clarify what his intentions were. He said in an interview with the New York Times that “every point, every argument, every detail in the movie...has been researched, can be documented, and is justified.” Stone also claimed the film was a “history lesson” and that he was “trying to reshape the world through movies.” Stone also dubbed himself a “cinematic historian” during promotion for the film. Years later, in Matt Zoller Seitz’s expansive The Oliver Stone Experience, Stone had changed his tune slightly: “I don’t call myself a historian. I call myself a dramatist.” In Seitz’s book, Stone seems to downplay the “every detail can be justified” claim and fall back on his speculative fiction angle, although he’s still clearly convinced of a conspiracy.

As a work of fiction, JFK is a masterpiece. Stone, a team of editors, and cinematographer Robert Richardson create an immersive trip through the wild world of JFK conspiracy lore. Stone needed a hero to center the film’s sweaty, paranoid ramblings, and he found it in New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison. As played by Kevin Costner, Stone’s Garrison is a Capra-esque hero, a truth seeker committed to doing the right thing, no matter what the cost. “Let justice be done though the heavens fall!” Garrison trumpets to a team of reporters. JFK has Garrison cracking open the Kennedy case by first looking into the time Lee Harvey Oswald (played with eerie chameleon-like fervor by Gary Oldman) spent in New Orleans, and then cracking open the whole can of worms. Oswald, Garrison learns, is just what he said he was—a patsy. The real killers of Kennedy were the military industrial complex, or maybe the FBI, or maybe the CIA, or maybe the mafia. Or maybe…. well, the list goes on. Despite Stone’s claims at the time of the film being a history lesson, he never presents an entirely concrete connection between any of these conspirators.

The first half of JFK sets up the pieces: here is who may have been involved with the assassination and we’re not sure how all these people fit together, but one thing we know for sure is that Oswald didn’t pull the trigger. The back end of the film turns into a courtroom melodrama, with Garrison bringing local New Orleans businessman Clay Shaw (played with a chilly sophistication by Tommy Lee Jones) to trial for being one of the lead instigators of the assassination plot. Eventually, Shaw is found innocent, and rightfully so—the film presents almost no real evidence to prove Shaw had anything to do with the alleged conspiracy, save for the testimony of a male prostitute, Willie O’Keefe (Kevin Bacon, having the time of his life). Here is where a moral conundrum arises: Clay Shaw was a real person, and really was brought to trial by Garrison. Willie O’Keefe is fictional, a character inspired by a man named Perry Russo. The problem: Russo was so undependable as a witness, his credibility so suspect, and his story so inconsistent, that Stone had to create a fictional character in order to get the story he wanted.

There are more problems with Stone’s approach. The real Jim Garrison was not the crusader for truth the film makes him out to be. The historical Garrison was actually a man who would’ve fit right in with the Trump administration. “Most of the time you marshal the facts, then deduce your theories,” said former First Assistant D.A. and Garrison associate Charles Ward. “But Garrison deduced a theory, then he marshaled his facts. And if the facts didn’t fit he’d say they had been altered by the CIA.” Garrison, for his part, even doubled down on this backwards logic, stating at one point, “The district attorney can make any statements he wishes,” truth be damned. Whatever evidence Garrison lacked, he seems to have fabricated. Most considered his bringing Shaw to trial a miscarriage of justice, and after Shaw was swiftly acquitted, Garrison mostly languished in obscurity. Even the conspiracy buffs distanced themselves from him. Then Stone, and Hollywood, came calling, and Garrison was back in the limelight.

If you’re able to remove the historical elements from JFK, you can easily enjoy it. But when you start to dissect the truth, or at least what’s known of the truth, the waters get murky. JFK’s Oswald is presented as an innocent bystander, unaware of the dark forces working behind the scenes to set him up for the biggest murder in American history. In one wisely deleted scene from the film, Stone even had the ghost of Oswald take the stand during the Shaw trial and flat-out proclaim, “I am innocent!” Vincent Bugliosi’s gargantuan Reclaiming History: The Assassination of President John F. Kennedy is one of the most definitive books written on the Kennedy assassination, and Mr. Bugliosi lays out page after page of evidence that points to Oswald’s guilt—evidence that’s either never touched on or outright altered in Stone’s film. Stone completely ignores the incident where Oswald, using the same gun that was proven to have killed Kennedy, attempted to kill Major Edwin Walker. The film also casually omits the fact that the morning of the assassination, Oswald received a ride to work from a coworker who claimed Oswald had a long, wrapped package with him. Oswald claimed the package was just “some curtain rods”—though why he was bringing curtain rods to work was a mystery. Also a mystery: after Oswald was arrested, he denied bringing any curtain rods. Later, the brown wrapping paper the “curtain rods” were wrapped in was found on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository, where the shooting allegedly took place. So either Oswald really did bring curtain rods to work, unwrapped them, and then they mysterious vanished, or what he actually had was his rifle. Or perhaps the coworker was lying and in on the conspiracy.

Other casually omitted or altered facts from Stone’s film: during the assassination, a man named Howard Brennan looked up and saw Oswald in a window of the book depository, rifle in hand. Later, as Oswald fled the crime scene, he was believed to have shot and killed Officer J.D. Tippet. Stone’s film presents a scenario in which no one was able to identify Oswald as the shooter of Tippet, when in fact there were ten separate eyewitnesses who placed Oswald at the scene. The list goes on and on. The argument could be made that art has no obligation to the truth. Dramatic license is the bedrock of most biopics and “true story” films. But this is a gray area when it comes to JFK, a film with weighted dialogue like “Fundamentally, people are suckers for the truth. And the truth is on your side.” On top of this, JFK has the distinction of bringing about legislative changes. So popular was Stone’s film that Congress passed the President John F. Kennedy Assassination Records Collection Act of 1992, which established the collection of all U.S. records regarding the Kennedy assassination to be housed in the National Archives. All of this, coupled with the film’s newsreel opening, lends an air of legitimacy to JFK. It turns speculation into perceived truth, intentional or not.

