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blue-bird-kny · 3 years

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How You Spend Days Off

I stuck to only the three main peeps, but I’m looking forward to writing for more JJK characters. It was actually really nice to write for them, so I hope you enjoy~Amanda

P.S: Be safe out after dark!

Warning: N/A

( 2.1K+ words)

↳{shenanigans you and your S/O get up to on days off}

Yuji:

Days off with Yuji are unpredictable and always either involve something thrilling and very energy consuming or it can be some of the simplest things a person can do- no in between.

Yuji usually is the one who makes plans during your spare time (though he always gets your opinion, of course), he just really values time with you and wants to experience so much together while he can

It was common knowledge that this coming Friday, all the students would have the time off to rest as a reward for all their hard work with the recent influx of curse activity. Yuji wasted no time in planning the perfect day together, from the moment you woke up next to him to when you both fell asleep, he had something ready.

“Ah that was delicious Yuji, thank you” you cheered, arms stretched high above your head in an attempt to work away the sleepiness the food had made you feel. “No problem! Only the best for you, princess” Yuji’s smile reached past his shining eyes, thrilled you enjoyed the assortment of plates and bowls filled with your breakfast favorites he’d surprised you with. “Well then, my prince, to what honor do I owe your company today?” you asked leaning against your balled fist and bent elbow on the table, amusement and adoration laced on all your features. “For one day only, yours truly scored us tickets to…! Drum roll please!” Yuji posed dramatically, eyes cast down while crouched and pointing in a funny manner.

You proceeded to bang your fist against the table, laughing lightly, “We’re going to spend all day at Monster Con!” he pulled out two floppy pieces of paper from his back pocket as you gasped, “Oh I’m not finished yet, princess, we’ll also be wearing matching costumes I hand selected” You stood quickly, clapping at his theatrical performance as he bowed, repeating, “Thank you, thank you”. You made your way to infront of the boy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he enveloped your waist tightly, pressing you against him. “Not going dressed as your pesky alter ego, huh?” you joked staring up at the taller kid, earning you a slight pout, “No, he’s not invited” he grumbled. “Sorry, that joke was in poor taste” you apologized, shifting to run your thumb along his juted bottom lip to smooth out the lines.

“No worries, I know ya didn’t mean anything by it” your hand stayed cupping his cheek, both star-filled eyes trained on each other as you both wore the cheesiest grins. Just as you stood on your tip-toes to close the space between each other, a warm gust of breath blew against the palm holding Yuji still, “I was wondering why you hadn’t spoiled the moment” you sighed, lowering yourself to lean your forehead against Yuji’s chest instead. A small mouth carved into its host cheek frowned, now free to speak without your hand suffocating it, “I can handle the women’s teasing, however what have I done in my many lifetimes to have to suffer through this painful love-sick puppies act” Sukuna complained. “Many things actually” you responded, muffled by Yuji’s shirt that smelled of a citrusy-warm blend you couldn’t get enough of. “Why do you always kill the mood?” Yuji groaned up towards the ceiling, earning himself a scoff from the demon king. “Oh? You mean like that I wouldn’t let y-” “SHUT UP!” Yuji slammed his hand against his own face to silence the man, his cheeks inflamed.

Now clad in matching costumes, you as frankenstein's wife and Yuji as Frankenstein, from the hair to the clothes to the make-up, you both spent the day without any further hiccups; how Yuji kept Sukuna at bay, you didn’t know, but I didn’t really matter. The stares from passengers on the train to the convention center was obvious to everyone but you two, lost in your own little love-sick world of old-fashion horror movies, delicious food, and pure, unfiltered content.

Megumi:

Megumi is a simple guy who likes simple things; he’s overworked and more exhausted than he even realizes, however he doesn’t acknowledge that...ever. In fact, you could run a mile ‘too quickly’ by his standards and he will have you take a break and drink his bottle of water (though you had your own and he knew that).

On your rare days off together, Megumi would silently stick to you like glue; he wants to do something for you in the creative way Yuji does and definitely wants to spend the time with you, but he can never come up with a complete idea of how to ‘wow’ you.

Except you didn’t need to be wowed, in fact you really were burnt out, so when the day came when you had nothing to do but be together, you planned a whole day of nothing with a side of Netflix and take-out.

You knocked on the door to Megumi’s dorm that was just a few paces away from your own. It was almost noon and you still wore your pj’s from last night, cookie monster shorts and an old shirt of Megumi’s you took last week, having made no attempt to fix your hair. “Umi~!” you whined, banging on the door a little harder, the plastic bag from the convenience store rustling at your side. “Coming” Megumi opened the door in a similar state; pj’s still on and hair sticking in even weirder directions than normal.

“Mornin” you greeted with the faintest grin, “sorry to wake you” “ I was just getting up” he yawned while he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Sure I can tell by the bed head” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the boy. You waved the bag of goodies in front of his face, “Let me in, I’ll make it worth your while~” he chuckled, “I doubt it” despite his words he stood to the side, letting you past and closing the door behind you.

His dorm was dark and a little stuffy, clearly Megumi hadn’t had time to do the in depth cleaning the little neat-freak was so fond of. The continents of the bag clacked together and scattered around as you tossed it onto the small table in the corner, making your way over to his comfortable futon that smelled of his signature eucalyptus soaps. You flopped about for a moment, stretching, snuggling into the sheets still warm from Megumi, who was watching the small scene from the door, “C’mon Umi’ I wanna get through at least two episodes of SVU before we inevitably fall asleep wrapped in each others arms” you called dreamily with lidded eyes, already tired again as you buried beneath his sheets and pillows.

Megumi could feel his chest ache and stomach flutter at the image of the one who he cared for so much that it physically hurt laying there in his bed with soft, kind eyes just for him- it was almost too much. “Umi, I will eat all the sour snakes if you don’t come over here, your sheets are getting cold” Megumi was cut off by his own thoughts of admiration by your voice. He chuckled at the cute way your face cringed a bit at the sour-sweet taste of the candy before sliding into bed too, your head laying on his chest as he held you close. A small, genuine grin spread across his lips as the sound of Netflix starting rang from the TV, holding you even tighter, ‘this is perfect’

Nobara

Be ready to put on your best dressed because you and your girlfriend are hitting the town! Of course Nobara would find her way into the city whenever she could, foreign to the endless wonders the busy streets had to offer and luckily for her, you happened to be far more native with the many sights to see.

She’d let you sleep in, holding you tender as she traced her nails across your skin to form intricate patterns until you woke. You both would totally be the couple that wears matching outfits, the same colors and patterns tailored to your personal styles- of course this would also lead to thousands of pictures for Nobara’s instagram.

You two would laughed, eat delicious foods, and would spend way more than either of you cared to admit nor did you want to because the price of absurd, unfiltered laughter and the feel of just a good time, was one both of you could pay a thousand times (and a new pair of shoes too)

The sun hung lower in the sky than it did when you started this little adventure before noon, having been sold on the idea by Nobara that she “only needed a few things” this morning. Now, exhausted perched on a steel chair outside some cafe you’d never heard of with your sore feet elevated on the other empty one you waited for your girlfriend who was inside somewhere.

“Jeez even my fingers are cramped” you groaned flexing your numb digits; shopping was a grueling vice because no matter how much you’ve already bought, more cute sweaters, tops, and matching accessories called to you by name and the art of saying ‘no’ wasn’t exactly in Ms.Kugisaki’s vocabulary. “Here ya’ go babe” Nobara emerged from the shop with two cups, handing one to you before sipping gingerly from her own. You brought the plastic straw to your lips, sighing in relief as the contents quelled a thirst you didn’t even know had been building up. “I don’t think we did too much damage” your face fell and eyes bulged, flailing your arms out around at the brightly colored parcels that littered the table and surrounding floor, “Nobara there are at least fifteen bags here”

She laughed, her hand falling on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, “Still no that bad”. She scooched her chair closer to yours, her thumb rubbing nonsense circles into the denim of your jeans, “What next?” she asked leaning into her seat, her brown irises watching yours fondly, “Food? We haven’t eaten since a lot earlier and I could turn into a wolf any second and eat you” you teased, though food sounded better and better the more you thought about it. “Eat me? You promise, baby?” Nobara’s smirk earned herself a not-so-graceful, but light kick from you.

“An impromptu picnic sounds great” Nobara decided, tapping against you in finality. It became a game: You both had 30 minutes to run around the delicious food district to pick out each other's favorites, as many as you liked (which would be more food than two can eat), then you’d reconvene at the same cafe. Nobara offered to pick up a blanket at the convenience store because she ‘knew you so well she wouldn’t need the whole half hour.’ The game was on and time was ticking as you both rushed in opposite directions with several bags and a hunger to please the other.

You scurred around each vendor, selecting different meat dishes and veggies, cakes and watermelon, and even splurged on some fancy sushi from the place she'd wanted to try. Your arms quivered under the weight of the many shopping bags and take-out boxes, but you were determined to get back first. “Just around the corner- Are you kidding me?!” you yelled. In the exact steel seat she sat in earlier, was Nobara with an array of bags around her, boxes and the blanket stacked neatly on the table with dark sunglasses adorning her face and her legs crossed cockily as she spoke smoothly, “Beat ya”

Both of you grossly overestimated the amount of food you could eat in one sitting as practically unopened boxes lay stacked on top one another on the blankets while watermelon rinds and used plates were thrown into a garbage bag. The sun was low, almost at the horizon, painting the sky in pastel oranges and pinks with hints of purple and blue; the spring chill had blown a little heavier now that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to stop the shivers. Nobara laid against the trunk of a tree with you between her legs, holding you as her manicured fingers idly massaged your scalp quietly- you would have fallen asleep at the small gesture had you not been actively keeping your eyes open. “The boys will be grateful for the food, I’d hate wasting it” she yawned to which you only hummed.

“Hey” you turned your head up slightly, only enough to meet her gaze, “today was really fun” she smiled, slithering across your arm to grab your cheeks gently in her fingers, forcing your lips to pucker, “yeah it was.” Your wobbly smile made Nobara feel things, too many things at once, and a lump began to form in her throat, “I love you” you mumbled, Nobara’s breath caught for only a moment, whispering a thick “me too.”

Masterlist

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #megumi x reader #nobara x y/n #nobara x reader #yuji x y/n #yuji x reader #megumi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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scrawnytreedemon · 3 years

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Ooh, how about Hojo for the ask meme?

OHOOOO, I HAVE A L O T TO SAY, BABY-- Especially after seeing that final showdown, oh boy.

(hfhdkjfhjkj sorry for this being late!! had many thinsg to do <33)

For context, I know jack-shit about Dirge of Cerbeus, and I’d rather it stay that way. Vee has scarred me enough with her recollections from the wiki alone, and unless we finally do that shit-movie night we’ve been meaning to for awhile, I’m not touching it with a ten foot pole.

First impression: Horrible rat man; nasty. Your run of the mill Mad Scientist except somehow Even Worse. Perhaps a little generic at times. Pervy fuck. Probably has a bunch of obscenely lewd magazines in his study. Fuck him for fucking over absolutely everyone that’s gotten within ten metres of him. This guy fucks, and that’s how we got Sephiroth. -1/10, Worst Scientist, Husband and Father of the Year.

Impression now: I... I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I like him now, unironically. You win, Hojo Fuckers. Seeing that scene at the control panel, I think that man’s genuinely depressed-- Like, ‘I’ve devoted my entire life to my work to numb the pain but now I’ve realised it’s all for nothing and it’s fucking useless and I’m fucking useless and there’s nothing for me to do other than sacrifice myself for my son, who fucking hates me.‘ Like... Jesus Christ, I did not expect him to be so self-aware. He’s still a downright horrendous person and many of the things he’s done, if I believed in such a mindset, are downright irredeemable. Basically, I actually like his character now-- full-on -- even if he’s still a right bell-end.

Favorite moment: The rooftop scene. Jesus Christ, man, that changed my whole view on him. The way he’s actually becoming aware of how wrong he was, and how it weighs on his mind-- How, almost absently, as if he’s saying it more to himself, he tells Cloud he should become a scientist. It’s a small thing... But it speaks to a level of respect I don’t think Hojo has had for anyone in a very long time. He’s been brought to his limit, willing to give anything and everything so that the one thing he’s done right, his son who he gave up to further his now-dead career, succeeds in world-annihilation. What really gets me is that moment in the fight, where you’ve ended the first phase, when he says, apathetically, how he hopes the Mako juice is going-- And then he turns into a monster. This horrendous, twisted thing that’s barely held together by skin and sinew-- Probably one of the most downright-horrifying things in this entire game --And it’s just... like... wow... he broke.

Idea for a story: A fic where him and Sephiroth actually try and make amends. I’ve seen this guy killed off-screen so many times, and everytime, I am deeply disappointed. I get it. Hojo’s probably the worst character in the game. He has no morals and no boundaries, and he’s irritating as fuck-- I get it --But he’s also the reason all of this shit has happened, and is such a vital character in the forming of the story, in Sephiroth’s specifically, that I want him to be done justice. I want to see one of them reach out to the other, and slowly, bit, by bit, by agonising bit piece together something vaguely resembling a foundation for their relationship. I want to see them reminisce over the few good times they had together, and address deeply the many, many bad ones. It’ll be painful, and there will be many bumps in the road where they’ll feel like there isn’t even a point to this shit, and yet push on despite that. Because despite everything, they are family-- And not because they are obligated to, but because they’re choosing to. I want to see that. I really do. I’ll probably write it myself.

Unpopular opinion: I think my newfound appreciation of him in general, lmao. I won’t get into the paternity debate, as I’ve addressed that in Vincent’s post and another one. Perhaps the fact that I think it’s stupid that the scientists in FFVII get referred to by their first names-- Like, who does this shit??? Who out here thinks Hojo sounds like a first name??? It’s just... Really unprofessional and I don’t think Hojo is comfortable enough with anyone to just have them call him by his first name. Also Dr. Faremis Gast sounds better than Dr. Gast Faremis. I know it’s a pun in Japanese but I don’t give a shit. Fight me.

Favorite relationship: Him and Sephiroth, because there’s just, alot of shit. I don’t think he was ever truly close enough to Lucrecia for me to get invested-- It’s clear the relationship, though while initially stable and they probably got along well, was one mostly of work --And I don’t think there’s anyone else close enough to Hojo’s character to serve as another option, either. Maybe Vincent, but again, that was through Lucrecia. Seph and Hojo have this dynamic where strained doesn’t even begin to describe it. Hojo thinks Seph doesn’t know and Seph thinks Hojo doesn’t know that he knows-- And it’s painfully clear that had it not been for Hojo, Sephiroth wouldn’t have been so unstable. There was alot of abuse, physical and psychological, that got framed as ‘work,’ and it’s undoubtebly fucked with Seph’s very concept of ownership, and who owns another. It’s clear that on some level, Hojo feels shame for what he’s done-- Not guilt, shame --And is unwilling to let the boy(and perhaps even himself) from knowing his true parentage. Part of it’s definitely spite for Lucrecia, but there’s more. I could go one for hours, honest to god, so like, feel free to tack on your own ideas, fellow trash conoisseurs.

Favorite headcanon: Him being Wutaian. Not sure if it’s entirely headcanon, but like, it really is ironic. I personally think his family moved to Midgar while he was still young-- Perhaps due to a faction split -- so he grew up on the Eastern Continent, so he was stuck in this weird middle space alot of immigrant or descended from immigrants children where on one hand, you’ve got your family’s legacy, and you probably, if not fluently, speak their native tongue and carry out their traditions, and on the other hand you’ve grown up with people who’ve been here for generations and inevitably get moulded by their ways and their customs, perhaps to the point you’re more culturally theirs than your native land’s. If we’re going with the faction split, I think Hojo leans hard into the latter, out of a deep-seated indignance. Maybe his family were fairly influential, before they had to move to what was, no doubt, a less than idyllic neighbourhood. I think part of what made him want to become a scientist was that need to regain that honour, that dignity-- It’s very self-centred, and clearly didn’t work out.

Thank you Vee as always-- You incredible bastard --For both asking and also rambling with me about this grease-weasel for like, a good long time.

Knowing my luck I just might’ve gotten another hyperfixation. A terrible one. Fuck.

And to anyone who’s read this far, thank you! As always, feel free to throw in your own thoughts, whether they be replies or reblogs. I’m curious to know what the general vibe is about him(other than Haha Stinky Goblin Rat), as I don’t think he’s talked about all that much? Maybe I’m looking in the wrong places.

Anyhow Hojo Fuckers, I owe you a beer. Not a good one, probably tastes of piss, but knowing you lot, that’s probably just fine, lmaooooooo. Keep up the ungodly work <3

#ffvii #professor hojo #ask meme #scrawny speaks #I Have Posted Cringe #headcanons

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dweetwise · 3 years

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yes hello, i’m back on my riconti bullshit again, this time with a cute prompt fill from @dailyau by @hcpelesshcney about fire alarms and sharing a blanket ❤️

i’m also trying something new with splitting a fic into chapters!

ship: felix x ace warnings: briefly mentioned internalized homophobia word count: 3700

[next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 1)

It's surprising just how scattered the human brain becomes during a crisis.

When Felix was woken from his restless sleep in the hotel bed by a blaring fire alarm, he'd bolted out of the bed and scrambled out into the hallway without second thought. He'd probably even left the door to his room wide open, with his wallet, passport, phone and laptop all neatly arranged on the desk for anyone to walk by and steal.

And now he's standing in the parking lot in the chilly late summer night, dressed in nothing but his pajama pants and a t-shirt. His socks were drenched as soon as he stepped outside, running straight into a puddle while hurrying to get away from the potential fire.

At least he's not alone in the stressful predicament. There's plenty of other people around, looking just as lost and dazed as him, having been forced to evacuate the hotel in the middle of the night. Most have been sensible enough to bring their jackets and shoes, a couple of kids even huddling beneath a hotel duvet.

And since there's no sign of a fire or even any smoke, Felix feels like an idiot for not having the foresight to bring something to warm him up.

The firefighters have just arrived at the scene and are preparing to search the building for the source of the alarm. Felix tries not to shiver even more as he relents to the fact that they're still going to be stuck out there for quite some time.

The crowd in the parking lot is loud, families and partners gossiping amongst themselves, some people even arguing with the staff members about ruining their vacation. Felix wishes they'd just shut up, more than happy to forget this ever happened if he'd just get to curl back under the warm covers of his bed instead of freezing out here.

This trip just kept getting worse. Not only had he been forced to come on only a day's notice, taking over Lauren's business trip across the Atlantic when she'd unexpectedly caught a cold. He’d also had to take a shitty flight route with two extra stops, and his last flight had been no less than six hours late.

When he’d finally arrived at the hotel and started trying to sleep off the massive jet lag after barely getting any sleep on the plane, he'd been rudely awakened by an emergency. And now, to add insult to injury, he’s gone from the threat of burning to death to freezing to death.

“Hey,” a voice says from right beside him, making Felix jolt in surprise over being distracted from his internal pity party.

He sees a man standing next to him, wrapped in a hotel-issued blanket, looking up at him with curious brown eyes and a pleasant smile.

Felix racks his brain for if he knows this man or not, but draws up a blank, the tiredness and cold making his thoughts feel sluggish. The man is shorter than Felix and looks a little older, if the laugh lines and grey hair are anything to go by.

“You look cold,” the man says. “Wanna share my blanket?”

As the man lifts the fabric just the slightest bit in invitation, mortification hits Felix. Not only is his shivering noticeable enough to warrant someone taking pity on him, he's being offered physical contact from a stranger.

Isn't it a weird thing to offer, especially to another man? Does he somehow know that Felix is gay? Is he making fun of him? Or is it just an American thing? Wouldn't it be weirder for Felix not to accept, since the man has noticed how much he’s freezing?

