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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Embers- (1)

warnings: suggestive, future smut, themes of death

wc: 5.3k

teaser

White specks of paint, scattered across an inky sky - they truly were beautiful. You adjusted yourself on the grassy hill, eyes closing as you tried to calm your nerves. Sighing, you ran your hand over crimson scales, trying to ignore the blinding lights of your village in the distance.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

You wished you could stay here forever. Where the only sounds that grace your ears are the deep rumbling snores of the enormous draconian creature you're curled up against. It's a comforting sound, and yet you knew you were going to have to leave soon. Your father would be absolutely enraged if you were late to such an important event- in fact, you were sure he’d have absolutely no qualms killing you in front of the entire village and crowning a broomstick as his heir instead.

Perhaps that's why you delayed the inevitable for a little longer, nuzzling your head against the dragon's hide. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you observed your bustling village from above, frantically getting ready for the festival and the welcoming. People were decorating their houses, painting murals onto their walls and making sure everything was perfect for the guests that would arrive tonight.

The streets were lit up with lanterns, and the people milling about outside their houses were dressed up in their best. The excitement in the atmosphere was palpable, and you could almost feel it from atop the hill.

Sighing, you looked to the side, your eyes meeting enormous yellow ones.

“Aeracus...I know what you’re thinking.” You sighed and curled up your knees to your chest. “And you’re right. I’m nervous, but also excited. I can’t believe we’re going to be seeing him again after all these years. Can you?”

The dragon slowly shook his head from side to side, and you chuckled. “Do you think he’s changed? Or do you think he’s still a feline-obsessed asshole?” You smiled, his laughter ringing in your ears as you reminisced.

Slowly though, the good memories bled into terrible ones. Loss and pain, mingling in your heart and taking over your emotions. The smile disappeared from your face as you remembered what had happened. The reason he left. The reason you weren’t allowed to participate in the championships that were to be a part of the festival’s celebrations...the reason the whole village considered you an outcast, despite being the chief’s daughter.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing your hair back as you slowly stood up, dusting off your tunic. You pressed a kiss to the dragon’s neck, sighing.

“I’m going to go, Aeracus. Honestly, you should be grateful you don’t have to partake in these events.”

The dragon let out a disapproving rumble at that, and your face softened. That was a low blow. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he was forced to to refrain from joining his fellow dragons in the games. No, the blame was to be shared between you and Minho.

The felicity in your heart was intertwined with a faint sense of lingering sorrow. It happened so many years ago, and yet the echoes were still fresh in your mind...

You couldn’t deny that you were desperate to see him again. In fact, saying you were desperate would probably be an understatement. You were thrilled, electrified- and yet, oh so anxious.

You clenched your fists, taking in a deep breath and starting to descend the hill. You’d put it off for long enough.

***

“Children, listen carefully, now.”

The boy next to you didn’t heed the elder’s warning, continuing to draw on the back of his hand.

“Minho! Pay attention, or I will have to call your father.”

Minho looked up, scowling. He placed the chalk down and pursed his lips, directing his attention towards the clay figurines that were laid out in front of the elderly woman. You, as well as the 10 other kids in the cottage, were fascinated by the story being told. The woman was teaching you about your culture, the information you needed to know regarding the upcoming ceremony. It was important, and yet Minho couldn’t bring himself to care. He liked cats more than dragons anyway.

“As I was saying.” She cleared her throat, resuming her lesson.

“Now that you children are 13, you are no longer babies. Certain things are expected of you. You have embarked on your journey to adulthood...and thus, there are certain things you must know. The elements of our village, for one.”

She gestured to the figurines on the dirt floor in front of her. “As you all already know, there are four elements.” She pointed to a spiky pyramid, and then to a smooth sphere. “Ember, Aqua...” Her fingers moved to the next pair- a rough cube and a glassy cone. “...Terra and Aer. These are the symbols of the elements. Of course, you all have already seen the life-sized versions of these in our square.”

Eager nods, making her continue with a pleased smile.

“Every dragon on this planet has a corresponding element that they have control over. They possess immense power, and the ability to command these elements.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Hm, maybe this wasn’t as lame as he’d thought it would be..

“I’m sure you children have seen your parents, older friends and relatives with their dragons.” There was a chorus of agreement, and the woman nodded.

“Well, from next week onwards, you will each have your own dragons. Through the ceremony, you will all be assigned a hatchling, with which you will spend the rest of your life.”

Minho hummed in curiosity as the woman dismissed the class. “Good luck, loves. Remember, there will be a few more classes to brief you further.”

The others started filing out slowly as you turned to Minho. “Isn’t this exciting?” You tilted your head, running your eyes over the figurines. “Since my family are all fire elementals, do you think I’ll get an ember dragon?”

“I don’t think it works that way. My father said it doesn’t matter what family you come from, the dragon you get matched with can be of any element, apparently. Though it hasn’t ever happened yet.” He shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He yawned. “I already knew everything she said. I could have used this valuable time for something else.” He was lying, to be honest. The only thing he knew about dragons was what he’d just told you.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Do you wanna go to the lake?”

You grinned. “Sure, let’s!” You nodded in agreement as Minho stood up eagerly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the cottage. You giggled as he dragged you. “Hey, slow down! Also, we can’t be there for long. We’ve got to be home for that joint dinner, or our fathers will be very mad.”

“Eh, they’d barely notice if we’re gone. When discussing village matters, they don’t give a fuck about their own children, even.” He muttered bitterly.

“Well...that is true.” You sighed as Minho pulled you all the way to the lake, weaving past the villagers, even bumping into some of them. A few of them frowned and made shouts of displeasure, while others didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe they did, and was just too afraid to voice their anger towards the chiefs’ children.

The cottages start becoming more sparse, the trees more tightly clustered. Minho held your hand tightly as you made your way through the woods. Finally, the two of you reached the clearing.

Letting go of your hand gently, Minho sat at the edge of the lake, beckoning you over to sit next to him.

“I wish this place wasn’t so far away from the village.” You sighed, legs aching as you flopped down onto the grass.

Minho shook his head slowly, his fingers fiddling with a tiny dandelion he’d pulled out. “The further away, the better.” He grumbled, blowing on it and watching as the seeds floated in the breeze.

You sighed. There it was, again. You knew better than to oppose him, so you hummed, scooting a little closer and placing your hand on top of his. “I know you want to leave this place. I know you want to...to explore the world. I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll be by your side.” You said honestly.

Minho looked up at you. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He felt like there was a lump in his throat. Minho knew how much this village and its culture meant to you. You were really willing to do that for him? Leave, and never come back?

“Listen here, Miss L/n.” He turned to you, inhaling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft as they brushed against your skin. You blushed, staring at him with wide eyes as he spoke.

“I’m the one who’s going to be making the sacrifices here, alright? I’m older than you, remember? I call the shots.” He chuckled, booping your nose.

“I love you so much, star.”

You cringed at the nickname, shoving him away. “Stop calling me that, you sound like a character in one of Mr Yang’s cheesy novels.”

He smirked at that. “I’ll never stop calling you that. You’re my star, cause you light up my world and guide me when everything’s dark.” He reasoned, laughing and throwing his head back as he watched you wrinkle your nose in disgust, looking a little like a bunny.

Humming, Minho lay back on the grass, and you followed suit after a minute of hesitation.

“I don’t mind you calling me that. Just don’t do it in front of people.”

“Okay, I won’t. It’s just us all the time, anyway...”

The two of you stared up at the sky, listening to the calm sounds of frogs ribbiting, birds chirping, and the splashing sounds of the fish in the lake. Above it all though, was the sound of your heart, beating persistently as Minho’s fingers creeped closer to yours, intertwining your hands.

“It’s always us...”

***

Your father had explained to you that since your family consisted entirely of ember elementals, your dragon would be of the same kind as well. This went against what Minho had told you before, and your mind was swimming with all the different information you were receiving.

“But...Minho said it doesn’t work that way.”

He sat on his armchair, chewing on a chicken leg as he raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, he’s wrong.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s never happened in centuries, and it’s not gonna happen now. You’re an Ember, through and through.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you’re always right, Father.”

He nodded, not picking up on the snark your sentence was dripping with. "The bond you share with your dragon is one that can never be replicated. You choose it, and it chooses you. It is truly a beautiful process, a spectacle to behold. Every single villager will be watching, so you better hold your head high. Make me proud."

You were about to reply when you heard a knock on your door. Glancing at your father for permission, you stood up. heading through the long hallway to open the front door.

“Minho?”

You looked at him, tilting your head at his troubled expression. “What’s up?

“I came to give you these.” He said softly, looking around before showing you the fiery petals in his palms. “I borrowed a herbology book from the library a few months ago, and learnt how to grow these. Ignis flowers. They’re symbols of good luck, apparently.”

He took your hand, placing the petals on your palm. “They reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slowly. “Wow...Minho, I didn’t get you anything...” You said guiltily, humming when Minho gently pulled you into a hug.

“You don’t have to. I’ve got to go home, now. See you tomorrow!”

You nodded, the petals safe in your hands as he left hurriedly. You watched him head to his house, opposite to yours.

After he left, you were about to head to bed when your father asked you to stay back. Confused, you went over to sit in front of him, tilting your head in confusion.

“Who was at the door?”

“It was just Minho.” You shrugged, eyeing your father as he groaned, massaging his forehead. He looked like he was contemplating something, his wrinkles seeming especially prominent.

"Child, be wary of your...friend."

"Friend...?" You knew he meant Minho. You'd never heard him address him in that manner though - void of affection.

Minho's father and yours were co-chiefs of the village, best friends since birth. He’d always treated Minho like his own son. What had brought on this sudden hostility?

He noticed the expression on your face, sighing and patting your shoulder. "I'm just asking you to be careful, dear. There is talk of the Aer elementals gaining power at an accelerated rate these days. Aer dragons are growing up to be stronger, even more so than our Ember ones. It's truly a strange phenomenon. I do not want to be one of these people who is suspicious of everything and everyone...but both the kid and his father have changed. Even I can't deny that."

You swallowed at his words, watching as his face drifted off, deep in thought. You'd heard of it too- hushed whispers claiming that a single chief would be preferable for the village. And if your father's hunch was right...no, you didn't want to think about it.

Minho wouldn't ever betray you. You'd known him since before you could talk. you’d build up a lot of trust in each other over the years. There was no one else you knew as well. If you couldn’t trust him, who could?

No. He would never hurt you. You were sure of it.

***

The whole village was buzzing for weeks after the ceremony took place. They simply couldn't understand what had happened. It was unprecedented- and the news spread like wildfire.

You were matched with a majestic Aer creature, and Minho a beautiful crimson beast of Ember. Mistakes weren't possible- the process was never questioned- but that didn't mean people weren't bewildered.

For centuries, no one had managed to match with a dragon that controlled an element that differed from theirs.

Neither of you could understand why your fathers and the villagers were so perplexed, though. Was it really as big of a deal as they made it seem?

"I don't get it. Why is it such a humongous problem? They’re just dragons. What’s the need for all this drama?" Minho rolled his eyes as he spoke.

You stroked your dragon's neck slowly as you watched him, huffing and ranting away. ‘Just dragons.’ There was a part of you that understood all the hubbub. The people loved gossip- especially if it involved the chiefs.

"It really isn't. They're both so beautiful, I don't really care what element they control."

You looked at your dragon, curled next to you. You wouldn't admit it, but she looked a little too beautiful- almost to the point where it intimidated you.

Translucent, white scales that reflected rainbows of light...long, beautiful almond shaped eyes that were the color of the ocean. She was larger and brighter than Minho's dragon as well. Your father had been right...the Aer dragons were evolving quicker, somehow.

She was quiet and regal, her sleek body elegant and her demeanor refined. You didn’t really have much in common, to be honest. You’d named her Caeli- a name that wasn’t really all that creative, but it would do. Besides, it seemed to fit.

Minho looked at you, sighing slowly. "Aeracus seems hungry. Father will be expecting me soon anyway, I think I'll go home now, Y/n."

"Bye, Min."

He shot you a dashing grin before standing up, climbing his dragon.

As they left, a great whoosh of wind rustling your hair, you looked up at your dragon. She was staring at the water, her eyes narrowed.

You were starting to feel a little worried. You couldn’t exactly...hear her thoughts. She seemed too closed off, barely even looking at you as she blankly watched the frogs jump from one lilypad to the other. You didn’t feel that special bond everyone had been talking about for years, insisting to you that it would be a connection so profound you wouldn’t be able to live without it.

Did she not like you? You looked so average next to her ethereality, drab and plain as opposed to her stunning beauty.

You couldn’t blame her, really.

***

When Minho stood next to your dragon, the sight somehow made more sense. He was beautiful, and so was the creature next to him. They fit together perfectly.

Aeracus on the other hand, was slightly more average. He was majestic as well, but not on the same level as Caeli. You felt more at home riding him, somehow. Like...he was the one that was meant to be yours.

Of course, you wouldn’t ever tell anyone about this. It could be considered infidelity, even. Your father was disappointed enough in you as it was. Four years of training with Caeli, and you still weren’t able to channel her power into...anything. She just wouldn’t co-operate.

"There you go..." He finished slipping the harness onto Caeli, dusting off his hands as he came back over to you, giggling as Aeracus rubbed his big head against your side.

Minho raised his eyebrows at the display of affection. Aeracus was never that amicable to him. Yes, he listened to him...but that was about it. And yet, to you...he always noticed how the two of you seemed to have some sort of connection. He’d mentioned this to his father once, only to be called ridiculous.

Then again, he couldn’t blame the dragon for having a soft spot for you. Who wouldn’t?

“Hey...” He looked down at you as the dragon pulled away, ambling off to Caeli’s side. You glanced up slowly when Minho cleared his throat, leaning in a little as his fingers ran through your tresses. Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening slightly at his touch.

"A leaf. In your hair." He mumbled, throwing said leaf onto the ground as he stared into your eyes.

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest as your gaze ran over his features, so close to your face. Fuck, he was so deathly handsome, even more so now that you were both almost adults. Puberty had treated him well.

A little too well.

The girls in the square swooning over Minho became a regular occurrence now. You couldn't even seem to go anywhere with your best friend, without having a mob of fangirls following closely.

When he was this close to you, it became overwhelmingly evident why his fans were so enamored by him. Lee Minho really was beautiful.

"Careful, a fly might make its nest in your mouth." He chuckled. "What's up, kitten? You look on edge."

That was the other thing. His latest habit of calling you pet names- the likes of which included princess and kitten- had come out of nowhere. He really seemed to enjoy making you blush. At times like this, you wished he would have just stuck with ‘star’.

“Nothing.” You stuttered, avoiding his eyes and choosing to focus your stare on the ground. Minho wasn’t in the mood for your shyness, though. He placed his finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You sure about that? Is there a reason you look so flustered right now?” He breathed, leaning in closer until your noses were brushing.

Oh, fuck you, Lee.

You'd always thought Minho was attractive. Of course. You'd be blind not to notice. And yet, at this proximity, you felt like you haven’t ever truly appreciated just how fucking hot the man in front of you was.

And so you did something you never thought you’d have the courage to do.

Leaning in, you closed the distance between the two of you, lips crashing against his. To Minho’s credit, he wasn’t all that shocked. Smirking against you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, gluing your body to his.

Backing you up against a tree, Minho was quick to lift your thigh, slotting your hips together as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip.

A groan left you as he slid his hand under your shirt, pulling away to stare at you, the sight of your swollen lips affecting him in ways he couldn’t quite describe.

“What...what did we just-”

He shut you up with another kiss, rougher than the last one. Breathless pecks, desperately claiming you with his lips as he pressed himself against you.

“Just go with the flow, baby.”

And so you did.

***

As you carefully made your way down, your mind was racing with a million thoughts. The thought of seeing your boyfriend again after so many years scared you as much as it excited you. After all...it wasn’t like you parted on good terms.

You still remembered the heartbroken look on his face, the last time you saw him. You couldn’t tell him that you’d tried everything, tried your best to reason with your father who simply refused to budge. He’d expected you to do something more...but what?

It wasn’t his fault. It was a fucking accident, and yet he’d had to take the blame.

Deep down, though, you knew what your father’s real intentions had been when he banished Minho and his father from the village. Of course, Caeli’s death had shaken him- the entire village had been in a state of shock. The death of a dragon was the most tragic event that could possibly befall a village. And when said dragon happened to belong to the chief’s daughter? Shattering.

At the end of the day though, it was a convenient incident...one that happened to take place just as your father’s status was being questioned. A blessing in disguise, for him.

“It’s okay, my child. Yes, you suffered a great loss, but I know you weren’t that close to it. We must move on. On the bright side, you can focus on your studies now! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

You scoffed, his words repeating themselves in your brain. Bullshit. There was no bright side, nor would there ever be one without Minho in your life.

***

“There you are. Where were you?"

"I...was with Aeracus." You didn't see the point in lying. Your brain was too tired to come up with a believable fabrication anyway.

As expected, his face screwed up in anger as he glared, standing up.

"Why?" He hissed. "Let me remind you he is not your dragon. How many times have I told you not to get too close to it?"

"Aeracus and I have a bond." You mumbled.

"No. You don't. A bond is forged between a dragon and its owner by forces beyond our control. This measly 'friendship', if you can even call it that, is trivial. At the end of the day, it doesn't really belong to you. It belongs to the boy who betrayed you."

You couldn't bring yourself to react any more. Your father was old-fashioned, his opinions set in stone. ‘Betrayed’. You wanted to scoff.

You turned around without a word, heading for your room. There was no energy left in your body, yet the exhaustion was overpowered by your emotions.

"Y/n, wait."

You stopped, turning and looking at him. "What?"

"Your maids are waiting to dress you. Don't argue with them. You are to wear the outfit I picked out for you. Today's dinner is extremely important." He paused. "And...what I said before still stands. The dragon won't hesitate to betray you, especially now that his true owner is coming back. Be...be careful." Your father said quietly, his face softening.

You sighed. "I will be."

"Good."

He dismissed you. You heaved a sigh of relief under your breath and headed out, opening the door to your own room.

You would never admit this to your father, but as nervous as you were, you were secretly looking forward to the dinner. To see him again.

If you closed your eyes and immersed yourself deep enough into your imagination, you could still feel his touch ghosting along your thighs. His soft lips, pressing against yours.

You missed his voice, his tight hugs...you missed everything about him. You'd only ever felt safe in his arms.

The loneliness and pain had consumed you when he left. Maybe that's why you latched on to Aeracus, the last remnant of Minho in this village that seemed so much more dreary without his presence.

"Miss Y/n! We have no time to lose." Your head maid scurried about your room with two others, spreading out your dress on your bed. One of the maids- Sylvia, you think her name was- snuck up behind you and began undressing you. Yes, you were used to this, but the layer of urgency in the atmosphere was a lot more profound tonight.

The entire village was on edge, and you couldn’t really blame them. The first Elemental Championships, and they were being hosted at your village. The exhilaration was understandable...you couldn't bring yourself to feel the same way, though. Maybe if you were actually participating, you’d feel different.

You looked at the dress the maid was holding onto, initially without much interest...but your eyes widened when it came into view.

It was beautiful, yet simple...the color of spun gold, with tiny rubies clustered at the bodice. The sleeves fell of the shoulders delicately, and the material was diaphanous, the texture rich.

“Wow....Sylvia, you made this?”

“I did. It took me a year.” She smiled widely, your grin satisfying her. “Do you really like it, Miss Y/n?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice, and your grin grew wider as they started helping you into it.