The year following JFK saw the release of Ruby, a film so far removed from historical fact that you’d be hard pressed to find anything true within its plot. Danny Aiello gives Oswald’s killer Jack Ruby a dignity the real Ruby never had, and turns him into something of a folk hero—a man who, like Stone’s Garrison, is committed to doing the right thing. Ruby borders on spy-thriller territory, with Ruby being drafted as a mafia hitman who gets wrapped up in a conspiracy spinning out of control. It’s mostly forgotten, and for good reason. Aside from Aiello’s soulful take on the Dallas nightclub owner, the film is unremarkable. 1993 gave audiences In the Line of Fire, where the Kennedy assassination haunts an aging Secret Service agent (played by Clint Eastwood) who was there that day in Dallas and failed to save Kennedy’s life. In the Line of Fire eschews conspiracy trappings but once again delegates Oswald to a footnote, an afterthought. In the film, a lone nut (played memorably by John Malkovich as something of an inhuman trickster) taunts Eastwood’s Secret Service agent with his plot against the current president via threatening phone calls. “Call me Booth,” Malkovich instructs Eastwood. “Why not Oswald?” Eastwood asks. “Because Booth had flair, panache,” replies Malkovich. “A leap to the stage after he shot Lincoln.” Oswald just isn’t dramatic enough for this assassin to emulate—and then again, maybe he was innocent?

2002’s Interview With the Assassin is an unjustly overlooked, highly creative take on conspiracy lore. Told in faux documentary style, the film follows an amateur filmmaker (Dylan Haggerty) approached by his elderly next door neighbor (a creepy yet hilarious Raymond J. Barry). The neighbor has a story to tell: it was he, not Lee Harvey Oswald, who delivered the fatal JFK head shot. As the filmmaker follows the alleged assassin, he first comes to believe the man’s story, then begins to have his doubts, convinced that the neighbor is just a deranged nut, before coming back around to belief for the film’s conclusion, all while the specters of shadowy government agents lurk in the background. Again, just as Executive Action and JFK deployed documentary-style footage to lend an air of legitimacy to their narratives, Interview with the Assassin is deceptively plausible. In fact, if you were unfamiliar with Raymond J. Barry, a great character actor with 114 screen credits to his name, you might actually fall into the Blair Witch Project trap and believe this really is a documentary, so believable and convincing is Barry’s performance.

As the 21st century progressed, the filmic approach to the Kennedy assassination shifted. Conspiracy began to take a back seat to attempts at “setting the record straight.” Perhaps in the specter of 9/11, with its “inside job” nuts coming out of the woodwork to proclaim, “Jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams!”, or in light of the deplorable “Sandy Hook truthers,” who have the unmitigated gall to claim the murder of 20 children was a “false flag,” Hollywood has lost its taste for propping up conspiracies. 2013’s Parkland told a Short Cuts-like story of the minutes and hours following the assassination: From the team of doctors who valiantly but fruitlessly tried to save JFK’s life to a befuddled Abraham Zapruder (Paul Giamatti) coming to terms with the fact that by filming the head shot he’s now in possession of the most important “home movie” in history to Robert Oswald (James Badge Dale), whose entire life is suddenly upended by his estranged brother Lee (Jeremy Strong). Parkland doesn’t delve into the investigation, but makes it clear it believes Oswald is the sole killer. The film is curiously flat, failing to hit any of the big emotional beats it strives for. Where it succeeds is in taking the time to show the blood and confusion inside the Parkland hospital emergency room, and it does highlight the surreal occurrence of Oswald being wheeled into the same hospital with his own fatal wound so soon after the assassination.

Oddly, the most historically accurate portrayal of the assassination, and the events leading up to it, can be found in a work of science fiction. The Hulu mini-series adaptation of Stephen King’s 11.22.63 draws on King’s meticulous research into Oswald, and shows Oswald’s tumultuous, abusive marriage as well as his failed assassination attempt on Edwin Walker. It also shows him pulling the trigger. The twist in this whole narrative is that this is a time travel story, about a 21st century English teacher (James Franco) who goes back in time to try to stop Oswald. Franco’s character can only travel to 1960, and thus has to wait it out till 1963. He can’t just outright kill Oswald, though, because the doubt remains: what if Oswald really is innocent? As a result, 11.22.63 becomes a detective story, with Franco’s time traveller trying to piece together evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Oswald really is going to kill JFK, and then stop him. Of all the JFK films, 11.22.63 is the first to truly represent how unpleasant and abusive Lee Harvey Oswald was. As played by Daniel Webber, Oswald is a cruel jerk with delusions of grandeur, convinced he’s destined for greater things if only everyone would just get out of his way. This is closest to the real Oswald, based on the testimony of those who knew him, including his wife Marina. At one point, the real Oswald even boasted that one day he’d obtain the non-existent office of “Prime Minister of America.” The Oswald in 11.22.63 is an entirely different species than the sainted black-and-white ghost who takes the stand in JFK and proclaims his innocence.

Pablo Larraín’s recent Jackie took the assassination narrative further than any film before it by dealing directly with the effect it had on both the nation and Kennedy’s widow (Natalie Portman). Jackie is obsessed with myth making, and much like the myths and conspiracies that sprung up in the years following JFK’s death, the film is awash in events that bend the truth and stagger the mind. A numbing effect sets in, as grief gives way to acceptance and some attempt at understanding. As doctors perform an autopsy on her husband at Bethesda Naval Hospital, Jackie, her pink dress stained with blood and gore, paces around the emergency room in a fury. “It had to be some silly little communist,” she spits as word of Oswald’s arrest for the murder spreads. “If [Jack had] been killed for civil rights, at least then it would have meant something, you know?” This line of dialogue from Noah Oppenheim’s script gets to the heart of the conspiracy movement: perhaps if the reasoning behind Kennedy’s murder had been some grander scheme instead of the actions of a lone gunman grasping at fame, then maybe there would be more meaning behind all of this. Maybe then life wouldn’t be so arbitrary, so random.