“Alright,” the man says when Felix isn't replying, lowering the bedding in surrender. “My bad, I just thought—"”

“Yes,” Felix says, interrupting him.

“Uh…” the man says, understandably confused by Felix's social awkwardness.

“Yes, I want to sh-share,” Felix says, another full-body shiver wracking his body.

“Oh! Sure,” the man grins happily, and then he's suddenly very close, shoulder bumping against Felix's chest, and a corner of the blanket is thrown haphazardously over Felix's shoulder.

“T-thank you,” Felix stammers, both from the nerves and the cold, grabbing the soft cotton fabric and pulling it tighter against himself.

And causing the stranger to stumble even closer from the momentum.

“Sure, don't mention it,” the man grins, like he's not now pressed against a stranger's side from shoulder to hip.

Embarrassed as Felix feels, both the blanket and the person attached to it are warm. Felix has to stop himself from sighing blissfully as the other's body heat starts to warm him up, slowly working away at the chill in his bones.

“Well, since we're gonna be stuck here for a while,” the man muses. “My name's Ace.”

“F-F-Felix,” Felix manages through clattering teeth.

“I'd shake your hand, but I think we're past that stage already,” Ace jokes, and then offers a pleased grin as Felix huffs out a surprised laugh through his nose. “In any case, it’s nice to meet you, Felix,” the man looks up at him and smiles, and Felix's poor, gay heart skips a beat.

Yeah, this is definitely preferable to freezing to death.

“I wonder how long they'll take to find the cause this time,” Ace starts conversationally, while pulling out his phone from the nest of blankets. He sets to what looks like writing a text to someone, not seeming the least bit bothered by their predicament.

“You don't seem very nervous,” Felix observes.

“Not my first rodeo,” Ace looks up and grins. “Probably someone just smoked inside and tripped the alarm. Happens a lot in hotels.”

“D-d-do you travel? A lot?” Felix asks, partly do distract himself from the cold while he gets his body heat up, partly to divert Ace’s attention from his phone.

“You could say that,” Ace says. “What about you? Here on business?”

“Yes,” Felix says, with no small amount of annoyance over being reminded he still has work tomorrow. “Thankfully my meeting isn't until the afternoon.”

“Glad you can get your beauty sleep,” Ace says.

“And hopefully get rid of the jet lag,” Felix comments with a tired sigh.

Ace hums in acknowledgement before going back to his phone message. Felix tries not to take it personally; he knows he's not that interesting to talk to.

Ace is so warm, and it's a little awkward being pressed this close, but embarrassingly enough, Felix finds himself drifting even closer. Ace smells like whiskey and cheap cologne, but somehow, it's oddly comforting. He'd probably been drinking last night—well, technically tonight. Thankfully, he doesn't seem drunk, as Felix doubts he would have had the patience to deal with alcohol-induced rambling.

“Whiskey man, I see,” Felix comments. When Ace looks up from his phone in surprise, Felix realize how weird it is for him to admit to smelling the man.

“I reek that bad, huh?” Ace grins, taking the comment in stride.

“I didn't mean—” Felix flounders to explain.

Damnit, he should just give up on trying to make conversation.

“Wow, lighten up,” Ace says and elbows him playfully under the blanket, adding even more physical contact to their already borderline inappropriate situation.

Felix tries to ignore the fluttering in his gut when he feels Ace's hairy forearm brush against his own. This is more physical contact than he's gotten from another man… probably ever.

“Yeah, I had a few drinks earlier. I'm more of a wine man, but…” Ace seems to ponder. “Sometimes, you've got to try new things.”

Like huddling under a blanket with an attractive stranger, Felix considers.

Suddenly, he almost regrets the blanket blocking his view from seeing more of the man. His body feels firm against Felix's, and his shoulders look defined, though that could just be an illusion from the thick fabric covering them.

“What’s your poison?” Ace asks, following Felix's awkward silence.

“I don't drink much,” Felix lies, like he hasn’t been going through his father’s old liquor collection at an alarming rate for the past year or so. “Uhm… whiskey, I guess. And bourbon.”

He could really, really go for either one right now. Not only would the drinks warm him up, they'd also make him act like an actual human being instead of the stiff robot impression he's currently doing.

“Huh,” Ace comments.

“What?” Felix asks, trying not to get defensive.

“Nothing! I would have pegged you as a beer guy, is all,” Ace muses. “Maybe that's just the accent, though.”

“Sorry,” Felix apologizes. Now hyperaware of his bad pronunciation and extremely German accent, he tries to bury his face deeper into the blanket in embarrassment.

“Naw, hey, come on,” Ace turns toward him as much as the cramped space allows him to. “Your English is amazing! The accent only adds charm.”

Felix looks at Ace's encouraging smile and tries not to think too much about their thighs now pressing together. Ace is clearly waiting for him to say something, but all Felix can focus on is his warm body and striking features.

“Where are you from?” Felix asks instead, trying to place the hint of an accent he thinks he hears.

“Huh. Good catch,” Ace smiles, seeming surprised. “Guess!”

Felix flushes and looks at Ace's eagerly grinning face. It's nighttime, but Ace's skin seems darker than his own, and his features look Mediterranean, reminding Felix of countless business trips to Spain. But the accent…

“Italy?” Felix suggests, and Ace's smile somehow widens even further.

“Close!” Ace says. “Argentina.”

“Ehm…” Felix furrows his brow in confusion, thinking that surely, being a whole continent and world sea off doesn't exactly count as "close".

“My family hails from Italy, and it's my native language,” Ace explains. “So it was a really good guess!”

“Thank you…?” Felix says awkwardly.

“I'd ask what you were doing when the alarm went off, but…” Ace pauses, glancing up at his disheveled hair. “From your outfit choice and the bedhead, I'd put 50 bucks on 'sleeping'."

“You'd be correct,” Felix murmurs, self-consciously poking his hand out from under the blanket to run through his tousled hair. “I'm not very interesting.”

“I think I'll be the judge of that," Ace grins. “If, uh… you don't mind chatting to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Felix says, hoping he doesn't sound too eager, happy Ace deems him interesting enough to talk to instead of whoever he was texting earlier.

They spend some twenty minutes chatting about mostly insignificant things. But as much as Felix usually hates small talk, he now welcomes it, because Ace is asking him interesting questions instead of just talking about the weather. He appears to genuinely care about Felix's story, and Felix might end up sharing a little too much, from the work stress and business trip he didn't even want to come to, all the way to his relationship that ended a few weeks ago.

Ace seems friendly and pleasant, taking Felix's awkward pauses and nervousness in stride, filling in the silences with stories of his own. Felix hears a lot about the different places he's traveled to, along with some hotel horror stories that make him feel much better about the current fire alarm situation. He manages a few laughs, some merely polite, but some genuinely amused at Ace's over-the-top storytelling.

Eventually, Ace's phone beeps again and he excuses himself and engrosses himself momentarily in the screen, and this time, Felix welcomes the brief break in socializing.

He realizes just how nice this is. It feels like a stroke of luck that only a few short weeks after ending his relationship with his ex-girlfriend and coming out in the process, he'd meet a handsome stranger this eager to cuddle up to him.

Not cuddle up—share a blanket, Felix mentally berates himself.

He glances at Ace out of the corner of his eye, seeing his side profile illuminated by the dim glow from the phone screen. Felix never really considered what his type would be, apart from the all-encompassing "men" that he'd only recently come to accept about himself. But taking in Ace's defined features and the smile that seems to be a permanent part of his face, he's starting to get an idea.

Quickly looking away before Ace catches him staring, Felix suddenly feels almost too warm. He shouldn't get ahead of himself; even though It feels like Ace is being a little too friendly, he hasn't actually made a move, seeming happy just with chatting to kill time.

Felix briefly toys with the idea of placing his hand on Ace's hip in a loose embrace, just to test the waters. He'd never be that brave, but if he was, he'd at least know for sure, even if it would probably end in Ace being disgusted and kicking him out of the blanket cocoon.

But… maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d smile even wider and return the gesture, just as eager as Felix to get even closer. Felix would wrap his arms around him, and they'd stand there cuddling and sharing even more body heat, maybe even kissing—

Shit. This is exactly what his therapist said he shouldn't do, the term "excessive daydreaming" flashing in his mind.

“Sorry,” Ace is saying, turning back to face him and pocketing the phone, completely oblivious to Felix's internal dilemma. “Where were we?”

“I, uh,” Felix stammers.

Was just thinking about kissing you.

“Did I tell you about the time a bunch of college kids decided to set off fireworks in the hotel room next to mine?” Ace offers, saving Felix from floundering for a topic.

“What—why would they…?” Felix asks.

“Well, I'd just gotten back from this extravagant New Years party—” Ace excitedly starts telling yet another story, and Felix keenly starts listening in.

Ace seems to be completely in his element, getting lost in talking about just how fancy the party was, followed by a dramatic retelling of some very incredulously sounding explosions that turned out to be fireworks. Felix keeps listening raptly, not entirely sure about the accuracy of the story, but enjoying seeing the other so happy. The blanket occasionally shifts as Ace tries to gesture with his hands to add to the narration, only to remember that he can't, looking sheepish every time.

Felix has never met someone with such effortless charisma. Ace's voice is rich and pleasant, and Felix briefly zones out while he imagines it talking him to sleep.

It's stupid, and he knows it. He's only known the man for half an hour, and even "knowing" him is pushing it. Felix is only in the country for two more days, and he’s very aware that pursuing anything would be pointless.

But he also knows that given the chance, he wouldn't say no to seeing Ace again. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, the narrowly averted emergency, or simply being far away from home and realizing nobody would ever find out. Either way, he’s feeling more adventurous than usual, the adrenaline in his veins and butterflies in his gut keeping his tired body on high alert.

Too bad he's deathly afraid of rejection and would never dare to ask if the other is interested.

Suddenly, there's the screech of a PA system, and Ace stops mid-sentence, both of them turning to look at a firefighter speaking into a megaphone.

“The fire has been extinguished and the building is now safe. Please return to your rooms,” the fireman announces.

The horde of people immediately start flocking towards the hotel entrance at the same time, creating an annoyed crowd of freezing, grumpy people and managing to clog the entryway immediately.

“I wonder what the cause was,” Felix ponders out loud, not making an effort to move toward the commotion and get stuck between the shoving, complaining people.

“Who cares? We get to not freeze our asses off anymore!” Ace exclaims gleefully.

And Felix realizes they no longer have a reason to stay huddled up together. Reluctantly slipping away from under the blanket, he feels a disappointed pang in his chest over how happy Ace sounds to get rid of him.

“Thank you for lending your blanket,” Felix says, handing his side of the fabric back over to Ace and trying not to shiver as the cold of the night hits his warm skin.

“My pleasure! Thanks for keeping me warm!” Ace quips cheerfully, wrapping the item tighter around himself.

“Ehm… you as well,” Felix says, looking away so Ace doesn't see his face heating up.

“Come on, let's get you inside!” Ace prompts, and then he leans into Felix and shoves him lightly with a blanket-clad shoulder.

It's clearly in an intent to encourage Felix to move, but it still makes newfound hope blossom in his chest. They’re no longer forced to tolerate each other if they don't want to freeze, but Ace still seems far from repulsed by him.

“Right,” Felix says, starting the short trek to the hotel entrance that has thankfully cleared up from people.

“So…” Ace drawls, easily falling into step next to him. “Can I have your number?”

Felix glances at him and blinks in confusion. Is… is Ace asking him out? Or just being polite? Is he going to ask to be added on Facebook too, like all the weird colleagues Felix has met on business trips once and then never heard from again?

“For...?” Felix manages to ask when they arrive at the entrance, reaching for the door and holding it open for the man.

“Just wondering if you wanted to grab some drinks while you're still in town,” Ace says when he slips past Felix into the building. “I wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” Ace adds, looking him up and down with a smile that is definitely not just friendly.

Heat rises up Felix's neck from more than just the warm air of the hotel lobby. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one sensing the tension between them.

“Maybe,” Felix says, trying and probably failing to not seem way too enthusiastic.

“Oh?” Ace says, quirking an eyebrow. And then he's shrugging off the blanket, revealing a rolled-up, button-up shirt and—

Fuck. Broad shoulders and a lean build, that sure as hell doesn't make Felix's predicament any easier.

Felix definitely stares longer than appropriate while they continue walking to the elevator, Ace thankfully too busy with bunching up the blanket to notice his ogling.

“What…" Felix starts, making Ace look at him, cocking his head. "Uhm. What's with the sudden interest?”

“I mean,” Ace says, shooting him pointed look. “I was interested ever since I saw you there, shivering in your ridiculously tight T-shirt,” he winks.

Felix realizes that the shirt probably leaves a lot less to the imagination than the suits and blazers he always wears. He lifts a hand to his arm in a self-conscious manner, making an attempt to cover himself.

“But I didn't wanna freak you out,” Ace adds, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “Would have been pretty awkward if you said no, considering you were kinda stuck with me for a bit.”

That's… oddly sweet, and very much appreciated. Felix would probably have imploded on himself from embarrassment if Ace would have been this forward from the start.

“Thank you,” Felix says.

“No worries,” Ace grins, pushing the button to order the elevator. “So? Are you freaked out?”

Felix considers the question for a moment, only arriving at variations of "no", "I'm leaving in two days" and "help you're really hot but I've never been with a guy and don't know what to do".

“I think the word is…” Felix pauses in thought, trying to ignore his brain screaming insecurities at him. “'Intrigued'.”

Proud of managing to be smooth for once in his life, the ding of the elevator arriving is almost lost on Felix, because he's so focused on Ace's now downright lecherous grin.

But he obediently steps into the elevator, not wanting to keep the few hotel customers still lingering behind them.

“What's you floor, gorgeous?” Ace asks with a flirtatious smile, after pressing the number four.

Wow. How the hell did Felix ever manage to think he was just being friendly?

“Three,” Felix says.

“Looks like you're under me,” Ace flirts while pushing the button for him, making Felix choke on his own spit from the suggestive comment, embarrassed yet curious.

And then Ace clears his throat and averts his eyes as a woman and her daughter walk into the elevator with them.

They stand awkwardly next to each other as the elevator doors slide close. Felix’s thoughts are a mess of excitement, nervousness and embarrassment, not sure what to do in this situation.

He discreetly glances at Ace—

And the other catches him looking.

Felix's heart skips a beat as Ace's lips spread into a lazy grin, eyes shimmering with unspoken promise.

He wonders what it would be like to wipe that grin off the smug man's face. Felix imagines pushing Ace up against the elevator wall, picturing how the other’s eyes would go wide, maybe he'd even gasp, taken off guard at Felix's sudden boldness. Maybe he wouldn't have time to say anything, because Felix would capture his lips in a passionate kiss, and Ace would groan and drop the blanket to tangle his hands in Felix's hair—

DING!

Felix is rudely snapped out of his daydream by the elevator arriving on his floor. He realizes he's been spacing out while staring at Ace's face, and the smirk is gone from the man's lips, but his eyes are somehow even more intense.

“Good night,” Felix offers stiffly, forcing himself to break the eye contact before he gets lost in his own head again.

He takes a step out of the elevator, mentally scolding himself when he notices his racing heart and heavy breathing, getting himself worked up over a dumb fantasy.

Tomorrow, he promises himself when the elevator doors start sliding shut behind him. Tomorrow, he’d go out with Ace and could maybe, hopefully psyche himself up enough to make a move. He'd just text the man in the morning—

Except they never exchanged numbers.

Shit!

#riconti #felix richter #ace visconti #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight #prompt #felix x ace

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eloarei · 3 years

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Okay, I’m going to babble about Greedfall under a cut. I just have to. tl;dr, you should have been able to romance Petrus and Constantin, no I am not taking critique. Under the cut: 1500 words of basic Greedfall explanation, and then me lamenting ships that didn’t happen; includes spoilers (noted).

So. Greedfall. Basically, I had never heard of this game until it was free on Playstation Plus a few months ago, and I was like “yeah okay sure, I’m not doing anything else”, so I played it. I had no idea what to expect. I don’t recall watching the trailer. From the icon, I expected maybe pirates? As it turned out, no pirates ...exactly? But kinda. They’re mostly just colonists with pistols and big hats. Lots of big hats. There are a faction of characters that live on ships, but they’re not pirates. I don’t think they’d appreciate being referred to as such. Anyway, it’s a rather Dragon Age-like game. I don’t mind saying so, since everyone else has. It has its similarities and differences, but it definitely feels familiar in that way. It’s definitely not a copy, just... inspired, I guess. You play as Lord or Lady de Sardet, (that’s a silent t, btw), who’s tasked with representing her people on the ‘new continent’ of Tir Fradi-- mostly to the other countries that settled there in the past few years, but also to the natives, who’ve lived there for ever and ever and actually respect the land, unlike you dumb colonizers. The factions are real pains in the ass, but in a way that’s a litttttle bit charming. Theleme is full of propagandizing Catholics who aren’t above a little witch hunt now and again. The Bridge Alliance are all science-obsessed atheists who think progress is more important than basic morals. The natives are VERY in touch with nature, and have cool Russian accents, skull-like face paint, and sometimes branches growing out of their heads. (The natives have the most diverse opinions, so they’re the least annoying. In fact, they’re rather likeable, except that sometimes they hate you, and don’t bother with pretending they don’t for diplomacy’s sake.) There’s also the Nauts (the pirates), the Coin Guard (mercenaries, but they kind of work for your country?), and the Congregation of Merchants, aka your country, which are basically neutral ground capitalists that everyone sort of doesn’t hate. (Theleme and Bridge Alliance despise each other, roughly a little more than they hate the natives.) You’ve got one companion from every faction: Siora from the natives, Kurt from the Coin Guard, Vasco from the Nauts, Petrus from Theleme, and Aphra from Bridge Alliance. They’re all representatives of their people, but also (as you might guess) non-extremists. Because otherwise you’d want to murder them. Siora isn’t desperate to kick out the foreigners, she just wants her people to be safe and respected. Kurt and Vasco are basically just following you because it’s Kurt’s job and Vasco’s boss told him to. Petrus is a conniving old man, but he doesn’t shove God down your throat too much and seems to respect the natives, sort of. And Aphra has enough morals to agree that killing for science ain’t cool, and maybe the natives aren’t just savages. All in all, they’re all pretty reasonable. Compared to Dragon Age, none of your companions (or other NPCs) have a ton of personality, but somehow they still manage to have a good bit, and I ended up really liking them. SO LETS TALK ABOUT SHIPPING You can romance Kurt if you’re playing a woman, Aphra if you’re playing a man, and Vasco and Siora in either case. But, oh my god?, getting the romance to happen is practically impossible. Save first. I romanced both Kurt and Siora (in different saves; can’t do ‘em both in one), using a guide, but by the time I had thought about romancing, I’d already said one wrong thing to Vasco and screwed my chances hahaha. There’s basically 3 specific conversations you have to have with them, and each time you have to pick the right thing to say, out of three choices. If you offend them at all, there’s no going back. Wow. They’re not very intuitive, either. ANYWAY. The romances aren’t all that interesting, but they add a bit to their stories, so it’s cool. I think my ship preferences with these four characters are Kurt, Siora, Vasco, and Aphra, in that order. But you KNOW WHAT? I wanna romance Petrus. Yes, the old man. The bishop. And yeah, I know why you can’t. (It’s spoiler time!) You can’t romance him basically for the exact reason you should be able to romance him: he was in love with your mom. Your birth mom, who was a native, which you never knew about. He pined for her after she was captured and taken from her land, and when she was in pain and wanted to die, he didn’t help, and now he’s like “woe is me, I’m flooded with guilt”. Which is partly why he’s following you/ de Sardet around. So you can’t romance him because he sees you as his kid... kinda?... ish?... I guess? Sure. Ok. I mean, that’s cute. I like it. He makes a pretty bad dad, to be honest, because he’s more like that one slightly morally corrupt uncle who lets you drink hard alcohol when you’re a teenager but only under his supervision. But he cares, and that’s the important thing. I don’t dislike dad-Petrus at all. But you should still be able to romance him because of the good old classic “you’re so much like your mother”. Problematic? MAYBE. =D But a real missed opportunity. Also he’s my favorite companion. He’s a real manipulator. Gets excited about blackmailing politicians. Sounds like he’s smoked a pack a day. I just like the guy a lot. (And you know how much fanart he has? Like none. Le sigh.) (Also very few ship fics with him; I’m not surprised, but of course I must remedy this. I’m 4k in already and it’s a lot of de Sardet thinking, and her friends poking at her.) BUT ALSO, to move on from Petrus. There’s a character I neglected to mention at all, because he’s not a playable companion (except for a tiny while in the beginning, iirc). He’s perhaps my real favorite character... or maybe tied with Petrus. Yes, it’s Constantin, de Sardet’s “dear cousin”. Oh my lord, Constantin. What a cutie??? He’s basically the prince. He’s been appointed as the governor of their city on the new island, and he’s precious. Genuinely a puppy. And I think you should be able to romance him. (It’s less crazy than you might think!) MORE SPOILERS TIME So, as it turns out (well, I already sort of spoiled it up there), because de Sardet is actually a native, s/he and Constantin are not actually cousins. They love each other immensely. The game makes no mistake about this. They’re absolutely besties. I think Constantin calls you his lucky star. He’s always so flattering, and seeing de Sardet just makes his day. And since it turns out you’re not really cousins, you should be able to romance him. And do you know why? I mean, because they love each other, clearly. But also, that ending. Good lord that ending. I mean, if you didn’t think that they loved each other that much, the ending basically says, “HEY ACTUALLY they totally love each other more than anything”, which makes it terribly depressing either way, because you can either... well, stay with him forever, to the detriment of literally everyone else, or, you know, not stay with him, in order to kind of save everyone. It’s already very heart-wrenching, but letting them literally be in love? GAWD. Talk about pulling heartstrings. It would have made the ending like... an actual choice. (BIG SPOILER BELOW although you probably already guessed.) Yeah so you have to kill Constantin to save the island. OR, you two can become the new gods, and everyone fears you and it’s terrible. Lordy. Just terrible either way, because there’s no way you played the game and didn’t end up loving Constantin somewhere along the way, even when the red flags started going up that he’d gone power mad. (Because even when he’s power mad, he still obviously loves de Sardet SO MUCH, OH my god...) So. As I said. You should be able to romance Petrus because, well, I want to. Need me that problematic ship, c’mon! And you should be able to romance Constantin because the whole plot is literally written that way??? It’s like the romance that is set in stone, you know? And it literally drives the plot. The whole “Constantin gets native powers and decides he wants to be a god” thing was sort of predictable (as soon as it started happening, because shit, I didn’t have a clue what was going to happen before!), but overall I thought the game and story were pretty good. I recommend playing it if you’re got 40 hours free and it’s really on sale or something. I give it an 8.2 out of 10. (Higher if it didn’t start to feel kind of grindy at points. Lower if I’d had to pay for it. Much higher if they let you romance your pseudo-dad or pseudo-cousin, hahaha.)