“Like it? I love it! You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

She nodded in content, lacing up the back as the other maids began on your makeup. Usually, you didn’t like being treated as a doll, your servants fussing over you and your appearance. Today, though...

You could barely believe the reflection you were seeing in the mirror belonged to you. You'd never felt so glamorous before.

“You look beautiful, Miss.” Sylvia said softly, adjusting your sleeves.

You couldn’t wait for Minho to see you in this dress.

“Ann?” Another servant’s head appeared around the corner. “It’s time. They will arrive any moment now.”

A flurry of anxious noises and exclamations filled the room as they worked on you faster. You took a deep breath in, your mind blank and full of thoughts at the same time.

***

You stood next to your father, hands clasped in front of you. Surreptitiously, you raised your hand to your forehead, wiping away a few drops of perspiration. It was happening, you were finally going to see Minho again. And if your father successfully manages to make amends with his- fuck, you were grinning just thinking about it.

The villagers standing behind you were all dressed in their best as well, and the lanterns shone brightly, washing over everything. The air was sparkling, the atmosphere charged with electricity. Everyone had their eyes trained on the sky, waiting for Minho’s people. The two other villages were to come tomorrow, according to the letters.

Four villages. All competing in the championship yours was hosting. It was nerve-wracking, the amount of people who would be crammed into your village, which was big enough, really- possibly the largest in the country- it still stressed you out, though. Since there weren’t enough guest houses to fit everyone, a lot of the visitors would be staying with your villagers, the chiefs and their families staying at your house. You were keenly aware of the fact that this meant Minho would be in the same living quarters as you. Your heart pounded at the prospect.

Later in the night, you were planning to sneak into his room, since you obviously wouldn’t be allowed to talk to him during the dinner. At least, you wouldn’t be able to communicate the things you so desperately wanted to say to him. Every part of you tingled as you thought about what you’d say to him.

You felt light as a feather as you stared at the starry sky, eyes widening slightly as you spotted the thousands of dots in the distance, flying closer. Anticipation and exhilaration mingled in you as you waited for them to arrive. Just the thought of feeling Minho pressed up against you again, whispering in your ear how much he loved you...it made you want to cry, almost. You’d waited for this moment for too long.

The conch shell was blown as they reached the edge of the forest. More than a thousand dragons, covered in finery, just like their riders.

Hmm. There were a lot more than you expected. You’d only been anticipating about a hundred, since it was only Minho’s village that was coming tonight. Or so you’d thought...

You turned your head to look at your father, letting the confusion show on your face. Noticing your expression, he shrugged. “It looks like all three decided to come tonight.”

You frowned, looking back at the dragons that were at the border now, preparing for landing. That was weird.

You observed the dragons that had landed, your eyebrows furrowing. Huh.

The three dragons at the front were a lot bulkier than the ones in the back. Darker colors, almost hulking muscles and narrow eyes. They looked like no dragon you’d ever seen before. The sight was almost unsettling. You felt a faint sense of dread spreading over you, a feeling you tried to push away as your eyes searched each dragon’s back for Minho.

You recognized Minho’s father right away. He was at the very front, along with two other old men on a green and blue dragon respectively, that you realized were the chiefs of the other two villages. Surprisingly though, Minho wasn’t sat behind him. You’d assumed it to be that way...after all, Minho’s dragon was still here. So where was he? Your eyebrows furrowed, not wanting to assume the worst right away. You wildly looked over them all, craning your neck slightly. You didn’t want to seem too eager, but it’s not like you could help yourself. Could anyone blame you? Here you were, about to meet the first and only person you’d ever fallen in love with, after years of yearning and loneliness.

As your father stepped forward, a smile on his face to greet the chiefs, you finally saw him.

For a minute, it was like you couldn’t breathe. He looked as beautiful as ever, his feline eyes twinkling, his dark hair exposing part of his smooth forehead. His hands gripped the reins so tightly his knuckles were white, and the way he sat on his dragon was regal, his expression confident and filled with determination. He was older, and somehow even more handsome than the last time you saw him. You didn’t even think that was possible.

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes finally met yours.

It was like time had ceased for a minute. You smiled slowly, happy tears pricking at your eyes as you took in his face.

He didn’t smile back.

And that’s when you noticed the pale arms wrapped around his waist. Confused, you watched as the chiefs dismounted the dragons, along with their heirs. Minho alighted from the dragon, helping down the woman who had been holding onto him. He held her hands gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

You felt like your whole world had collapsed, bile rising in your throat as you watched her giggle. You noticed she was dressed in blue, her clothing that of a heiress. As they approached, your eyes fell on the sparkling ring on her finger...one that matched Minho’s.

When his eyes looked into yours again, they were cold, just like your heart.

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krisingtons · 3 years

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Happy Birthday Toshinori Yagi / All Might!

To celebrate the Symbol of Peace's birthday, here is my take on Toshinori's potential astrology natal chart, complete with explanations and reasoning. Buckle up for the highly specific, mashing up two niche interests post that literally no one asked for.

For BNHA Fans:

I will do my absolute best to explain the chart below step-by-step. If there's anything you want to know more about, feel free to ask or consult an online resource with the terms I used.

All the placements I've chosen are based on what we know in canon. Any new information we receive in canon may change this post.

The only official astrology information we have in canon is Toshinori's Sun sign, which is Gemini based on his June 10th birthday. (I'll get into this.)

After looking at some of the Sun signs Horikoshi gave to different characters, I'm convinced the man knows at least a little bit about astrology because they're very on point for everyone.

For Astrologers:

I only focused on the seven personal planets, even though I believe the generational planets have a big impact on the BNHA universe. It was just more than I could focus on.

I did not bother with the decans other than to vaguely have a sense of it, especially for the angles. I messed a few up slightly.

I also did not bother with retrogrades, even though I suspect Toshinori has one or two (I suspect Mars in particular).

I use Whole Sign Houses. To calculate houses, start with the AC, then move one sign counter-clockwise for each house. (Here, Leo is the 1st, Virgo is the 2nd, etc.)

For the moment of truth...

Toshinori Yagi's Astrology Natal Chart

(Yes, I drew it by hand. I'll zoom in for specific parts)

Sun, Moon, Rising

Since the only piece of information we have to work with from canon is Toshinori's Sun sign, let's start there.

The bigger circle surrounding the smaller circle represents Toshinori's Sun. Born on June 10th, this makes him a Gemini Sun. The Sun represents the ego, how the outer world sees us, and Geminis are very talkative, sociable, playful, and charming, but can be reluctant to engage with deeper feelings and are often restless for activity. As far as an astrological starting point goes, well done, Horikoshi. These themes clearly show up in Toshinori/All Might's external identity, and as I'll share, it plays a big part in his career, too, since I put it in the 11th house of community and serving others. (Note that conjunct MC, astrologers.) Next, let's talk about Toshinori's Moon.

This is the symbol for the moon. I feel pretty strongly that Toshinori has an Aquarius Moon. The moon represents our emotions, our inner life, and sometimes our mother. Aquarius is all about society, community, an unconventional way of doing things, and an idealism for what could be. Aquarius' often feel a push and pull between needing independence and needing to connect with others emotionally and intellectually. Not only does this seem to cover Toshinori's inner life well, but his mother figure served those ideals, too. Let's move on to the Rising Sign, also known as the AC. The Rising Sign indicates what sign was on the horizon at the time someone was born.

I placed his Rising Sign in Leo for two reasons. First, Leo is ruled by the Sun, and since Toshinori clearly embodies many of the traits of his Sun sign, it made sense to double down on that. Second, Leo Rising perfectly places his Sun in the 11th house of friendship, community, hopes and wishes, and social goals.

Mercury and Venus

Moving on to Mercury and Venus, these two planets go well together because they have rules about their distance from the Sun. Mercury can never be more than one sign away from the Sun, while Venus can never be more than two signs away due to their physical proximity to the Sun from our viewpoint on Earth.

First, Mercury.

Mercury is the symbol next to the Sun that (ironically) looks like it has bunny ears. Mercury indicates how we communicate things and how we learn. It is at home in Gemini, and people with a Gemini Mercury are often witty and knowledgeable. With it so close to the Sun and the Midheaven (which we'll get to later), it indicates how much his words were a part of his "brand" in his career, both through catchphrases and through frequent media appearances.

Now, Venus.

This was probably the toughest one to place for me (and for the astrologers paying close attention, I probably placed the degree too far from the Sun, my bad). I decided to put it in Aries in the 9th house for a couple of reasons.

First, Venus rules Toshinori's 10th house of career, and the 9th house represents, among other things, international travel and higher education. All Might's career was largely based on his time studying abroad and branding himself with symbolism from a country other than his own. Venus also represents things we love and our creative energy, and All Might clearly has a love of all things American.

Then, I placed Venus in Aries because Aries is ruled by Mars. It's a sign and planet of action, demonstrating Toshinori's drive in his career. However, Mars is also a planet that is considered violent, symbolizing war and things that literally cut. This pairs well with where I've placed Mars as shown below.

Mars

Alright, Mars is important canon-wise. As I just mentioned from Venus, Mars is a planet that cuts, which indicates war. And I've placed it in Cancer, which is Toshinori's 12th house. The 12th house, among other things, indicates service, sacrifice, mental health, and enemies. Toshinori literally sacrificed himself, his body, his life, by fighting a long-time enemy, an enemy he trained years to fight (hello again, 9th house Venus). Cancer is ruled by the Moon, which pairs well with his sense of service, too, since it's in Aquarius.

Jupiter and Saturn

Here's where we get into the meat of canon.

Jupiter first.

Jupiter is at home in Pisces, a sign that's all about dreams, saving the world, charitable giving, but also elusiveness. Jupiter, meanwhile is one of the best planets in Toshinori's chart, not only because it's in Pisces, but because Jupiter is all about good fortune, blessings, and opportunities. I've put it in the 8th house, which, among other things, signifies things that are inherited. That's right, my take on Toshinori's astrology indicates him getting One for All.

Planets in the 8th house can also indicate how someone handles a crisis, and Jupiter gives Toshinori the strength and positive attitude to handle a crisis well.

Finally, Saturn.

Saturn is like the Dad of the sky, indicating structure, discipline, and order. I've put it in Sagittarius, which is Toshinori's 5th house. Jupiter also rules Sagittarius, doubling down on the power of Jupiter in his chart. More importantly, the 5th house represents children and other ways we leave our legacy in the world. Saturn in the 5th house often indicates people who raise children that are not their own. This can be through adoption, step-parenting, or... mentorships. Hello, Izuku!

People with Saturn in the 5th house also are not inclined to relax, choosing to work more in lieu of leisure time.

What about all those lines?

Alright, I admittedly don't want to get too much into the aspect lines (the red and blue ones) because that goes more in-depth than I wanted, but they are purposeful. If you're interested in aspects, I encourage you to look up Squares, Trines, and Oppositions in particular.

I will mention the Midheaven, though. The Midheaven (MC) is the highest point in the sky, but not an actual physical body.

The MC represents a person's calling or vocation. If the Midheaven is not in the 10th house of career, it imports the themes of the house its placed in into someone's career. I've placed it again in Toshinori's 11th house of community since that's obviously a big part of his career. I also did that because the MC is always countered by the IC, which indicates someone's home and family life. Tumblr won't let me add another image, but if you go back up to Saturn, you can see the IC is also in Toshinori's 5th house, doubling down on the idea that mentor/mentee relationships play a big part in his sense of family.

As one final note, some of you may have noticed that I did place the north and south node in Toshinori's chart in the 5th and 11th house respectively. I won't get into detail here, but I wanted to give you the term in case you wanted to look it up. It's actually pretty significant this year, though, because the nodes indicate which signs eclipses happen in for that year, and it just so happens that there is a Solar Eclipse in Gemini today!

There you have it! I hope you enjoyed my wildly specific birthday post for Toshinori Yagi, better known as All Might. I'm wishing the happiest of birthdays to our favorite sunflower!

#toshinori yagi #yagi toshinori #all might #dadmight #happy birthday all might #natal chart #astrology natal chart #zodiac signs #bnha #mha #astrology #birth chart

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toku-explained · 3 years

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The Swordsmen's story

Heroes' Odyssey: the story of the miracle team up of Tiga and Dyna is completed. Okay, it's time to talk about the Tsuruno Takeshi situation. While obviously it is bad that Asuka's scenes have been cut, I have to stress, in no uncertain terms, that the problem is the Chinese Government. Far more powerful companies than Tsuburaya have been forced to make changes to films to appease them. Do I hope that Tsuburaya will change it's position on including Tsuruno in scenes? Absolutely, and ideally the fact Toei has him doing Zenkaiger's theme despite the current situation will lead to them changing their position sooner rather than later.

Saber: Okay, good, Sword of Logos isn't ruled just on the authority of Master Logos, the seeming true enemy, but there's also a council of sages, who may also be corrupt. Ren leaves Southern Base, deciding on Kento alone. Yuki wants a sequel to Lost Memory, which leads to reflecting on Touma's past, then Yuri explains the Wonder Ride Books history. Storious and Zooous have had Charybdis reading all sorts of tomes. If all the Wonder Ride Books are gathered together the world will be unmade, which is why Reika has been stealing them. Master Logos saw Touma as the key to gathering them, but now it's time to be rid of him, with help from Reika's brother, Shindai Ryoga, wielder of the Sword of Time, Kaiji? Ren finds Kento and tries to join him, but Kento transforms in order to seal Hayate, forcing Kento to fight, Desast arrives too, amused to realise Kento is back. Touma rushed to the scene, arriving after Caliber seals half of Hayate. Using Elemental Dragon he manages to overpower Kento, who believes he is continuing his father's work. Ren vows to get stronger so Kento notices him. Mei briefly sees Wonder World in the sky.

Zenkaiger: Ijirude sends out Boxing World when Vroon rushes over to him asking about the freed Koritopia and Kinokotopia, Ijirude decides to have him scrapped to stop the information getting out. Boxing World forces people into impromptu boxing matches. As the team prepares to fight him, Vroon literally runs into them. Mid battle Vroon starts asking if they stole their gears from Ijirude or have also been capturing Worlds. Deciding he must be important, they get him away from Boxing World. Ijirude orders Vroon defeated, leading Boxing World to set the winning boxers after him. Vroon is very curious about everything now he's out in the world, and reveals that even his working in the palace as a cleaner was to satisfy his curiosity. He explains the actual nature of the Tojiru Gears and the liberated worlds to the others, allowing them to finally learn how to save them all. When they're then cornered by Ijirude and Boxing World, Vroon decides to give his notice and ask to fight with them. Due to his curiosity he asks how the Geartlinger works before accidentally firing. If Vroon resembles Souta, then ZenkaiVroon represents the vehicle Sentai, resembling DaiBouken. Using the Dairanger Gear grants them all use of the Dairen Rods. After defeating Boxing World it's time for Dai Boxing World, who gets the advantage due to ZenkaiOh ZyuraGaon breaking the rules by having a sword in the ring. Vroon becomes VroonDump, resembling GoGo Dump, and removes the ring, prompting the summoning of another Kudaitest. Kaito evens the field by merging ZenkaiOh VrooMagin. After the two robots get both opponents in the same ring, they swap for ZyuraMagin and VrooGaon, then back again. Boxingtopia is freed. Later, when Secchan mentions Isao and Mitsuko, Vroon mentions there were people with those names at Ijirude's lab at one point.

Zenkai File: This time all 4 Kikainoids are shrunk by Braceki World, so Kaito combines them into all 4 mecha combinations before they finally are restored to fight Dai Braceki World.

Introducing ZenkaiRed: The now-human Magin seems to be struggling to make any prediction, but decides to gorge on sweets. The Tojitendo discuss Normal Warumono World's plan. Secchan somehow receives a challenge from him for the Zenkaigers. Red and Gaon talk, and Kaito catches up to them. Turns out Gaon had been leaving a trail so Kaito could find him, but Kaito didn't notice. Kaito invites them to battle. Zyuran, Magin and Vroon are making their way to the battle when Vroon and Zyuran suddenly become human. At the battle site the 6 meet up, and when Normal Warumono World arrives, Red calls the rest to his side, leading the Zenkaigers into battle. Or he would, but none of them change, and then his gear and Geartlinger vanish. Despite their lack of powers, the regular Zenkaigers fight nonetheless. Red reveals to Kaito he was given his equipment by Normal Warumono World as part of some scheme. Kaito encourages him he can fight too, and when Red reaches out to him his gear and Geartlinger reappear. Together they become Zenkaiser and ZenkaiRed, and use the normal Lupinranger Gear and Red Patranger Gear to perform a combined Itadaki-Ichigeki Strike to defeat Normal Warumono World, returning the Kikainoids to their true forms. Normal Warumono World revives on his own, Zenkaiser and ZenkaiRed pilot ZenkaiOh ZyuraGaon together. Afterwards, after some talking Red leaves, only giving his name as ZenkaiRed, saying he'll give his name when he's acknowledged as the Zenkaiger leader. When Kaito returns to his doubts about the leader having to be red, he is corrected and greeted in a vision by Sentai leaders who have white in them: Big One, Battle Japan, Red Falcon, BoukenRed, ShishiRed Orion, Patren 1, and lead by NinjaWhite, Tsuruhime. They tell him that what's important in the leader is not the colour, but the heart. Kaito wakes up, having seemingly dreamt the whole adventure, but now reassured of his position.

Dogengers: All the heroes tell Ohgaman that Dogengers is a terrible team name. Ohgaman and Yabai Kamen square off, Kitaqman actually fights some Karami, leaving Metal to face Maid Shitsuji, after Yaamshiron, Daidairon and Aoiron face some Karami they're confronted by Nectaris, El Brave and Uzagi rematch, with Gallia as referee, the two Fukuokaliber confront Shuraomaru, and Rookie faces some Karami, and takes on more confronting Yuki, who is using the Naginata to defend Eboshi Musha, he stops to tell Yuki he has something to say when the battle is done. Kitaqman and Metal use the Kitaq Kick and Metallic Smash to defeat Maid Shitsuji, the Yamashiro Gas Co Sales Department Hero Division use the 3 Man Check on Nectaris, El Brave's Brave Slash defeats both Uzagi and Shaberryman, and a combined Hakata-ori Dynamic defeats Shuraomaru. Rookie leaps at Yabai Kamen, and his Karami squad, before Ohgaman gets a chance, accidentally injuring him a little. They then join forces, after a Double Kick, they activate their finishers, with a bonus of Rookie's thermometers. Yabai Kamen intends to destroy Fukuoka and them with it, but Rookie is able to block the attack, and by joining Rookie's spear with Ohgaman's gun they launch a Golden Seal powered final attack. The heroes have a party to celebrate their reunion.

Yabai Kamen is forced to make an apology in behalf of Aku no Himitsu Kessya, El Brave returns to the factory, the Yamashiro Gas Co Sales Department Hero Division leave work, arguing over Redron's bike, merge to travel. Eboshi Musha and Fukuokaliber clean up, assisted by Misetaka, a mascot for Kyushu Asahi Broadcasting. Kitaqman finally removes his helmet, allowing Taki Yuki to enjoy a meal. In Kagoshima, Kojin NEW EX, a hero there, greets Ohgaman after defeating some Karami. Most of the Arakuremono quit, the last, along with the Marou Project Kaijin, harass a civilian who Rookie saves, the man seems to have a sort of recognition of something in Rookie. Tanaka finally tells Yuki what he meant to so long ago, and asks her to be with him in a way. As they run to greet the heroes, with Yabai Kamen forced to give them a lift, the last piece of the Golden Seal, floats towards the area, where 3 toys from childhood are stood together.