Jackie plans her husband’s funeral as pageantry; it’s not just a somber service, it’s a Hollywood remake of Abraham Lincoln’s funeral, with a march through wintry streets as all the world is watching. Following the funeral, she tells her story to a reporter (Billy Crudup), but she dictates the direction the story goes. She wants final approval over his story, and forbids him from writing up certain elements—like the fact that she smokes. “I’m just trying to get to the truth,” Crudup’s reporter says. “The truth?” Jackie replies. “Well I’ve grown accustomed to a great divide between what people believe and what I know to be real.” “Fine,” says the reporter. “I’ll settle for a story that’s believable.”

So must we all, especially here in whatever post-truth reality we find ourselves stuck in. The problems begin when we decide to pick and choose what it is we consider “believable,” and who we believe. “People like to believe in fairytales,” Portman’s shell-shocked Jackie tells us. Before the 2016 presidential election, one could safely argue the case for eschewing truth for the sake of art. Now, things might not be so simple. A decisive lack of truth unquestionably contributed to our current situation, just as a decisive lack of truth is integral to the bulk of the films that attempt to dissect the JFK assassination. In these films, the truth is what we make of it. Some may find comfort in that, but these days, the implications are terrifying.

13 notes · View notes

tdrcycle09 · 7 years

Text

Rags To Riches Ball Part I: Unconventional Talent Category

In our first part of our Rags To Riches Ball, our queens had to create their own unconventional outfits using objects that made us gag! And, as an extra part on this category, the girls had to create a talent video. Let’s see how they do!

Analyse Thropic

Lila: UGH! UGGGGGHHHHH! I am absolutely adoring this entire thing from head to toe. Every little piece has a detail, every little thought is so meticulously planned, and I live for it. Looking at this now, it’s no joke - what you’ve done in 7 months, across charm school, across this cycle, you’ve became this truly unstoppable force of powerhouse talent, and this outfit really stamps on the map how much you’ve progressed, from not even sewing at all, to becoming this powerhouse of DIY. Mary, I salute you.The ONLY THING - and it’s absolutely miniscule - your mushroom cut is doing the same as what happened to me - one of the hairs is flaring out making it off-kilter and once I noticed it, I’m like “ugh, this is glaring at me so much”. For your talent - I genuinely respect that you sat there, created a little scene and could master really singing without the camera’s audio clipping or distorting. You’re not the best singer, yes, but honestly, I was dancing to the song and having the occasional chuckle. I’m glad we didn’t get that stilted Weather Girl™ shot you’ve been criticised for in the past, and you kept me entertained for the entire video. I loved this, and you’re cementing yourself to be such a powerhouse in drag!

Letha: Analyse, the amount of work and detail that went into this look is honestly astounding. The playing card skirt, the accessories, the little crown, even the little nails, it's all so great and is a smart use of them materials. I think the stole/wrap would have worked better if it was just a piece on the shoulders, as it kind of closes you off. The hair has such great volume but I think the structure fell apart a bit from when you initially styled it. I will say I'm not loving the shape you've created, as it's a bit boxy. Either more flare from the skirt or more cinch from the corset would have helped define the silhouette a bit more. The makeup is very graphic and cartoony and is some of your best work of the cycle, as far as blending goes. Your talent video was hilARIOUS and very on brand for you, very Quirky Dique Pigue. You have a good voice and the sing/speak style worked very well. All in all, you really impressed me with your work on this challenge!

Toni: 301’S ON THE BOTTOM I C O N I C!!!! I really like this look, I think it was smart to take a character for inspiration and build the look around that. I love that from head to toe you used unconventional materials, even down to the brows and nails, so props for creative use of uncon. I do wish you had a bit more shape and a bigger bottom skirt for this look because it really would have pushed that wow factor for me. I also think you could have benefited from a staff or a scepter The wig is a big rough on one side and I wish you had taken the time to fix that up. Onto your makeup I live that you used 301’s on the bottom, and cards as the brows.You did a good job of keeping your makeup from getting muddy but I do wish you had lined your lips with a darker color. Onto your talent I think you really picked a strong talent, along with a strong song choice that really showed off who you are as queen!! I think it could have been done with a little editing such as the parts where its like you jumping from conversation to conversation. You could have easily edited that to have a fade between each one just to have it make more sense.

Gluttoni: This look is an ace Analyse and you look like a fucking QUEEN! This is the type of tedious, detailed work that makes fashion great. And my sweet you look fucking great. I’m such a fan of classic fairytales and I’m obsessed with your nod to the Queen of Hearts. You really excel in whimsical fantasy looks. The hair looks very grand so congrats on the styling of that and the makeup with card accents are great tie ins to this extravagant look. All in all, I loved the styling of this look. The only this is that I compare it to past looks that have done exactly like this but otherwise this a finished, polished look. Your talent! WOW. I’m not too versed in musical culture besides the one that let me keep my gay card intact but miss lady, YOU DID THAT. I was fully immersed in what you were doing. The set up was simplistic yet effective and I loved the concept beyond words because we’ve all had that awkward Tinder date before. Excellent work in showing us the fact you are multitalented. You went off with these other girl’s head.