#elo talks #Greedfall #elo rambles #not a coherent review actually just me giving a rundown of the game and characters #and then babbling about ships that didn't happen #long post

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mst3kproject · 3 years

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The Navy vs the Night Monsters

Of course, it’s not like bad things stop happening now that 2020 is finally over… we just get to start counting again from zero. Kind of like how I’ve started counting thirty-six Episodes that Never Were per year, beginning with this one. It was co-directed by Wyott Ordung from Robot Monster and features familiar faces like Russ Bender and Mamie Van Doren, the latter for once not playing a teenage delinquent. It also has one really obscure MST3K connection: it was based on a story by Murray Leinster, which the sharp-eyed will remember as the name of the ship attacked by Evil Count Zarth Arn’s lava lamp weapon at the beginning of Starcrash!

A plane carrying specimens of Antarctic flora and fauna makes a rather rough and unexpected landing at a naval base on remote Gow Island in the south Pacific. There appears to be nobody on board except the pilot and a few penguins – the former is in a catatonic state, and the latter are... well, penguins... so what happened to the rest of the passengers and crew is a complete mystery. Did the pilot go mad and kill them? Did the penguins? Or did it have something to do with those mysterious ancient trees discovered growing around a geothermal spring in the heart of the frozen continent?

The first ten minutes of this movie are spent trying to be a comedy. Before we get anywhere near the plot, we first have to listen to the guys on the plane try to be funny about their lunch and their tastes in women. Then on the island, we watch a guy who can’t seem to figure out how to inflate a balloon, followed by a dude talking to his dog, and then a really icky bit where two women convince a man he had sex with both of them, which he buys because he was too drunk to remember. Only then do we finally establish what’s actually going on. The impression one gets from this beginning is that The Navy vs the Night Monsters is going to be peopled entirely by Jackass Comic Relief characters, and I actually turned the film off and sat on it for a couple of days to psych myself up to watch the rest.

When I finally turned it back on, to my relief the movie turned out not to be quite that bad, but it’s still pretty damned bad. The dull and unfunny opening is followed by an abrupt shift of tone, as a man maddened by terror jumps from the plane to his death! The only thing set up by the opening that turns out to be relevant is Spaulding the meteorologist’s crush on Nora the nurse, when she’s in love with the base’s second in command, Lieutenant Brown.

I complain frequently about useless love triangles in movies. This one is very useless, and all the more so because the script totally forgets to resolve it. Spaulding hates Gow Island but stays because he’s in love with Nora – he wants her to go back to Miami with him and marry him. When he puts this idea to her, however, it becomes obvious that Nora can’t stand him, and it’s clear enough why: Spaulding is an asshole and he treats Nora not as a partner but as a possession. Never does he show any sort of tenderness towards her. Every time they speak to each other, he seems to end up shouting, and his jealousy of Brown repeatedly leads to violence.

Brown, on the other hand, treats Nora with respect and actually shows vulnerability around her. He’s been left in charge while the base’s commander is on the mainland attending an important meeting, and he’s really feeling the pressure as the base is surrounded by tree monsters in the dark. He talks about his anxiety and Nora comforts him, and the audience rolls their eyes because it’s perfectly obvious which of these guys she’s going to pick. And sure enough, at the end she’s in Brown’s arms… but nothing about the whole situation is exactly resolved.

Brown and Spaulding did get in a fist fight, though it wasn’t explicitly over Nora, but nobody ever talks about the problem. Spaulding never realizes that he’s treated Nora badly, and it never seems to even occur to him that she might prefer Brown over him, or even that she has emotions or preferences at all. He definitely never seems to understand that he’s lost. Brown and Nora seem to feel a need to hide their love affair from the other base staff, but we’re never given a reason why (although I guess ‘Spaulding’s a dick’ is reason enough). Nora never tells Spaulding that she prefers Brown… maybe she’s afraid he’ll assault her? I hate everything about this situation, but nothing more than the fact that as the movie progresses we get hints that Nora may be warming up to Spaulding, as if she’s supposed to consider these two guys equal contenders for her affections! Fuck everybody who wrote this, seriously.

It’s kind of sad to see Mamie Van Doren in a role like this after meeting her in things like Untamed Youth and Girls Town. Those movies were gross and exploitative, but Mamie’s characters were central to their plots and she filled those shoes reasonably well. She wasn’t Oscar material but for what the films were, she was enough to carry them. The Navy vs the Night Monsters is a little closer to being a ‘real movie’, but in this respect it represents a step down for her, as she is relegated to being something for two men to fight over. Furthermore, Silver from Girls Town and Penny from Untamed Youth were both characters who required some range – Nora the nurse mainly spends the whole movie being annoyed with the men in her life. Van Doren could have done much more if anyone had bothered asking it of her.

Let’s see… what else do I hate about this movie? I hate Private Chandler, the guy who stays a Jackass Comic Relief character once that opening is over. Shockingly, The Navy vs the Night Monsters actually kills him off, but he’s not nearly as annoying as Dropo or the guy from Outlaw, so his death merely feels mean rather than having any entertainment value. The guy was just about to actually get laid by one of the women who’d made fun of him earlier – though she, like Spaulding, showed no sign of being sorry for past jerkitude.

I hate the monsters. Normally I have a soft spot for plant monsters. They’re a cliché in their own way, I guess, but they’re a fun idea. The ones in The Navy vs the Night Monsters kill and digest people with acidic sap, and a character theorizes about how and why such a thing would evolve, which is cool. The execution, however, sucks. While the poster for the film shows us a humanoid Treebeard-looking thing, the actual monsters in the film are dumb-looking stumps that waddle along like a couple of guys trying to move a piece of furniture corner-by-corner because it’s too heavy to lift. The result reminds me of The Creeping Terror, in that you have to want to get eaten by these things. At one point a guy walks right up to one, inspects it, and escapes its clutches merely by backing away slowly!

The trees reproduce using insect-like larvae that are, themselves, lethally venomous. This is also a neat idea which is, once again, ruined by the execution. The tiny ones are being pulled along the floor by a sometimes-visible string, and then they grow into stumps that look like they should be stools around a boy scout campfire, which move even slower than the adult trees! There’s a scene where the characters are holed up in the base under an onslaught of these, with planes arriving to napalm them just in time, and it is ludicrous in its attempt to feel threatening.

I do like that Gow Island is a bleak middle-of-nowhere rather than a tropical paradise. The landscapes kind of remind me of the Falkland Islands, though the weather on Gow is evidently better. You can see why some of the characters hate it here, surrounded by barren scrub inhabited mostly by ten thousand smelly, raucous seabirds. Unfortunately this backdrop makes the ‘comedy’ opening seem even more out of place, though it’s also kind of nice that they didn’t give us any stereotyped ‘natives’ as either comedy or monster fodder.

As for a theme… well, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is clearly about an invasive species. The biologist, in suggesting how the tree monsters evolved, points out that they are suited to the hostile environment of Antarctica in ways that make them nearly unstoppable anywhere else. We’re told that they devoured all the penguins the scientists were bringing back for study, and as well as eating the people, they wreak havoc among the Gow Island seabirds and reproduce out of control. The parallels to things like cane toads in Australia, or housecats just about anywhere, are obvious.

This isn’t something the characters care about, though, even the ones who profess to be scientists. At the end, enough of the trees are destroyed that the humans can safely evacuate, and what happens after that is clearly Gow Island’s problem, not humanity’s. I really would have liked to see the script go into this a little more, but then, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is not a movie that wants to go into anything, even stuff it sets up in some detail.

At the end, The Navy vs the Night Monsters feels pretty half-assed. Somebody wanted to make a movie, and then put in the bare minimum effort possible to have all the parts present. They clearly understood how movies work, but they didn’t have the money and didn’t want to go to the trouble. The result is deeply mediocre. There’s a few laughs out of the dumb stump creatures, but mostly it’s just bad.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the navy vs the night monsters #tw: abuse #humanitarian vegetables #60s

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iprefertheterminsane · 3 years

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Hey guys I almost never post Southeast Asian discourse and politics here because, let's be honest, I feel so much better sympathising and laughing at other (read; American) politics because it carries the same amount of impact for me as my favourite fiction.

But then the Bali discourse happened on twitter. Sir. What the fuck?

Poppin in here to remind my American followers that Racism, Religious bias, Colonialism and Queer history and connotations carry COMPLETELY differently in A WHOLE OTHER GODDMANED CONTINENT with mixmeshed cultures history. Leave it. You do not know it. Unless you were born, raised and LIVED here, you probably do not know what you are talking about and coming off as just completely condescending and stupid.....as almost ALL Americans sound like. We do not care that you are black. We do not care that you are white. Some of us here don't even know what the fuck that even means. Worse comes to worst? You sound like a Karen. The phrase Orang Barat (westerners) literally carry the same kind of weight you put into the Karen term. Pls respect the culture, the natives, and the country. Were all having a bad enough time as is

#bali discourse had me boiling over #bitch really came here #illegally #to live in luxury in a third world country #gentrifying us #victimising HERSELF #classic Karen move #glad i missed the worst of it #god damn it

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sparky-sparky-boom-man · 4 years

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So obviously jk Rowling’s interpretation of magical society in America is absolutely shit. It’s fucking awful, no way around it, she did the least amount of research she could, she absolutely didn’t care about the casual racism of how she treated Native Americans and it shows. But, ignoring all that for a second, I really fucking hate Ilvermorny. I do. I really do.

So first off, instead of devising some sort of cool, ancient magic school or system of learning that belonged to indigenous tribes, she just fucking slapped another pasty Irish lady with the task of making another hogwarts in America and bringing wands and introducing “proper” magic to America(which has an uncomfortably colonizing vibe to it).

Second, it’s in a castle. A castle. An ancient castle. In America. So I get that they have magic but not only is that stupid as fuck considering it was early America and ye old lady Isolde or whatever the fuck definitely had better things to do than building a fucking castle, where in the goddamn world would she have gotten time to build it? In the midst of fighting off dysentery because this uncivilized land has no magic cures and she never went to school? Did she get hell from her good Puritan neighbor Jeremiah with the 12 kids and pneumonia who’s constantly on the hunt for witches to burn?

Third, jk originally meant for it to be another boarding school, and only changed in on Pottermore after everyone pointed out how fucking stupid it was when America has no boarding school culture.

And lastly why the fuck is it the only magic school in America???? That doesn’t even make the slightest sense. Not only is America fucking ginormous compared to the UK and it’s very doubtful that parents would just let their kids travel across the fucking country twice a day, if you calculate the population of all the magical, school-age children in America(I’m including the territories because fuck you) you wil almost always get a number upwards of 25,000. 25,000 is the size of a small city, not the ideal population of a single school. Continuing on that, ilvermorny apparently accepts students from all over North America. So that number gets infinitely bigger once you include students from Canada, Greenland, and Iceland. Which means you end up with a single school housing tens of thousands of teenagers everyday.

No matter how you try to reason it, maybe it’s like a college, maybe they have giant classrooms, maybe they have thousands of teachers, this is just the most horribly designed school ever. And it was really fucking dumb of jkr to assume that A) the only school that would work in America is a second hogwarts. B) that we wanted a second hogwarts instead of something unique to us. C) that any part of hogwarts could be ported over to America and just work. And D) that she thought she could get away with this.

So, in defiance of the endless problems and mindless stupidity that Ilvermorny presents, I have a headcanon that helps me survive its presence in canon. It doesn’t exist.

No, I’m not pretending that it literally doesn’t exist like we all do to the disgrace that I the Cursed Child. I mean it’s like a continent-wide inside joke. So maybe a young witch had a conversation like this one day.

British wizard: Yeah mate, everyone goes the Hogwarts, where else would we go? What’s your school called?

American witch: my... school? Are you asking for my school name or all the names? Because I don’t know all of them

BW: Doesn’t everyone in North America go to the same school?

AW: *narrows eyes, thinks about the fundamental differences between Britain and the Americas and wonders how someone could come up with that conclusion* no, we all go to local schools

BW: *flabbergasted* you mean you don’t go and live at your school with everyone else?

AW: buddy, we don’t have the same culture, a single school for all America is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard

BW: this is ridiculous! That’s what we do at Hogwarts and Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world!

AW: *annoyed sigh*

Maybe this conversation happens a few times with varying people, AW meets others who’ve also had conversations like this with British people, eventually this happens

Different British Wizard: Yeah so I went to Hogwarts like everyone else back home, does everyone in America go to the same school?

AW: ...... yes

BW: What’s it called?

AW: uh... uh... illllvermoorny. Yeah, that’s it, Ilvermorny. Best real school ever. Love it.

BW: Cool! Does it have houses?

AW: ahhhh.... yes? *searches head for American creatures that this asshole can’t call her bullshit on* there’s four... the uh... thunderbird... the... pudwudgie..... uh, the horned serpent, and the uh, uh.. wampus. Yep, those four.

It just snowballed from there with this poor American witch lying out of her ass and she made up a whole creation story that, if you look close enough, was definitely not well thought through. But it seemed to get the guy off her back and so she spread the word, told all her friends that ‘hey if anybody not from North America asks us about our school system tell them this’ and her friends told their friends and so on and so forth until every magical person in North America knew it.

They keep up the pretense to this day, everybody just bullshits about Ilvermorny to every European person they meet. Europe is the only place that still believes Ilvermorny is real, everywhere else has at least something similar, their own version of multiple schools, there’s just too many people to only have. Except in Europe.

Every now and then some honest fellow tries to tell the truth, about the hundreds of schools, the focus on ancient Magics that the native tribes used, their history program that tells the stories of witches and wizards in slavery and internment camps, and how the wars the English had with the goblins were so very inconsequential when it came to the underground factions and resistance against slavery and native ethnic genocide. They laugh, they say that doesn’t make sense, it couldn’t possibly be true. They say that there was no way wizard and muggle society could be that intertwined, don’t try to get one over on me you silly yank. So the Americans tell the Europeans what they want to hear, after all they won’t listen to anything else, everyone’s tried.

Tldr: Ilvermorny is a fake school that Americans pretend is real so they don’t have to try and explain the differences in schooling to Europeans

#harry potter #wizard #witches #wizarding world #wizarding schools #ilvermorny #ilvermony houses #ilvermony school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #jkrolwing #haha jk #youre dead to me #death of the author #she really didnt think it through #headcanon #fandom

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

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Well, Well, Well || Ariana & Otto

TIMING: Some time before Winn went MIA and Celeste died. PARTIES: @gravityfissure & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana runs into Otto in the woods and they hear what sounds like a call for help.

After spending hours looking over her notes and study guides for finals, Ariana desperately needed a study break. Her head hurt and she needed some fresh air to reset. Thankfully, she was already in athletic wear on account of the fact it was comfortable, so all she had to do was throw on a pair of trainers and hit the trails. With a wave to Ulf, she said goodbye and made her way through the trees. More often than not, she preferred to stay off the beaten path. There was a certain comfort that came with weaving through the trees and taking small leaps as they came up. Maybe it was the more wild part of her nature, but she loved every moment of it. She’d been humming through heavy breaths when she heard something not too far off. As she emerged from the trees, she saw a man snapping photos of the forest around him. She watched closely for a moment before coming into his field of vision. She gave a polite wave and greeted, “Hey, sorry to interrupt.” She looked to the camera in his hands, “Finding anything particularly photo-worthy out here?” Off in the distance, she heard voices, but she tried to tune her own hearing down for a moment to not be a total spaz in front of a stranger.

The forest wasn’t the strangest place for Otto to end up most days. Sometimes he came out here to try and practise in peace, while other days he needed to restock some of his alchemy supplies and others he simply came out just because he wanted some fresh air. Even with the dangers that lurked in the depths of the trees, there was little that compared to wandering the trails (generally he was mindful enough not to wander off them) but he’d seen a particularly curious plant that had drawn him over. He’d just been snapping a couple of photos with his DSLR when a voice behind him caught him by surprise, “oh! Huh, hey” he greeted lowering the camera and waving with his other hand, not recognising the young woman but that wasn’t all that uncommon. He smiled, before shrugging a shoulder and waving at the bright orange flowers with heavily drooping petals speckled with something that almost looked like gold dust sprouting at an angle off a tree. “Found a weird plant, figured I’d investigate.” His eyes took in her attire, a quick once over “out for a jog? Nice weather for it.”