#toku explained #kikai sentai zenkaiger #kamen rider saber #dogengers

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th3okamid3monart · 4 years

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Ya no estoy aquí, another take on immigrant stories.

(This will have SPOILERS for Ya no estoy aqui, I recommend watching it first. It is very touching and heavy tale of belonging and loneliness)

Sinopsis:

Ulises takes is the leader of the cumbia loving group Terkos in Monterrey, Mexico. But when he gets involve on a gang related accident he has to leave his home so his family and him can be safe, taking up a new home in the distant city of New York.

Writing-Directing-Acting

This piece of media was one of the best made in Mexico so far. Mexico has been growing in the production and creation of different movies which resonate with a diverse of groups. This time it was the turn of one of the most negated states and music genre ever.

Ya no estoy aqui has a well done balance in the writing, expressing and pointing out different subjects that plague the world; from immigration to corruption, from cultural sub groups to violent gangs and, in the background, the injustices a society faces when they are being neglected by the government or the violence has grown into an out of control normality.

The point of view we follow is from Ulises how he works around and moves to survive, but we can also see how the people around him reacts like the ones he left behind in Monterrey, how their lives have changed so much due to him being away and how the situation in his city is changing.

We can also see the point of view of other people who are in the same situation as Ulises, although they’re not face with as much difficulty as him due to knowing the language.

It explores how the mindset changes, how the characters experience life in the new places and how those places change them. It brings up the hardships of being an immigrant and how awfully homesick they feel, and yet we can also see how those people can act so harshly between each other, respectively how 3 of the tertiary characters treated Ulises just for the way he looked. It’s very clear they are from Mexico as well, it shows how people in general can treat each other as bad if not worse than people from a different country.

Ulises is a very well made character, it shows he is a whole person with feelings, hardships and desires. The actor, Juan Daniel García Treviño, makes a great job by showing the difference between him living in his home, being happy, bright and engaging, and living in big city, where he begins to act isolated, serious and having little to nothing of humor. The change of tendencies and attitudes can be quite hard, since you’re told you need to practically change the character. You need to change who you are. That’s exactly what happens to the character and Juan Daniel does is amazingly.

The idea of being ripped away from your home, your family, your culture and being thrown into the shark tank that is, not only other country, but the most violent and cynical city in the whole country (fighting for the 1st place is Los Angeles and Texas in my inexpert opinion).

There were some odd acting moments, mostly during the group parts where Ulises is with the Terkos. And curiously, it’s not the dancing parts. It’s their interactions at times, they are a bit stiff and awkward. There are other shots where they are seen laughing and playing, and those look very natural. Maybe those shots were the first one they were doing.

The director Fernando Frias understands the importance of belonging somewhere. The whole film is about that and you can perceive it everywhere the character goes. The concept is a very important and powerful one among the sentiments of loneliness and sadness which are used as well.

Seeing the character struggle in a world that he doesn’t fit in, that he doesn’t feel its home is the main and most important thing everyone can relate to. Even if you aren’t an immigrant, you can understand how awful feeling alone and feeling an absence or emptiness in your being can feel. We can sympathize with that and maybe get a more understanding view of the people surrounding us. We only want to be understood, we only want to be seen as part of something or somewhere where one can be themselves without being a mocking or something.

Photography

Amazing shots by Damian Garcia. Another work I’ve seen from his is La vida Precoz y Breve de Sabina Rivas. Between this two you can see he tends to work with darkness, not all the time just very commonly. And he does it VERY well. People have a bad habit of underexposing their scenes, to the point of ABSOLUTE DARKNESS (I’m looking at you, fucking USA horror movies that only woRK ON FUCKING BLUES AND GRAY TONES AS WELL MY GO-). Mr. Garcia does it perfectly and balanced, you can see the silouttes in the dark, you can see the movement.

The shots are very active, by this I mean they are sequence shots. Sequence shots follow the character around, there are also zoom outs and zoom ins mostly used in the flashbacks, which makes it have a more nostalgic feeling. There’s a specific shot where Ulises is dancing with los Terkos and the camera zooms out to make the shot a perfect square, showing them in the center while the rest of the screen is in almost pitch black. That scene is perfect, it doesn’t need a slow mo, it doesn’t need music, and it only needs the energy, the laughs, and the music coming from the radio to give us what Ulises want.

The colors are balanced, not oversaturated but still bright enough. When it comes to viewing cities and towns, photographers tend to use a very cliché color scheme. For a city like New York it’s always kind of red, grey and blue tones that can also look very opaque, meanwhile for Mexican towns, they always use the yellowish, orange tones. One can get very tired of those you know? Which is why I’m very happy to observe this photography specially coming from a Mexican. There are very amazing photographers and Mr. Garcia will go even bigger soon with his amazing work.

Sound

Awesome work, capturing the essence of what the parties and dance spots sound and feel like is a complex thing to do. Not many manage to capture something that isn’t describe as only noise. It is an experience, it’s something you feel not only hear. The music is a very important part in this movie so the way it is listened from radios, the transition from being in the plane of the character and then to a type of score, while also giving us the personal taste of Ulises is a well done edited piece.

Yuri Laguna has done a lot of works, I don’t personally know many but I did get a very good experience with this movies sound, music and effects. The sound effects sounded like something for the movie and not taken from somewhere else and sounded exactly where they are intended to do so. From the foot-steps to the mumbles between characters when they are inside a store.

I really like the scene where Ulises is at a store and he is about to buy a speaker that reminds him of his home. You can hear the boss and Ulises talking and making hand signs but you can’t understand what they are saying. It’s a little detail I really enjoy. I will have to keep an open ear for any other work of Mr. Laguna

Make up, Art and Costume design

I don’t even know where to start. I’m very sure most of the places they went to are the real ones, so scouting was done very, very well and amazing to get those lovely and breathtaking shots from a high place. But the makeup?? The clothes? THE SPACES? They entire art department did so well! There are so many details that can tell you about the characters. This is what is called subtle storytelling. The scenes that stick a lot to me were the ones that took place in the home of one of Ulises friends. The whole room is dark, and her and her family are watching TV. They have anguish in their faces, and when the shot is flipped to see their backs, you can see 2 things: her phone ringing, because Ulises is trying to contact her, and the TV. Now the one thing that could caught your eye would be the phone BUT the TV has more information for you, which is how Monterrey is having not only an increase of gangs but also an increase of poverty and police violence.

The clothes are very distinguish, I don’t know much about many sub-groups. I didn’t heard of Kolombia before this movie so this is a nice look into the culture that has been popular over there. The main actor is actually from the state so maybe the costume design team got a little info from him and obviously do their own investigation. The clothing’s pop a lot, mostly due to the style (very big and long shirts and pant, and the signature white shoes of los Terkos). The hairstyle is what you would get at first sight though, it being so obviously made by the own character.

In our own modism: Se la rifaron.

I have seen very detailed works, and this one didn’t go underappreciated since the people who work in it got a nomination for an Ariel (the most prestigious Mexican film prize).

Custom design: Magdalena de la Riva y Gabriela Fernández

Make up: María Elena López y Itzel Peña García

Art design: Taísa Malouf Rodrigues y Gino Fortebuono

I didn’t found more info about this people but I’m sure they will go far if they keep up their amazing work.

Editing

I’m pretty sure the final product is what the director intended. It has clean transitions and well done jump cuts, although I think they used a lot of black ins I think the rest is fine. You don’t need to do super specific or out of the box editing when it comes to a solid story that is intended to be realistic. The pace is good and going back and forward between the flashbacks and the present gives you a more dynamic story. There are some confusing points when it comes to the dream sequences, but I think that’s mostly the point of those. The character would get into points he can’t differentiate what’s real and what’s fake. His desires are interfering with his present to the point of confusion.

Editor: Yibrán Asaud and Fernando Frias.

Conclusion

Immigration is an overused theme, a very well-known subject and a problem that has been happening for years. Problem that hasn’t been fix, if countries were at least trying to fix the problems there wouldn’t have to be so many people putting their lives in danger to travel to a safer place. Then again, people have the power and sometimes power corrupts the person (which is why I think a lot of gangs exist too). Even though it is an overused them, many writers and directors have tried to make compelling stories and characters so the subject is not only forgotten but also inspiring for the people to help others, to sympathize and to understand this people.

Ulises is not a 100% good person, nor a bad person, he is a kid who just wants to spend time with his friends and have fun while doing listening to something he loves and feels a connection with.

Another story of immigration that I really enjoy is Guten Tag, Ramon but that story is way to idealistic, while Ya no estoy aqui is more realistic. There’s also La jaula de Oro but that has a very, very dark ending, realistic non the less but still with a more pessimistic and hopeless ending. This movie kind of stands in a middle ground, where the character just comes back to a changed home.

I’ve read some people saying this movie doesn’t have a resolution, but I think that’s the point. The resolution is that life doesn’t stop. A movie with an anticlimactic ending is not a bad movie (at least not all the time), it just makes you think.

Ulises returns to his home which has changed. He didn’t had the opportunity to see it change and change with it. He will have to start from 0, it’s like going to New York all over again. Life is about change and sometimes that change can come from us or others. Things will impact you one way or another, and sometimes life goes on without you.

You have to decide what to do when you are faced with harshness. Although this movie is mostly about belonging somewhere, the ending teaches you about decisions and choosing.

Ulises chooses to return home, he chooses home even when his friends have move on from him, even if his family has turned their back on him, he chooses to come back because he missed it there and not all is bad. There’s a lot of bad going, but at least he is home now. At least he is here. (Al menos el está aquí)

Sincerely moved, TOD.

#writing #movie #2019 #movie 2019 #festival internacional de cine de morelia #ficmorelia #ficmorelia2019 #nominada al ariel 2020 #ganadora fic morelia #ganadora fic el cairo #piramide de oro #ya no estoy aqui #mexicana #mexican movie #pelicula #critic #critic?#criticism?#criticism

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lustresky · 4 years

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kahit ‘di mo alam [james ‘bucky’ barnes x f!filipina!reader]

summary: After an emotionally taxing mission, you and Bucky share some stories— and maybe also some leche flan along the way.

wc: 5200ish. (might have went to town on this one.. haha woops)

themes: angst (i need to chill tf out i’m sorry:’’/), some fluff ig, happy but kind of ambiguous ending (mayhaps a sequel....), mention of ptsd/trauma, hydra being shitty, bucky trying his best to comfort reader (this is my first time writing him so sorry if he’s kinda ooc..), filipina!reader, also kinda cliché idk

a/n: psa, i do not know how to bake. all i am is your typical filipina girl who has a soft spot for bucky and also thinks that there needs to be more poc centered readers. that is all<3 thanks to @ panlasang pinoy for da leche flan recipe lmao. also! title is a song by december avenue, which i think fits this story. check it out if you want!:]

requests are open! & pls don’t forget to like and reblog, thank you! c:

You hum quietly to yourself, beating the yolks with a silver balloon whisk that Tony had.

Out of all the things that you would never have thought Tony would own when you first joined the team, a full on expensive ass baking set was on the top of the list. Hell, you don’t even think that he’s ever opened the oven door before; but then again, the guy’s loaded, so maybe it wasn’t really a smart idea to wonder what he did or did not own.

Whatever— you thought to yourself. Pondering about what the billionaire did with his money wasn’t really what you should be focusing on right now, anyways.

You continue with the repetitive motion of your hand, stopping once the eggs were smooth. Gradually, you add the condensed milk, followed by the regular milk and then finally, a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. You mix the concoction once more, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you focus on the task at hand.

You didn’t hear the gradual shuffling of feet into the kitchen, nor the opening and closing of the refrigerator door; and so you were startled out of your concentration when Bucky Barnes himself ended up in front of you, a bowl of oatmeal in his hands as he positions himself properly on the island chair.

He doesn’t greet you— and honestly, you weren’t expecting him to anyways. You two were never really close; acquaintances at best, with how high both of your walls were built.

You really only knew Bucky from what Steve had shared. You knew that he was part of the Howling Commandos, that he’s Steve’s life long best friend, that HYDRA had brainwashed him and used him against his own will...

Even just thinking about that acronym still makes bile rise up in your throat.

HYDRA had also imprisoned you, beat you, used your body for their own gain. Your stories were similar. Two unwilling and unlucky humans— taken against their own volition, experimented on like a pack of mouse labs, memory and history wiped out to store target information…

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself.

Baking had been the only thing that you remembered from your past. As much as HYDRA tried to erase your history, the memory of your lola’s kitchen came back time and time again, relentless and the only sense of soundness that you found yourself with. The cartons of eggs, the measuring cups, the light dusting of flour all over the table, the rays of the hot afternoon sun peeking through the curtains, the smell of the freshly baked pandesal wafting through the air…

It was comforting, sometimes it was the sole thing that made you calm down. The only pleasant memory that you had left of the simple life that you barely remembered, but greatly missed and longed for.

Hence, before you knew it, you were in the spacious kitchen of the compound; making leche flan to calm your nerves and trying your best to forget what had just happened a few hours ago.

The mission had ended with the team’s victory, sure, but you don’t think that you’ll ever forget the image that had seared itself in your mind. You desperately wanted to forget the sight of Bucky, vulnerable as he lay on the ground with his metal arm torn off of his body, right before an enhanced individual gave him a powerful blow square on his abdomen.

Blood had spluttered out of his mouth, red, bright, coating the brick walls that you were both enclosed in. The mission should’ve been simple: break in, grab the information needed, and then bring said information back. There should’ve only been a few guards. It should’ve been a quick mission— but the sight of Bucky being plummeted with no remorse brought you back memories. Memories that you had tried so desperately to forget.

You bite your bottom lip harder, unintentionally gripping the bowl and whisk in your hands tighter as your arm mixes faster— faster and faster until you suddenly find yourself with a splatter of batter on your cheek.

You groan. Nice one, Y/N, you thought.

You hear a small snicker in front of you and you look up, embarrassed and annoyed. Bucky just stared back at you, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Taking a quick but good look at him, you notice that he had cleaned himself up. His hair was still damp from a shower. It was wavy, pulled back into a small ponytail behind his neck. His face was clear of soot and blood, and he no longer wore his combat outfit.

You can’t help but flicker your eyes over to his left arm, familiarity getting the best of you. You know that you should be rational, but you still feel your shoulders sink as your gaze missed the glint of metal that you were accustomed to.

Bucky senses your wandering eyes. He shakes his head, head dipping back into his bowl of oatmeal. “It isn’t your fault.” He mutters, voice raspy.

You huff, setting down the metal bowl on the marble counter with a bit too much force. You take off your apron and with it, you hastily wipe the splashed part of your face clean; or at least, as clean as you can without a mirror.

“No,” You argue, feeling your throat tighten as the memory and your emotions flashed through your mind once again. You ball up the now dirty apron, throwing it onto the counter. “It is.”

When you had seen him lying on the floor, taking hits every single second, you were unable to move. You had felt helpless, weak... cowardly. It was dumb. You were an Avenger, for Christ's sake. Your life was plenty of danger— seeing people getting hurt had never shook you so hard to the core before. Hell, you survived HYDRA.

Yet the memories were enough to make you freeze up.

Thankfully, Steve had showed up right before the enemy had landed his final blow. If it wasn’t for him, you highly doubted that Bucky would’ve been sitting in front of you right now, casually eating his oatmeal as if he didn’t almost just die a few hours ago.

When Bucky tilted his head up to look at you, ready to retaliate, you stood your ground and stared right back at his light blue eyes. Neither of you said a word.

You were angry. Mad. Furious. At Bucky? Maybe. Him dismissing the fact that you almost let him die and treating your mistake lightly was a thing in its own, but fuck. You were mad at yourself.

You feel incompetent. Useless. You almost let a teammate die, even if physically, you were completely capable of saving them. You drop your head down, unable to continue looking at someone whose life was in your hands just a few moments ago. A life that you were fully capable of protecting, but couldn’t, just because of some stupid fucking memories coming back to haunt you.

Before you know it, a hot tear ran down your cheek— and you hurriedly wiped it away with your arm. Now isn’t time, you hiss at yourself. Baring vulnerability in the middle of the kitchen? Ha. you thought to yourself.

Pathetic.

You grip the edge of the marble tiles, steadying yourself and trying to control your breathing. In and out. In and out. One, two. One, two. It was shaky at first, but after a few seconds of repeating the exercise, you managed to get a loose grip on it. Just enough of a hold to straighten your posture and set aside your mixture, before bolting away from the kitchen and into your bedroom a few doors down the hall.

Once inside, your resolve crumbles. You didn’t even have time to lay on your bed, your legs just giving up and leaving your body down on the carpet. Fresh hot tears ran down like rivers on your face, your nose stuffed, your eyes blurred. Your lungs heaved, just trying its best to give you enough oxygen, but you’re sniffling, your throat’s dry, and your mind’s weary and everything just feels like absolute shit.

You don’t remember how long you had sat there, your legs against your chest, head in your knees and hands on the back of your head as the rest of the water in your body leaves in tears.

You hate feeling like this. Emotional, vulnerable, sensitive… You aren’t supposed to be like this. You have a job. You can’t let your own personal problems get in the way of accomplishing what needed to be done. There isn’t any backing out in what you’re doing. There isn’t a delete nor reverse button. If you fuck up, you fuck up, and that’s that.

Your bedroom door suddenly opens, the unexpected sound making you flinch. Fuck, you forgot to lock it.

Still, you hold your head down against your knees. You don’t want to see anyone right now, you don’t even think that you have any energy left to make a proper conversation. Your throat’s dry, your nose is stuffed, your eyes are sore. You absolutely feel like shit.

The intruder continued their pace, before stopping in front of you. You hear a shuffling of legs, and something being set on your nightstand, until you feel a warm hand lay itself on the side of your left leg. They gave you a couple of soft pats.

From your position, you can’t really see who they are; you had a gut feeling that it was Wanda— but then again it can also be Nat. Or maybe even Steve.

Whoever it was, you know that they’re just trying their best to help, and you appreciate their concern, truly, but you just don’t think you’re capable of talking about something so close to your heart with someone else.

At least, not right now.

Except, you also know that they wouldn’t leave without any verbal cue, and so you force a smile, a truly fake and horrible one as you lift your head up to try and convince whoever it was who decided to check up on you that you’re fine, thanks, and that you just need some space— but as soon as your eyes focused on the person in front of you, your act drops, as the one who you expected the least stared back.

Before you can even ask him to leave, he beats you to it. “Here,” He says, getting up on his knees and retrieving the bottle of water that he had placed on your night stand. “Drink this.”

Wordlessly, you comply. The quench of the water on your tongue clearing your head, hydrating your body back.

Eyes glued to the carpet, unwilling to look anywhere else, you pass him back the glass. Bucky takes it and places it back to where he had originally put it.

He clears his throat. “Listen, Y/N… I— I know that we aren’t really… we aren’t really on the best of terms but— if you want to talk about it, I’m all open ears— but if you want me to leave and forget about this, I’ll head straight out the door.”

“I just—“ Bucky continues, and although your eyes were still fixating on the tufts of wool of your carpet, from the corner of your eye you could still see him shuffle awkwardly on his kneeling position. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. We all are.”

You… didn’t really know what to say.

Here Bucky was, a soldier, another person who had undergone through HYDRA’s torment, someone whose walls have since been taller then, a teammate who you respected but aren’t close to— hell, barely even really friends with; offering you comfort, a place to vent, a shoulder to let your head rest.

As much as you barely knew him, you feel a pull in you to let him stay.