Avana Noir

Lila: Wow. Wow, wow, wow. This is above and beyond, and I’m loving this concept a lot. It kind of has this twisted element of like Wonderland meets Final Fantasy meets the Cloud District, and the animals kill all the civillians and you’re killing your ex husband and the fucking full body shot of you with the blood - wow. The blood must be mine after this - that wig is not doing this concept any justice for me. It’s such a lovely colour and it’s those bangs. If you rat combed through it, really detangle it and get it as flat as you can, it would work - because the volume and the raggedy anne of it bar the bangs fit this concept super well, it’s just those bangs - you could’ve done an egg head dress if you wanted the illusion of it looking lace frontal-y and teased it out even more just so the volume stayed, but honestly - that’s just a nitpick. Overall, really cute and a great execution from yourself! Your talent was kind of a little bit here there and everywhere - I know how much of a videographer you are and editing is one of your strongest talents, and for me, there were standout moments, however there were still cracks in what could have otherwise been something really special and showcase-y. It reminds me of those really upclass OOTD videos that are on YouTube, and the only things that could be improved are the set dressing, and perhaps less shaky camera work. All in all, this was extremely fun to watch!

Letha: Hey bitch, it's Avana Noirrrrrrrrr!!!! You are serving straight up Playboy Easter Bunny, and the sex appeal works to balance out the shape of the middle, which could be argued is a bit bulky, but works as whole. I think a tiddy contour could have helped add some definition, though. I love the theme you went with, you better GET that Easter shit on clearance and make a look out of it. The makeup is fun, but a bit sloppy/messy in some places. I know you were going for a bit of a horror vibe here, but I think if there had been some sfx work over a flawless base it would have worked better than just smudging it. The wig is quite frankly a WRECK, but I like the nails and ears. I was confused a bit by your talent when I first saw it, but looking at it as an example of film it's pretty well done. Good job!

Toni:Lets start with your talent. BET. I thought that was a really smart way to do you talent and to give the judges a good look at your makeup and clothes. I love how in the first part you connected the first look to the second and then it had that huge mood shift. I wish you found a way to connect the second to the third because I think that was really cool and made it seem more professional. I think that this look is really cool and super out of the box for you. It was smart to tack the easter supplies that were on sale and sue them that way you got more bang for your buck. I think you could have painted the nails to look like little carrots and that would have been really cool. You also needed some form of strap to really hold everything in place on your shoulders. I think the makeup is very cute and very fitting, but that wig is rough girl. I think if you had styled the bangs down to hide that harsh line you would have been better off.

Gluttoni: Avana! You made it my love. This look is fucking amazing. I love anything cute and dark and you are giving me that! I love that you are giving us Easter feels for this springtime finale. The easter egg bodice almost had me stumped when you mentioned it but you really turned it as far as construction and execution goes. This is very good look and you should be proud of all the work you put in this because it shows. Your talent left me wanting a little more. I get what you were going after but it really just didn’t hit me over the head with feels y’know?

Lexi Lamour

Lila: Your pictures this week are a little hard to make out, but either way, your costuming is absolutely spot on. This is extremely amazing work, honestly. It shows how much effort you can really put into something and it’s just so great to see this crazy flower rainbow display. The colours work so well in this and it’s just an exciting mix. The only thing that I would really change is the hair’s length, the length is sort of swallowing you up and it would’ve been much more perfection if the hair was a little short or pinned up. Your talent was kind of hit-and-miss for me. I don’t brand myself a comedy queen but I’m an embarrassment and also tragique, but some of the jokes could’ve landed a lot better. The sound was kind of swallowing your recording up a lot more too - Some elements were just off and for me, really, the funniest part was at the end when you showed some goofiness. I think it’s because there’s not much of that crack into being “goofy” so the jokes come across rather as a story than jokes. All in all, this category was good for you.

Letha: Lexi, a flower after my own heart. Obviously I love me a good flower look, and the way you combined both the flowers and the colors to make a rainbow is really great. I love the butterfly accents as well as the cloud/bird's nest, and the bright red hair is GREAT, it makes for a really cool gradient blend into the outfit. My only critique would be that the color of your tights kind of throws me, but I know how hard it can be to match them so that's understandable. I think the makeup is very pretty, but I feel like you could have done a bolder lip to keep up with the oomph of the rest of the outfit. For your standup comedy talent video, I must admit I wasn't the biggest fan. There were a couple funny parts and some clever editing choices but all in all it was pretty flat. All in all, it was kind of a mixed bag for me, but I do LOVE the look!

Toni:Hey Lexi! So I really love this body suit with all the flowers, I love the colors on the front but then you turn around and on the back it’s something totally different!!! I think you’ve accessorized it well with the cuff and the butterflies but I do wish there there was something going on towards the bottom because it does get a bit top heavy with the shoulder pads (that I do love). I think the hair is beautiful and really fits the look. Your makeup has improved so much over the cycle and I think I like the eye done with blue more than they one done with yellow and this face would have been perfect if you had done them both that way. Onto your talent that was really funny! I got a lot of good chuckles out of that and it was clear that this is something you’ve practiced and worked on. I think what could have helped this best is by letting the jokes breathe a little and putting more air time in it so that the audience has time to get the jokes.

Gluttoni: Lexi, Lexi, LEXI! You are here to go out with motherfucking bang I see and I’m totally on board for it. You slayed crafting a look out of these materials and I couldn’t be more proud of your work. You look fantastic in red hair and the monarchs were an amazing touch. You look like a rainbow dream and the styling of this is something I didn’t quite expect from you but I must say I love it. Your talent is something else completely unexpected from you. I was on the floor laughing and I’m glad you can really make fun of yourself even through your trying time and that is the makings of a true queen.