While she couldn’t quite tell what color the flower was, Ariana could still appreciate its beauty and recognize that it wasn’t something she’d seen on her runs through here before. Not that she really did a whole lot of plant watching while on runs, especially if she was working on her pace. It definitely did look somewhat weird the way the petals drooped and she could tell there were speckles on it. “Huh, that’s a neat looking flower. I’ve never seen one of them before. Not that I usually, you know, thoroughly study the plant life on my runs.” She nodded in agreement, the weather was perfect and there was just the right amount of breeze going through the trees, “I love this time of year. It’s warm enough to enjoy a run, but not so hot that it literally feels like,” she cut her sentence off, the voices calling through the trees seemed to be getting louder, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Her head whipped in the direction they were coming from and she whispered, “Do you hear that?”

It certainly didn’t seem native to the continent, plants like this bloomed in the depths of jungles or other far more unreachable spots. Which was part of what had given Otto pause in his walk and left him contemplating the interesting growth. “That’s fair,” he admitted as he peered at the flower once more “definitely not something you’d expect to see around here… Interesting that it’s even survived.” Almost certainly magical in nature that much he could glean. He listened to what the stranger had to say about the weather, it was true, perfect for this time of year and yet it seemed to suddenly grow a little more dim as clouds seemed to pass and settle overhead. Grabbing his jacket he pulled it a fraction tighter around his body especially as something caught his ear… “I-- Yeah, I think so” he strained to tune out the rest of the forest and listen to whatever he thought was coming from the depths of the forest. “It sounds like… Someone’s calling for help? That way…” he pointed to the West and further into the cluster of trees.

Something was out there. The way the wind suddenly had a chill and the sky looked just a little bit darker screamed that something was going on. Whatever it was, it sounded like someone had gotten caught in the middle of it. Ariana stood a little taller as she tried to discern if it was a cry for help. It sounded like this guy was spot on and she let out a deep breath to strengthen her resolve. “I think you’re right. I’m going to check it out. You can come along if you want,” she stated plainly. She wasn’t going to force a stranger she’d just met in the woods to follow her into a potentially dangerous situation, especially if they were human. At least in a worst case scenario, her body’s fight or flight method was to throw a werewolf at the problem. Instinctively, she took a few steps in the direction of the voices before looking back to him to say, “You totally don’t have to come along, but I’m going.”

Whatever it was, Otto didn’t like it one bit. His eyes trained on the treeline and he held his jacket tight for a few long moments. He focussed, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth to steady the sudden uptick in his heart. When she offered him an out, he had half a mind to just turn tail. It wouldn’t take much, and he really didn’t want to die out here. “Hardly seems safe…” but this girl was apparently pretty determined. What was it about people in this town that made them run headlong into danger? His fingers curled a little before falling to his sides, as he weighed up his options but the sound came again, echoing and dissonant on the breeze and before he even realised it, he’d taken several steps forwards. “I’m Otto by way,” if they were going to die out here best to exchange details in case either one of them actually managed to make it out of here.

Maybe safety should have been more of a concern to Ariana, but it hardly seemed to matter if someone else was in danger. Naturally, she had a bit more of an advantage when it came to survival and it seemed cruel to leave someone else out there to die. With a shrug, she explained, “It’s probably not, but I’m a lot tougher than I look.” He seemed to follow her anyway even if it was likely dangerous. The more the merrier when going up against potential threats, right? Her feet took her in the direction of the voice calling for help. Each step taken was intentional and quiet as she avoided stepping on any twigs or rustling any leaves. The element of surprise could work to their advantage if the situation ahead was dire. In a hushed voice, she said, “I’m Ariana. Thanks for tagging along.” If they were going to potentially rush into danger, knowing each other’s names was probably a good thing. She kept a close ear out to make sure they were moving in the right direction before stopping. “We’re close,” she stated, “Try to move silently. Whatever it is, we’ll have the upperhand if it doesn’t know we’re approaching.”

“No offence but that doesn’t make me feel better.” She didn’t look strong, but then again how many creatures had deceiving appearances? Too many really… Nothing about this boded well, yet somehow Otto found himself trailing after this girl out of a mixture of concern and more apparent curiosity both to see whatever was going on out in the forest. He’d been here long enough to know that dangers lurked out here but it didn’t mean he knew just what could be lurking in the dark or that he wasn’t equally curious about them. Perhaps if he could harvest some resources he could try out a few new experiments, but that meant discovering just what might be out here and then hypothesising what could be done with them after the fact. One thing that could be said about White Crest was that it could help him work on his bestiary and harvesting notes… Small perks for the everpresent death and danger that seemed to lurk around every corner in this place. “No worries… I’m not regretting it just yet…” he admitted scanning around the nearby trees growing quiet as the calls grew louder, and Otto felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. “Right… Silently,” he eyed the ground and slowed his speed to make it easier to place his feet and not snap any untoward twigs though he hardly felt stealthy. “You see that?” he whispered pointing ahead to what appeared to be a clearing, in the centre of which sat an abandoned stone well.

Ariana was more than used to people thinking she couldn’t hold her own. She was smaller than average, but she knew how to pack a punch. In really desperate moments, shifting into a wolf was always an option though it was one she preferred as a last resort. Needless to say, she didn’t take offense to Otto not being assured by her being tougher than she looked. The crying sound definitely appeared to be coming from the clearing and her eyes landed on the well. The way the call echoed it seemed like someone was trapped in the bottom of the well. “I see it, yeah. Think someone’s gotta be trapped down there. Sounds like a kid,” she whispered to him, unsure of why she was still whispering if it was just a kid. Part of her had very little trust for the whole situation being simply what it appeared to be. “I’d still be careful approaching. I don’t trust there to not be anything sketchy.” She kept herself crouched as she walked and tried to get a good smell of the area. Maybe it was too far out from the full moon, but she couldn’t pick up on the smell of another person or even distinguishable animal. Her brow furrowed. Something about this didn’t feel right, but she still pressed forward anyway. She finally stood a little taller and peered over the edge of the well to see a strange looking limb coming at her. “What the fuck,” she yelped as her hand took a swipe at it, claws instinctively coming up and scratching whatever it was while causing her to wince slightly. She took a big step back, keeping her stance defensive.

“Maybe… Or something that sounds like a kid…” If there was one thing Otto’s brain told him, it was that walking towards a creepily abandoned well in the middle of the forest from which something was screaming were all signs that it should not be tampered with. “I don’t--” he started to say but Ariana was already forging ahead while Otto preferably hung back to gauge the situation before he truly got involved “oh for-- woah!” Something swiped the air, near to Ariana’s vicinity and it was in the responding swipe he saw the slightly transformed hand. Well, that was a little better at least. “What the fuck…” he whispered quietly, concerned that raising his voice too much might stir the creature from its depths while he continued to stare at the well that seemed to have grown dark and still all of a sudden. “Why isn’t it… What the fuck? What was that?”

One thing that became immediately clear to Ariana was that whatever was down that creepy well was not in fact a child. At least not of any human or human-ish variety. Whatever the fuck it was seemed to want to pull her down the well as a snack which she most decidedly was not chill with. “I have no idea what the fuck that thing is, but it’s definitely not a fucking child.” She took a step closer again, hands raised and ready to fire back, trying to get a better look at the thing. It seemed to come quickly pattering up the well again. She took another quick swipe causing it to recoil in pain. “Any ideas on how to kill this thing outside of me slashing it to death,” she asked Otto, not daring to look away from the well and give whatever the fuck that thing was any sort of advantage.

“No… That’s probably how it gets people out here though,” Otto eyed the well cautiously unsure what the best next option would be. “It hasn’t followed us up though, unless we go near the edge…” so logically he’d been about to say let’s not do that. But Ariana seemed to want to do the absolute contrary and he could only watch as she took another swipe with her claws. “It doesn’t seem to want to get out of there,” he pointed to the well, “so maybe we try and get it out to see what happens… Or maybe we try and trap it down there?” It seemed like a good climber, “taking the head off most things tends to do the trick but uh I don’t have anything to do that, unless I tried with magic but there’s no guarantee that’ll work. Depends. What do you think’s best?”

Why Ariana had gotten close to whatever that thing was again was beyond her, but her fight or flight instinct had always been a little more fight than flight. Slicing it to death with her claws would take too long and she wasn’t even sure if bleeding out would really kill this thing to begin with. “Okay, valid point,” she agreed, taking a few steps back from the well, “I could always go full wolf, but I don’t know how possible lobbing this thing’s head off is.” Her eyebrows raised and eyes widened at the mention of magic. She practically gasped, “Wait, you can do magic? I mean, yeah luring it out and chopping it’s head off is something I could do if I had a sword or something. Think you could set it on fire?” She smacked her own head realizing wells were filled with water, “Sorry, too many movies. Also, like hella water in a well, probably.”

“Mm, I’d say if it doesn’t want to follow us out of there then at a guess it’s probably because it's weaker without the element of surprise right?” From what Otto had seen so far it made the most sense otherwise the creature would’ve been up in their faces already. “Uh---” there was an awkward look at the reaction to his mention of magic, “yeah I can,” it was a general misconception he was used to encountering but he hadn’t anticipated having to explain it here. “I mean. I can’t just… summon a sword that’s not really how it works and fire isn’t really my wheelhouse anyway. But if we can get it out, and if you can pin it - I can cast a spell that should be able to do the trick if you can keep it pinned for the time it takes me to cast?”

“That makes sense. Gives me the upper hand in a fight,” Ariana agreed, keeping a close eye and ear on the well. That thing wasn’t surprising either of them or anyone else again. As Otto explained how his magic worked, she nodded along. The plan was a little dangerous for her, but she was scrappy enough that she believed she could pin the thing down. “Alright, drag the fucker out and pin ‘em down long enough for you to cast a spell. I don’t love it, but I can do it.” Seeing fingers at the edge of the well, she threw an arm in front of Otto and said, “Looks like I’m going in.” She lunged ahead, grabbing for an arm that shot out of the well. At the sign of further danger, the wolf seemed eager to come out. While her claws and fangs sprouted out with the odd tufts of fur coming through, a low cautionary growl was given. It was an uncomfortable sensation that was unlike the usual liberation that came with a full moon. Her body didn’t like being caught between two states, but the fight in her was able to ignore it in favor of them both getting out of this alive.

It wasn’t the most ideal plan, but it was a plan and one Otto would try to follow through on to the best of his abilities but you couldn’t always guarantee things would go according to how you tried to fix them in your mind. Still, Ari was moving in a blur of motion before he could fully process anything else and he shrugged. “Well here goes nothing.” There was a horrible wail from the well as another long spindly arm swung up to try and bat Ariana away and Otto’s eyes trained on the limb. His feet sunk into a wide stance to balance him and connect him to the nearby environment, the stronger his connection the more likely this was going to work but even that wasn’t always a guarantee. Still, Otto’s hands shot out palms upturned and the air above Ariana shuddered as the clawed arm slapped off some invisible force sending up sparks of purple energy that made Otto grimace. “Come here you fucker,” his left hand remained upturned, but the right swept out and around, over and down before his fingers clawed into a fist as if grabbing some unseen force and he slowly pulled up. Sweat trickled down his brow, as the words of the spell flowed but eventually the sound of scraping and scrabbling rocks could be heard as the thing was pried loose from its abode.

Pulling the spider like man thing up from the well was getting easier as Otto began working his magic. Ariana was still struggling a bit. The stupid thing clung to the stones along the sides of the well and tried to swipe at her whenever the opportunity arose. This was decidedly not your friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Miles Morales would never. A low growl escaped her lips as one of the arms managed to get a swipe in. She grabbed hold of another limb, sinking her claws in, and yanking as hard as she could as she heard the sound of falling rocks and stone within the well. It became easier to pull the creature from the depths of the well now that it had lost its grip. “That’s right, Spider Douche,” she snarked, pulling the thing further away from the well. She wasn’t taking any chances, but it still squirmed beneath her grip. She didn’t dare chance a glance back at Otto. She had to trust he was doing his magic thing. If she looked away, that gave this thing an opening to attack without immediate reaction.

The magic looped and curled around the creature’s limbs until with a sharp yank the creature came free with Ari’s help. It flew a few feet before skidding to a stop in a divot or dirt nearby and Otto was already moving dragging the heel of his right boot in a half-arc from front to back the movements helping to focus the magic on the necessary target. If Ari could keep the thing - whatever the hell it was right there the spell should work. God he hoped it worked. It’d be embarrassing to have to explain to the other wolves how he’d gotten Ariana killed if that’s what happened here. Hopefully it didn’t come to that though. Palms pressed tightly together as one arm drew back as though wielding an imaginary bow at the purple wisps gathered between the points of his palms in a series of smoke-like strings. His weight rocked back onto the right foot before he pushed off hard, jumping up; gaining more height than the typical person might normally be able to gain his arm pivoting forward. The action sent streaks of purple energy whipping down on the creature’s neck. Each struck true and the creature screamed and writhed to try and break away black ichor like substance oozing from the gashes in its neck. “When I say, get outta the way,” he yelled, his brow beaded with sweat and blood starting to drip down his nose having noticed a stack of boulders on the edge of a nearby overhang not too far from where Ari and the creature was.

Every sense was tuned in on the monster thrashing below her grip. Ariana had to stay sharp and watch the movement of all its thrashing limbs. One had ripped the left side of her favorite running tights, but it was barely a scratch to her actual leg. She had no attention to devote to seeing how Otto was doing with the whole magic aspect of this. Not if she had any intention of staying alive at least. Her claws swiped to slice any limb that got too close for comfort. She heard Otto explaining she had to move when she told her to and she called out, “Got it.” A low growl rumbled from her as it continued to fight her hold on it. “Stay put you stupid spider fuck,” she groaned. She waited for Otto’s instructions to move, using every ounce of strength she had to keep the creature in place. She repeated a mantra to just hold the thing down to help suppress the urge to go all in on this thing. This was definitely more a workout than she intended to have today, but at least this thing wasn’t going to hurt anyone else. That is, if they actually managed to kill it before it killed them.

Otto didn’t need an audience, as much as he might enjoy one. He was happy to work, pulling his hands in the motions he’d been practising and figuring out lately. Unfortunately, this kind of resistance due to the size of the boulder made him grit his teeth as nature fought back against the magic that was trying to drag the boulder off the cliff. Sweat pooled at the back of his neck, his hands shook and static tingled at the tips of his fingers as he dug deep for resolve to reinforce the act. He breathed, in through his nose and exhaled forcefully through his mouth as with a wilful cry he dragged his hands down and a crack from overhead could be heard. There was a sharp throbbing pain in his hand, that Otto ignored for the time being as the rock careened through the air down and down and Otto waited clutching his hand as he watched until it was halfway at its trajectory before he yelled “NOW!” He just hoped

Fatigue was beginning to hit Ariana as she did her best to keep the monster contained to one spot. Her snarls and growls seemed to do little to keep the leggy motherfucker from trying to eat both of them. It felt like Otto was taking forever to do his magic thing. Not that she had any idea how the whole magic thing worked. Even though she was a wolf, magic was still way over her head. Apparently so was this physical fight because she was exhausting her energy more quickly than she would have liked. The claws in her hand were throbbing and every instinct in her was screaming to just rip this monster to shreds. Ignoring pure instinct was becoming exceedingly more difficult. Damn it, Otto, hurry up. It felt like forever before Otto finally called out for her to move. She quickly dodged out of the way and looked dumbfounded as she saw the boulder crush the creature that had been residing in the well. “Holy shit,” she breathed, “You moved that shit with your brain? That’s so cool.”

Even under the boulder it continued to twitch just as Otto’s hand throbbed and glancing down he noticed the mild purple-black discolouration spreading across his thenar eminence. “Sure, I’m the next Professor X,” he quipped trying to massage the area of his hand with the other but stopping at the sharp shooting pain that radiated from the pressure. That was a new one. Likely from a mistake in the wordings or perhaps the somatic components of the spell. The creature twitched again and Otto stared at it for a long moment, “maybe just… yank its head off or something? That’ll probably get rid of it for sure…” Who knew what that thing could come back from, but considering how it still writhed under a boulder of all things he didn’t really want to find out.

It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the fact she was struggling in her partially transformed state. Ariana felt sore and it was hard to deny this creature’s blood was beginning to smell appetizing. Concentrate, Ariana. Concentrate. Who knows what reaction you’ll have if you eat this thing. The boulder was crushing the well monster, but its limbs still twitched and flailed. Through gritted teeth, she responded, “Head off, got it.” Easy enough. She did want to rip the thing’s head off and still hadn’t relaxed fully, so her claws were still extended. She dug her claws into its neck and pulled as hard as she possibly could. While it’s head was still hanging on by a string, it did seem to let out a final croak before becoming completely limp. Ariana collapsed to the ground, exhausted from being torn in between two states and her claws retreated. She took in a few haggard breaths and explained, “I just need a minute. Good thinking on the boulder though. I don’t know what the fuck that thing was, but glad I had you for back up.”

#otto #well well well #wickedswriting

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ladynestaarcheron · 4 years

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Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Ten

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos@sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me)

hey guys!! i am so very excited to be able to post chapter ten of like pristine glass so early. i wrote nearly all of it today!! 2.5k words!! i really thought that with my school load this was going to take me another two weeks!! guess 2020 is off to a great start for me; hope it is just as wonderful for you the whole way through<3

and thank you to my beautiful beta @thestarwhowishes!!

---

October 30 - 4 years after

Feyre and Elain are silent at the room in the inn while they wait for Cassian to return. But he doesn’t. Not all night.

Feyre’s miserably upset at herself, running the whole thing over in her mind, again and again, wishing she had just not said anything. They were already on thin ice with her, and they knew that Nesta was letting them rush her, and that she’d be looking for any reason to pull herself and her children out of the agreement. And thanks to Feyre, she didn’t have to look very far.

She could have just not said anything. That’s what she keeps thinking. How many times had Nesta granted her the same courtesy, bit her tongue around Feyre’s family? Nearly every gathering.

She hadn’t meant it maliciously; she is sure Nesta knows that.

“All right,” Elain says, suddenly, grudgingly, “don’t...don’t kill yourself over this.”

Feyre looks up. “I didn’t mean it,” she says, her voice weak.

“I know.” Elain sounds more like herself now: gentle, comforting. “And she...she knows too. It’ll take her a while, but Cassian...” Elain trails off.

Will Cassian sway Nesta’s forgiveness? Or will he not want to risk her anger turning on him?

Neither of them know.

“We’ll try again when Cassian says she’s agreed to it,” Elain decides.

That’s all they have left to do.

November 9 - 1 year after

Sugar Books was very different than Emerie’s shop for a myriad of reasons, but Nesta thought the main one was that here, her boss did not particularly care what she was doing.

It was the oddest thing, especially considering all Sugar Valley natives were deeply invested in each other’s going-ons. But Adil did not appear to care what she did nor what the other employees did. He had tasks for them, sure, but he did not seem to every check in on anyone. He never gave Nesta more detailed instructions than Organize this . In fact, he hardly spoke to her at all.

So she jumped when he said to her, “You don’t like humans?

She was on her break (no one told her to take breaks, she just took them intermittently), reading a book in one of the corners of the store. She hadn’t seen him come up behind her. “What?”

He gestured to the book. “You have a look on your face. That’s a human novel. You don’t like them?”

Nesta closed the book and showed him the cover. “It’s faerie-authored, about humans,” she said. “And I...like humans just fine. But they’re poorly written here.”

“You know a lot about writing humans?” He didn’t say it condescendingly, but sounded rather skeptical.

Despite herself, Nesta’s lip twitched upwards. “I’m...very well versed in human nature and human literature.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve read more human-authored novels than otherwise,” she said, which was true, but probably wouldn’t be for much longer. “And I...lived amongst them.” She hadn’t told that to anyone in Sugar Valley. No one here knew who she really was.

Adil’s eyebrows shot upwards. “You lived amongst humans?”

I t sounded...silly, when he said it. Living amongst humans. But...it was true. “I did. For...for over twenty years.”

" Hmm,” he said, squinting at her. “Come with me.”