Bucky, however, takes your silence as refusal. Your eyes catch his legs unfolding from their position, straightening out as he stands up. He doesn’t say anything else as he turns towards the door.

“No, wait—“ You croak, cringing mentally at your voice. Looks like the water didn’t do as well of a job as you thought did. Letting out a much needed sigh, you finally let your gaze strike his, and once it made contact, you saw him. Clearly.

His eyes are cloudy, concern evident in his features. His dark brows are furrowed, lips set in a straight line.

You muster up some courage, and whisper, “Stay.”

Bucky’s expression flickers for a moment, concern turning into total surprise for just a millisecond, and if you had more energy you would have maybe laughed— but you didn’t. Instead, you cast your eyes back to the floor as you hear him shuffle back to you.

He sits to your left, legs crossed, arm on his lap. He doesn’t say anything for a while, the sound of your breathing and his being the only sounds filling your bedroom for a few minutes.

It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence, some awkwardness from you both definitely seeping through... but nevertheless, your eyes start to get heavy.

Bucky, somehow sensing your current situation, clears his throat— effectively gaining your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his eyes.

“If you want… you can, you know…” He gestures to his right shoulder with his hand. He doesn’t continue his sentence, knowing that you had caught on to his proposition.

Too tired and sleepy to say no, you let out a breath and say fuck it.

You shuffle closer to his body, and as you lean your head down, a wave of fatigue washes over you. You hear Bucky inhale a breath as you finally drop, the left side of your face colliding with his shoulder.

As much as your body was pleading for you to simply close your eyes and just… rest— it still feels too awkward to do so. The silence is deafening, and as much as you appreciate Bucky lowering down his walls just a bit, you can’t help but let the next words tumble out of your mouth;

“What was it like in the ‘40s?”

You feel him stiffen beside you, and for a moment you worry that you had asked for more than you can chew, but within the next second Bucky lets out a small chuckle. He shakes his head slightly, a few strands of his freshly washed hair subsequently grazing over your face. It tickled.

“It was…” He starts, seemingly finding the proper words to say. “It was definitely a different time.” He concludes, sounding nostalgic and full of wistfulness.

His voice: deep and gravelly, began to lull you to sleep. You’ve never heard him quite like this before, often, his words were quick and precise and straight to the point. Never full of sentiment, never so… warm.

You want to hear more. So you hum in response, wanting to know more about his old life, urging him to go on— and go on he did.

He talked about the memories that Shuri had helped him remember from his time in Wakanda. His secret rendezvous, his childhood with Steve, their adventures and misadventures. He went on, his own memories making place in your own mind and pushing aside the ones that had you freezing up before. The ones that had broken you down are now being replaced by silly anecdotes, wistful memories and nonsensical stories.

Without even noticing it, you find yourself asleep on his shoulder, a small smile on your face as Bucky recounts another thought from the past.

You don’t know how long you had fallen asleep, but the crank in your neck was enough to tell you that it might have just been a bit too long. Your bottom aches, sore from the not so cozy flooring, and your back definitely needs to be stretched. Your body hurts, but at least your chest feels lighter.

You lift your head up from Bucky’s shoulder, feeling him flinch from your sudden movement. His head pulls back from its resting place on your wall. He looks back at you, confused.

He meets your eyes, and it seems that he had just woken up as well… had he fallen asleep too?

Bucky just continues gazing into your eyes, and you can’t help but just… stare back. Thankful for his comfort.

“I…” You whisper, about to thank him, until you remember the dessert that you had just hastily cast aside before bolting to your bedroom. “The leche flan!” You cry out, worried— fuck, if you leave it out for too long it could spoil!

Bucky, however, became even more confused at your outburst. You calm yourself down for a moment, letting out a sigh.

“My— uh, my dessert.” You explain, embarrassed. “It could spoil if I leave it out too long— I need to… I need to get back to it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen, thankfully understanding your dilemma, giving you a nod. So you lift your body up, stretching it just a bit, your bones popping themselves back into place.

You’re almost out of your door when you hear footsteps from behind and to no surprise you see Bucky, hair disheveled and lounge clothes wrinkled. You fight an urge to giggle. The all powerful soldier, looking all messy and drowsy... It’s definitely a sight to behold, maybe even a precious one at that.

He runs his hands through his hair, loosening his ponytail and settling his hair tie around his wrist with one hand. You try to ignore the way his fingers easily managed to do that. “If… I mean if you need a hand… I can— help?” He suggests, voice dropping to an unsure whisper by the end of his sentence.

You feel your mouth pull into a small smile, and this time, you let it do so. “Sure.”

So to the kitchen both of you went, a comfortable silence and understanding settling between you two. You quickly spot your metal mixing bowl from before, alone on the island counter. A relieved sigh falls from your lips as you peek an eye into the container to see the mixture untouched.

“So…” You start, grabbing the apron that you had thrown onto the counter in a fury. You don’t bother with getting a new one— it’s only slightly dirty, anyway. You put it on, tying it around your waist and patting it down slightly in less than a second. “Let’s get you an apron, shall we?”

You open the cabinet in which you keep the aprons and pick one up at random, giving it to Bucky with one hand— your back still turned away from him— as you use your other hand to close the door. When you turn back to face him, a complete look of hesitation is on his face.

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Bucky clears his throat. He looks up at you, and then at his arm, sheepishly. “Can you…?”

Eyes widening, you quickly nod, ashamed that you had forgotten about something so important. “Yes, of course.”

You walk to his side, grabbing the piece of cloth on his hand and positioning yourself behind him. “Here.” You say, grabbing the bib part and looping it around his neck. You brush his hair out of the way, inadvertently appreciating its softness, as the neck ribbon then lays itself properly against his neck. “Arms up.” You order, Bucky complying instantly. Taking the other two pieces of ribbon by his side, you wrap it around his waist and tie it by his back with a small little bow, tightening it just enough for it to not fall off but still be comfortable. “There.”

“Thanks.” He mutters, turning around to face you with a grateful smile, hair swishing as he did so. You smile, but then you realize that he should probably tie it just so that it won’t get dirty or in the way.

Before you know it, you ask him, “Want me to tie your hair, too?”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and upon realizing what you had just said too, your eyes did the same. Was that too much? You quickly open your mouth, desperately trying to apologize. “I’m just— it could get dirty or in the way if you don’t… and doing it with one hand must be…” You explain, inwardly cringing at your own words and not even trying to finish your statement.

Thankfully, Bucky quickly catches up to what you were trying to say. He flashes you a reassuring grin. “I would appreciate it, doll.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach at that little nickname.

Getting the hair tie from his wrist, you desperately ignore the way your hands brushed against his. You angle your body towards his back once more, raking your hands softly in his hair, grabbing it gently and putting it into a comfortable ponytail.

“Thanks again,” He turns around to face you, gratitude clear in his eyes. You just smile back at him, feeling the heat creep up to your face. Thank God your skin doesn’t easily show colour.

You had never been this close to him before— and the bedroom incident (You had decided to label that... ’moment’ in your mind like that as of right now.) just a few minutes ago didn’t quite count as you weren’t looking at him, nor were you a hundred percent conscious during that encounter.

Before things get even more awkward, you quickly turn your body back to the kitchen island. “Well then— let’s continue with this, shall we?” You announce, wanting to just calm your feverishly beating heart and the rise of heat in your cheeks. Maybe agreeing to let him bake with you isn’t as good of an idea as you had thought.

Bucky just gave a hum as a response, and so you went about and explained to him each and every step that needed to be done. Thankfully, you had already finished mixing up the batter, and so now all you really had to do was heat up the sugar, pour the batter into the moulds, and then steam it all up. Just three more steps and you’re done.

“So,” You start, grabbing the metal containers that you had already pulled out from the cabinets before you had started. “This—” You lift one up, pointing at it with your index. “Is called a llanera. What we’re basically going to do is pour some sugar in it, heat that up until it’s nice and brown and syrup-y, and then we add the batter. Got it?”

“A yah-neh-rah?” Bucky asks, rolling the word over his tongue, getting the feel of it. You smile at his well-executed attempt.

“Yep,” You reply, placing the mould down onto the counter. You grab the sugar jar and a tablespoon, dipping it into the container and sprinkling a generous amount all over the metal container. “Actually— I’ll heat up the sugar and then you can pour the batter in, that sound good to you?”

Bucky just gave a hum once more, signalling his approval of your plan.

After about two tablespoons, you put it aside and walked towards the stove top, Bucky following beside you in earnest with the metal bowl containing the egg mixture in his arm. Turning the dial up, you put on an oven mitt as you wait for the range to get hot enough; and once it does, you hold the metal tin a few centimetres away from the top of the burner. Within minutes, the sugar caramelizes, turning into the familiar, brown syrup.

The scent that then fills the kitchen is heavenly, pure sugar wafting through the air. You hear Bucky sniff, and you let out a smile, happy that he liked it too.

You place the hot tin onto a cooling rack. “Your time to shine.” You smile up at Bucky, motioning for him to go ahead and pour the batter in.

With a gentle and cautious hand, Bucky slowly tilts the bowl into the mould, the creamy mixture pouring itself out. After a few seconds, you say, “Okay… that’s good— you can stop now.” He swiftly follows your instruction, stopping when there‘s only 2 or more so centimetres left in the pan before the batter touches the rim. He looks up at you, expectant.

Before you know it, the thought passes by your mind. How cute.

Biting your lip, you set aside the flutter in your stomach. You give him a huge grin. “That was great,” You praise him, genuine pride rushing through you. “Now let’s finish the other ones, shall we?”

Bucky and you then continued on, filling the rest of the llaneras up. It was a pleasant experience, discomfort and awkwardness not present at all while both of you worked on your respective tasks. It was… soothing, you could say.

“Nice!” You cheer, clapping your hands together as Bucky finishes filing the last of the moulds, setting down the empty metal bowl in the sink right after. “Now, let’s cover it with aluminium foil and then we can steam it and eat it.” You grin up at Bucky, who simply nods back at you.

You grab the aluminum foil, eyeballing the sizes for each of the containers. It doesn’t really matter anyway, they just had to be big enough to cover the pans. Within a few, quick minutes, all of the llaneras were ready to be steamed.

Opening up the steamer, you place three of the moulds in— mentally telling yourself that you should ask Tony to buy more steamers so that you can simply just cook the next batch of leche flans all at once. You then close the handle, setting it on medium heat and the self timer on. “There.” You announce, hands unintentionally going to and resting at your hips, proud.

You face Bucky, who seem to be just as proud as you are. It seems like he had something on his mind, though, and so you tilt your head. Curious. “Something on your mind?” You ask.

He hums, hand going back to scratch the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…” He starts, giving you a reassuring smile to show you that he meant it. “But… how’d you learn how to bake?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his question, caught off guard as the answer flashes in your mind. To say you were surprised was an understatement. You had assumed that he would ask you when the leche flan would be finished— not about your… past.

Though, you figure that he deserves to know about your history, now that you basically know all about his own. He had recounted his entire life to you just an hour or two ago, after all. It’s only appropriate that you share some of your own life with him back.

You let your hands fall from your waist, resting them in front of your stomach as you fiddled with them as you compose your answer. “Well—“ You start, taking a deep breath. Bucky, patiently, urges for you to go on with a small nod. “I don’t— I don’t really remember much from my past… just a few memories here and there.” You take a pause.

“But— there had always been this one memory, which… always stood out from the rest.” You bite your lower lip, the recollection taking place in your mind, making you smile. “I was in my lola’s— my grandma’s kitchen, dough in my hand and flour everywhere and we were—“ You feel your throat tightening up, making you take another pause. Bucky, still as patient as ever, gives you a small smile and wordlessly urges for you to go on. “We were making pandesal… a type of bread…” You continue, smiling, remembering the sticky hands and the rays of the hot southeast sun passing by the blinds. “It was a calm afternoon… just me and her, baking...”

“That’s all I really remember of her, and so I… every time I feel overwhelmed or every time I’m having a bad day I just— bake.” You conclude, looking up at him. There was more to the story, more that you have yet to tell him, memories that are still hard to share; but even with the small piece of it leaving your chest, your whole body feels lighter, grateful for having been listened to.

Bucky just stares back at you, respect evident on his face, a small smile still on his lips. “I’m… thankful that you shared that with me, Y/N.” He says, and as your name rolls off his tongue, you can’t help but smile back.

You were about to say something, but the moment was cut off by the steamer's angry beeping. You let out a small giggle as you see Bucky flinch. “Well— let’s check up on those lil’ things, shall we?”

Opening up the steamer and waving the steam away from your face, your mouth waters at the sight before you. They looked perfect.

Quickly grabbing a serving plate, you take one of the tins out and place it upside down on the ceramic— it would probably be even better if you let it cool down first in the fridge, but you can hardly wait. You give it a couple of taps, stopping once you hear the familiar ‘plop’ sound.

You take off the llanera, and a pristine and perfect looking leche flan greets you back. You hear Bucky hum in approval beside you as you take out a fork, getting a slice. Turning to your side and raising the utensil up at him, you ignore the slowly rising heartbeat in your rib cage as you muster up the courage to say, “Want the first bite?”

Bucky seemed to be taken aback at first, and for a moment you fret that you might have overestimated and overstepped your boundaries, but a small nod from him eases your worry. Lifting it up to his mouth, he lets you give him the slice. You decide to ignore the intimacy of the moment, as is the heat in your cheeks; instead focusing on his expression.

He doesn’t show nor say anything at first; and you furrow your eyebrows. Was it too sweet for his taste? Had you accidentally let some egg whites mix in with the yolks?

Before you have the chance to ask him what he thought of it, Bucky swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his lips curled into a huge grin. “Damn... that’s really good Y/N.”

Relief rushing through you at his approval, you laugh, happy that he likes it. Not wasting another second, you open your mouth and give yourself your own slice; savouring the creaminess and sweetness of the desert. It tasted heavenly.

Looking back at Bucky, you startle yourself out of your sweet paradise as he stared back at you. Light blue— almost cerulean— eyes gazing back into yours.

“Thank you.” were the only words out of his mouth, but that still didn’t stop your heart from fastening it’s pace nor the butterflies from welcoming themselves into your stomach.

His deep and raspy voice clearly enunciated every single emotion, and you know, deep in your heart, that he wasn’t just talking about the dessert.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling, as you say, “You’re welcome.”

#lily’s lil’ stories #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x you #poc reader #poc!reader #filipina reader #filipina!reader #this was very self indulgent haha oops #also might do a sequel to explain readers past...... so look out for that;)#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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harryglom · 4 years

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UNORTHODOX- The Price of Freedom

(Spoilers for the entire mini series Unorthodox)

Unorthodox is a very conventional story and also an unprecedented one.

It is at its core a coming of age story, a fish out of water story, a marriage story and a drama about finding a meaningful life. However it is also the first high-budget mainstream exploration of the lives of members of the ultra-orthodox Jewish community. It gives voice to a woman, and in-turn many women like her, who have never been seen or heard from in mainstream media. We are party to the self discovery of a woman who has had too much expected of her from God, her community and herself. She escapes to Berlin from New York, running away from a life without freedom to a liberal metropolis resting atop a historic centre of Jewish hatred, the regime her own grandparents had escaped from. The show refuses to give easy answers, happy endings or tragic melodrama: we are witness to a single part of Esty's story and in it we see her begin to assert power in her life or, at the very least, recognise she has more power over it than she had previously thought.

Esty's journey is shown in two timelines: her time in Williamsburg transitioning into a marriage with the well-meaning Yankee whilst under the watchful eye of the community and her time in Berlin, having befriended a group of liberal musicians who help her to adjust to the outside world. The scenes themselves are often matter of fact but the depth of the performances, the pacing, cinematography and music create an atmosphere that allows its naturalism to transcend into more than a slice of life drama. Berlin is distilled into its most outlandish: bars spill out onto the streets, clubs are loud and full of smoke, coffee shops are alien and austere, concert halls are modern and bright, fashion is extraneous, flesh is bared and squares are packed full of men and women from all walks of life. We can sympathise with Esty if her curiosity blooms or she gets overwhelmed by this modern world due to the sheer vividness of the city the show brings to life.

Between these frames, for most of the run-time, stands our protagonist: Esty Shapiro. Her world view is communicated quietly, often silently, in the way her eyes interact with the world around her. The subtlety of her characterisation is married with the movement of the camera: when Esty is stressed or determined we follow her closely, the outside world blurred into insignificance whilst when she chooses to observe the world, time is taken to pick up the sort of details she would also be acknowledging. From the smaller moments, like noting the strangeness of night club wrist stamps and the initial starkness of seeing queer intimacy shown in front of her without shame, or grander changes, like naked bodies at the beach or the beauty of an orchestra operating as a single organism-- the camera and Esty are unified. This makes us intimately aware of who she is, how much this experience means to her and, thanks to the flashbacks, how much she fights to be the person we see in front of us.

The behaviour of the Ultra-Orthodox community is realised with unflinching realism. Where lesser dramas would have made moralistic tales about any number of the themes touched upon-- post-Holocaust guilt, cultural trauma, matchmaking and arranged marriages, gossip and pride, gender roles, alcoholism and gambling addiction within the community, the relationship of the community to other Jewish streams and Israel, the tactics deployed to control the community and alienate those who do successfully escape-- they are explored as they would be experienced. These are all just parts of people's lives: they're presented anecdotally, matter-of-factly and, because of the pressures of the community to appear perfect, suppressed from being discussed explicitly. The most frank exploration of a single issue is in the third episode, arguably the show's best, where the story uses both timelines to interrogate and reclaim female sexuality. This may sound like hyperbole, but the rigidity and oppression of sexual norms, the objectification of Esty's body that is enforced by both men and women alike, recalls The Handmaid's Tale at its worse and it is abominable that any woman should live as deprived of information, emotional support or the right to consent. Even when Esty quotes the Talmud, that textually demands of men the pleasuring of women, Yankee simply says that women shouldn't read the Talmud. The frustration, ignorance and pain is expressed viscerally and uncomfortably.

Yet, in another way that recalls The Handmaid's Tale, the Berlin timeline adopts a very tactile filming style and direction that allows us to empathise with a point of view that has become more appreciative for what they've been denied: where desire cannot be stated frankly, where the language to invite affection is alien and bodies are beautiful and mysterious. This episode shows this reclamation of sexuality juxtaposed with the reveal of the moment Esty decides to pursue her freedom at all. With very few words at all, having withheld her thoughts from the blinded Yanky, she stands alone in a corridor and we know exactly what she is thinking. The catalyst for Esty running away is not the sexual imprisonment, the absolute lack of connection or personability with anyone around her nor the restrictions put upon her pursuing her passions but Yanky's demand for a divorce. It symbolises a multifaceted betrayal of her faith, her body, her dignity and, ultimately, every sacrifice she made for them. This triggers a single disillusionment that makes Esty's story possible: that this is no place for her child to grow up. This profound moment rests upon an incredibly moving performance and a script brimming full of understated depth.

The show should also be praised for some of its peripheral characters. Yanky is not a typical brute but a devout, vulnerable and lost little boy. Esty's aunt is as much an Orthodox woman as she is a fighter for her family's dignity. Moshe is no two dimensional villain but a man who played his hand at life beyond the walls of the community and lost. However the character most deserved of praise is that of Yael, an Israeli born music student at the conservatory Esty auditions for. She, as an Israeli-born Jew, takes Esty's experiences for granted, diminishes her community's felt Holocaust guilt, laments to her non-Jewish friends with uncaring abandon the terrifying reality of Esty's own life and calls her a baby machine. She represents a subtle nuance never before explored on television: that the wider Jewish community, for thinking they know about people like Esty and for wanting to distance themselves from being identified with that kind of Judaism, can actually be their most harsh and inconsiderate critics.