Sugar Monroe

Lila: This by far is one of your strongest outfits you’ve created. I believe what you’re selling, the plastic is such a great fabric and because it is layered, it gives this nice effect of white kind of fibery fabric. The pink colour scheme is such a fun look and the entire headpiece is such a fucking strong point of interest. With that being said, where are your backlighting photos? I’m a little let down that there isn’t a light feature that you promised us, but that’s besides the point. I’m proud of this look, I think you should be too. Your talent on the other hand, ehh, it was alright. Alright in a way that I was expecting kind of a little bit more effort of a tally of you getting it wrong or right, maybe seeing the lyrics on screen whilst you sing the songs you were asked to do. You have such a beautiful voice and I’m really glad you always give us a listen to it - you’ve really given us such a great insight into what you can do this cycle and I’m so proud to see you shine where you can stand.

Letha: Sugar, I must say, of your three looks, this is the best put together, and my personal favorite. I would go so far as to say this is the most intricate one of your outfits has ever been. I wish you had done a pic with the tea lights more visible, as that would have been really cool (like in your runway), but I still really like it. Love the headpiece a lot, and the hair is simple but works well with the rest of the look. The makeup is also cute, I would've liked a bit more blending/softening around the edges of the eyes, though. For the talent portion, the singing was okay, but the organization of the video/editing was a bit of a mess. For about the last half, you're out of focus, which sucks, but at least the audio wasn't affected. With that in mind though, this is a solid submission and a testament to your growth throughout this cycle. Great job!

Toni: I think out of all your looks this one is easily my favorite. I think this is so beautiful and exciting to look at. It has so many different layers and textures, along with the lights, head piece, and styling of the with it all really just comes together for me. I really love this look from you. Onto your talent I think it was lacking a bit. The best parts of it for me was when you’d mess up and we’d get to see that spark of sugar humor, I loved that. I wish you had done more of that and just really worked your personality into this, or done another talent that had showcased your humor and personality it would have had a huge payoff.

Gluttoni: Much like all the other judges have said this is by far your crown and glory of all your looks. This outshines your queen look in the terms of being regal and royal looking. You look fucking ethereal in all honestly. I think you’ve had a very smart mindset in how to use your unconventional materials because they are very well placed. The headpiece is so ornate and beautiful so the straight hair fits well. The makeup is so good. I’d personally would add one more lighter color to blend edges out of the pink on the eyes. The talent aspect was just a dry for me although your singing was good. I definitely think you brought it in this category.

#tdr #tdrc9 #final challenge #main challenge

8 notes · View notes

locatie · 4 years

Text

2019 Gaming Year in Review

This year I beat 21 games! Last year I beat 38, but this year was a little rough on me in many ways, and I had to go a few months without really committing to anything.

I’m going to go through my list of games and jot down a few thoughts I had about them! Spoilers ahead, naturally.

Rating System:

5⭐: An absolute favorite! A game that’s going to stick with me for a long time. Regardless of any flaws I found, I fell deeply in love with these games. 4⭐: A pretty good game! I really enjoyed my time with these ones. They’re not quite perfect, maybe a few story beats or mechanics I couldn’t jive with, but I did still love these as well. 3⭐: A decent game! I didn’t fall in love with these games and the good and bad felt fairly equal. I don’t regret playing these games, but they had a lot of room for improvement. 2⭐: A bleh game. Most of these games were very ‘miss’ rather than ‘hit’ for me. Good concepts are probably buried in these ones, but I struggled to get through them. 1⭐: A terrible game. There is very little about these games that I find redeeming. I probably played them wishing they’d be done already. That I finished them at all is a miracle.

In order of when I beat them, starting with the beginning of the year:

Gris by Nomada Studio

4⭐

A visually gorgeous game. The mechanics were satisfying and made puzzle solving enjoyable, and I adored ‘unlocking’ the colors of the world to restore it to its former beauty. The game only got more beautiful as time went on, and the level design was very memorable to me. Also the soundtrack is one of the best of all the games I played this year, and I keep it on repeat a lot.

Best Part: The art in general. A treat to look at, and it makes for the best desktop wallpapers. Worst Part: The ambiguity in narrative. It’s not too bad, I just wish there was a little more to it.

Pokemon Let’s Go Eevee by Game Freak

4⭐

Despite this feeling like the millionth time they’ve focused on the Kanto region, and the blatant baiting of nostalgia, I appreciated this game. I’m a sucker for having my Pokemon follow me or being able to ride them. Much more accessible than going back and replaying the original R/B/Y games, which I can’t seem to enjoy anymore due to the QOL features that newer games have, so if I ever have a craving for Kanto, this will satisfy me. Not the best Pokemon game though just because Kanto was a pretty boring region visually and they stayed true to that, haha.

Best Part: Pokemon following the player! Riding Arcanine was a blast. Worst Part: Being in Kanto again. Really wish it was Gold/Silver for the double Johto/Kanto region thing, because Kanto alone just isn’t worth it.

Kingdom Hearts Final Mix by Square Enix

3⭐

I liked this game a lot as a kid and was interested to see how I would feel about it as an adult. It’s... something. There’s something always very off when JRPG localized dialogue is voiced -- it’s extremely cheesy to listen to in English, and this game is no exception. Still, I enjoy the sheer absurdity that is mashing up Disney and Final Fantasy characters anyway. The platforming is not remotely fun at all and the story is ridiculous, sometimes not in a good way. Thank god for skippable cutscenes or I wouldn’t have survived the end of this game.

Best Part: The creativity of the worlds. It was such a unique and ambitious concept for its time. Worst Part: The dialogue/story. This might be the only JRPG where the whole ‘friendship makes us stronger’ angle makes me want to strangle a fictional child.