Rubbish book still in her hands, she followed him through the back room, to his office. He reached under his desk and pulled up a box. “Recognize any of these?” he said, opening it and motioning her to come look.

Nesta peered inside.

Classic, mostly. Some newer ones, popular authors from the Continent.

All human.

“Yes,” she said, softly, picking up one of them and inspecting it. An old favorite...she hadn’t seen a copy in years.... “I need a human-authored archivist,” he said. “That entails reading all the books in a timely manner, fixing them up--perhaps adding ink, spining--and setting a price. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Nesta blinked at him.

“It’d be more hours, but it’d pay better than your current position.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Are you...offering me an archivist’s position...because I like to read?”

Adil frowned. “You love books.”

“All right, I love to read. What difference does it make?”

“I didn’t say you love to read. I said you love books. That’s what I need. You were reading that book even though you didn’t like it...why?”

Nesta shrugged. “I wanted to see how it ended. It was poorly written, but...compelling...the way a carriage wreck is, I suppose.”

"T hat’s all I need in my archivists,” he insisted. “A love of books.”

Ne sta looked into the box again. A love of books...was not, in her opinion, a brilliant business strategy.

“It’s yours if you want it,” he said.

But this was not her business. And it was better pay.

And she did love books.

“I do,” she said. “I can start...now.”

Adil nodded once. “Then get Zeyn to show you what to do,” he said, already turning to leave, “and take that box with you.”

October 31 - 4 years after

Nesta feels Cassian’s presence the moment she wakes up; in her blood and bones, so intense she forgets where she is. She feels for a moment that she is in his house in Illyria.

Then she remembers. She is at her home in Sugar Valley and her children are lying in their beds waiting for her, and that thought pulls her out of bed.

She feels indescribably strange as she readies herself for the day. She’s picking out clothes and preparing herself in her bathing room--and he’s there . He was here while she slept and he is here while she’s changing and he’ll be there for breakfast.

But she sees him even before that; for when she leaves her bedroom to go to the children’s, he is there, waiting for her.

“Good morning,” he says, the moment he sees her.

“Good morning,” she replies, caught off guard.

“Do they...get up themselves? Or....”

“Only when I want to sleep in,” she says, with a small smile. “No, I normally wake them. They generally stay in bed until I come in.

“Oh,” he says. Hesitates. “Can I...?”

She shrugs. “All right.” She walks past him to open the door.

Nesta lowers herself by Avery first and bends down to kiss her cheek. “Good morning, ladybug,” she says to her.

Avery groans a little as she writhes in her bed and opens her eyes slowly. They pop and she sits up when she sees Cassian. “Appa!” she says, excited, and launches herself forward to hug him.

Nicky and Ollie stir at their sister’s cry. Ollie sees Cassian first and kicks off his own sheets and rushes to them as well. Nicky follows suit.

Nesta goes stiff even as her heart spasms at the sight of the four of them holding onto each other and laughing--she is thrilled they are happy, but doesn’t know how long this will last. Cassian’s not going to be here every morning. He doesn’t exactly have a job that guarantees weekends off.

(And she is...perhaps...the tiniest bit jealous. They have never thrown themselves at her in the morning.)

No matter, she tells herself. “Brush your teeth, you three,” she says, and she motions for Cassian to follow her out of the room.

Nicky bounds after them, as usual. “We’re going downstairs with Mummy and Appa?” he asks, the sheer exhilaration in his voice more than enough to make her regret her earlier envy.

She is their constant. Cassian is new. And they feel the same connection. He is their father, she is their mother--there is the same connection, and they must feel it. That’s why they’re excited.

Nicky grabs her hand and Cassian’s and pulls them down the stairs, and she will not allow herself to dwell on her complicity in keeping them all separated. Not while her son is clinging to her and babbling on about what he wants for breakfast and what he will do today at nursery and if Appa will be home after nursery, too, and if they can go to the park again, and will his aunts be at the park?

Nesta grimaces to herself--she doesn’t want to think of Feyre and Elain now, either.

She has enough to deal with. How to...work her way around the kitchen with Cassian inside as well. Will they make breakfast together? Will they both try and convince Avery to drink more juice?

The thought, she is surprised to realize, is a warm one. Having...a partner...whom Avery sees as Nesta’s equal....

But this is all far too much for so early in the morning. So Nesta rids her mind of the countless unwanted thoughts swirling through her head and starts making them breakfast.

November 17 - Year of

She had come home late last night from the bonfires. He could feel that she wasn’t in the house when he arrived, and heard her come in from his room. The smoky smell had woven itself in her hair and she carried it in with her. He didn’t like it much; it obscured her own scent.

But he was thrilled about one thing--if she was ready for a night out at a bonfire with over a hundred Illyrians she didn’t know, she was ready for breakfast with him.

She normally got up early now, what with her new job. But perhaps Emerie had told her to take her time today, because he only heard her rise past nine.

Cassian tried not to hum to himself as he worked his way around the kitchen, but he couldn’t help it. Nesta was going to sit for a meal with him. They’d have a real civilised conversation. Maybe even pleasant. And then she’d go to work and she’d come home and they'd have dinner together...and then...and then...what?

He wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen. He knew what Feyre wanted to happen--Nesta would have enough time and space to cool down, and after a few months, she’d ask to be brought back to Velaris, and pick up where she left off with her sisters when Feyre first came back from Prythian.

Thinking through the plan now, Cassian couldn’t help but scoff at their own naivety. Well, his and Feyre’s naivety. He was sure Rhys thought Nesta was beyond all hope, and he didn’t know why Amren had thought this was a good idea.

But now he feared Illyria wasn’t cooling Nesta off; it was freezing her in a different way. The nothing in her eyes was gone, sure, but the fire was not back.

He missed her.

He straightened as he felt her behind him. “Good morning,” he said, not sharing any of the whirlwind of emotions he felt inside him in his voice.

“Good morning,” she replied, carefully, after a beat.

“Breakfast?” he said, still keeping his voice casual. He slid the omelet he had made her onto a plate and turned around to see her.

“Sure,” she said, taking his offering.

Cassian fought back a grin. Sure was like thank you from Nesta.

She sat down at the table. He did too.

S he didn’t object.

“Coffee?”

“No,” she said. Then she added, “That’s all right.”

Another alternative to thank you. This was going well.

“So,” he said, watching her cut the omelet into small pieces and eat it, “you came home rather late last night.”

Nesta lowered her fork. She didn’t say anything, just looked at him.

Ah. Wrong thing to say. He shouldn’t push her too far. “You were at the bonfire, right?” He made himself sound like he didn’t care too much, and stood up while he said it to go to the fridge. He pretended he was mindlessly browsing when he said, “Was it fun?”

Nesta was quiet for a moment. Then she slowly went back to her omelet. “It was all right.”

“Oh, did you try the smoked hazelnut? Sweet, right?” He stopped himself before he said, Like chocolate.

For the bar still lay there on the counter, both of them dutifully ignoring it.

Nesta muttered something noncommittal. He didn’t blame her. Sweet, right? What a stupid thing to say.

“Well,” he said, returning to the table with two glasses and a jug of orange juice. “Nice that you had a good time with Emerie. Maybe next time you’ll come with me to a bonfire.” He looked up to grin at her from pouring the juice.

Nesta put down her fork forcefully and straightened--no easy task, considering she was always so stiffly upright, anyway. Except when she was reading, of course.

“Do you think,” Nesta began, her tone harsh and cold as the ice he feared these mountains had made her, “that I have forgotten that you are entirely complicit in my exile to this backwater region? Do you think I have simply moved on from the fact you all saw it fit to leave me here for days on my own with no one else I know, in a war camp full of people who hate and fear me?”

It was the most she had said to him in nearly a year. His eyes widened as he watched hers fill with some sort of power-- her power.

Did she mean...was she talking about when he left to the neighboring camps? That she was...scared? When he left her?

“Allow me to assure you,” she continued, face set in her perfect, contained rage, “I have not forgotten, and I will never forget.”

And with that, she stood up and stalked out of the kitchen.

Cassian put down the jug of orange juice he had squeezed himself that morning and walked over to the liquor cabinet.

She hated him, so it was not too early for whiskey, but it was far too late for freshly squeezed orange juice.

Well , he thought miserably, at least we talked .

October 31 - 4 years after

Rhys is waiting for them when they arrive. Elain hadn’t expected anything else, but she’s still annoyed. She’s not yet forgiven him for...everything.

“How was it?” Rhys asked. “Cassian...he stayed?”

“It was going perfectly well until I ruined it,” Feyre tells him, and although Elain doesn’t want her sister to dwell on their sorrows, she doesn’t disagree. “Cassian told us to leave. He’s going to be staying there for a while.”

Rhys frowns. “What about the armies?”

“He says he trusts the Illyrian camp lords to run everything themselves for a while, and the other forces in the Southern territory effectively run themselves anyway,” Feyre says, shrugging. “I told him to take as much time as he needs.”

Rhys nods, and, although she is still upset with him, Elain allows him this: he never places his word above Feyre’s.

“Maybe...you should go alone next time, Elain,” Feyre says to her. “I mean, she might not be angry with you. Or at least, she’ll forgive you sooner.”

Elain is not in the mood to hear Rhys soothe Feyre and quickly says, “I’m just going to get settled back in now,” and leaves before he can start.

S he hears him say, “Why do you think you ruined it?”

Elain feels a loose tug on her ribs when she shuts the door to her room. She ignores it and pulls up her shields tighter.

It appears there is more than one irritating male mate around today.

The thought is so Nesta-like it makes her laugh out loud. Her heart aches, but...she met her niece and nephews. Her beautiful niece and nephews, perfect and small and like the best parts of Nesta and Cassian.

And some of her! Ollie’s hair is like hers! And Ava’s face; as similar to hers and Feyre’s as they are to Nesta. And Nicky’s going to have the same lips she does. She can tell.

So despite it all, Elain can’t help but smile as she undresses and steps into the back.

Nesta will not stay mad at them forever. And when she is finally ready to let them back into her life, there will be more love than ever before.

---

Chapter Eleven

#like pristine glass #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar fanfiction #nessian au #lizo writes #guys i cannot believe how fast i wrote this #here's hoping all my other chapters go just as quickly!!#please lmk what you think of this one<3 #also i JUST discovered #that if i copy paste this from ao3 #instead of google docs #the italics are copied in!!#game changer people!!

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years

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I love your Magnus responses! Some have brought me to tears :') hopwfully you haven't answered this yet. I always see fics/ metas on how Alec came to terms about his sexuality, but never on Magnus (or just a selecative few). In your opinion how did he come to terms with his bisexuality? - luxxmagnus

okay first of all I LOVE UR BLOG im so glad u like my shit omg fajsfoamsa and second of all BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW MAGNUS CAME TO TERMS WITH HIS SEXUALI-

okay SO. your relationship with sexuality is deeply influenced by your early years, as is, well, most aspects of your personality lol. so i think it’s fascinating to think about magnus’ relationship with his gender identity and sexuality considering he was born in early-1600s indonesia, aka right when the colonization started. meaning, a lot of their customs and views on gender and sexuality couldn’t have possibly been erased yet, but they were being very violently and aggressively repressed. and then he finished his growing-up years with asmodeus, a demon, who can’t really give much of a fuck about gender identity and sexuality. so this means a very complicated relationship is bound to develop, and i love it.

unfortunately, magnus’ exact ethnic background isn’t specified in SH (nor tsc, i believe) which makes the whole discussion a lot harder because there are hundreds of native peoples in indonesia. however, they were very much in contact with each other both before and after the dutch invasion and subsequent colonisation, so what i’m gonna do here is talk a little bit about the views on the subject magnus was definitely aware of, and go from there

i know this specifically asked about his bisexuality so i will refrain from shitting my trans magnus headcanon all over the place but i will say that the Bugis people recognised five genders, including one for AFAB people who identified as neither male nor female, and one that embodied both female and male identities

anyway, queerphobia is, in fact, a very recent and very european thing, and most indonesian people, like most asian people and most non-modern-western peoples, were actually A-okay with what we view today as homosexuality. there were even many rituals centered around men-on-men and women-on-women practices. they were also pretty open with sexuality as a whole; there’s even a mountain with a shrine where people have sex with strangers as part of their religious worship.

but, as we know, the european colonizers were very intent on killing off and erasing all records of their dominated cultures, particularly the aspects that directly challenged the european model of gender, sexuality and relationships, to the point where we, ppl born in previously colonised countries, don’t even know about our culture’s views on gender and sexuality. in indonesia, the dutch criminalised homosexuality and we can’t forget that magnus’ stepfather was dutch, and that magnus was born after the colonisation.

so here’s the context: since it was very early in the colonisation days, there is no way that magnus didn’t know about the very rich and diverse gender and sexuality practices in his own country. there’s just no way. it takes decades to completely erase that shit. and we can’t forget that all indonesian peoples resisted colonisation, a lot. we don’t know the exact nature of magnus’ mother’s relationship with his stepfather, but it is very likely that he either enslaved or forced her to be in a relationship with him, because - well, because that’s colonisation, folks. it’s what these guys do. this is also supported by the way his stepfather treated magnus, because i mean, what the fuck. it was extremely rare that native colonised ppls would willingly be with their coloniser, particularly considering how the dutch were just, like, casually deporting and starving indonesian native ppls and ppl in java had been at war with the portuguese would-be settlers (would-be because they lost amazingly lmao get rekt) since the beginning of the 1500s. so im gonna go out on a limb here and say that magnus’ “stepfather” was, in fact, an abusive piece of shit coloniser who probably mistreated magnus’ mother and was probably a huge reason why she killed herself - i mean, your people are dying, and you’re bound to this guy who abuses and rapes you and keeps telling you everything about you and the way you live and was raised is demonic, that’s just bound to mess with you. actually, the religious aspect of colonisation that taught ppl that their cultures and religious were demonic and immoral and that they either had to repent for that and submit to the colonisers or be killed slash go to hell, hmmm…… well, is probably related to the fact that the idea that magnus was demon-related was repulsive enough to her that she killed herself? and that’s if we go with the interpretation that magnus was the main reason, which isn’t really reliable because 1- magnus clearly thinks he needs to Save Everyone and is bound to think that if anyone gets hurt it’s his fault; 2- canonically, it was magnus’ stepfather who told magnus that the reason she killed herself was magnus’ heritage. i mean i find it hard to believe personally that magnus’ mom didn’t know she was fucking a demon or at least a supernatural entity of some sort, and the whole angel-demon division is a christianity thing anyway, so what the fuck does this mean to magnus’ mom, really? especially considering that, unlike magnus, she probably was alive before the settlers arrived, so it’s even harder to believe that she would just uncritically believe everything about good and evil she was being taught by the guys that were, you know, committing mass genocide. i personally think that if magnus’ eyes were related to her killing herself at all (which makes less and less sense the more i think about it. i mean, what, was he born glamoured? surely she knew about this before he was like 11 or something) it would be because, in a way, this proved that everything she was being told about herself was true. she was demonic, her culture was demonic, and they deserved the absolutely horrific and traumatic things that were happening to them, and her son’s eyes proved it. so it’s not really about magnus as it is about, like, the entire continent of Europe’s bullshit. and anyway, again, everything she was going through was extremely traumatic - i think magnus’ eyes would be almost an afterthought, if considered at all.

anyway, sorry, went on a huge tangent here, i have no self control whatsoever. what i’m trying to say is that magnus grew up in an environment where expressions of different gender and sexuality were very repressed, but he was born in the heart of the very resistance. he was a native man (or, well, boy) and he knew for a fact that most people lived outside of the constricting western gender and sexuality binary, and he lived in a time where the europeans hadn’t really managed to dominate and erase their culture - of course, they never truly did, but the differences were way more latent. so magnus’ views on the whole thing were probably among the lines of “the asshole white people think the way we live is bad and are trying to kill us and that’s why they’re assholes and we’re trying to kick them out, but currently me and my mom are on their hands so i’m gonna have to behave like they expect me to”. so, lots of abuse, a very complicated relationship, but i do believe that magnus wouldn’t have internalised the european bullshit because, well, he was seeing the counterpoint and the resistance and he certainly knew which side was “his”. also in his flashbacks he’s wearing traditional indonesian clothing so there’s that - proof that he wasn’t completely assimilated to european views and culture.

and then he killed the stepfather (good riddance, rot in hell) and went to live his final teenage years with asmodeus. i mean, more like was found by asmodeus and forced to be with him by both the circumstances and asmodeus himself, but you get what i’m saying.

here’s the thing: asmodeus is definitely an asshole and an abuser, but i can’t bring myself to believe he gave a good fuck about modern-western gender roles and sexuality. he is older than them. by a lot. and he doesn’t even care about the earth realm that much, his whole thing is that he wants to rule edom, so i’m not even sure if he knows about them beyond the, like, very very basics. maybe not even that. so during the rest of magnus’ formative years, and probably the time he figured out what exactly his sexuality was anyway, he was in a pretty open environment when it came to that.

so with that we’ve reached the first conclusion of this huge-ass essay that you probably didn’t sign up for: up until he went to England, Magnus was probably pretty comfortable when it came to his sexuality. like, shit, he was fucked up about everything else, but this one thing i can’t see him internalising a lot of.

i’m gonna fast forward the asmodeus years because i don’t have a lot to say beyond that and also i have no fucking clue what the fuck was going on during that time????????? like it ended when magnus banished him to edom, so i can only assume they were on the earth realm the whole time, but what exactly were they doing???? no clue. i am gonna say, tho, that i think one of the reasons why magnus managed to break out of asmodeus’ shitty “be evil” conditioning is precisely because he had been on the other side before?? like obviously magnus must have been an extremely compassionate kid (which again makes absolute sense in the context of him being part of an oppressed people that were trying their hardest to fight together. you learn a few things about community-building and taking care of others in that context, lemme tell you) since he was out there blaming himself for his mom’s death and also for killing his literal piece of shit stepfather who also tried to kill him as well, but i think it’s just that much harder to help your dad commit mass murder when you’ve been on the receiving end of it. obviously he was probably around asmodeus for a while (i’m thinking until he was like, 18? you know, enough to be an adult), especially considering how he needed the help to learn how to master his magic and also he had nowhere else to go, and also asmodeus was all over the place with “they will always think you’re an abomination, i’m the only one who understands you” and he had eyes like him and all. but still. he knew that he didn’t want that, he knew that he liked earth and didn’t like edom at all and he knew that in order to be himself he’d need to get rid of asmodeus. so he did.

anyway, after the First Great Yeeting Of Asmodeus (second yeeting was when he sent him to limbo so he would never be able to come back. ugh we stan) Magnus went to England. I’m guessing that somehow he met other warlocks during his time with asmodeus (which actually makes sense, i mean, asmodeus must have been wanting ppl to join forces with so he could defeat lilith? or something like that idk they never said anything about what they were doing with their time magnus’ backstory’s got more holes than a swiss cheese) and there seems to be a pretty tight warlock community, so maybe he went to wherever it is that the warlocks meet to gossip and shit? trying to find somewhere else where he belonged. and there he met Ragnor, who helped him break out of his shell and find who he was beyond the constant abuse and the deeply ingrained idea that he was Born To Be Evil.

so for a while, magnus was learning who he was, and again the Warlock Community should be pretty open with gender and sexuality considering most of them are also older than western binary bullshit and also come from different, non-european backgrounds. it was probably at this point that he started going around, having relationships, looking for someone who loves him and somewhere to belong in, you know. haha im fine and soon he figured out that he wanted to find out more about the world. magnus is a curious and creative guy, he’s going around inventing portals and shit, he wants to see the world. so magnus goes to the mundane world. it makes sense, considering in most of his pics he seems to be in mundane settings, and there were no accords at that time. also i mean even post-accords magnus is still going around owning clubs where mundanes can get in so i think he’s quite fond of mundanes.