One character that could have done with more development is that of Esty's mother. Though portrayed to perfection, balancing a calm earnestness with a hidden maternal strength, there is not enough time to open her life up in the way it could have been. Queerness is visible in the show. There are two out gay couples, including one that Esty's mother is a part of. It feels strange that there is no articulation in either timeline of the homophobia that must have driven Esty's mother from the community but also the opinions that would be residual in Esty, having never been exposed to gay people in her life. Whilst the deftness with which some issues are taken as they are is admirable, this seems like a topic that would have invited a conversation between mother and daughter or, at the very least, Esty and anyone in her group of friends.

Regardless of any shortcomings, Unorthodox is a series that will stick with you for a long time. It offers a unique perspective of the modern world from the point of view of someone who has been locked away from it. Partly a modern-day fairy tale where modern life becomes a wonderland and partly the harrowing struggle of an outsider to find freedom. The series cements the success of its story with the ambiguity of its ending. We don't know how Esty will deal with motherhood, whether she will get her scholarship, how she will react to her grandmother's death, how she will fight against the community's attempts to intimidate her out of her child's life. The viewer and Esty have discovered the world together. She has friends and her mother on her side. We've seen her grow into a fighter and recognise, alone in a cafe with a quiet smile, that no price is too high for her freedom.

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years

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On The Lord of the Rings Movies

I have very mixed feelings on on Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings movies.

On the one hand, the amount of knowledge and thought and work and love that went into these movies is absolutely phenomenal. The settings, the costumes, the props, the casting, are all pretty much perfect, and unbelievably detailed, and it’s very clear that many of the people who worked on them were passionate Tolkien fans. In terms of all the visuals, they’ve done an amazing job of bringing Tolkien’s world to life, and that’s something we would never have without them.

On top of that, there’s the music. It’s really impossible to be effusive enough about Howard Shore’s score. Everything about it feels like the books. The strength and complexity of the leitmotifs and the way they’re varied according to a scene’s mood, and the emotional power of them - it’s an absolute masterpiece.

(It makes me want a Silmarillion adaptation just so he could score it. Can you imagine the music for the Return of the Noldor? Starting off the Fëanor’s theme, something really powerful and inspirational, and then gradually weaving elements of Morgoth’s theme into it, subtly at the first to the point that it’s not consciously noticed, but growing from Tirion to Alqualondë to Losgar and pulling the audience along on the same emotional journey as the Noldor, where you start with fire and passion and drive and purpose and are left with ash and shock and regrets.)

The acting, too, is exceptional, especially from the main cast, and the amount of work and dedication and passion they brought to it is staggering. And that’s before even getting into the roles of the size doubles and all the massive production challenges concerned with that, which they managed so seamlessly that it’s not even noticeable in the final product.

Most of the changes that they made, I can understand, even when I don’t like them. They mainly flow from two cinematic needs: streamlining, and emphasizing.

Streamlining means removing what they need to (Bombadil, the Scouring of the Shire) in order to fit the plot into three movies that function effectively as cinema. I love the Scouring of the Shire, but the book of ROTK is one-third denoument, with the climax squarely in the middle, tryung to write the third movie of a trilogy in that way and have it be effective would be extraordinarily difficult. This is also why we ger Elves at Helm’s Deep - the film doesn’t have appendices to mention the Battles of Lórien, so this change means the audience doesn’t feel the Elves are inactive in the conflict.

Emphasizing means, mainly, that conflicts are strengthened. The Council of Elrond goes from an information-sharing meeting with some mild disagreement to a shouting match; the Ents intially refuse to act, and the Entmoot is treated as frustrating delay rather than meaningful consideration; possible divisions between Rohan and Gondar are played up; and, most-criticized, Faramir and Denethor’s characters are seriously modified. All of this heightens the audience’s sense of crisis. The change to Faramir emphasizes the danger and power of the Ring more than would be the case if only Boromir, Gollum and Frodo were seriously tempted. Denethor is written as being wrong, in blth the books and movies, but the movies have less time and focus to devote to a side character when so many other character and plot arcs are going on. (The changes to Elrond’s character are made for similar reasons.) I don’t like all these changes, and I think some of them could have bern done differently and better, but I do see understandable reasons behind them.

But the one thing I cannot get past is that they changed the scene on the Steps of Cirith Ungol, one of the most beautiful and emotional and tragic scenes in the entire book, and flipped it on its head. Jackson’s view for ROTK that Frodo trusted Gollum due to the malign influence of the Ring, and that Gollum was unreachable at that point, is a misunderstanding of the most crucial themes of the books. Frodo knew Gollum might betray them; he followed him anyway because they had few options and because he understood Gollum as no one else did; Gollum did care for Frodo to the extent that he was still capable of caring about anyone; and showing mercy and compassion to Gollum was not a mistake, it was the right action on which the success of the entire Quest ultimately hung. There was never any possibility of Frodo sending Sam away, or of Sam leaving him. The scene and the whole plot around it hinges not just on a deep misunderstanding of all three characters, but a deep misunderstanding of the moral core of the entire story.

This is why I can rewatch the first two movies and enjoy many parts of them, but I can rarely get through a rewatch of ROTK.

My acceptance of variation in adaptations and fanworks of Tolkien’s writings has gone way up since I discovered the online Tolkien fandom in the last few years. It’s all sub-creation in its own way. And the movies give us many wonderful things that we would never have had without them (Howard Shore’s score! the imagery of the Shire! Khazad-dum! Ian McKellan’s Gandalf!).

But ROTK in particular made me feel that Jackson had captured all of the external details of the book, and lost their soul.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings movies #frodo #sam #gollum

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powermaknae · 4 years

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In the Dark Part 2

Incubus! Yuta x Witch! Lily

Yuta leaves a life of wild partying and long nights to be with Lily, a witch with growing power.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Word Count- 2.7K~

~Fantasy!au, sexual themes, some angst, blood play, power complex, choking(not a lot), alcohol

A/N: This one is a little shorter but its fiiiine. There’s a bit more Doyoung, less Johnny, and more Lily than Yuta. And I kind of set it up weird so I had to rethink how I was gonna write it, but here ya go, part 2 is up and running. Part 3 is on its way.

She was shaken awake by a familiar figure dawned in black cotton. His kind face was such a sight for sore eyes.

“Doyoung, what’re you doing here?” Lily was so excited to see him after so long.

“Johnny called me after he brought you home. He said you were with someone.” His expression changed as he watched her nose scrunch at the thought of last night.

“Wait. What happened?” Her head was pounding. She felt dehydrated and starved in the dimly lit room covered in the grey of approaching storm clouds.

“All I know is that Johnny had said you’d gone to see him yesterday and he followed you and another man to a club, where you passed out. He brought you here and called me. Lily, what were you doing?” His words were slow and his voice was filled with concern for his younger sister. She was the only other sibling he had, and he cherished her deeply.

“I- It was kind of hectic. Doyoung, I found something. I went to see Johnny for information, but there was something else.” Her voice trailed off as she looked for comfort in her brother’s big eyes. “The Book of Spells, it called to me…”

Doyoung eyes grew wide at the statement. He was much wiser than her and had studies the history of witchcraft. He knew what it meant to be called upon by this book.

His reaction made her nervous. She only knew the book from the stories.

“Lily, this means something far greater than you or me. Father died trying to protect us from it, but it was too powerful. I don’t know why it would call to you, but it is extremely dangerous.”

They sat in silence for a moment, considering each other’s words.

“Who is he?” Doyoung broke the silence with a soft, barely audible voice.

“I don’t know yet. That’s why we went to see Johnny.” Lily didn’t want to give Yuta away, knowing Johnny couldn’t tell what he was. He was her secret, for now. At least until she had some more answers.

“How about we go get breakfast and catch up? It’s on me.” It had been years since Lily had seen her brother. He was always busy with studies and working to become a healer like their parents so he could take over the family business. She nodded, shifting to get out of the soft bed.

They left in Doyoung’s sweet little Toyota Avalon, and arrived at a nearby coffee shop, only three blocks away from Yuta’s apartment building.

The two of them shared the neutral space, sipping their tea and chatting. Lily suddenly felt a vibration in the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out her phone with swift grace, to check the notification. It was a message from an unknown number reading:

Hey, princess. Meet me at 2pm behind the convenience store on 10th. ~Y

She checked the time at the top of the screen. 1:46. She glanced back up to her brother who was watching as civilians passed the window. “I should probably get going. I have some shopping to do in town.” She stated rather plainly.

Doyoung was concerned for her safety. He had noticed that the energy in her house had been tampered with recently and he felt reluctant to leave her with no protection.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I could take some time from work and stay for a few days.” He was genuinely concerned.

“I’m alright. I’ll call you if I find anything knew, ok? You don’t have to worry about me.” He nodded in hesitant approval, standing from the wooden chair.

“Thanks for breakfast.” They shared a large embrace before parting outside the front door. Lily pulled out her phone once more before taking off to the meeting spot.

On my way now. Was all she replied before making her way behind the convenience store. There she found Yuta leaning up against the concrete wall, looking absolutely stunning in a dark printed button up tucked into the front of his white pants.

The sight of him sparked a sudden fury inside her. She hadn’t heard from him since she fell unconscious the night before. She stomped towards his taller figure and gave him a good shove with more force than she intended.

“What the hell happened?! Did you fucking drug me?!” She spat in his face.

“Hey hey, it wasn’t me. I don’t know but when I came back, you were unconscious on the stairs.” His tone was sincere and calm as he threw his hands in the air in surrender.

“Then why did Johnny bring me home??” “I spotted him in the club and he helped me get you home.” Her tense body softened, understanding what had really happened. She wasn’t used to using this much magic, and it had taken its toll on her body.

“So why am I here, then?” She was still defensive with him, but less aggressive as she backed away to a safe distance.

“I did some research of my own.” His words had peaked her attention.

“There is a spell known as the protector, an extraordinarily strong force that protects a living soul from forces of evil. It can only be placed by a being of magic equivalent to that of a god and is found in the ‘Book of Spells’.” Lily’s eyes grew large when he spoke the air quotes around the title.

This explained everything. The spell must have been traded for her father’s life. That is the only fair trade for a spell of that magnitude. He risked his life to protect her.

Lily was no ordinary witch and she certainly wasn't a healer; she had become well aware of that. Something about this didn’t feel right. She never wanted protection, especially if that meant Yuta could never touch her. She wished she’d had the decision to herself, to be free to pick a side or not. Her expression grew dark and solemn as she pondered the idea of her freedom.

Lily’s father was never viewed as a hero. Many who were familiar with the Unspoken War only referred to him as a traitor, giving into the dark magic that had consumed their world. He did sacrifice himself, but he was not a soldier or a great power fighting to protect the world. Lily looked down on his memory thinking that he was just a silly fool for giving in so easily.

She was nothing like him. She didn’t carry his features or personality; she was an oddity to her family. Doyoung was the golden child, but he would fight for her in a heartbeat. She simply didn’t belong in that world.

She was snapped out of her headspace by a swift snap of Yuta’s fingers. “You alright there? I know it’s kind of a lot, but can you make any sense out of it?”

“Yeah, it makes a lot of sense actually.”

“So, what do we do now?” Yuta was completely lost, not following Lily’s thought process.

“I need to go back to the vault. If that book has the spell in it, it can surely tell me how to remove it.” It was a lot to consider. This spell could have easily been keeping her alive for all these years, but she also knew that if she were to turn dark, it would tear her apart.

“Are you sure you want to remove it? I don’t know if I could control myself.” Lily rolled her eyes at his seductive demeaner and walked toward the opening leading back to the street, gaining her bearings, and shifting to the left, heading down the sidewalk at a purposeful pace. Yuta caught up with ease, his long legs allowing a larger stride.

They arrived at the small entrance to find that the room behind the door was dim. Johnny wasn’t there. He was always there, day or night. Odd.

Lily brushed it off, gripping the knob of the door tightly, watching it glow in her grasp. It swung open in a gust of wind.

“Nice going but don’t you still need the key?” Yuta’s voice was smug as it echoed through the empty space.

“Johnny is always here. He hardly ever leaves this place in case people like me need his help in the night. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left the key behind the counter.” And just like that, she grabbed it from under the countertop, where it hung from a miniscule hook.

The glow of light in the staircase wasn’t nearly as bright as it had been the day before. It was more of an eerie ambiance as they descended. The room felt larger to Lily, as if it had been expanded by a few square feet, but still bustling with energy.

She paused after stepping under the archway, closing her eyes and taking in everything she could. She took a single step and was startled as the Book of Spells slammed into her chest, knocking her slightly off balance. Yuta put out his arms to brace her, but his effort was in vain.

Lily spent no time looking for other books today. Everything she needed was concealed behind the cover of this dangerous entity. She just had to figure out how to open it and her power would be free.

She placed her palm over the cover where the lock was glowing bright. It felt like every action she was making was from another being, like the book was taking over her body, telling her how to open it.

She closed her eyes, directing her energy through her palm. A strong wind swept through to open space, flipping loose pages and blowing her hair around her face. Lily’s ears were filled with noise, objects, howling, voices, all calling to her.

To Yuta, the room was still. He watched as Lily’s feet had been picked up off the ground. He remained still, knowing not to disturb the inner powers of Lily’s mind.

The voices grew louder, and her hand grew heavy on the rough surface. In a low soft growl, she could make out, “No~ Turning~ Back~.” And “It~ Can~ Only~ Be~ You~.” The voices were ominous and, frankly, frightening. But she was not compelled to pull her hand away. She held it there and endured.

The voices continued to grow, morphing into a much clearer, high pitched snarl, until finally, they came together in a booming screech, warning “BALANCE IS KEY!” followed by a piecing “DEATH IS CURTAIN!”

She landed like a cat on the floor, on the balls of her feet, still in a state of shock, but holding the book with strength she wasn’t aware of. Yuta jumped as a shockwave rippled from the middle of the floor.

“What was that all about?” Lily was silent, trying her best to collect her thoughts and make sense of what she just experienced. Yuta now filled with questions, was the only voice in the room.

“What just happened? Did you figure out how to unlock it? What do we do now?” he prodded.

Lily opened her eyes slowly, looking immediately down to her hand. A glowing blue mark was left where she had placed it on the lock. It burned in her palm, radiating inflammation. The lock no longer shined against the leather cover. A notch had been released as it swung freely against its home.

A dull ache formed against her skull as the toll of magic set in. “I’ll meet you upstairs. I just need a minute.” She held her head low as her voice came out a little weaker than she’d intended.

Yuta disappeared in a flash leaving her in an empty room. Her inflamed palm was starting to deescalate, turning the flesh a darker shade and leaving a permanent mark. She could feel the book’s power, even as she held it at a distance.

Her mind was almost hazy with all the energy of the room mixed with her own emotions. It made her dizzy, but her judgement was clear. This book was not going to let her leave without it again.

She reached for her bag, unzipping it and placing the book right down the middle, candy wrappers crunching underneath it. Johnny wasn’t there so who would know. Besides, this book had chosen her, clamed her, compelled her to take it.

The store was quiet, still dark as before. She carefully locked the cupboard door and placed the key back in its exact resting place as she looked around for any sign of Yuta. Where had he gone.

PING.

I’m outside when you’re ready.

His unworldly speed was surely an advantage. He sat in his luxury vehicle, waiting promptly for her company. The scent of death was less prominent as Lily sat in the familiar passenger seat. She noticed a new decoration around his rearview mirror- A stick of cinnamon.

“Where are we off to now, princess.” “Can you just drop me off at home?”

His face shifted to a concerned look.

“Are you sure you’re ok? What exactly happened?” His voice was soft and sweat.

“I don’t exactly know yet. I need some time to… figure some things out.” She was avoided contact at all costs now. Something had changed when she held that book, and she was unsure of what it would bring. “Balance is key,” “Death is certain.” What did they mean?

They were silent. Yuta didn’t prod. He was more worried about her than anything. Lily noted that his driving had improved, less weaving around other cars. He almost seemed not quite himself.

She watched the sidewalks full of busy people through her window as they drove. Every once in a while, she would spot a miscellaneous bystander at the cross walk or bus stop and she would get the sense that they were watching her, following her every move.

When they arrived, the colors of the flowers seemed less than impressive. The aura around the house was dull. Not even the windchimes danced. All was simply quiet.

Yuta was the first to break the silence as she pulled the lever to open the car door.

“Hey, Lily.” She turned around in her seat to face him.

“I’m sorry about last night. If it’s any consolation, I had a lot of fun.” The truth was, he had never experienced something so invigorating in his time in the city. “I’ll be out, again, if you ever want to join me." He smirked to himself, but his tone was sincere.

“Thank you,” was all she said before straightening her back as she rose from the vehicle.

Inside, all was quiet, nothing was out of place. It almost seemed unusually ordinary, for a witch’s residence. She took the time to replace some of the suspended spices and water her flowers with mint water before sitting down and pulling out the burden in her bag.

She placed it on the coffee table in front of her, staring at it, willing it to tell her what to do with it.

The lock had repositioned itself into a state of security but was not anywhere nearly as difficult to open. All Lily had to do was wave her hand over the cover and the notch would appear with a CLICK.

Small droplets bounced against the dusty windows all around her as the sky grew darker with every pitter patter. She removed the lock completely, setting it next to the cover. As if a gust of wind had entered through a cracked window, the pages rustle and settled on a spell. The Protector.

The ink was smudged on the page. She barely had time to read it before the letters started moving, forming new words right in front of her.

We’ve done you a favor. Now it’s time to pay it back.

The pages rustled again to a different page among the last few. The Dark Soul.

The feeling that was growing in her stomach felt unnatural. She had only every felt it the night she ran away. It was unnerving.

Only beings of great power may behold. If the book has chosen you, read no further, for you bear the mark of darkness. Use the power you will come to embody with great care.

In red splatters along the bottom wrote, THE WORLD MUST ALWAYS BE IN BALANCE.

Then the cover slammed shut, startling the witch, and relocked itself on the small table.

“Now, I suppose I wait,” She murmured to herself, watching the rain pick up covering her windows in a sheet of water.

#big brother doyoung #Incubus #incubusyuta #nctx #nct fanfic #nct fantasy au #Yuta #nct yuta #witches #fantasy #nct doyoung #nct johnny #demons #dark magic #book of spells #the protector #lilybennett #oc

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mamthew · 4 years

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A Final Fantasy Ranking

Over the course of the quarantine, and because I had such a good time with the Final Fantasy VII Remake, I've ended up blazing through a ton of Final Fantasy games. Since April, I've played IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XII, and XIII. 6, 7, 9, and 10 I'd beaten before. 4, 12, and 13 I'd played to some capacity before. 5 and 8 were completely new experiences. I had no interest in going further back than IV, since it was the first one to really put any effort into character work, and I didn't play either MMO because MMOs don't really appeal to me (I'm planning to try XIV whenever this new update drops that makes the story mode more accessible, but it keeps getting pushed back so oh well). I also didn't replay XV because I've played XV three times and watched other people play it in its entirety twice, so I have a much better handle on it than any other game in the series.

Anyway, I didn't really have any plans for what I'd do with this, besides get a better understanding of the series as a whole, but I was kinda inspired to do my own Final Fantasy ranking. I'll probably be a bit more detailed than I should be because I tend to overanalyze my media and end up having too much to say. I’m actually not placing VII Remake in this ranking half because I regard it as a spinoff and half because it’s not yet a complete story, even though Part 1 is unquestionably a complete game. If I were to put it somewhere, it would probably be close to the top, possibly even in second place. Also worth noting that this is gonna have SPOILERS for every game I discuss here. I really just wanna use this as a place to nail down some of my thoughts on these games, so they’re pretty stream of consciousness and I didn’t bother avoiding any details from the plots.