Dear Esther by The Chinese Room

2⭐

I do enjoy walking simulators, but apparently not ones by The Chinese Room. Not as bad as Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture, but still...not very enjoyable. I couldn’t seem to process what was going on as it was narrated to me -- I liked how it was written, and I was interested in hearing it, but I dunno. It meant nothing to me. I might replay it and try to grasp it again, really focus on it, but as it was presented to me on the first playthrough, it didn’t grab me. This is what I get for expecting something really good of a game where I wander around aimlessly for a couple hours

Best Part: The writing style is really neat and I enjoyed reading along and being fascinated by the prose. Worst Part: The ambiguity of the narrative. what the fuck is happening. why am i in a cave. who was that i just saw

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey by Ubisoft

4⭐

Not the first AC game I’ve ever played, but the first I liked enough to beat! It’s essentially an action rpg more than ever -- stealth is completely unnecessary if you so choose. I loved Kassandra so, so much, and exploring Greece was extremely fun for me! It was gorgeous and I often found myself wandering around towns and cities, soaking in the sights and feeling pretty dang immersed. I haven’t played the DLC yet but hope to some day. Not a perfect game -- while a lot of side quests are fun, the charm wears off after a while because the gameplay loop of sneaking in and murdering everyone got stale finally after 50 hours. Still, I’d love to go back and replay it some time.

Best Part: Kassandra. Everything about her. I would die for her. Also Greece in its entirety. Worst Part: Every goddamn time Deimos opened his mouth.

Rose of Winter by Pillow Fight

3⭐

A pretty cute but simple visual novel! I liked the protagonist quite a bit and a couple of the romances, but I wished it was longer/more fleshed out. I liked the universe it took place in and the concepts it presented (time travel! Race relations/the variety in cultures!) and would’ve happily played a longer game about these things. The romances leaving me wanting more was a good and bad thing, in the end.

Best Part: The protag! I love this chubby pink-haired knight! She is SO cute and lovely. Worst Part: Lack of depth in the romances. I like drawn-out romances, and these take place over the course of a couple days, and that’s not my bag.

Celeste by Matt Makes Games Inc.

4⭐

My review on this game is a little skewed. I was very bad at it, in the end, and very tired of dying literally hundreds of times in some areas that I had to give myself extra dashes. I had to keep toggling them on and off after giving myself a certain number of tries, because I really wanted to see how this game would play out. The gameplay and design and soundtrack give it the score it has, but the writing it was knocks it down from being a 5 star game. The concept of the story is good! Madeline wanting to reach the top of the mountain for her personal reasons was really lovely but the delivery of it felt very flat. The writing itself didn’t do it justice for me! I only ever see people talk about the gameplay itself and not the story/writing and maybe that’s why.

Best Part: The fact that the developers added accessibility options to people who aren’t very skilled at games, like me, can enjoy a game like this, even if we’re not playing “as intended.” Worst Part: Madeline’s reflection. As a narrative device she’s good, but the dialogue between the two characters was kinda mehhh to me.

The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt by CD Projekt

5⭐

There’s nothing I can say about this game that a million other people haven’t already said. I loved dad!Geralt. I loved Geralt in general. I did enjoy the first two games but who he was as a character in this game was my favorite. Yennefer was also great, as was Ciri, and the family dynamics were The Best. Also probably the best side quests in any rpg I’ve ever played! None of that radiant quest bullshit or fetch quest nonsense that pad a lot of other WRPGs I’ve been into :/ I still need to finish Blood and Wine, but so far it’s incredible, as was Hearts of Stone. Ugh I have so much to say about how much I loved the music, and Skellige, and Novigrad (Novigrad is one of the best video game cities as a worldbuilding device, imo), but I’ll keep this all brief. Don’t like Gwent at all though!!

Best Part: The entire portion of the game where you have to be a Good Dad or else you get a bad ending. Worst Part: The fact that Iorveth and the entire Scoia’tael subplot was cut entirely yet Roche got to stick around. I hate Roche. Iorveth was way better. Bring back my boy.

Persona 5 by Atlus

5⭐

holy shit. I haven’t beaten a JRPG this good in so long. This game changed what I want out of a JRPG. The soundtrack is phenomenal, the design of everything is impossibly stylish and I never got sick of any of it in the 96 hours it took me to beat the game. I adore Joker, Yusuke, Haru, and Ryuji as characters!! I don’t really care for Akechi and Shido as villains, but the proper final battle was very tense for me and the cutscene that followed felt so good. BIG GUN. Sometimes the palaces were a little tedious, and it took me a really long time to actually finish the game from when I started, because I needed big breaks after chunks of the game, but once I got into the swing of it after Makoto’s introduction as a Phantom Thief and that palace, I was pretty sucked in.

I will never forget my desperate struggle to max my stats by aggressively eating giant burgers until the endgame.

Best Part: The entire ‘student daily life sim’ portion. Managing my time and my relationships was very fun and I loved getting closer to my friends and choosing where to go, how to spend my time. Worst Part: The occasional sexism and homophobia that I had to sit through. Giving Ann agency after the first palace, but then trying to convince her to get naked really sucked, and then those two predatory gay men. Ugh. Oh and Ryuji looking at Ann’s boobs all the time. Seriously? are you for real??

Nier: Automata by PlatinumGames

4⭐

I waffled between giving this 4 or 5 stars, but I think 4 is right. I adored this game to bits, but admittedly didn’t do everything in it that I wanted to. I loved the world, the music, most of the characters, the combat, and that fucking ending. I didn’t like Adam and Eve (their dialogue...was so dumb...), and I was a little eh on route B, since it’s a lot of the same as route A, just from 9S’s perspective. At first I thought it was asking a lot to make me essentially do all the same shit over again, but when everything started changing in the third route, that’s when I was getting really invested. I mean I was already loving it during the first route, I was just slightly skeptical about having to replay a lot of the same things.

Ending E fucked me up though. Hearing Weight of the World didn’t hurt me until that ending, after all I’d been through, and then accepting help and hearing the chorus of voices. Ugh. No ending has ever been like that in a game for me.

Best Part: Sacrificing my data to help some stranger out there, because people do want to help. Humanity can be good. The message that there is worth in having feelings and being alive and real and loving. Worst Part: we really out here sexualizing 2B and looking at her panties a lot, huh.