and that’s when shit comes crashing down, because “sodomy” was punishable by death in England until the 1960s and like boy these guys were not into the whole free sexuality thing. at all. i tend to think magnus would go looking for sex and stuff in downworlder and warlock spaces, where there was a lot more freedom and nobody gave a shit, but he was going around meeting people, and he’s vulnerable and he wants to be loved and he’s definitely been in relationships with mundanes. he knows he needs to hide it, but it doesn’t mean he’s uncomfortable with it. so he might get the occasional insult and he knows he needs to be careful, but this is one aspect of himself he’s actually okay with

but like, he’s spent centuries doing that, eventually shit would go down. and it does. i firmly believe that one of his lovers got caught and got the death penalty. magnus managed to escape but couldn’t save him, and i mean, that’s at least the third time he’s blaming himself for someone’s death. immortality is tiring, and he doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere. there’s the shadow world, but even there he’s being looked down on because the shadowhunters are racist assholes. he’s got his friends, sure, but he’s never really felt worthy of any love, or like he belonged anywhere, and he’s been through so much abuse and being used and everything he touches seems to go to shit and he’s tired. and he’s killed someone he loved. again. so he goes to the bridge. and camille finds him, and stops him.

now, i don’t know if that’s how they’ve met of if it’s happened before, something like, seeing each other in parties and in downworlder spaces or something. but either way, he’s at a really low point, and that’s the first meaningful interaction they have - camille saves his life. he feels like she cares.

she’s not the only one who cares, obviously. so does ragnor, so does cat, so does dot and lots of other of his friends. but at this point, he’s feeling so empty it’s hard to believe that they care, and camille is all too quick to figure out his exact weaknesses - she’s there to listen to him when he wants to kill himself, i can only imagine the infodump that went on that night. he gives her all she needs to know - his fear of abandonment, his desire to be loved, his belief that he will never be accepted no matter what, his fear that he really is evil inside after all despite everything proving that he isn’t - to use against him perfectly. camille is smart. she’s also manipulative. and she also seems like a ticket into a somewhat normal world - she’s a woman, she’s immortal, she’s acting all sweet around him and telling him that she understands, that this is why she doesn’t mingle with mundanes, that it’s better if they’re just amongst themselves, that people like them can’t trust too much and need to stick together. slowly, she plants into him the idea that he’s gullible, has a weak judgement, and is just weak in general for going around thinking he could ever have a thing with mortals or could ever find a space to belong. she uses that to drive him away from his friends and make sure he does as she says. also, magnus owes her, doesn’t he? she saved his life. how can he fight her, when she saved his life? how can he say no to her? how can he disagree? he’s gullible, he’s weak, and she’s the only one who has enough patience for him. everyone else leaves. she’s all he has.

in conclusion: his sexuality is a huge factor in camille’s abuse, it’s what makes him vulnerable to her and gives her every tool she needs to manipulate him. it’s not direct, she’s not about to make fun or dismiss his bisexuality because she knows this is not something he’s internalised, but she can weaponize the trauma that queerphobia brings to his life, and so she does.

she wrecks him. like really really wrecks him, everything he’s built for himself, his identity, whatever he had of his confidence. like he was still trying to build all of that, but he was getting there, and she gets him back to ground 0 just like that. i think he only broke up with her because she started doing her more Clearly Immoral shit and magnus can’t do that. say what you want, but magnus’ actual nature has always been to care and to give all that he can for others. and camille is just evil mcbad. and her abuse goes a long way, but i don’t think anything could actually break magnus enough to be okay with hurting others. especially considering how most of his trauma seems to revolve around the fact that he believes he is constantly hurting others, and it seems to me - considering how he’s going all around the place helping everyone and sacrificing himself without a second thought - that helping others is even a way to cope somewhat, he doesn’t focus on himself, he does his job and helps others and doesn’t think about himself and so he copes, he can do what he’s good at and also believe he’s somehow “repenting” for “killing” his mother and stepfather (it was SELF FUCKING DEFENSE he didn’t murder him, but he does seem to believe he did). so that’s probably when they break up, when he realises that camille is just. keen on hurting others and she’s bored with him and his morals anyway. i know that in book canon apparently the reason they broke up was that she cheated on him, but again i don’t consider book canon and show canon to be the same canon, specially considering how magnus is a wildly different character in those. so i don’t think that would somehow be the last straw for him. camille probably was cheating on him left and right but he probably just believed that it was his fault, or just kept forgiving her anyway because he had nowhere to go and it should be enough that she loves him and saved him, right?

he doesn’t really get around to realising that camille is a straight-up abuser and awful person (as shown by the fact that he seems to still internalise the whole “camille saved my life” bullshit when she was really just manipulating him and using his vulnerability against him) but he does realise that he can’t keep looking for a partner as a solution to his issues. he also doesn’t really want to be in a relationship after her, not when he’s broken in more pieces than he was when he left asmodeus, and that was a lot of pieces as well. so he sleeps around and all, crafts this whole playboy persona of his, and locks his heart away. dedicates himself to the downworlder children he keeps adopting and trying to help, reconnects with ragnor and the other warlocks - who kind of knew what was going on and never blamed him for it or for growing distant with them because they’re amazing and probably have seen this happen many times before.

he also carefully avoids mundane men. he’s not risking getting anyone else hurt.

but then there’s the 60s and 70s, and he’s in bloody new york, and the queer community is shaping itself, and goddamn, after all the hurt and pain he’s seen due to sexuality, he’s not gonna ignore this. also, his Adopting Instincts are way too strong anyway, he can’t really see people struggling and not do anything. so he supports queer spaces, probably made pandemonium one, too - a particularly safe queer space, since she could use his wards to keep police out of his business and ensure everyone’s safety. he definitely was there at stonewall and subsequent protests and parades, keeping people safe, weakening gas bombs and the like with magic, making sure they managed to escape jail.

magnus’ relationship with the mundane queer community is kind of weird, then - he’s not an actual part of it, not really, and he’s particularly scared of getting attached then, so he guards his heart with even more determination than everywhere else. but he still wants to help, so he brings in his money, tries to keep them safe, participates in some community activities and volunteers, and occasionally talks to some kids who were just kicked out of home or something, who are dealing with self-loathing and fear, and even though he hasn’t gone through the whole “my sexuality is unnatural” thing or particularly hated that aspect of himself, he does know what it’s like to be cast away and seen as a monster, and to see himself as uncapable of being loved. so he listens and he talks about his experiences and tries to help as much as he can, and for the most part, he’s successful and he feels kind of accomplished in that sense. he might never have hated himself for his sexuality, but this is the first time he is fully able to bring it into his mundane life. and it also helps him deal with and talk about his other issues, even if he can’t be 100% frank about being an immortal being who does magic and shit, he can connect to these people in a lot of ways, and he also has his own scars brought in by homophobia even if they weren’t internalised in the same way. also, there are names popping up for what people are, homosexuality is being decriminalised all over the world (even in england, he’s heard), things are starting to look up.

as the 80s come up, he knows that a lot of things are changing - that white gay guys are getting more and more space, that the word “bisexual” is being popularised, but also that the reason for that is that a lot of gays and lesbians are trying to get bi ppl out of some spaces, that there’s a division going on between people who want to be seen as palatable and are willing to step over others to get it, and people who refuse to blend into an oppressive society, or just can’t, because they’re trans, they’re people of color, they’re sex workers and homeless and they can never be really assimilated when, even if they’re not getting the death penalty, they’re still getting killed and framed as criminals for existing.

magnus is a person of color as well, he’s bisexual (meaning one of the groups that were being cast away and despised by the white, “clean” gay movement) and he’s been there since the beginning, where these exact people that are being driven away were the only ones building the queer movement, so i think it’s pretty obvious who he “sided” with. not much changed in that aspect, then, since the spaces of queer resistance he was used to were the ones created by the “outcasts”. it was disappointing to see a movement that seemed so amazing at first get slowly gentrified and push the most vulnerable people away again, but at this point, he was used to seeing the divide, to drawing the short end, and at least he could continue as he was and try and help people, right? so life was good as a whole.

then the AIDS crisis happened, and shit that was SO rough. people were dying left and right, they had nowhere to go and there was so little he could do. of course he tried his best - pandemonium, like many other similar clubs, was definitely raising money to help the victims, and he was definitely volunteering to help them, along with catarina (who’s better at healing than he is, anyway), but even healing magic isn’t as simple as “begone, disease” and this was a completely new thing, anyway. there was little they could do beyond try and lessen the pain and symptoms and spend countless nights awake doing research and trying to figure out what exactly was causing this and what they could do to help and try to cure it. it’s endlessly frustrating and he gets to see a lot of people he knew, and talked to, and helped, die slowly while he was unable to do much, and shit is that a theme on his life. he also blames himself for not being able to work out a cure - what good is fucking magic if he can’t do this? - even if he and cat do figure out ways to help, at least. but they’re just two people and creating spells isn’t easy and it’s not like their patients have a lot of time, and also he needs to sleep, as cat and dot keep reminding him. the mundanes beat him to it, and for a while he can breathe again. but then there has been so much loss and death the community is in shambles and they’ve been set back one hell of a lot, and magnus is so tired. his friends help him, reassure him that it’s not his fault, and he’s okay, because he’s stronger now, he’s been getting better during all these years and a part of him is used to it - it never hurts less, but it does get easier to push through.

and then, well, there’s the whole war against valentine thing, and then the accords, so i think for a while magnus was kind of not very involved with the mundane world, and also this is already WAY to long to get into the 2000s and shit, but i will finish by saying that maybe after a few years magnus might get somewhat involved with the community again, because i just. really like the idea of magnus joining some kind of group of bisexual men and learning that SO MANY of them have gone through abusive experiences with straight girls that are scarily similar to his experience with camille, considering, you know, all the other layers involved and the fact that it happened centuries ago. and it kind of works as group therapy, and magnus finally realises that what he went through with camille was abuse, and that he’s not alone, and that queerphobia made him vulnerable, and that the fact that he is part of so many minorities can mean that, rather than not belonging anywhere, he belongs in many places and many different spaces, and he’s helped so many people in so many different ways. and then he finds out that there are other warlocks who are working as therapists and in there he can talk about his immortality issues and, well, other issues and he starts healing faster than before - he’s been healing ever since the breakup with camille, of course, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to open up to alec. like, of course, alec and him are soulmates and shit, but if he wasn’t in a better place he wouldn’t have allowed himself to fall for him like he did. and. yeah. magnus doing therapy and getting better and finding groups where he feels like he belongs, and realising camille was an abuser, please.

#ask #cosmicnovia #luxxmagnus #sh #shadowhunters #meta #magnus bane #magnus bane meta #history tag #queer history #sh meta #overflowing trashcan

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lealina-scarsdale · 5 years

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The Unexpected Scout (The Hobbit OC Story)

Chapter 01 - A quest?

Yawning, a young woman sat upon a rock, enjoying the soft rays of sunlight tickling her pale skin. Then she started playing a little with the tips of her pure white hair that she had skillfully tied up into one single long braid, which rested onto her right shoulder. In doing so, her ruby eyes wandered over the wide open fields of wilderness that lied in front of her, admiring their beauty.

Well, it would be a wonderful sight, if it wouldn't be for the disgusting bodies of dead orcs and wargs, scattered all over the ground a few meters away from her stony seat. She sighed at that. It wasn't like she could blame anyone else besides herself for that. After all, it was all her work.

The slaughtered bodies with some of them missing a few of their body parts like heads, legs, arms, et cetera, et cetera, everything had been her own doing. But she didn't feel any sense of guilt. It had been them after all who had attacked her in the first place.

Seemingly they were some scouts in search for something or someone. The young woman let go of her braid and turned up her keen nose at the abominable smell of the corpses that excruciated her. These creatures already stank like hell when they were alive. Who could have guessed that they were able to cap that by being dead?

Well, it was already time for her to move on anyway. After stretching herself pleasurably, she hopped down from her rock and adjusted the belt of the sword on her back, making sure that it wouldn't become loose during the continuation of her journey.

As she was busy doing that, her also keen ears suddenly twitched. They looked far from humanly. More like the ones of a wild wolf and had the same light color as her hair. There was a noise of someone nearing themselves from behind her.

The woman wasn't sure if it was a friend or foe, so she kept silent and continued to check on her stuff, not wanting alarm anyone in case if she had to defend herself against them and potentially slaying them down as well just as she had done with the orcs and their wargs.

The sound of snapping branches under a pair of feet became clearer and louder with every second. She still remained calm, taking deep, inconspicuous breaths, anytime ready to unsheathe her sword. Her pure white tail, that also showed a wolfish trade and was attached to her butt, was on the verge of swaying nervously, nearly giving away her tautness.

But fortunately, the self-control over her own body didn't let her down and that made her smirk in satisfaction. All these years of mental and physical training truly paid off.

As the moves suddenly came to an end, the young woman was sure that the person was standing right behind her, only a few meters distant.

She sniffed and perked up her ears a little as she held her breath for a few seconds. It helped her to identify the figure behind her without looking at them directly. As far she could tell it was a man. An old one, but still going strong. And judging from the peaceful aura he was giving off to his surroundings he didn't come to harm her.

She also noticed that there must be magic flowing through his veins, but she couldn't tell how strong it was. Either he was trying to conceal it or he wasn't that powerful after all. It must be a wizard.

She had heard some stories about them. And in everyone, they were highly praised as wise, kindhearted, and protectors of the weak and old ones. However, as nice as that all sounded, it didn't mean that she should lower her guard until she knew this person's intentions of approaching her in the first place - wizard or not.

"May I help you? Or do you want to take root and stare holes into me, Master Wizard?", she asked, not able to suppress her curiosity any longer, and turned around.

In front of her was a man, dressed in a grey cowl and a broad-brimmed hat on top of his head, a trademark to notice that he must be a wizard indeed. He had a long beard, also colored grey, and a wooden staff in one of his hands that mostly looked like to be used more like a walking pole than for casting spells.

The old man gave her a soothing smile as she looked at him skeptically. "Great ears, remarkable olfaction, and a keen sense of auras . . . The tales of the rhenuw wur speak the truth indeed.", he said, his lips still curled upwards.

The young woman raised an eyebrow at his words. He knew what she was and even named it in Wuraurh, the secret language of her kind. There weren't many people out there in Middle Earth who were capable of that. "You know about us. And you actually managed to pronounce it in our language. I'm impressed!"

Her posture relaxed and she crossed her arms as her lips slowly formed into a grin. Now, this guy had really captured her attention. "I give you credit for that. Who are you? And what do want from me? I highly doubt that some wandering wizard would just stop to address a female in the wilderness, especially after talking to her in a few words of her native tongue."

"Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners?", the wizard said and bowed at her as he started to introduce himself. "I'm Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey. I heard about a young woman with wolfish features and pure bright hair from some townfolks. And that she's traveling through Middle-Earth all by herself, despite the current growing numbers of orcs."

He looked at the lifeless bodies of the creatures on the ground he had just named and couldn't help but chuckle. "But I see that they are no match for her fighting skills. The perfect requirement for our quest!" "A quest?", she asked and cocked her head. The events were getting more and more mysterious with every spoken word.

Gandalf noticed her looking at him with prying eyes, which pleased him. "Let me enlighten you.", he said and sat down onto the rock she had sat just a few minutes ago. The wolfish woman took a few steps closer to him but only to a certain degree.

He may not seem to be a threat to her, but you could never be careful enough around strangers – especially since nearly everything in Middle Earth could be deadly. First, she wanted to know more about this quest he had talked about and why he thought that she would be needed for it. Then she will decide if she would trust him or not.

The grey wizard took out a wooden pipe from his cowl and lightened it by using his own finger like a match. After he took the first few pulls of it in silence, he then finally began to tell her about his intentions.

He had talked a disregarded dwarven king into a journey to reclaim their long-lost home. Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, lying far behind over the Misty Mountains. Once known as the great kingdom of the dwarfish race, filled with gold and other precious jewels.

And that had exactly been the reason for its downfall. The piles of treasure had attracted a dragon, and everyone knew how much these giant saurians loved shiny objects. It had already been predestined to be taken over by one of them one day.

After that, the dwarves had been homeless but hadn't wanted to give up on hope. They had wanted to win back the lands of Moria from the orcs but had failed and it had cost them the loss of their former king, Thror, son of Dain, son of Nain.

As his son, Thrain, had taken upon the journey to get their ardently loved mountain back a 100years ago, he had gone missing, most people assuming that he must be dead as well.

And now his own son, Thorin Oakenshield, was assigned with this quest from Gandalf. Since he was the next in the royal line, it was his destiny to go onto that mission. His right to own the mountain and its treasures, sit onto that throne, and rule his kin as it should be.

And therefore he needed assistance. It was certain that no one could rival a monstrous fire-breathing lizard on their own. Furthermore, the trip was going to be a long and exhausting one – not to forget absolutely dangerous. One wrong decision could mean the end of life.

"And that is where you will play your part.", the wizard said, blowing the smoke of his pipe away as he nodded towards the female. "Every good group has a scout among them to explore the environment, find the safest path, and warning the others from approaching enemies. With your skills, it should be easy for you to perform this duty."

She took her chin between her thumb and the knuckle of her index and lowered her gaze a little as she thought about this story. It would be a lie to say that this proposal wasn't piquing her interest.

When the dwarf kingdom had fallen, the news had rapidly spread over whole Middle Earth. Even the most isolated towns had gotten to know about it. It also had been impossible for her tribe to not to hear about the disaster.

Marching through the lands with the goal of reclaiming a long lost kingdom . . . It was really tempting, despite the possible killing encounters that were lying up ahead.

Moreover, she felt really sorry for the dwarves. No one should be robbed of their rightful home. She could understand them completely. Her heart could feel their sorrow already.

And as foolish and suicidal it may sound, deep inside of her was a voice that told her to help them. Every fiber of her body was tingling with excitement and approval.

Besides, it wasn't like she had anything better to do. She was traveling the continent without a specific destination anyway. It would be a nice change to have a purpose and some company along the way.

Looking up again right at Gandalf, who had given her time for consideration, she nodded. "Very well. You have my aid. It will be my pleasure to be at help for you."

Happy about her decision, he smiled at her as he finished smoking his pipe and hid it in his clothes again – after the ashes had gone out and had removed from inside, of course.

Using his staff to get back onto his feet again, he dusted himself off as he spoke with delight: "I'm glad to hear that. And it will be a pleasure for me as well, Miss-" Just then, all of sudden, he became silent and looked at her embarrassed. He just realized that he had seriously forgotten to ask for her name.

Here he had been speaking about a big adventure, describing the whole situation as detailed as possible, and didn't even know to whom he was actually talking to. Fortunately, the female almost immediately figured out the reason behind his abrupt hush.

She let out a small laugh and introduced herself with a bow as well: "Gwen. Just call me Gwen. At your service, Master Gandalf." After that, she raised her torso again and smiled at him. "I'm looking forward to this quest. And I hope I'll be able to become a valuable part of the company."

"Believe me, my dear Gwen. You already are.", he said, smiling along with her.

//A FEW WEEKS LATER//

The soft, pleasant night breeze tickled Gwen's skin as she walked up the hills of Hobbiton. She admired the quaint, open landscape that appeared so peaceful and carefree.

There were lanterns burning in front of the small houses, illuminating the small road that led all up to the hills. In the distance, she could hear the hobbits laughing and chattering with each other. It must come from the little tavern from the other side the small lake. Apart from that, she heard the crickets chirring and saw fireflies dancing in front of her nose.

She had heard some stories about this small town of halflings but had never actually been there herself, and she had nearly been all over Middle Earth – at some places even twice or more often already. But she had to admit to her shame that she never had come here only once. She should keep in mind to visit this place anew as soon as the opportunity arose again.