10: Final Fantasy VIII.

I don’t think there’s another game in the series with a more obvious corporate hand in it than VIII. It’s kinda the Fant4stic of FF games; there are the bones of a substantive game in there somewhere, but every aspect of the game is such a bald attempt at checking off a 1999 list of “things gamers want” that the whole affair feels hollow and sickening. A major trend I’ve noticed throughout this series is the extent to which FFVII’s success pushed the architects of almost every subsequent game to try to recapture whatever it was that worked about VII, and VIII got the worst of it. It’s got the sullen guy with a special sword. It’s got the sci-fi. It’s got the terrorists with hearts of gold fighting against an oppressive state. It’s got the train scenes. It’s got the case(s) of amnesia that hides the true premise of the story. It’s got the ability to give any character any loadout.

Besides that, they kinda crammed in just a bunch of stuff popular with kids at the time. Jurassic Park? It’s in there. Beauty and the Beast? Here’s the ballroom scene. Hunchback of Notre Dame? Here’s that carnival. Alien? Now you’re alone on a spaceship running away from a horror monster. Saving Private Ryan? The party shares brains with war veterans and dreams of their experiences at war I guess. Half of anime? It’s all about a high school for mercenaries and the party is trying to get back in time for the school festival. Fandom culture? Zines are a collectible item, and each one you find adds an update to Selphie's Geocities page. It also has astronauts, and transformers, and a haunted castle, and a prison break, and Rome, and Alpine Wakanda, and war crimes, and lion cubs that have attained enlightenment, and there’s almost no connective tissue from one idea to the next.

Also the junction system is convoluted and terrible, using magic makes your stats worse, all enemies level up every time you do, and I couldn’t tell you which character excelled in what stats. The characters were all very flat, and the first time I felt like I was seeing the characters interact in ways that helped me to understand them was in the cutscene that plays during the end credits.

Also the female lead’s role in the story changes entirely with no warning every five hours or so. She’s a terrorist, oh no she’s aristocracy in the country she’s terroristing against, oh no she’s jealous of the others because they grew up together and she didn’t, oh no she’s Sandra Bullock in Gravity, oh no she’s the villain and it’s too dangerous to let her out, oh no it’s actually fine and they were bad for locking her up.

It’s an absolute disaster of a game. However, the music and background art is absolutely beautiful. Maybe they never gave me a good enough reason to be in an evil time traveling haunted castle, but damn is it a gorgeous rendering of an evil time traveling haunted castle.

9: Final Fantasy XII.

I’ve known for years that FFXII had issues in development. The writers came up with a story for it, and execs got scared because there were no young characters and they’d convinced themselves that young protagonists are what makes games sell. So two more characters - Vaan and Penelo - were added, one was framed as the protagonist of the story, and the entire story was rewritten so it could feasibly be from his perspective.

While the two characters they added are egregiously tangential to the plot, XII honestly has no protagonist. The writers originally wanted Basch to be the protagonist, but his entire arc is really just following Ashe around and being sad about his evil twin. Ashe is probably the most important to the story, but doesn’t have much presence for a good chunk of the story, and makes her most character-defining choice offscreen before having it stolen from her by a side character. Balthier has the largest presence in the story, and is most closely related to most of the events of the story, but has pretty much no role in the ending.

Honestly, if I were writing FFXII and told it needed a young protagonist, I would have aged up and expanded the role of Larsa, the brother of the main villain, who shows up as a temporary party member from time to time. The entire game is about family ties, and a journey spotlighting Larsa could have involved his learning about Ashe, Basch, Balthier and Fran’s family situations and using their experiences to grapple with his own. Damn, now I’m sitting here thinking about how good that could have been.

As it is, the game feels disjointed and aimless, and the ending is so bad it’s farcical. When I reached the ending, I watched Basch and Ashe forgive Basch’s evil twin for his villainy rampage, harking back to the moment earlier in the game when Ashe turned down the chance to gain powers that would have allowed her to avenge her country because she realized that those powers could also drive her to hurt innocents in the crossfire. In this moment, I realized how Vaan fit in as the protagonist of the game. “Oh, he’s going to realize that violence begets violence, and that he must break the cycle by forgiving Vayne for the death of his brother. He’s going to let go of that hatred he’s been trying to push onto someone for so long, and it’ll finally allow him to heal.” I realized that even though the road to this point was rocky, the writers had managed to craft a satisfying ending from the seemingly disparate pieces of this uneven plot.

And then Vaan picked up a sword and screamed AAAAAAAAAAA and charged Vayne down and stabbed him, and Vayne turned into a shrapnel robot dragon and exploded all the star wars ships and I threw my controller aside and laughed uncontrollably while my characters beat him up and completed the game on their own without any further input from me.

Oh yeah, the battle system is also incredibly boring. Instead of battling, the player writes up an AI script for each character, then lets them act based on those scripts. I would straight up put the controller down and watch youtube videos whenever a group of enemies showed up. I was pretty excited about the job system, but then there didn’t really feel like much of a difference between jobs, and my characters all behaved pretty much the same as each other.

The hands-off battle system, unfocused story, lethargic voice acting, and tuneless music all left me pretty uninvested in the whole affair. The art style and locations are beautiful, though, and it did make me want to eventually check out some of the Tactics games, which take place in the same universe but are supposed to have excellent stories and gameplay.

8: Final Fantasy XIII.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had two such opposing opinions of a game’s story vs. its gameplay. This game is the only one that plays with a bunch of story elements from FFIX, which did a lot to endear it to me. It’s sort of a game in which the protagonists are Kuja, the villain of IX. Like Kuja, they are created as tools by an uncaring god for the purpose of fighting against one world on behalf of another world, and are subsequently forced to grapple with the horrors of having an artificially shortened lifespan.

The story actually has a lot of Leftist themes, too. The gods of that universe spread ideology among the populace, and the people unquestioningly believe these false stories, as the gods have provided for them for as long as there has been written history. Much of the character arcs center on the characters being forcibly removed from their places within those ideological frameworks and having to unlearn what they’d always believed to be objectively true about the world.

So the story actually is pretty good, but it’s held back by some really clumsy storytelling; it constantly uses undefined jargon, has almost no side characters with which it might flesh out the world, actively fights against players trying to glean information from environmental details, and maintains (at least for me) a weird disconnect between the characters in the gameplay and the characters in the cutscenes. I think this partly stems from Square’s original failed plan for FFXIII to be the first game in a much larger series of games sharing themes and major story details. Despite these issues, however, the characters are all likeable and (mostly) believable, and their interactions are grounded in real emotional weight even while their universe feels intangible.

This all got dragged down by the gameplay, which is total dogshit. It’s got the worst battle system I think I’ve seen in an RPG. The game only stops being doggedly, unflinchingly linear about thirty hours in, the whole game took me about fifty hours, and I spent the last fifteen hours beating my head against each individual battle, waiting until the system hiccuped long enough to accidentally slide me a win. That meant I had about a five hour window of euphoric play, convinced that I actually loved this game, thrilled with every new experience it gave me, and excited to see what would happen next. I guess those five hours are what pushed this game over XII in my ranking.

7: Final Fantasy V.

Until FFXV, this game was the last of the “Warriors of Light” games, in which the game follows a party of four set characters for its entirety. To this day, it’s the last of the “Warriors of Light” games to let the player customize which character holds which roles through the job system.

FFV’s job system is the reason to play the game. Its story is mediocre, and its characters are all fairly flat, but there’s something viscerally satisfying about building party members up in jobs that might enhance the role they ultimately will fill. For my mage character, I maxed out Black Mage, Blue Mage, Mystic Knight, Summoner, and Geomancer. Then at the end, I switched her to a Freelancer with Black Magic and Summoning, and she kept all the passive skills for those jobs and also the highest stats across those jobs.

It was super fun and kind of a shift of focus for me, since I tend to place story above anything else in games. Despite the story not being special, though, the game’s writing is actually a ton of fun. It’s definitely got the most comic relief in the series, and I came away loving Gilgamesh as much as everyone else does.

And while it’s nothing special graphically, it does have some really cool enemy designs, and the final boss design is one of the most memorable ones they’ve ever done. Which is impressive because I keep having to look up Exdeath’s name because the character himself is super forgettable.

6: Final Fantasy IV.

This wasn’t the first game in the series to feature actual characters with names and depth, but I have no interest in playing FFII, so it might as well be. I actually played the DS Remake for this game, so it definitely had some quality of life improvements, like full 3d characters and maps, voice acting, an updated script, the ability to actually see the ATB gauge, and the ability to switch to other characters whose turns are ready without using a turn.

Apparently one thing the remake didn’t do was rebalance the difficulty for more modern sensibilities. Instead, this remake is...harder? It requires more grinding than the original? Why??

Either way, though, the story is actually solid! The game opens on its protagonist, Cecil, committing a war crime on the orders of his king, who raised him as a child. The first ten hours of so of the game follows Cecil as he tries to understand why he was ordered to kill so many innocents, turns his back on his country, and works to redeem himself.

This arc is reinforced by the game mechanics, too, which is super clever. His redemption is marked by a change in job from a Dark Knight to a Paladin, which also resets his level. For a time, his life is considerably harder because he’s finding his footing as a new person, which is marked by battles which had been easy becoming much harder for the player for a time.

This game places storytelling over gameplay more than I think any other game in the series. Each character is locked into a job, which I much prefer in my RPGs to games where characters function pretty much interchangeably. I dunno if it’s because I cut my RPG teeth on Tales, but it really bugs me when I can give Tifa the exact same loadout as Barret. I want the lives of the characters to bleed into their functions as gameplay devices.

However, the developers clearly had a ton of different jobs they wanted to add to their game, but hadn’t figured out how to allow for the player to switch in and out party members in standby. To fix this, they increased the in-battle party to five characters rather than or four (or the later constantly frustrating three), rotated the roster a ton, and had a ton of characters who straight up leave permanently. One character dies and never comes back. Two characters die and only are revived after it’s too late to rejoin the party. Four characters end up too injured to continue traveling.

This let the developers make a ton of jobs, but it doesn’t let the player exploit these jobs to their fullest. Characters’ stats reflect their role in the story, as well. One character is quickly aging out of adventuring, so his magic stats increase on levels, but his attack and defense stats actually decrease, signifying his failing body. Another character has already achieved some form of enlightenment, so he gains no stats when he levels up at all. The purpose of IV is the story, over any other aspect of the game, which makes it even more mindboggling that the remake would have increased the difficulty.

Besides that, the biggest issue I had with this game was the overbearing constant drama of it. While there were a few more lighthearted parts, they were mostly relegated to NPC dialogue and sidequests. The characters in this game don’t become friends so much as they become companions who bonded over shared tragedies, and this makes for quite a few scenes of every character separately wallowing in their own immeasurable sadness. I played FFV directly after this game and the light story and jokey dialogue was a much-needed palette cleanser.

5: Final Fantasy VI.

Before the unexpected success of FFVII irreparably changed the franchise, Square constantly mixed up the story formula for the series. IV, V and VI all handled their stories really differently from each other, and what I remember of III also felt fairly different from the games that came after.

Every game from VII on had a very clear protagonist (except XII, whose botched protagonist was still clearly marketed as the protagonist). The concept of the Dissidia crossover series is built on the idea that every FF has a protagonist at the center of its story. FFVI’s Dissidia character is Terra, but Terra is not the protagonist of FFVI.

Apparently while developing FFVI, the directors decided they didn’t want the game to have a clear protagonist, so they asked the staff to staff to submit concepts for characters, and they’d use as many as they could. This game has fourteen characters, each with their own fun gameplay gimmick in battles. Three of the characters are secret, and one can permanently die halfway through if the player takes the wrong actions. Of these fourteen characters, the main story heavily revolves around 3-6 of them, while five more have substantial character arcs.

There’s kind of a schism in the fandom over whether this game or VII is the best one in the series, and I can see why; this game is absolutely fascinating. No other game in the series has done what this game did, which means it’s one of the two FF games I really want to see remade after they complete this VII remake.

The first half is very linear. It breaks the beginning party into three pieces, then sends each character to a different continent, where they meet more characters and build their own parties before everyone reunites. Once the story has taken the player everywhere in the world, the apocalypse hits. The villain’s evil plan succeeds and tears the entire world apart.

The second half of the game picks up a year later with one character finally getting a raft and escaping the island on which she’s been marooned. In this half, the player navigates the world, which has all the same locations, but in completely different parts of the map. The driving factor for much of the second half is to learn from incidental dialogue where each party member has gone in this new world, to track them down, and to try to fix some of the bad that’s been done to the world before finally stopping the villain who destroyed it.

It’s unique and clever and occasionally legitimately tugs at the heartstrings some, which is impressive for a poorly translated SNES game. The final dungeon is a masterpiece all on its own. It requires the player to make three parties of up to four characters, then send them in and switch between them as new roads open. This way, the game manages to feel like an ensemble piece up to the very end.

4: Final Fantasy VII.

As I previously mentioned, there’s kind of a schism in the fandom over whether FFVI or FFVII is the best game in the series. Neither is the best game in the series. FFVII is better than FFVI. Oops.

When I was first drafting up this list, it was before I’d reached my replays of VI or VII, and I tentatively placed them next to each other, with the strong assumption that I’d end up placing VI a bit higher than VII, since it has so many strongly differentiated characters with solid story arcs, beautiful artwork, great music, etc. etc. Then I reached FFVII and not even four hours in, I realized it would have to be higher on my list than VI.

VI has a better battle system, its characters are much more differentiated by their gameplay, its character sprites have aged much better than VII’s character models, and it has four party members in battles instead of three. But I couldn’t overlook VII’s gorgeous artwork, sharp character work, and character-driven story. In the end, I had to give it the edge.

VII is a strange beast. It simultaneously really holds up and has aged horribly. The story is excellent and I love the characters, but the actual line-to-line writing is pretty bad, making the whole experience of the game a bit like swimming upstream; you’re getting somewhere good, but the age of the game is still pushing you back the best it can. Similarly, the background artwork is fantastic and gives the game locations a sense of place incomparable to anything that had come before it, but the character models are so low-poly that the two are constantly at odds with each other.

Still, the game is more a good game than it is an old one. I think it’s managed to duck the absurd level of hype around it by actually being very different from what the most popular images of it make it out to be, if that makes sense. The super futuristic techno-dystopia city only makes up a very small portion of the larger game, and most newcomers to the game won’t have seen Junon, or Corel, or Cosmo Canyon. Heck, I didn’t know Cait Sith or Red XIII were characters before I played the game for the first time. One of the many reasons I’m excited for the rest of this remake is to see newcomers to the story learning just how much variety there is to the world, events, and characters of this game.

FFVII also began (and pulled off really well) a number of storytelling trends that continued in subsequent games in the series. Obviously, almost every game since this one has a clear protagonist with a cool sword for cosplayers to recreate, and an androgynous villain whose story is closely linked to the protagonist (or one villain who is linked to the protagonist and a second one whose purpose is to look like Sephiroth), but it’s started broader, more quality shifts, too.

FFVII is the first game in the series to try to give all its characters arcs based on a similar theme, for example, a trend that has helped give it and future games a sense of thematic unity, especially in IX, X, and XV. Heck, that trend was why I almost came around on XII before they nuked it. It was also the first game in the series to have a real ending, rather than closing out with essentially a curtain call featuring all the party members, like they did in IV through VI (and I assume earlier).

Another common feature of FF games that it didn’t start with VII but certainly was canonized with it was the mid-game plot twist tying the protagonist to both the villain and the larger story. FFIV had this as well, of course, but I feel like the orphanage twist in VIII, the Zanarkand dream twist in X, and the time skip twist in XV were all meant to recall VII’s twist of Cloud’s…very complex existence (IX’s two worlds twist actually is a clear homage to IV, but it’d be hard to argue that Zidane’s connection to Kuja - and the character of Kuja generally - weren’t more influenced by VII).

2: Final Fantasy X and Final Fantasy XV.

Sorry, this one is a two-fer. I’m not gonna spend too much time on why I placed these two together in the #2 spot (I wrote a long thing on it here, if you’re interested). In summary, the games kinda mirror each other, in story and design. Each game can be seen in the negative space of what the other game leaves out, and at the end, the characters react to similar situations in completely opposite ways. For this reason, and that they’re of comparable quality, I think they’re best viewed as companion pieces.

FFX was the first mainline Final Fantasy game I ever completed, six years late. It was the first FF game with voice acting and many fully modeled locations. It also kinda marks the beginning of the series’ constant changes to the battle system.

That’s not to say the previous games’ battle systems didn’t also differ from each other, but they all had the same setup, with levels and an ATB gauge. This was the first game since III not to have any real-time element to its battle system, nor numbered levels gained through experience points. Since X, no two FF battle systems have been remotely comparable, which is cool and innovative and keeps things fresh, but also means I’ve been starved for just a regular ATB FF game for too long.

In many ways, FFX feels like a bridge between the PS1 games and the later games. It feels much more streamlined than VII, VIII, or IX, in terms of both storytelling and design. The game is very linear, pushing the player from one area to the next and not allowing much backtracking until the very end. It also loses the aging look of the PS1 games’ menus and UI, finally updating the classic font and the blue menus with white borders to fully modernized and sleek graphics.

However, movement still feels very similar to movement in VIII and IX, the music definitely evokes the PS1 games more than the later games, and most locations are portrayed with beautifully painted backgrounds, rather than modeled in (which I actually prefer, and I was glad to see that VII Remake has gone back to that in some places).

Voice acting in this game is phenomenal for 2001, and honestly on par with many contemporary games. I can’t think of a voice actor for the main cast who didn’t do a great job. Tidus’s narration, especially, is emotional and evocative in all the right ways. Grounding the plot in a very personal story about Tidus’s difficulty coming to terms with and proving himself to his abusive father keeps the story relatable and real.

Something interesting about my experience with X is that because it was my first Final Fantasy game, I thought for a very long time that the series was about organized religion, and the ways it is used to justify evil acts. This might be the only game of the ones I’ve played that is about organized religion, or even prominently features a religious doctrine, which really sets it apart from the rest of the series.

The game’s thematic unity is on point, even if there is a scene where they state the central themes a bit too plainly. Every character, and even the entire universe of the story, is held back by the past, and every subplot and the main plot revolves around finding ways to move forward and leave the past behind.

I love FFXV. It feels like a return to form after XII and XIII. It’s also probably the furthest any game in the series has strayed from the original formula. Battles are entirely real-time, and the game is a straightforward action game. There is very little time spent with menus, and even the leveling system has been stripped down to a few skill trees. It’s immediately obvious that the game was originally created to be a spinoff, not a main title.

FFXV is also probably too much a product of the current era of microtransactions and payment plans. The full story is spread out across *deep breath* a feature film, an anime series, an anime OVA, a standalone demo, two console games, four DLC story chapters, a multiplayer side game, a VR fishing game, four phone games (though really three phone games because A New Empire straight up isn't in that universe and also is terrible), an expansion including several entirely new dungeons, and finally a novel set to release sometime this year. That’s a whole lot of story. I’ve not played the phone games or the VR fishing game, or read the novel yet, but I’ve experienced all the rest.

But I also played FFXV when it first released, before any patches, before I knew there was a film, just the game all on its own. So you can believe me when I say that without any supplementary material, the game is still great.