Spyro 2: Ripto’s Rage (Reignited Trilogy) by Toys For Bob

4⭐

This is the Spyro game I played the most of as a kid, and this remaster is incredible. All of the Reignited Trilogy makes the Spyro games look the way that I felt they did when I was a child. Seriously, it’s gorgeous and I can’t believe how true to the originals it is. I had a blast playing this one; it doesn’t get 5 stars, though, because I wouldn’t say this is like a ‘favorite’ game or anything. It’s wonderful, but not mindblowing.

Best Part: Getting to run around the hub worlds and drinking them in -- they’re where I spent hours as a child, and that nostalgic really got to me. Worst Part: the fucking TIMED FLYING PORTIONS

Spyro 3: Year of the Dragon (Reignited Trilogy) by Toys For Bob

4⭐

I was really excited to play this one because I didn’t get to beat it as a kid, and it was impossible to emulate because every rom of it didn’t work. Not as good as Ripto’s Rage to me, personally, because I didn’t love the levels where I was the penguin or the monkey. There were a lot of gimmicks, so to speak, in this game that I could do without. Skateboarding didn’t add anything to the experience either, ehh. Still, 4 stars because what Toys For Bob did with the trilogy is amazing and it made me wish games there had been more Spyro games that were like this.

Best Part: I finally got to beat this game after so long and it felt like a childhood wish of mine came true. Worst Part: I never want to be that stupid monkey ever again. Most of these side characters do not feel like they belong in a Spyro game, even though I know they were just trying to innovate the formula.

Fire Emblem: Three Houses by Intelligent Systems and Koei Tecmo

5⭐

Ohhh my god. I was nervous about another mainline Fire Emblem game, ever since Fates burned me pretty badly with how much I hated that game. Three Houses gave me nearly everything I wanted out of a Fire Emblem game, thankfully. No stupid explanation for offspring, no wasted dialogue between characters that didn’t need to have supports! I fell in love with so many of the NPCs and while the story isn’t perfect, it was a blast to go through and see the multiple sides to the conflict.

I went Golden Deer first and watched most of Amy’s playthrough of Blue Lions. I was in the middle of a Black Eagles run when I got a little burnt out and put it down, but I’m super excited to eventually see what Edelgard’s side of the story is, seeing as I don’t like her in the other routes but I’m shrimpterested in what her possible justification for anything is. Can’t wait for more story DLC whenever it happens!

Best Part: The support dialogues between characters. Also Claude von Riegan, destroyer of racism. Worst Part: the fact that there’s barely any time between Dimitri finally being nice to Byleth and the end of the Blue Lions route. he’s such a growly ass for so long.

Genital Jousting by Free Lives

2⭐

Obviously this game is a self-aware joke and isn’t meant to be much. The reason it got 2 stars instead of 1 is because I played it at a time that I really needed a laugh. I streamed it for my friend and for a while I was happily distracted by the story mode, even if it mostly involves hopelessly sticking my dick head into butts. The narration gave me Stanley Parable vibes, which was amusing, but yeah. Obviously this wasn’t gonna be some game of the year shit

Best Part: Playing with friends and yelling “GET OUT OF MY BUTT” at the top of your lungs. Worst Part: You can only enjoy sticking your dick in butts for so long before you don’t wanna do it anymore

I Love You, Colonel Sanders! by Psyop

1⭐

Yes, I am ranking this game as worse than a game about wiggly dicks. I didn’t have any hopes or expectations for this game, as it was always obviously meant to be a giant advertisement for KFC food, but that’s not even the part that bothered me. I didn’t care or mind the blatant product placement, the millions of mentions of all their herbs and spices and their gross bowls of corn, potato, and whatever.

I was so damn disappointed because it just wasn’t a good visual novel. I spent the whole time comparing it to Hatoful Boyfriend, which is an actually good parody of the entire genre. ILYCS felt more like “ha ha see how fucking weird dating sims are?? See how stupid and absurd the things that happen in them are?” rather than any kind of remotely interesting subversion on the genre. I don’t know why I expected that ILYCS would bother to do that, but I figured if a pigeon dating sim could surprise me, maybe this would too. Bleh.

Best Part: I did succeed in making Colonel Sanders love me, at least. Worst Part: Literally everything else.

The Outer Worlds by Obsidian Entertainment

4⭐

I’m giving this 4 stars, but this game gives me conflicted feelings. I love the companions in this game a lot, but some of them do have slightly disappointing arcs -- Ellie comes to mind for that one. The writing for the dialogue is great, but some of the main quests are just OK. The flaw system is really cool in theory, but I definitely didn’t think of them were worth the perk points, though they’re great if you’re serious about roleplaying.

I did have a lot of fun, but the ending felt very abrupt to me. I got to Phineas and we spoke for a minute, and then the credits rolled. And capitalism sure was bad! That was very heavy-handed. I enjoyed my time with it a lot but I am not itching to replay it. If there’s a sequel, though, I will definitely be on board with it.

Best Part: The dialogue options. They’re so fucking funny. Obsidian is the champion of snarky/witty dialogue. Worst Part: The ending made me the leader when I didn’t really feel prepared for that, I didn’t feel like that was the narrative I built for my character. The ending came at me so fast, it felt wrong.

Tyranny by Obsidian Entertainment

4⭐

If nothing else, Outer Worlds made me crave more of Obsidian’s writing flavor. This is the first CRPG I’ve ever committed to and beaten, and I do not regret that choice. I had tried to play it before but stopped very early on because it’s a lot of reading -- the entire opening has you do so much reading to make choices to kind of build your character’s backstory.