Anyway, as pretty as this town was, right now she should concentrate on finding the agreed meeting point Gandalf had spoken of when he had recruited her. He had said that he would mark the door of the chosen house of the hobbit he also wanted to attend the adventure. And here she was, wandering up the hills, and looking at every single door for a little magical sign.

As she noticed that she slowly started to reach the top, and with that the end of the road, she already thought that she had missed it, but these thoughts were proofed wrong when her wolf ears picked up some loud noises of singing, hurtling dishes, and laughing. It really sounded just like a group of dwarves as they were messing up a poor hobbit's house.

Smiling and shaking her head, Gwen followed the sounds until she arrived at the last house on the hill. At the front door, she spotted a small, blue glowing rune. Now she was absolutely sure that she had found the right place.

She noticed that the commotion from inside had died down and was replaced by muttering and serious talk, all of them male voices only – not that she would have expected another female among them in addition to her.

Knocking at the door, everything inside became silent, probably wondering who might be outside. Then she heard the familiar voice of the wizard. He was chuckling and telling the others that the last member had finally been able to reach the town as well.

Someone was cursing under their breath because of that. Gwen guessed it was most likely the hobbit. Then there were footsteps and soon after the round door opened for her.

A pair of eyes looked at her dumbfounded from below. Judging from the small figure and big, hairy feet it must be the owner of the house – the hobbit in person.

To ease up the tension the atmosphere bore, she showed him a gentle smile. "I'm really sorry for the bother and my late arrival. I'm Gwen. At your service." She bowed at the still confused hobbit in front of her, who wasn't able to say one single word.

He just stared at her. Looked like he really hadn't expected a woman to show up in front of his doorstep. But before the situation could get any more awkward for him, the calm voice of the wizard sounded from behind him. "Gwen, my dear. It is good to see you again. I hope your trip here flew smoothly."

Happy to see him as well, she laughed softly: "It's good to see you too, Gandalf. I hope you guys didn't have to wait too long for me." He shook his head and urged her inside, ignoring the still bewildered host. "Not at all, my friend. The leader himself just appeared a few minutes ago. Now come on, let's go meet the others."

A little excited about that, she took off her coat and left it together with her weapons on one of the cabinets in the hallway right beside the door. She followed Gandalf through the house to the dining room, the hobbit following close behind them, who was still overstrained with the current events that were happening around him.

As they reached their destination, Gwen saw a big table in the middle of the room with 13 dwarves sitting around it. They were squeezed together because of the lack of space this room offered. They all looked as surprised as the Hobbit before when they saw her enter with their wizard. Dead silence. No one dared to say a word. They all just stared doubtfully.

Grunting at their rude behavior, Gandalf took the liberty and introduced her to them as their future scout. Looks were exchanged between the dwarves, then they shared their thoughts about it with each other – all at the same time of course.

It was hard to make out what they all were talking about due to the jumble of their voices. Even Gwen was able to catch up only a few phrases.

"A lass among us? This journey gets better and better.", a young dwarf with blond hair and braided mustache uttered and nudged another dwarf with dark hair beside him, who nodded in agreement. He also seemed young and had only stubbles on his face, which was really unlike for his kin. Both stared at her, their eyes sparkling with curiosity and interest.

A bald, rough looking dwarf just snorted: "That's not going to work. She will be dead before we even reach Bree." He eyed her with a raised eyebrow, clearly not thinking much of her.

"She is pretty . . .", another dwarf on the right side at the end of the table whispered sheepishly, appearing to be even younger as well like the other two from the beginning. He looked at her with big eyes, fascinated by her form, especially her eyes, ears, tail, and hair seemed to be the things which he took the greatest interest in.

The grey-haired dwarf right beside him looked a little taken aback, while another one with brown and complex braided hair just laughed at this shy behavior, shooting him some knowing glances.

All in all, there were mixed opinions. Not that Gwen had expected anything else. She sighed at their reactions and crossed her arms as she waited for them to calm down again. That was the moment when she noticed someone examining her very strictly.

Her eyes traveled over the table until they landed onto one specific dwarf right in front of her, who was giving her a stare. Magnificent blue eyes were peering at her dazzling rubies.

His black beard was a lot shorter compared to the others and his also black hair was long and wavy with one braid on each side, dangling over his collarbones. Only a few grey strands revealed his advanced age.

Gwen sensed the superior aura that was enveloping him. He must be the leader of this whole project – Thorin Oakenshield, rightful heir of the throne of Erebor. There were a lot of stories about him, but Gwen had never thought that she would ever be able to meet him in person. She had to admit, it was an honor for her.

But he also didn't look really stoked about this whole thing. After a long time of gazing and quietness, he finally tore his eyes away from her and turned to Gandalf. "What is the meaning of this? Why do you think a woman could be useful? She looks like she would break her bones as soon as she stumbles over a rock or a root.", he stated, referring at her delicate figure.

Gwen looked at him silently, showing no huffy reaction because of that. She was used to treatments like this. No one ever took her seriously and doubted her skills until she proved them wrong. Getting easily upset about it was something she already stopped a long time ago.

Instead, she always looked forward to seeing the shocked and unbelievingly facial expressions she earned as soon as they had gotten to see her fighting.

Oh, how much she was going to love to see that on this dwarf's face as well. She smirked at her own thoughts and peered at Gandalf, who was surprised that she didn't seem offended by the harsh words.

Then he turned to Thorin, smiling benignly at him for his statement. "I advise you not to underestimate her. Miss Gwen travels through Middle Earth for a long time already, and all by herself. She has been at far more places than all of you had ever been in total, so she potentially knows a few more paths which are not marked on a map. And if she would really be so frail as you think, then she would have never been able to reach Hobbiton in one piece. After all, the last time I saw her was very close to the northern mountain range of the Misty Mountains."

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Chapter 02 >>

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eurosong · 5 years

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2018 vs 2019: Semi-final 1

Hey there, folks! Every year after the national final season is over, one of the first things I write about Eurovision is a comparison of the new year’s songs with those of the previous year. Often it gets folk unfollowing the blog even though it’s almost entirely posts about ESC statistics and only a relatively small amount on rating the songs here. These are just my thoughts and no offence intended to anyone who thinks otherwise. Without further ado, click below to take a look at my thoughts on semi-final one!

◯ Australia – 2019 – Last year, Oz sent “We got love” (or “We got l’œuf” as I renamed it), which was a dizzying collection of clichés, got a mediocre placement and might well have been the impetus for them finally biting the bullet and getting the punters involved in the thitherto long mooted national final. This decision might not benefit their chances of keeping up their qualification record in the long run – but it means, for once, that Australia can move outside a narrow box musically and send things that would never be picked by internal selectors. “Zero gravity” was a less astute choice than “2000 & Whatever” would have been, I feel – it sounds to be like something that people think is so Eurovision who haven’t seen it in some time. Nonetheless, homegirl has pipes, the tune is quite catchy and it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than last year’s song.

◯ Belarus – 2018 – whilst I’ll be talking about 2018 vs 2019, I have to take a quick detour almost right away to 2017. It was the first time that Belarus managed to sustain my interest and get into my personal top 10 since their début, and they did so by going authentic and finally showing some love for their national language on the ESC stage. One year later, and I certainly wasn’t enthused by a carpetbagging victory of a non-local singing a rather ordinary song in English or some approximation thereof.

And yet, “Forever” and its earnest performer grew on me, especially the strange dissonance between the hopeful lyrics and the very melancholy music. After a similar number of repeated listens, “Like it” has not sparked even the briefest flame. Musically, this starts off with an inoffensive if very 2005 Spanish guitar riff, arrives at a decent-ish bridge and then throws itself off it head first into an absolutely dreadful thumping, repetitive chorus which is reprised way too much in the rest of the song. Lyrically, they put about as much effort into the words as they did into the “screensaver with default font” they were using as a background as Zena performed. She repeats “yes, you’re gunna like it” 40 times in the space of 3 minutes – one every 4.5 seconds. Maybe she’s trying to psychologically condition us, but no, Zena, I ent gunna like it at all. In a delicious bit of irony, it’s also at time of writing the least “liked” ESC ’19 song on Youtube. Strong preference to 2018.

◯ Belgium – 2019 – It can be difficult for a country to come back after a peak moment for them with something equally good that also manages to win over the fans and juries. We’ve seen it in Latvia after “Love injected”, in Estonia after “Goodbye to yesterday” and I think we’re seeing it once again with Belgium after “City lights”. Neither this year’s song nor last’s comes anywhere near the anthemic, emotional power of Blanche’s song. Both are nice enough, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Eliot struggled much as Sennek did last year. I give it a slight preference, but both songs are really let down, I feel, by choruses that don’t pay off the drama built in the verses.

◯ Cyprus – Neither – I try to limit myself to as few “neither” choices as possible in these games because the fun is in having to choose, sometimes, between two difficult options. Nonetheless, I abhorred “Fuego” in every conceivable way and this aptly-named “replay” offers little different to those who weren’t fans of it. If I had to pick, I’d go with 2018, because at least it doesn’t have the sadness of attempting to catch lightning twice in the same jar attached to it.

◯ Czechia – 2019 – Two years, two rather uncomfortable entries from the Czechs in a row. Last year, we had a predatory “Blurred lines” light, while this year, whilst less lyrically degrading, still has weird lines about eavesdropping on people having sex through the walls(?)… but it’s enough to secure a slight preference.

◯ Estonia – 2018 – It seems like such a long time has passed since the days when I consistently found Eesti Beesti, since those days when Eesti Laul seemed experimental and had a decent number of songs in their native language. I’m no fan of popera, but at least Elina was a local talent. It’s bewildering when a country with so many great artists can’t find someone with any real association with it to sing for them. Though both are ultimately derivative, I prefer La forza to what is essentially an aviici b-side.

◯ Finland– 2018 – I have a pet peeve for national finals where you are presented with a single choice of artist. Unless said artist is very versatile (say, Frances Ruffelle, who took on dark pop, ballads and gospel-tinged anthems in her solo national final back in 1994), you are restricted to a narrow set of genres. If you don’t like that artist or their style, then you’re shit out of luck. That’s been the case for the last few years with Saara Aalto and now Darude. I didn’t really like ány of either’s songs and miss the days of a diverse choice in UMK. I pick Saara because her throwback was slightly more tolerable.

◯ Georgia– 2018 – Fair play to Georgia, who always dance to the beat of their very own peculiar drummer. You’d think that the shift to the X Factor format to pick their representative, combined with the cold reception for their “ethno-jazz” last year, would have led to them playing it safe to try to avoid three DNQs in a row. Instead they’ve gone for something downbeat, angry and almost oppressive in its ambiance, i.e. something even less accessible to the general viewer than last year. This feels like the rock song equivalent to a war crimes tribunal. I preferred last year’s effort, which was rather more uplifting, and which I felt was unfairly underrated for a genuinely well-composed piece of music steeped in tradition.

◯ Greece – 2019 – A number of people around me were raving for Oneiro mou last year. I wasn’t one of them and suspected it would fail to qualify from the get-go. Instead of “Greece returning to form”, it felt like them attempting to do so but ending up with a nationalistic pastiche instead. This year, they’ve taken their usual mould and smashed it with a hammer, going in a very different direction with a delightfully husky-voiced singer and a musically anthemic piece that manages to compensate, for me, the song’s lyrical shortcomings. I enjoy it a fair bit more.

◯ Hungary – 2018 – This is one of the hardest ones of this semi final to choose, as “Viszlát nyar” and “Az én apam” are chalk and cheese, but both highly qualitative and with meaningful lyrics. Joci’s other ESC song, Origo, beat Viszlát nyar for me, but his 2019 effort doesn’t have quite the same visceral punch to it, so I think I’m going to have to give the edge to AWS this time around.

◯ Iceland – 2019 – Another country giving us night and day, but this time, I like neither of the two choices. Last year certainly put the “cheese” in the old “chalk and cheese” saying, an unbelievably overwrought and soppy Christmas charity-esque tune that somehow ended up at ESC. This year, it’s something rather acerbic, dingy, grating and ultimately gimmicky. In these times, “hate will prevail” is the last message we need. I will take it over Ari any day though, as that was just squirmworthy.

◯ Montenegro – 2018 – It seemed that, last year, Montenegro was back to doing what it has always done best – a haunting, beautiful Balkan ballad after a few bizarre years of experiments gone wrong. Unfortunately, Inje got slept on despite its quality and couldn’t bring about an end to CG’s DNQ streak. There were many candidates in this year’s Montevizija that could have gone one better and done just that – but instead, bewilderingly, we got this unspeakable jumble which sounds like it was a rejected b-side for a mediocre mid-90s boy band, but with the addition of Random Casio Noises® in the background. Comparing Inje to it is likening fine wine to a bottle of Panda Cola that has been left with the cap off in the sun for 2 weeks.

◯ Poland – 2019 – Last year, Poland sent a middle-aged man in a hat doing a cringey snake dance whilst a young, inexplicably Swedish guy sort of sang and the whole thing sounded like the soundtrack for a Coke advert gone wrong. This year, they’ve got some women swaying like maniacs in a forest where they probably buried their patriarch. Not much of a step up in theory, but a big step up nonetheless…

◯ Portugal– 2019 – Portugal is a country that could have peaked with their first win, or fallen into a niche in a sad attempt (*cough* Cyprus *cough*) to recapture that glory. Instead, they are challenging all the tropes and have a national final with some serious diversity. I loved “O jardim” and it deserved way better, but this year’s song, “Telemóveis”, exceeds even that. It’s a haunting but catchy as hell rumination on mortality, technology and saudade with a musical backdrop whose influences transcend continents. If it’s not in the running to win the whole thing, I will be disappointed.

◯ San Marino – 2018 – I cannot get my head around the enthusiasm for “Say na na na”, which seems to have been contracted not only by postmodern pisstakers but by many folk who genuinely like it. It makes me cringe 10x more than Jenny B’s not quite sick rap skills last year, and that’s saying something. Plus, they had robots.

◯ Serbia – 2019 – They seemed like really nice people, but I found last year’s Serbian entry itself to be a bit of a minestrone into which a dozen elements of other songs were chucked in, and thus was lacking a bit in coherence. “Kruna”, on the other hand, is perfectly-formed, poignant, beautifully orchestrated and one of the best Balkan ballads in the past few years.

◯ Slovenia – 2018 – Fair play to Slovenia for picking themselves up and dusting themselves off after a few rough years. Hvala ne was backed by almost no one to qualify but I had faith in it early on and Lea benefited from being able to make a real connection with the crowds. Sebi is a very different beast entirely. Whilst Hvala ne had a defiance and a frenetic energy, Sebi is contemplative and melancholy. Both have great lyrics, too. I am going with Slovenia at the minute as it’s stood the test of time, but really the better of the two songs is really a question of mood.

And the automatic qualifiers of this semi-final:

◯ France – 2018 – It’s a battle between two songs written by the same writers, and since I loved their 2018 work, their follow-up should have a chance of making this a closely-run thing. Shóúld. Instead, they went from writing an understated song about humanity to writing an overbearingly pompous and self-important song about ego. This is the worst French song to me since 1988.

◯ Israel – 2018 – I wonder if Israel’s broadcasters remember how their predecessor, the IBU, won on home soil in 1979. I have the feeling they might well do, and as a result ensured it wouldn’t happen again with this song. There are elements of the song I really like, but it’s let down for me by a snivelly, exaggerated voice and a rather self-indulgent chorus. I was no great fan of “Toy”, but can listen to it with more pleasure than this.

◯ Spain – 2018 – I remember when “Tu canción" came out and I was completely in love with it. The unfortunate thing about songs sung by starry-eyed young loves is that their relationships often end up star-crossed. Now, Almaia is no more, and the song has a hugely bitter aftertaste. Nonetheless, I prefer it to La venda, which is a rather empty song lyrically but which I still found the best of a bad lot in the Spanish national final.

Coming up in the next instalment, my thoughts on SF2’s songs and how they shape up to those from last year!

#eurovision #esc 2019 #opinion #esc #eurovision 2019 #eurovision song contest

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ayearofpike · 6 years

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Spooksville #5: The Cold People

Pocket Books, 1996 118 pages, 12 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-55064-0 LOC: CPB Box no. 308 vol. 6 OCLC: 34048131 Released February 1, 1996 (per B&N)

Not long after the freak heat wave, it is weirdly below freezing in July. The Spook Squad isn’t gonna let a chilly day deter them from exploring, though, and neither is finding ice coffins in the woods. But when they thaw out, it turns out the corpses inside aren’t actually dead, and they start turning everyone in Spooksville into ice zombies. There’s only one way to stop them: fire. But how will the kids ever produce enough?

Spoilers: He fuckin’ wrote Monster again. (You thought I was gonna say The Cold One II again, didn’t you?) I mean, the reason for the ice coffins is left unresolved, and the kids acknowledge it, but ... you know what, we’ll get to the rest of it.

One more quick side note: this is the first Spooksville cover that has nothing to do with direct events in the book. We see Cold People dragging humans out of their houses, but from outside and not the perspective of being there when they come ringing. I’m not even sure who this little twerp is supposed to be, because Adam has dark hair and Watch has glasses. So at least they got that right, that neither of them would have been in such a position.

Our intrepid heroes find these mysterious blue ice blocks in the thickest part of the woods, on a day that for some reason is below freezing at I assume 10 am. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m staying inside when it’s cold, because ... well, it’s cold, goddammit. But these kids go out, even Sally, who is a native and probably doesn’t even OWN a jacket. Like, the thing about coastal California is it stays pretty much the same temperature all year, so the locals don’t expect much fluctuation. I have a really hard time imagining a local wanting to brave the cold, but then again, if we’ve learned anything about Sally it’s that she’s not cowed by anything.

But the ice blocks. Watch wants to thaw one out, because science. So they start a campfire, and pretty soon there’s a blue hand and arm exposed. Obviously it couldn’t belong to a live person, right? Except it suddenly grabs Watch, and then the rest of the ice block explodes to reveal a cold blue man with cold blue eyes. Watch is already shivering just from being held, and he yells to his friends to try to attack with fire. But before they can retrieve Watch, the cold blue man carries him off into the forest, faster than they can follow, faster than they thought a person could move.

So now what? If there’s weird shit happening and no way to track down the source, who do you talk to? Yep, the friends go find Bum. He tells them a story of the lost continents of Atlantis and Lemuria, populated by ancient aliens and devastated by war with each other. But as it turns out, one sect of the aliens wanted the Atlanteans wiped out, and persuaded the Lemurians to use extreme prejudice in exchange for eternal life. So the Lemurians put rockets on an asteroid and aimed it at Atlantis, and in return the aliens took some of the leaders and replaced their blood with Cryo, a freezing material that preserves the body and even boosts speed and strength — but at the expense of the soul. You spend the rest of your non-life in your mobile body resenting warm people and preparing to kill them, or at least make them like you. They went to the North Pole to wait out the asteroid fallout, but now it seems these Cryo Creatures have returned.

You can beat them with fire, Bum knows, and there’s no better fire weapon than a flamethrower. Fortunately, the freaky militia man who runs the army surplus store has a couple. While they’re buying them, the Cold People show up and surround the place. Freaky Militia Man goes outside with his guns, and, well, you can’t shoot ice and expect it to do anything. So the good guys barricade themselves inside the store and have to figure out what to do next.

As it happens, there are two hot-air balloons in the back of the store, so three twelve-year-olds and a homeless man haul them up the stairs onto the roof. And right here is where I disconnect from this story. I have spent a LOT of time around hot-air balloons. In fact, I was at the world’s largest balloon rally this weekend. And there’s no way these people can safely and accurately fly balloons around Spooksville the way it’s described. Hell, I don’t think Pike actually did much research into it. Like, it was necessary to the story, so sure, they fly balloons. Please watch for my all-caps incredulity at untrained super pilots.