It goes back to the FFI, II, III, V “Warriors of Light” system, where the party has four characters who do not change at all throughout the game. While this bugged me at first, I soon came to appreciate having a story where almost all character interactions involved these four characters. It meant I came to understand them well enough to feel like they were my friends, too. Most characterization in this game is understated, presented through small shared moments, dialogue, and body language as they travel the world together. Much like X, the overarching story might be expansive and far-reaching, but the real show is in the personal journeys the friends have.

Much of the first half of the game is spent exploring an open world, driving along the road and getting out of the car for pit stops or to explore the forests nearby. This is one of the very few games where I don’t mind just exploring an area without the promise of an upgrade or a new scene, just to see what’s around the corner, or to hear whatever banter the characters might engage in next.

The entire world of this game is gorgeous, and the orchestrated music is some of the best they’ve ever done. The main plot is beautiful, too. It’s bittersweet and emotional, with a charismatic villain and a twist that blew me away the first time I reached it.

The supplementary material is also mostly really quality. I’d recommend the Royal Edition over the original edition for sure, and to watch Kingsglaive as well. The anime series is quick and fairly fun, and Comrades expands on the universe in some great ways, but neither has as much bearing on the overall plot as the DLC chapters and Kingsglaive. I’m so in love with the DLC chapters, actually, that two years ago I wrote a piece just on how much Episode Ignis affected me (here if you care).

This is definitely getting long, so I guess I’ll move on after saying I’m upset that they patched Chapter 13 to make it easier, and I’m angry at everyone who complained that Chapter 13 was too hard. It was a brilliant piece of storytelling through game mechanics, and it’s mostly been stripped of all that, now.

1: Final Fantasy IX.

It’s IX. It was always IX. I actually did come into this with an open mind, wondering if one of the new games I’d experience (IV, V, VIII, XII, XIII) might end up hitting me harder than Final Fantasy IX, but as I replayed my favorite game in the series I quickly realized that wouldn’t be happening.

There are only a handful of games that make me cry. IX is one of two without voice acting. There are several songs from IX that make me tear up just when I hear them.

The story of the black mages gaining sentience, learning that they can die, and trying to force themselves back into being puppets just to lose that knowledge really moves me. The same goes for the story of Dagger no longer recognizing her mother, setting out to find a place to belong, learning that her birth family is long dead, then watching her mother return to her old self a moment before losing her forever. And Zidane’s story, where he has nowhere to call home, finally discovers the circumstances of his birth, and realizes that had he stayed in his birthplace, he would have become a much worse person than he ultimately did.

More than any other, though, Vivi’s story will always stick with me. He was found as a soulless husk by Quan, a creature with the intention of fattening him up and eating him, but each of them awoke something in the other, and Quan ended up raising Vivi as his grandson. When Quan passed, a rudderless Vivi went to the city to find a new home, and eventually learned he was created as a weapon. Other weapons had also gained sentience, but none had the worldliness that Vivi had gained from his loving relationship with Quan. When Vivi discovers that most weapons like him die after only a few months, he grapples with the possibility that he may die at any time, and eventually decides that he can only take control of what life he has by living each moment to the fullest. He ends up becoming an example for the other weapons to follow.

FFIX is a game about belonging: both yearning to have somewhere to belong and learning that the place where you think you belong is actually toxic and harmful to you. Even the menu theme is a tune called “A Place to Call Home.”

IX ran counter to the trends of the series in a number of ways. It was a return to high fantasy after the more sci-fi VII and VIII, and was also much more lighthearted than those games, while still being heartfelt and occasionally bittersweet. Gameplay-wise, it locked each of its characters into a single job, gave them designs based on their jobs, brought back four-character parties, and introduced a skill system in which characters learn skills from equipment. It also had a much softer, less realistic art style, and mostly avoided the attempts to recapture VII that have plagued most other subsequent titles (besides Kuja’s design, I guess).

The story is also structured so well. It regularly shifts perspective for the first thirty hours, allowing the player to spend ample time with each of the party members, and shaking up character combinations for fun new interactions. It introduced a system similar to the skits from Tales games, showing the player often humorous vignettes of what’s happening to other characters at the time. Once the characters have all come together in one party, the game has earned the sense that all of them (except for the criminally underexplored Amarant) have become a family.

The supporting cast are a blast as well. Zidane’s thief troupe (who double as a theater troupe) are likeable and fun. Kuja’s villain arc allows him to be sympathetic without losing his edge. The black mages are tragic without being overdone.

The development team for this game put so much more work into this game than they had to. The background artwork was all made in such high-definition resolutions that the act of downscaling them to fit in the game removed details. Uematsu traveled to Europe to make sure he’d get the feel of the soundtrack right, and has said it’s his favorite score he’s ever done. Sakaguchi, the creator of Final Fantasy, says IX is his favorite game in the series.

FFIX is one of the two games I would like them to remake after they finish the VII Remake, but I’m terrified they’ll mess it up in some way. Honestly, the game’s only flaws (which I do desperately want them to fix) are a lack of voice acting, the underdeveloped party member Amarant (and to a lesser extent Freya), the dissonance of Beatrix never getting punished in any way for her hand in a genocide, and the fact that very few of the sidequests are story-related because so many of the smaller story details that would normally be relegated to sidequests are covered in the main plot.

Despite the danger, though, I think revisiting IX is absolutely essential moving forward. It represents so much of what made older games like IV and VI great, and its story is much more grounded in real emotion than many current Square stories tend to be. Remaking VII will be good for getting VII out of Square’s system. Remaking IX would be good for putting IX back into Square’s system.

Here’s a IX song as a reward for getting this far. I’m gonna go listen to it and tear up again.

#final fantasy #final fantasy iv #final fantasy v #final fantasy vi #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy viii #final fantasy ix #final fantasy x #final fantasy xii #final fantasy xiii #final fantasy xv

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the-nights-parade · 4 years

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Ocean Park | Hong Kong's Largest Theme Park

Ocean Park is Hong Kong's largest theme park. In fact, it is Hong Kong's only theme park. With its 35 attractions and rides, the park has won several awards, including "The World's Seventh Most Popular Amusement Park" and "33rd Most Visited Tourist Attraction in the World". These are not statistics that I would necessarily brag about, but maybe that's just me.

Ocean Park is a 10 minute taxi ride away from our home, and Sadie has been at least a dozen times with her friends. In fact, her school did a trip there earlier this year and attempted to sell it to the parents as a physics lesson. Right.

I am reasonably informed that watching a teacher get spun around until they puke is the height of entertainment for a teenager. Anyway, I had never been before. I'm not sure why this is, but I guess that it is partly to do with David's lack of interest. I guess I can understand that. Any roller coaster becomes Space Mountain when you are blind, and although I love Space Mountain, I'm not sure that I'd want to spend the whole day riding on it. David is in the UK though, and I thought it might be a fun thing for Sadie and me to do.

This is the latest in a long string of my attempts at mother/daughter bonding. I try to kid myself that Sadie and I really have a close personal connection, that she loves and respects me as much as I do her, and that she actually enjoys my company when in reality what I perceive as bonding is probably just Sadie playing along to get something she wants. Regardless, if that's all I can get, I'll take it.

So, off we went to Ocean Park. I had to queue up for the ticket as Sadie already had a season pass that paid for itself if the first month. The price was comparable to other them parks - about £20 for the day. Now it is time for me to fess up about the real reason I wanted to go to Ocean Park. It has two different sections, one of which has animals, an aquarium and kiddie rides and the other which has thrill rides. The animal section has PANDAS! For a long time, seeing pandas has been on my list of 100 things to do before I die* and I was finally getting to do it!

I am marginally embarrassed by my passion for pandas. I have seen Kung Fu Panda three times and that is really not something of which to be proud. I am completely suckered in by their furry, fat cuddliness and those big black circles around their sad eyes. To be fair, I was also completely suckered in by Pete, the dog from the Little Rascals too. Something about a black circle around an eye. I like to think of myself as mature, urbane, sophisticated, cool and more than a little cynical. Loving cuddly panda bears blows that image. It's like Henry Kissinger saying he loves "My Little Pony". I guess I am out of the closet now.

Anyway, back to Ocean Park. I decided to prolong the expectation for as long as possible, so we visited the aquarium first. It is a pretty good aquarium as these things go - maybe even in the top 50 aquariums in the world.

I couldn't really contain my excitement much longer though. I had to see the bears. I spotted the Panda House from several hundred metres away. I knew it was the panda house because there were 10 metre tall plastic pandas waving to us from the roof. For one brief moment, I actually thought that they were real and waving just at me. We walked up the ramps and into the house. There are three panda enclosures, each with its own panda. They are solitary creatures and don't like to mix much. Thank goodness. The sight of two pandas cuddling or playing might just might be more cuteness than an ordinary human could bear (ha ha - I swear that wasn't on purpose).

There are two parallel ramps in front of the enclosures, and you are encouraged to stroll down one and up the other, giving everyone a good chance to have a look. Good manners went out the window as soon as I walked in the door. I stopped, creating a domino effect of panda watchers behind me. I couldn't move. I was spell bound. There in front of me was a giant panda sound asleep on a wooden platform. He was on his back, mouth open and with all four paws up in the air. I couldn't hear it, but I am absolutely sure he was snoring.

It is not terribly mature or sophisticated to jump up and down and shriek "OOOOH! LOOK AT THAT PANDA! HE IS SOOOOOO CUTE!", but that is what I did. Sadie,even more than usual, pretended that she didn't know me. Finally, someone behind me gave me a good push and forced me to carry on.

The second and third enclosures were empty, so I hurried down to see snoring panda again. Then, just as I was about to go past window number two, out came a beautiful female panda bear. I know it is unspeakably rude, and I am really not proud of it, but I simply would not budge from that spot.

Parents tried to push their eager children in front of me, but I wasn't having it. I figured that I had less time to do the 100 things to do before I die than they did. I took photos and watched her amble around for a good 10 minutes. I probably did more to damage Chinese/Western relations at that point than Tienanmen Square, but my wish was fulfilled. I have seen pandas. I am also the very, very proud owner of a cute, overpriced panda cuddly toy that we have named Bing Bing.

Back out into the sunlight, no other event that Ocean Park could offer could possibly live up to the panda experience. I have to tell you though, that in the dozen or so time Sadie had visited, she had never before seen the bears. She comes for the rides. So, off we went to the other part of the park.

This can be accessed in one of two ways. There is a cable car that offers magnificent views over the southern part of Hong Kong or there is a train. The trip up is unbelievably steep. There are stairs, but it would probably take me the better part of my life to get up them. I don't think that they are even open for public use. We took the cable car, and it was lovely, but I certainly wouldn't recommend it for anyone with height issues.

Once at the top, Sadie said she needed food. There were a number of food options, most of which involved some form of squid. There is something not quite right about eating something that was one of the attractions we had just visited. I am just trying to imagine how this menu would go down at Alton Towers or at Six Flags.

Thankfully, there were other options than munching on Squidward and Sadie was very happy with her french fries and diet coke. This is the ultimate food oxymoron.

During her feast, Sadie had been eyeing the temporary tattoo parlour. "No", I said, "Don't even ask". Of course, a few minutes later we were sat on the chair inside the booth whilst Sadie got her Panda tattoo. Giving in against your better judgement is a big part of the bonding process.

As foreigners, we are used to being stared at sometimes despite the fact that Hong Kong is one of the most cosmopolitan and ethnically diverse cities in the world. Just recently, I was accosted on the MTR by about 20 teenagers demanding to have their picture taken with a foreigner. Of course, I obliged with my goofiest grin.

Sadie actually attracted an audience whilst her tattoo was painted on. There was a crowd of people gathered round, pushing each other out of the way to get a view. When the tattoo lady was finished, Sadie stood up and the crowd actually applauded!

We then moved onto the arcade. This time I was really going to hold firm, and I set about telling Sadie how all the games are rigged and that it is virtually impossible to win a big prize. Then I saw the shooting gallery. OK, it was a Nerf shooting gallery where you shot plastic pegs with suction cups onto a plastic target, but it was still a shooting gallery. My resolve crumbled and I became the world's biggest hypocrite.

When I was about Sadie's age, I went to a summer camp. It was altogether a miserable experience, except for one thing. I discovered that I was really good with a 22 rifle. I've been hooked ever since. I would NEVER shoot at a living thing (I won't even let Sadie go to BB Gun parties when EVERYONE else gets to go), but boy do I love shooting at a target. I bought 10 rounds and sidled up to the bar counter. Everyone around me was doing rapid firing, but I took my time to line up that bullseye in my site. I felt like Clint Eastwood, Annie Oakley and John Wayne all wrapped up into one. Slowly, I pulled the trigger. Bullseye! I took my time with the rest and managed 5 bulls eyes and 5 in the next circle out. God, I'm good.

On to the rest of the park. It was time to do some rides. We headed off to the log flume. On our way, we saw large groups of mainland Chinese wandering around in packs. Some of them had on matching hats. Others had perky little matching bandannas. All of them had little tags around their necks which I can only presume said "If found, please return to Hunan Provence". Hong Kong tourism is big business in mainland China, and the groups are typically made up of older couples. It's sort of like visiting the Florida of the east.

These groups, with their bad teeth, worse clothes and what I can only imagine is the Chinese version of a hillbilly accent, are treated with complete and utter disdain by the local Hong Kong community. I rather like them. I can only imagine what they must have seen in their lifetimes, yet they retain a certain child-like innocence in the pleasure they take in places like Ocean Park. Then we got to the queue for the log flume.

All innocence was gone as these old folks pushed and shoved like they were in the queue for the last kilo of rice at the state rice store. I'm not kidding, they were vicious. They cut in front of as many people as they could, tread on toes and elbowed their way to the front. Then once on the ride, they looked miserable when they got soaked to the skin. What were they expecting? We got soaked to the skin too, but it was fun.

Then I had a really strange experience (as if being jostled by old Chinese people wasn't strange enough). We were in the queue for another ride (Raging Rapids, if you must know), and I spotted someone I knew in the queue. I knew I knew him, but for the life of me I couldn't thing of how. His was not a face I would forget as he looked like a youngish Paul Newman. I stared for about 10 minutes before he looked up and nodded at me and smiled before he turned away to talk to his very young Thai wife/girlfriend. It finally came to me.

It was a close friend of one of my exes whom I like to call Lucifer (No Grizz and Billy, that is not a nickname I have for either of you). It was driving me crazy because I couldn't remember his name. I remembered that he had been born with a really bad name (Malcolm Pratt), but he changed it by deed pole as soon as he was old enough. Who could blame him? So, although I could remember the old name that he changed before I even met him, I simply could not recall his new name. Then it came to me. Pat. His new name was Pat. Just to test out this theory, I yelled out "Pat" to see what would happen. What happened is that Sadie nearly died of embarrassment and the bloke didn't even turn around. I'm certain it was him though. I had heard to had moved to Asia a few years ago for the women to teach.

After a couple hours of different rides, it was time to head back down. This time we opted for the train. We were waiting for the train in a sort of holding pen with a bunch of mainlanders. Several of the women were staring at me and giggling. I smiled at one lady and she came over to me and poked me in the chest several times. Then, she gave two big thumbs up. All the other ladies then started smiling, nodding and pointing at my boobs like they had just won an academy award. I swear to you this really happened.

#ocean park #hong kong

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alyblacklist · 5 years

Note

New theory flying around that Katarina is an imposter like our Red, the real Katarina is dead... what do you think Aly?

New? I’m not sure that it’s all that “new.” This “Fakerina” or “Fauxrina” theory started mere days after Rassvet aired last April, pretty much as soon as the first spoilers leaked of Laila Robins’ scene on the street with Red in the S6 finale. (The point at which I commented to a fandom friend that old theories die hard and that apparently theories will need to be pried from people’s hands). It seems most popular among those who either don’t accept the Red imposter reveal (i.e., those who still believe that Red is original Raymond Reddington, Navy officer and biological father of Liz, and that the bones in the bag were someone else) or those who continue to insist that our Red is himself Katarina. So I guess it’s no surprise, given that I don’t fall into either of those camps (which I’ll lump together as the Red is bio-parental camp), that I also don’t think that this woman is an imposter Katarina. Are there a few facts that raise some questions? Sure. But not enough at this point to cause me to change my view that Laila Robins’ character is the real deal — Dom’s daughter, Liz’s mother, the present-day version of Lotte Verbeek’s Katarina Rostova — who has clearly been through a LOT since the events of Rassvet. And who as far as I am concerned is the ONLY living bio-parent Liz has to date on this show.

Why do I think she’s real? Primarily because this Katarina still shares an emotional connection with Red that is consistent with two people who once shared a deep emotional bond (like Katarina/Ilya in Rassvet, for example). I thought Laila Robins did an absolutely amazing job conveying that in her scene with Red in 7.02, which I’ve partially giffed here. She is very conflicted about hurting him, but at the same time she feels deeply betrayed by him, and as we later learn, apparently by her own father as well. At the same time, Red admits he cares about her and never meant for whatever happened in Belgrade to happen. He also clearly knows exactly who she is, both on the street in Paris in 6.22 and when he brought up the Belgrade incident in 7.02. To me, this emotional connection between them is entirely inconsistent with the “Fakerina” view that this woman is some other woman who either shared a fictitious Katarina Rostova identity with Liz’s real mother in the past (as some sort of operative) or was hired to impersonate/draw attention away from the real Katarina following her flight after the fire. By contrast, the emotional conflict between this Katarina and our Red is completely consistent with the clues we have been given for seasons now that something else happened after the night of the fire (and after the events of Rassvet) that hurt Katarina and that our Red either orchestrated or was at least involved in:

For example:

- the conversation between Red and his hallucinated Katarina in 3.19:

Red: It was a Hobson’s choice. There was a woman and her child. Both were doomed. Both would die. I could either save one or lose both. I chose the child. It was… it was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. Worst thing by far.

Katarina: You didn’t have a choice.

Red: There’s always a choice. I was arrogant. I presumed that there was an order to things, that there was… that if I nourished and protected and taught the child, she would be safe…and happy.

Katarina: And she was neither.

- Red’s conversations with Dom in 3.20:

Dom: Then what are you doing out here? These boxes are all I have… all I have left of my daughter.

Red: I’m sorry, Dom. I understand.

Dom: No, you don’t. You don’t understand. You think because Masha’s dead, now you… you can understand me? You can… you can share my misery?

Red: I feel bereft, just like you.

Dom: No, not just like me. She’s gone because of choices you made for both of them. First Katarina and then Masha. As far as I’m concerned, you killed my entire family! No, you’re not like me.

- And later:

Red: You still have family.

Dom: Who? The baby? I won’t live long enough to see her out of nappies. If I’m allowed to see her at all. I had to make do with photographs of Masha. Did you even tell her about me?

Red: I couldn’t. You know how complicated it was.

Dom: There was nothing complicated about it. We had to back out of Masha’s life to keep her safe, after you made a colossal mess of everything. Only you couldn’t stay well enough away, could you? Now you… you come to my house with this sorry tale of loss, like you’re the only one affected by this. You’re the only one whose feelings matter. Well, guess what, Raymond? Masha was my granddaughter, and now she’s dead without even knowing I existed. All my sacrifices shot to hell. I could’ve spent the last 30 years just being her grandfather… You selfish prick.

- And Dembe’s words to Red in 4.22:

Raymond I’m not sure Elizabeth will ever be ready to learn about what you did to Katarina.