I loved playing a bad guy and accumulating power. My character was so loyal to Tunon and I loved the active development I got to have as someone who was so devoted to being a cog in the machine to someone who realized that they are special, they can be a conqueror, they can shape the world however they want. I know it’s possible to undermine all the bad guys and use your power for good, but eh, this is a game about being bad! It’s wonderful! And it was just long/short enough that it was great for someone just getting into CRPGs.

But. Like Outer Worlds, the ending felt rushed in Tyranny, though in an even more egregious way. Just as the story starts truly kicking off -- you have all this power, I had succeeded in making my superiors bow to me -- the game ends. It seems as though they ran out of time or money to have you actually face off against Kyros, the obvious next step in your plan for domination of whatever flavor. Maybe it was always the plan that taking down the Overlord was sequel material, but the way they built it up, it doesn’t feel right. And the game didn’t do well enough, or so I’ve read, so there will never be a face-off against her. I had such a good time with this game, but the ending left a real sour taste in my mouth.

Best Part: Really feeling like I had earned the power I got by endgame, by ‘playing’ the system. Defeating Tunon by manipulating him into bowing to me had me on edge and I was terrified until I walked out of his room. Worst Part: Knowing I will probably never get a resolution for the fight against Kyros. Really felt like all the cool stuff I did meant nothing.

Pokemon Shield by Game Freak

3⭐

Biiig mixed feelings about this one. I know Pokemon games are not known for their storytelling prowess, but even this one felt insultingly stupid to me. I know they can be good and interesting and posit cool concepts based on the worlds they’ve built. I didn’t like the gameplay of Black/White but I guess since that one tackled the ethics of Pokemon, Game Freak doesn’t want to try making any more challenging storylines.

The world also felt so empty. I never really noticed it in older Pokemon games, but SwSh has all these houses and no one has anything interesting to say. The NPCs aren’t worth talking to except when they give you items. Problems like that are common in Pokemon but I really hoped that bringing it to a home console meant that the game could be bigger and more full of content. The post game is almost nonexistent. For the first time ever, I don’t feel compelled to play long enough to complete my dex.

Best Part: The Wild Area, and doing raid battles with Amy. Playing alongside her and battling together was fun, and it was nice to cut down on the time it would’ve normally taken us to grind. Worst Part: Hop, Leon, and Bede. Worst characters in any Pokemon game, hands down.

Pillars of Eternity by Obsidian Entertainment

5⭐

I had initially tried this game out last year or so, but couldn’t get into it. Beating Tyranny finally made me feel able to tackle this one, and I’m so glad I gave it another chance. For most of the game I was meticulous and did almost all of the side quests, and I felt extremely rewarded by the narrative for doing so. Most of the companions were a joy to be around, and the lore of the world really drew me in.

Thanks to PoE, I think a whole new world and genre of games has opened up to me! But I’ll always feel like this is the first one I really loved.

Best Part: Eder!!! Ok also the themes of the game, especially in White March. Almost a month later I’m still thinking about the meaning to some parts of the game. Worst Part: That part in White March part 2 with the debate I couldn’t win. I understand why it was like that, I didn’t hate it or anything. Just the prerequisites to get the good outcome are bananas and there’s NO way I could possibly get the “good” ending of that dlc without following a guide WAY ahead of time. Oh well!

Katamari Damacy Reroll by BANDAI NAMCO Entertainment

2⭐

I didn’t play the first game when it came out. Instead I played the sequel, and that’s the game I have fond memories of, so unfortunately I spent this remake wishing they’d remade that one instead. The controls are more frustrating than I remember, and the level design is kind of meh. I do like that the town gets bigger with (almost) every level, until you’re rolling up adjacent towns and cities, but it wasn’t as fun as the paper crane level or the flower level or the zoo level of We Love Katamari :/ I absolutely pushed myself through this one as fast as possible, no replaying levels for the fun of it.

Best Part: The creativity and absurdity of Katamari as a whole. Rolling around a little Japanese town and finding very Japanese items is fun. Worst Part: The controls. Trying to climb up things is a nightmare and I ran out of time during some levels purely because it was so difficult to climb sometimes.

A Plague Tale: Innocence by Asobo Studio

3⭐

I didn’t know a whole lot about this game going in. I didn’t think the narrative was as incredible and resonating as reviews led me to believe, but it was alright. The first half of the game was very interesting to me -- the perspective of children running away from the Inquisition during the plague was exciting and I feared for these children as they never seemed to be able to get a moment of rest. I did like that Amicia and Hugo needed to build their bond from scratch, and it was full of missteps that I could understand children would make.

However as soon as things got supernatural wrt Hugo’s blood, then I felt like it lost a little bit of the charm for me. I liked the ‘found family in an unforgiving world’ aspects, but then suddenly blood powers happened and the vibe of the narrative changed. Oh well.

Best Part: The progression of power in the game. At first I felt very nervous when sneaking was the only option I had, as I am bad at stealth, but then gradually being able to kill people with my sling and solve puzzles with fire and light and being nearly unstoppable was really cool. I felt like I had earned Amicia’s strength. Worst Part: Hugo’s RAT POWERS and that final boss. just. what.

Untitled Goose Game by House House

2⭐

I wanted to close out the year with something fun and short, but I didn’t expect just how short this game would be. Although, ngl, if it were any longer I think I might’ve gotten rather tired of it anyway. The memes and whatnot that Goose Game gave the internet were worth more to me than the game itself. $20 for roughly an hour of gameplay just feels... bleh. I don’t even normally believe in that whole “$1 per hour of gameplay” stuff that many gamers like to throw around, but this felt like a rip-off. Still, it’s kinda fun to be a wretched little goose.

Best Part: Being a naughty little goose is cute and amusing, and bullying that Griffin McElroy looking boy into the phone booth is the highlight of my experience. Worst Part: It’s a hilarious concept but I don’t feel like I got to harass people half as much as I expected I would. The objectives to find a series of items and dump them somewhere else is just boring.

#tekst

0 notes