Sally and Bum set up the two balloons — ONE EACH, BY THEMSELVES — while Adam and Cindy guard the store. Adam happens to see a box of dynamite and carries it upstairs, to load on board just in case it’s useful. While he’s up there, though, four Cold People have pried open the barred door and are getting in. Cindy can’t bring herself to set a human-looking being on fire, so Adam has to ward them off as they race inside. Cindy gets up the stairs, and Adam has a little grappling match with a hand on his ankle, which grips tightly enough to break the skin, before he shoots the fire just right and literally melts the Cold Person’s head. Of course, this little blast of fire catches more in the shop, and remember this is an ammunition warehouse. The four friends are just clear of the roof when the whole thing blows up.

Of course they didn’t get all the Cold People with one shot. Most of them are rampaging around town, going after all those warm assholes. But what else is to be done? Even the witch, Ann Templeton, is stuck inside her castle, with the drawbridge up, shooting flames out the tower window, so she can’t help. And Adam’s ankle is starting to go numb. But they spot Watch in the cemetery, looking lost, and they decide to take the risk and try to save him, even if he’s already been turned. Of course he has, but Bum manages to pin him down with the flamethrower long enough for Sally to whack him over the head with a stick and knock him out. They make it back to the balloon ahead of the other Cold People, despite Adam’s rapidly freezing leg —

but now what? They can’t just float around forever; eventually they’re GONNA RUN OUT OF PROPANE even though Pike never says this. And anyway, the Cold People are going to realize that there’s a whole world of warm humans to turn sooner or later. If only the witch could have helped them! And suddenly Adam remembers one of Sally’s grousing points about Ann Templeton: her lack of care for the environment. Apparently she’s drilled several oil wells on the hill above the reservoir. Adam remembers the underground streams, and realizes that if he can get enough oil flowing through the water that runs under the town, maybe he’ll be able to warm the temperature of all of Spooksville. What good will that do? Well, he expects that the Cold People need cold temperatures to be able to maintain their bodies. After all, they supposedly went to the North Pole during the war, and it was this sudden cold snap that presaged their appearance. If it warms up, hopefully they’ll all melt.

So that’s the plan, officially: crack the lines from the oil wells so crude flows into the town’s water supply, and then set the whole thing on fire. And the hero of the story is slowly turning into one of the bad guys while he plans this. Do you see Monster yet?

The kids land their balloon SQUARE ON THE TOP OF A TRUCK and LIGHT THE BASKET ON FIRE BUT SLOWLY CLIMB OUT BEFORE IT FLIES AWAY. Of course Sally knows how to hotwire a truck, and they drive it up to the reservoir and prepare to flood it with Texas tea. Adam’s leg is totally numb now — and his whole body is slowly getting colder, and he’s slowly starting to resent Sally more and more, and he knows they don’t have much time before he turns on her. But the cold in his veins gives him enough intellect to advise on the best way to blow up the oil tanks without making them explode, just enough to open a hole. Unfortunately, as she’s setting it up, Watch wakes up and goes after her. She doesn’t have enough gas in her flamethrower to get him and the dynamite both, so she blows the lines and runs for it, leaping into the reservoir itself to keep some distance from a newly-turned Cold Person who for some reason doesn’t want to get wet. And this is the moment Adam’s been waiting for, as the oil sinks down and starts flowing through the town ... but Sally’s in the water, and if he lights the oil, she’ll fry.

Cindy and Bum to the rescue! While the other kids stole the truck, they LANDED ON A HARDWARE STORE ROOF and busted in to swipe a fan and a generator. Cindy had to overcome her flamethrower-averseness to save Bum from a random Chilly in the store, but once they were back to the balloon they RIGGED THE FAN SO THEY COULD FLY IN ANY DIRECTION THEY WANTED, NEVER MIND THAT THE WIND IS PUSHING ON THE WHOLE ENVELOPE OF THE BALLOON AND THEY’RE USING A FUCKING HOUSEHOLD FAN. Then they STEERED THE BALLOON TO THE RESERVOIR and SWOOPED DOWN TO THE SURFACE to grab Sally somehow, even though there’s NO WAY Cindy has an arm long enough to REACH DOWN FROM THE TOP OF THE GONDOLA TO GRAB ANOTHER ARM STICKING OUT OF THE WATER.

But now Adam can light a stick of dynamite that catches all of the oil and heats up the town. And all the original Cold People melt, and all the new Cold People warm up enough to go back to normal, I guess because the cold wasn’t too invasive yet. But we still have our question: how did they get here? I guess that’s got to be answered another time, because Pike is out of pages.

I can’t get too mad at the Monster rehash here. Like, this is four years later and aimed at a different audience, and the rationale for filling the reservoir with oil is just different enough that I’m willing to let it slide. I’m not mad at the cover, really, either, because there’s not quite a bookstore-safe way to represent kidnapping and zombification and blowing shit up. I’m not even mad that we don’t get to learn what the hell Kalika is going to do when she gets big and realizes her undead dad gave her death powers. I am mad at the impossible hot-air balloon acrobatics, but again, I’ll admit that I’m closer to that than a lot of people. But overall, The Cold People is the first Spooksville that I’ve been ... er ... less than warm on.

#spookstober #spooksville

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newstfionline · 6 years

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Would You Let Your Boss Put a Chip in Your Body?

Guy Clapperton, Medium, Jul 16, 2018

Dave Coplin is trying to explain to me why people across two continents are suddenly allowing their employers to put microchips under their skin.

“I do this to my dog--why wouldn’t I do it to myself?” Coplin says. I’m not convinced, so he launches into an anecdote about a club on the Mediterranean party island of Ibiza where people could chip themselves and then use the chip to buy drinks. Coplin suspects this was because they weren’t wearing many clothes.

But chipping yourself because you’re half-naked and don’t have a pocket for your wallet is very different from allowing your employer to chip you. So, how did we get here?

Coplin, who heads a consultancy called the Envisioners, says there are real benefits for both employer and employee--if we can only get over our squeamishness. “If it adds value, I’m all for it,” he says. “Today we look at people doing it and it feels a bit weird, but in reality there is something inevitable about it.”

Patrick McMullan is president of Three Square Market in Wisconsin. After following experiments at Swedish incubator Epicenter in Stockholm, which has been experimenting with chipping since 2015, his company decided to develop the technology further. Naturally, as a supplier and a developer, McMullan has a chip implant himself--one roughly the size of a grain of rice implanted under the skin between his thumb and index finger. It’s based on near-field communication (NFC) technology--the same chips that are used in contactless credit cards or mobile payments. Implants are done quickly and simply with a syringe and very little blood.

One current limitation, McMullan says, is that because the chip is a passive device, there is no way it can be tracked. For now, that means the chip is for accessing the building, logging into computers, and paying for things from the canteen. But McMullan’s employees are on a mission “to change the world,” he says, and more than 70 of them so far have volunteered to be part of the experiment.

The idea seems to be spreading. In addition to Three Square Market, at least 160 people have been chipped at Epicenter’s monthly “chipping parties.” Several staff members at CityWatcher.com, a surveillance company in Cincinnati, have gotten chips, as have some at a digital marketing company in Belgium called NewFusion. No doubt it’s good publicity, but chipping advocates genuinely believe this will become common practice over the next decade.

Chips will offer more benefits as the technology progresses, McMullan believes. “We are developing medical uses that will monitor vital signs. Doctors will be able to proactively treat patients rather than always react,” he says. McMullan believes the numbers of chipped employees worldwide will reach millions over a few years because the benefits of a sub-$100 chip are potentially huge.

McMullan sees no downside, despite obvious concerns that it feels perfectly dystopian to be intimately connected to your employer in a way that is hard to control or remove. Take his own idea of chips monitoring people’s health: There is obvious advantage in future embedded technologies that could monitor cholesterol, blood sugar levels, or even just dehydration.

But what if someone had a chip to monitor alcohol intake as part of an agreement to quit? Would a surgeon be allowed to refuse to operate? Could an insurance company hike the patient’s premiums if they fell off the wagon? The question of what information could or should be gathered and where it could or should go will become far more complex as chips become more advanced and more widespread. And other experts have raised concerns about hacking, as well as known health problems already associated with similar chips used in pets.

“Obviously, privacy is a massive concern,” Coplin adds. “What will people do with the data? Who’s going to see it? In practical terms, it’s bad enough that I have to carry my phone around with me, and my wallet. If this gets around some of that, I’m up for it.”

Despite the concerns, many people seem to accept it’s going to happen--and quite rapidly. Lynda Shaw, PhD, a cognitive neuroscientist and author of Your Brain Is Boss, believes chipping is a natural progression that is likely to be more acceptable to young people.

In some ways, this is already an established technology, at least among people with health problems. We already use chips for cochlear implants and even for bypassing parts of the brain in the event of brain damage, Shaw points out. “Chipping the human body is not news, but there’s always the sinister side of us that says this is a bit too Orwellian,” she says. People might become worried about computer viruses living in their bodies or about what happens when and if the hardware becomes corrupted.

Rohit Talwar, futurist and CEO of the think tank Fast Future, sees chipping becoming widespread very quickly, particularly among tech companies that want to demonstrate they are forward thinking.

Chipping will also be used, Talwar says, among companies “who want very high security so people don’t get into systems or part of the building they shouldn’t, and who want to demonstrate to clients that they’re cutting edge in security terms. You might also see it being used as a way of enabling people to exchange money in canteens, vending machines--it will get rid of identity passes.”

Shaw sees benefits as well. If someone is ill and has a pacemaker or uses anticoagulant medication, making that information available with a quick scan could save their life. But she also points to darker implications for crime scenes. In regions where the crime rate is high and bodies turn up dismembered, Shaw notes that a criminal wouldn’t need the whole body to breach security, just the limb in which a chip had been embedded. “You could end up inadvertently inciting a more horrible crime than the one originally being contemplated,” she says.

Talwar’s view is that dystopia is in the eye of the beholder. A generation born as digital natives might see this as a natural evolution and plastic passes as old-fashioned, arcane, and certainly not able to capture the kind of information that a chip inside our bodies could capture about, say, health.

“Older generations may see this as terribly invasive,” Talwar says. “I was at an event last year where they were chipping people just for fun, and the lines were going down the corridor of people waiting to be chipped--for the story and for the experience.”

So, where is chipping going? Talwar sees it as part of an inevitable process in which those who are pioneers have said for some time that if humans are going to keep up with artificial intelligence, we will have to enhance our brains and bodies.

“This is just the start point of that process. You could easily predict your mobile phone memory being inserted into you, chips to accelerate your memory and your brain,” Talwar says. “We could see a massive acceleration in this as we move into enhancing and augmenting ourselves and stepping into the world of transhumanism.”

Coplin sees chipping as part of a dialogue about how we relate to machines. He notes that one man in Australia who tried removing the chip from a travel card and embedding it in his hand failed because the terms and conditions said not to deface the card. “At the moment, it feels weird,” Coplin says, “but at the moment, I might have a device on my wrist that might have that technology. Why not a little further under my skin?”

Society has always contested the potential of technology and the changes it forces. A quarter-century ago, few people predicted the advent of mobile phones--fewer still anticipated that we’d use them as cameras and music centers. And now there are additional pressures on technologies.

“We’ve really lost trust with the people who handle our data--the banks, the Googles, the Facebooks,” Coplin says. “Until that trust is won back, we’re going to be very fearful of this kind of thing. And I think that’s a real shame because of the benefits we could have.”

#chip implants #microchips #chipping

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mst3kproject · 6 years

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Gamera vs Jiger (1970)

That’s right, Hollywood After Dark was actually so fucking depressing I decided the only thing that could cheer me up was a Gamera movie – and lo! When I typed our sabre-toothed saviour’s name into YouTube, up pops this film, which I’d never seen! Gamera vs Jiger was directed by Noriaki Yuasa, who brought us the other Gamera films, and features a really annoying noise and some even more annoying little kids!

The city of Osaka is getting ready to host some kind of world’s fair. Young Hiroshi is particularly eager to see it, as is his American friend Tommy, because their families are both intimately involved with the preparations. Hiroshi’s father, an inventor, is building mini-submarines for one exhibit, while Tommy’s, an archaeologist, is bringing in a mysterious stone statue all the way from Wester Island in the Pacific. The statue is called The Devil’s Whistle and the natives don’t want to let it go, because a legend says it’s the only thing keeping away something called Jiger. Boy, I bet that won’t come back to bite anybody in the ass, will it?

Turns out the reason the statue is called the Devil’s Whistle is because when wind blows over the hole in its top, it makes a really, really annoying sound that drives everybody insane – the crew of the ship transporting it, the audience, and a weird warthog-dinosaur-looking creature. Sure enough, this is Jiger, who sets out to destroy the statue and anything else it might happen to come across. Looks like a job for Gamera to me!

Now, the formula for these movies is to have Gamera get injured in an early fight, so that the people of Japan have to try to take on the monster themselves. They then fail, and Gamera miraculously returns, summoned by the whining of bratty children in tiny shorts, to save the day! That’s what happens here, too. So how does Gamera lose his first face-off against Jiger? Is he frozen, like he was by Barugon? Held at bay by a threat to children, like he was by Viras? Beat up and forced to retreat to the water to heal, like by Guiron or Gyaos?

Hell no! Jiger is much more creative. The first time the two monsters fight, Jiger fires quills into Gamera’s arms and legs so he can’t pull them into his shell and fly away, then rolls him over on his back and leaves him on a rocky island to starve to death! Then we have to watch Gamera try to flip himself over again using his tail, screeching out in pain the entire time, and it truly is the sorriest I’ve ever felt for him. Then at their second encounter, Jiger stabs Gamera in the shoulder with some kind of stinger, and Gamera staggers off in agony. There’s then this bizarre sequence where the kids take one of those tiny submarines down Gamera’s esophagus and find that Jiger has implanted a fucking embryo in his chest which is now devouring him from the inside out like one of those creepy spider wasps! Holy shit! Since when did Gamera do body horror?

Gamera spends so much of this movie in obvious pain, I think it would probably be rather distressing for a child to watch. The part where the embryo is growing inside him, and Gamera turns white with his skeleton briefly visible before his glowing eyes go out, actually distressed me and I’m in my thirties. I think this might be the only time I’ve actually seen the children in one of these movies give up on Gamera in what sounds like honest despair, when Hiroshi declares, “oh, he’s dead!” It feels weird to talk about a Gamera movie being dark, but this one gets there.

After the ridiculousness of Gamera vs Guiron, Gamera vs Jiger represents the series trying to regain some of its self-respect and the respect of its audiences (as demonstrated by the fact that the next installment was Gamera vs Zigra, it didn’t work). The dark content is probably an intentional part of this, and it sits a little uneasily alongside the cheerful absurdity that naturally comes of this being a Gamera movie. Sometimes it kind of works, but more often it really doesn’t. The miniatures and matte paintings are as terrible as anything in Mighty Jack or, for that matter, in previous Gamera films. The music includes classics like We’re Gonna Ride our Bicycles and of course the immortal Love Theme from Gamera, sung by a chorus of slightly tone-deaf grade-schoolers. The pun ‘Wester Island’ is kind of awe-inspiring in its sheer lameness, and the dialogue includes technical language like ‘it’s based on super-ultra-violent waves!’ The foleyed-in footsteps sound like all the actors are wearing tap shoes. The dubbing sucks. The dubbing of the children, particularly Tommy’s little sister Susan, is so terrible it actually manages to suck and blow at the same time.

My favourite nugget of silliness is the scene in which one of the scientists shows a slide of an x-ray of Gamera. How the fuck do you x-ray Gamera?! Imagine the host sketch in which Joel and the bots try to figure it out!

But Gamera movies, like all kaiju eiga, live and die by their monsters and the fighting between them. The Gamera of Gamera vs Jiger looks as dumb and rubbery as he ever did (I’m particularly fond of his belly-flop landings), but Jiger is actually pretty cool and mean-looking, with a surprisingly plausible quadrupedal gait – while Guiron always looked like a guy crawling around in a rubber costume, Jiger actually moves like a four-legged animal and I can only attribute this to a very gifted suit-maker. Some of Jiger’s powers, like its quill-shooting, are quite interesting and scary. Others, like its ability to fly by shooting steam out of its ears, are laugh-out-loud stupid.

The fights themselves are kind of interesting in that they are battles of wits, as well as monster fights. Both Gamera and Jiger are depicted as observing their enemy and learning from what they see. In the first fight, Gamera learns that Jiger will try to wrap its tail around his neck, and pulls his head into his shell at the last minute. Jiger learns that Gamera must retract his limbs in order to fly, and uses the quills to prevent this. The fact that both combatants are intelligent ups the ante quite a bit, without giving them the childlike human motivations that turned the monsters of Godzilla vs Megalon into cartoon characters. The brutality I mentioned continues into the final fight, culminating in Gamera impaling Jiger in the face with the statue that started the whole thing!

Just as often, of course, the fights are ridiculous. There is a bit where Gamera throws Jiger up in the air, but Jiger lands on the other end of the fallen tower Gamera is standing on, launching him into some buildings in turn like something out of a kaiju-fueled Rube Goldberg machine.

The setpiece sequence of the film, and the one that sets it apart from any other Gamera movie, is the Fantastic Voyage bit where the two boys go inside him with the submarine to remove the Jiger embryo. Fantastic Voyage was made in 1966, so I suspect it was indeed the inspiration. Unfortunately, Gamera’s innards are not nearly as cool as anything in the earlier film – and in retrospect, Fantastic Voyage doesn’t even look that cool anymore. Instead, the baby Jiger chases the kids around on an obvious stage set, among tunnels that aren’t nearly gooey enough to be something’s anatomy. The inside of Gamera’s lungs are made of inflated plastic bags with some algae inside them, and seeing the Jiger suit at its actual size is laughable. For all that, though, the sequence is sometimes pretty tense, and when it fails at that it’s at least amusing.

I do like Gamera movies in general. I mean, yeah, they’re not very good, they’re not particularly meaningful and they’re not gonna win any awards, but they’re fun to watch, fun to write about, and fun to heckle with friends. I’d even say that Gamera vs Jiger is one of the better ones. It doesn’t have the annoyingly irrelevant moral of Gamera vs Zigra, and a lot more money, effort, and creativity went into it than that movie or Gamera vs Guiron. It helps a lot that the kids here are a little older – Hiroshi and Tommy are specifically described as being twelve years old, instead of the five or six-year-old Kenny and Helen from Zigra. The kids do keep ending up in places they don’t belong but for once the adults respond fairly realistically to this.

In reviewing Gamera vs Barugon I noted that insofar as Gamera symbolizes anything, it’s probably childlike faith in good overcoming evil. Apparently I was right, because that is explicitly stated in the closing scene of Gamera vs Jiger – the adults admit that Hiroshi and Tommy were right about Gamera being the hero Japan needs, and that they should have believed in him. This is still a weird attitude to take towards a giant monster that wrecks almost as much shit as Jiger does, but I guess that’s just something you have to accept about kaiju eiga. There’s also some attempt at a statement with the world’s fair setting, in that what Gamera has saved is a place where all humanity can come together to learn from each other. Gamera movies do seem to be basically optimistic in outlook, positing that humans are basically good and higher forces are looking out for us, and that’s probably one of the things I like about them.

As one final note, the movie claims that ‘Wester Island’ is the last remaining bit of the lost continent of Mu. Godzilla vs Megalon did something similar with Easter Island and ‘Seatopia’, and was made only three years later… did one inspire another, or were Easter Island and Lost Continents just big things in Japan in the early 70’s? If the former, that represents a rather curious inversion: Gamera began his life as a ripoff of Godzilla, but many years later we find Godzilla movies stealing ideas from Gamera instead!

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #gamera vs jiger #70s #antiimperialist kaiju

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