Second, while Bokenkamp hedged a little on admitting outright that this woman is the real Katarina Rostova when he was asked that question directly last spring, I think both his comments and Eisendrath’s this season land on the side of Katarina being real. I know some people place little stock in the Jo(h)ns interviews (and some even go so far as to outright bury their heads in the sand and believe nothing they say about the bones or anything else). Do they use double speak and hidden nuance? Sure, sometimes. But in my book they have never outright lied to the audience and I don’t think they’re about to start now. From where I sit, all signs point to Katarina being real, and precisely the sort of formidable “big bad” that only a real Katarina —not a fake one — could provide for this season.

For example, to TV Guide:

“She is going to be the main antagonist this year,” said executive producer John Eisendrath "And what’s exciting is that that, I think, makes good on the promise that’s sort of been baked into the series from the beginning, that at some point Liz would be part of a triangle between herself and Katarina and Reddington. It becomes the family drama that sort of has always been foreshadowed.”

To AM New York:

“His life is in real danger. This situation is as bad as it has ever been for him,” executive producer John Eisendrath teases. “Katarina is as worthy an adversary as we’ve ever seen him go up against. Or, perhaps, a more worthy adversary. She is someone we built up over this entire series and here she is, this notorious former spy.”

Like Reddington, Katarina’s full and true identity isn’t known to all of “The Blacklist’s” key players, and Eisendrath says that’ll be a theme present throughout the season.

“Our hope is that season 7 will make good on the promise that we would at some point dive headlong into the family drama and triangle between Liz, Katarina and Red,” he says. “That is essentially the core emotional story through the season.”

To Parade:

“The goal of season 7 is to dramatize the battle between Katarina and Red, to raise the question of who is going to win that battle, and to put Liz squarely in the middle between Katarina and Red,” executive producer John Eisendrath told Parade.com in this exclusive interview.

It wasn’t that long ago that Liz had come to terms with Red. Her attitude toward him had mellowed, and now, going into season 7, she thinks she might lose him.

“The arrival of Katarina Rostova is going to make season 7 the kind of family drama that will put Liz in between her parental figures and force her to decide who to trust more, Katarina or Red,” Eisendrath continues. “And so even though she comes into the season feeling pretty good about Red, Katarina is going to do her level best to raise the question of whether Liz can trust Reddington.”

To Entertainment Weekly:

“Katarina is a character we’ve heard about for a number of years now. However, until this point she’s been a specter,” [Jon Bokenkamp] told us. “Katarina’s arrival now introduces a whole new set of very real problems for Reddington, most specifically because this is a woman with a deep, intimate and very personal understanding of Reddington. Her knowledge of Reddington and the truths he’s holding presents a very tangible threat to Red, and places him in an incredibly vulnerable place, not only in the criminal community, but with Liz. In terms of how Katarina’s arrival impacts Liz and Red, hang tight — this could be a bumpy ride.

Also to Entertainment Weekly:

EW: How does Agnes being back with Liz figure into this season’s story

JB: The table is set for a very strange and unusual familial dynamic. You know Katarina is living across the hall. Daughter is reunited with mom, and Reddington isn’t aware of this. I think we’re we are certainly aware of the fact that Agnes is home and it’s a new dynamic for Liz. She’s a working mom who is juggling all the all the jobs that a working mother does, and yet her super-spy mother is living across the hall looking for answers. Well, that could go in any number of strange and unexpected directions. So, yes, I don’t want to say Agnes is in jeopardy, but I think her story line in coming home presents the show with some really unique opportunities.

******

Liz is her access point to Red’s orbit. Katarina living next to Liz and the promise of her inserting herself into Liz’s life is less about Liz becoming a target, although that very well may happen. It’s more about using Liz to try to get information and trying to get answers about Reddington. So Liz, and therefore Agnes, are sort of in the crosshairs. They’re not necessarily her target, but I think we’ve done a nice job of demonstrating just how diabolical this woman is. And on top of that, I think it gives us a lot of really interesting familial territory to cover, and it gives the show a unique way to explore those relationships without being overt about it.

To TV Insider:

How worried should we be about Katarina moving in next door to Liz, especially after Liz’s concerns earlier in the episode about bringing Agnes home?

John Eisendrath: Hopefully the audience will be extraordinarily worried for Liz because we’ve spent seven years building up how diabolical Katarina Rostova is and the first two episodes of this year dramatizing the lengths to which she will go to get the information she is looking for, which are extraordinary. She is now sitting right across the hall from Liz and her daughter. It’s a position that we love having on our show, where the fox is definitely in the hen house.

Jon Bokenkamp: It’s a unique situation on the show where the audience is a step ahead of both Liz and Red. They’re in on the secret on who this woman is and what her agenda is, and yet Red and Liz have no knowledge of that yet.

To Variety:

“We’re really positioned with this season to be what is ultimately sort of a small family drama,” creator Jon Bokenkamp says. “The table is set for something that’s really fresh and new for us. We’ve got this father figure of Reddington, we’ve got the former spy and mother, the FBI profiler and daughter and the granddaughter, Agnes. Thanksgiving dinner could be awkward this year.”

************

Variety: What viewers know of Katarina has largely been told through Red’s eyes, so what kind of a challenge was it bringing that character to life and bridging his fantasy with reality?

JB: One, trying not to give away everything about her. In presenting who she is, we were trying to keep some sense of mystery. One of the first questions was how do we do that? But the thing we tapped into that is unique about her, and it is a bit odd and the audience can see is different this time around, is that it’s incredibly emotional. She’s not a Big Bad who is looking for money or revenge. Well, she might be looking for some revenge, but her history with Reddington pains her. Hurting him pains her, she doesn’t want to be doing this. There’s an emotional component between her and Red and probably Liz and Dom — there’s this whole weird family dynamic that the table is finally set for. It’s different than what we’ve ever had before with any of the other Big Bads. That was both the challenge and what is the most exciting. The questions, the answers that she wants, all are coming from an incredibly emotional, sometimes desperate, sometimes very ventricle place.

Variety: Does she have that “mother gene”? By the way she inserts herself into Liz’s life in the cliff-hanger it seems like she will potentially become Agnes’s new nanny?

JB: Well your intuition is good. The fun for us is for the audience to be one step ahead of both Liz and Red. They know that “Mommie Dearest” is living next door. And with Liz having her daughter now home and potentially needing some help, that might introduce some rather disturbing parental situations for any single mother. It’s a dynamic that we’re going to explore in terms of who Katarina is and who she presents herself to be, sort of the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Keep in mind Liz hasn’t met her mother. She has no idea that this woman is her mother and she has no reason to suspect anything other than she’s the lovely lady next door. What Laila Robins is able to do — the way she plays between this very serious, dangerous woman and this incredibly sweet lady next door is an absolute blast to watch.

I noted before that there are some facts that raise questions - like how did Katarina not know where Dom lived when she supposedly last saw him almost 30 years ago in the rear view mirror of his Wagoneer at a P.O. Box in America? Well, that P.O. Box is supposedly in Wilmington, New York, upstate New York - very close to the Canadian border (according to episode 6.17 when Ressler visits there). I’m not sure that’s anywhere near Dom’s house, which certainly seems a good bit closer to Washington DC given the speed with which everyone seems to be able to get there from DC, Annapolis, etc. And there’s millions of houses between Wilmington, New York and Annapolis, Maryland. So while I know the Task Force and others seem to move at warp speed in this show, for now, I’m willing to accept that what they stated is true, and that Katarina didn’t know exactly where Dom lived until she followed the tracker in Mila’s neck. It’s not a huge plot hole to me.

Likewise, Masha/Katarina’s drawings. I saw a post (I think on Reddit) saying that the fact that Liz (and perhaps Katarina?) once drew a brown house with a blue door is concrete evidence that Liz must have visited Dom’s current house as a child. I found the drawing from Katarina’s trunk from the Artax Network (3.20). I couldn’t find the second one (supposedly Masha’s) from quick skim through Tom Connolly, Braxton and Ivan (the fire memory episodes) though I vaguely (very vaguely) recall that it exists. Maybe I missed it.

Regardless, I guess I don’t place much stock or emphasis in props these days, four seasons in to following this show pretty obsessively. As far as I am concerned, props are there to create atmosphere – the mood and feel of a scene. No one but the diehard fans will ever look at them again, much less recall them a season later. (And not even all diehard fans since even I can’t find the supposed twin easily while actively looking). Frankly, as the mother of a daughter who loves to draw - a blue door on a child’s drawing (with purple curtains!) means nothing other than those are the child’s favorite color of the moment for a house. No house my daughter has ever drawn looked anything like the houses she has lived in or visited during her life. Nothing about this drawing(s) is enough for me to say aha! - Masha/Liz definitely visited Dom at his current home with the blue door (which btw definitely doesn’t have purple curtains and otherwise looks nothing like the drawing).

Sorry this got so long but I wanted to give what I hope is a thoughtful response to your ask. I’m really interested to learn what turned Katarina so hard against Red. I’m also interested to learn whether it’s connected to Braxton’s Belgrade references and to Red’s apparent slip (or was it?) to Ressler in Zarak Mosadek when he referred to him trying to kill him in Belgrade rather than Brussels as we believed from Anslo Garrick. These are the questions I’m most interested in going forward, not whether Liz’s mother is or isn’t the real deal.

Thanks for the ask!

#the blacklist #anon #katarina rostova

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per-ineptia-ad-astra · 5 years

Text

Star Trek Episode 1.21: The Return of the Archons

AKA: In Star Trek, Neural Network Trains You

Our episode begins with two men running frantically down a deserted, old-fashioned-looking street. The men look a bit old-fashioned themselves, wearing tall boots, waistcoats and tricorne hats, but when one of them trips and falls we see that the other one, stopping to help him up, is Sulu. In and of itself I wouldn’t find this terribly surprising since I just assume 19th-century themed LARPing is the kind of thing Sulu does on his days off, but they both look pretty freaked, so there’s probably something else going on here.

“O’Neil, we’ve got to keep going,” Sulu says, but O’Neil’s feeling a bit less plucky about the situation. “It’s no use, they’re everywhere!” he bemoans as the two of them back up against what appears to be a store window, albeit one completely empty of any merchandise. The desperate urgency of this statement is somewhat undercut by the fact that the camera then shows us all of one person, an anonymous figure wearing a brown hooded robe and carrying a big metal rod, pursuing them down the otherwise empty street. I say ‘pursuing’ but really, it’s more of a mosey than anything.

“Captain gave us an order! We’ve got to find some clue!” Sulu admonishes O’Neil, but O’Neil only reiterates that “It’s no use!” Then he points out another hooded figure approaching from a different direction. Oh, there’s two of them? Oh, well, I stand corrected. You’re definitely screwed.

[ID: An empty street with a large, old stone building at one end, in front of which a single figure in a brown hooded robe is standing.]

ahhhhh the endless hordes ohhhh nooooo

While Sulu and O’Neil are standing around waiting patiently to be cornered by the slowly advancing figures, Sulu kills some time by calling the ship to get them beamed up. Specifically, he calls the bridge, gets Kirk, and tells Kirk they need to be beamed up so that Kirk can then call the transporter room and tell them that the landing party needs to be beamed up, because just calling the transporter room directly might actually have gotten them out of there in time. Naturally, as soon as the situation calls for them to stay where they are so they can get beamed out, O’Neil immediately changes his mind and decides that actually he’d quite like to run away. Sulu yells after him desperately, but it’s no use; O’Neil has scarpered, leaving Sulu to face the approaching figure alone. The very slowly approaching figure.

Despite Sulu’s heroic last stand (heavier on the ‘stand’ than the ‘heroic,’ it must be said), one of the hooded figures manages to reach him, threateningly raising the big length of metal pipe they’re carrying to...gently tap him on the shoulder with it. Evidently this has more serious effects than Sulu being declared It now, because there’s an ominous sound effect and Sulu goes rigid for a moment. Then his expression turns into a blank, empty grin just as he finally gets beamed up.

Upon arrival, our still-grinning navigator staggers somewhat drunkenly on the transporter pad as Kirk hurries in, wanting to know what’s going on, and where’s O’Neil? Yeah, Mr. Transporter Man, where is O’Neil? This need for people to remain perfectly still for the transporter to lock on to them has rather suddenly come out of nowhere, considering a few episodes ago they were able to pluck a man flying a jet fighter out of the sky with no trouble. O’Neil might have run off pretty quick but I rather doubt he was traveling faster than an F-104. Damn thing must be on the fritz again.

Neither Sulu nor the transporter operator answer Kirk’s questions. Sulu just looks at him dreamily and says, “What? Who?” I don’t know what the transporter operator’s excuse is. Then Sulu looks a little more focused (it’s a very low bar) and says, “You’re not of the Body.”

At this point Kirk quite sensibly decides to ctrl-alt-del this entire conversation and just calls for McCoy to get down here pronto. Meanwhile, Sulu has rounded on a nearby blueshirt who’s just hanging out in the transporter room for some unknown reason, and starts yelling, “You, you did it! They knew we were Archons. These are the clothes they wear, not these!” (So, are you saying those clothes were...anarchonistic?) Then he throws his tricorne at the blueshirt and starts taking off his coat for good measure, because taking off his clothes is just how Sulu reacts to being under alien influences. This time he doesn’t get quite as far as in The Naked Time, though, getting distracted partway through by some thought that makes him look up to the ceiling and start grinning again while saying, “Landru...Landru...”

Kirk manages to get Sulu to sit down on the transporter pad and attempts to pry some kind of useful information out of him, but all he gets is some rambling about how “They’re wonderful, the sweetest people in the universe...” and “It’s paradise, my friend.”

McCoy gets there in the middle of this and reacts about how you’d expect.

[ID: McCoy raising an eyebrow and glancing to the side in bewilderment while saying “da fuck.”]

“Sulu, where’s O’Neil?” Kirk asks once again.

“Paradise...” Sulu says happily.

We never get to find out what McCoy considers to be the appropriate medical response to this situation, because at that point the scene cuts to the titles. Afterward we get a captain’s log to shed a very small amount of light on the situation:

“While orbiting planet Beta 3 trying to find some trace of the starship Archon that disappeared here a hundred years ago, a search party consisting of two Enterprise officers were sent to the planet below. Mr. Sulu has returned, but in a highly agitated mental state. His condition requires I beam down with an additional search detail.”

I don’t know if I would call that agitated, per se. It’s sort of the opposite of agitated, really. But never mind that, let’s talk about the fact that the Enterprise has been sent to investigate the whereabouts of a ship that vanished a century ago. At that point we’re well past there being any chance of actually helping any survivors and into ‘historical mystery’ territory. Sure, it’d be good to find out what happened, but was there really not anything of higher priority for the Enterprise, of all ships, to be doing? This is like telling an active Navy cruiser to stop everything and go look for the USS Cyclops. (Look it up.)

Well, Archon or no Archon, there’s clearly something weird going on here and whatever it is ate our best navigator’s brain, so there’s only one thing to do: send even more critical personnel down right into the middle of it to check it out. So Kirk, Spock, McCoy and three other dudes we don’t know beam down all dolled up in what could be called period dress as long as you don’t ask too many questions about exactly what period it is. Special shout-out to Spock, who’s chosen to hide his ears in the most conspicuous manner possible:

[ID: A landing party of six men assembled in two rows on an old-fashioned city street. In the front stand McCoy, wearing a a gray suit with a black bolo tie and carrying a medical case; Kirk, wearing a dark blue coat over suit pants, a patterned gray waistcoat, and a black bolo tie; and Spock, wearing a black knee-length cloak with a square hood over gray suit pants and dress shoes. In the back row are three more crewmembers wearing similar clothing.]

SPOCK SMOCK SPOCK SMOCK SPOCK SMOCK

Incidentally, if any of these streets and buildings look familiar, it’s because the exterior of the town was filmed at RKO 40 Acres, the same multi-purpose backlot that provided the set for Miri, which you may recall also served as the town of Mayberry in The Andy Griffith Show. It kinda makes me wonder if the Andy Griffith crew ever got annoyed at the Star Trek crew for trashing their town multiple times.

As the party gets their bearings, a man holding one hand to his chest wanders past, apparently too busy staring dreamily into the distance to take any notice of the new arrivals. Spock and Kirk take immediate notice of how much this resembles the state Sulu was in. “If everyone on this planet is like him...” Kirk muses, but doesn’t bother giving us the end to that sentence. Probably it wasn’t supposed to be “...then where can I get some?” but that’s the first thing to come to mind.

They head off down the street, and soon encounter another local wearing the same vacant expression, and also a bowler hat. This one actually stops and addresses them, though, saying, “Joy to you, friends,” with the hand-on-chest gesture the first guy was doing. Well, when in Rome, etc, so Kirk also puts his hand on his chest and replies, “Joy to you,” while behind him Spock chimes in with a distinctly half-hearted attempt at the same gesture.

The local continues, “You be strangers. Come for the festival, are ya?” For some reason the actor here has chosen to go with the most goofily over-enunciated accent he could possibly manage. It sticks out like a sore thumb because no one else in the town sounds remotely like that; they tend to sound a bit spacey, but nothing more than that. Indeed, I’m quite sure that no real existing human being has ever naturally sounded like this dude. But hey, I guess that’s one way to make your five minutes of screen time memorable.

Kirk’s happy to go with this conveniently offered explanation for their presence. Sure! Festival! Definitely! That is definitely why we are here, absolutely.

The guy then asks if they have a place to “sleep it off” yet. When Kirk shakes his head, the guy suggests they go find the house of someone called Reger. “He’s got rooms...but you’ll have to hurry. It’s almost the Red Hour.” Oh, that sounds...fun.

Sure enough there’s a clock on the nearby building reading about two minutes to six, which is barely enough time to put directions to Reger’s house into Wayz, let alone to get there. Unfortunately the party is still trapped in the iron grip of small talk with a dude who clearly sees no reason whatsoever to draw any association between “you’ll have to hurry” and “now it’s time to stop casually chatting.” But that’s small towns for you. I have occasionally come pretty close to having to gnaw my own arm off to escape conversations at the library check-out desk, and were meteors to start falling outside I would not expect the lady scanning my books to speed up one little bit.

At that moment, a couple of women come drifting serenely down the sidewalk nearby, giving Bowler Hat the chance to rope even more people into the conversation. “Tula, these folks come for the festival,” he says to one of them. “Your daddy can put them up, can’t he?” Tula, who looks slightly less spacey than Bowler Hat (a low bar) asks if the party is from the valley. One of the three as-yet-anonymous crewmembers, eager to make a contribution, chimes in that they’ve just arrived. Sure is convenient that everyone around here only asks leading questions.

Tula says sure, her dad would be happy to put them up. But it’s too late: just as she says this, the clock begins tolling six. The effect on the town is immediate. Tula, Bowler Hat, and everyone else in sight break into a frenzy, screaming, throwing hats and gloves, hitting each other, breaking things, and generally rampaging like an Instant Angry Mob, Just Add Water. The stunned landing party run for cover while people go wild all around them. Unfortunately one of them does get beaned by a remarkably soft bit of debris in the process.

[ID: A gif showing the landing party, led by Kirk, running through a street while various debris gets thrown around. One piece hits one of the crewmen in the head, causing him to throw his hands up, but not stop running.]

They find a nearby building to run into, quickly close the door, and only then turn around to see three very confused older men standing there staring at them. Kirk apologizes for bursting in on them, explaining that they weren’t prepared for “this kind of a welcome.” One of the men asks if they’re strangers and Kirk says yes, they came from the valley and they’re here for the festival. This answer doesn’t seem to satisfy the men as well as it did Bowler Hat, though, because the speaker asks, “How come you here?” Before Kirk can try to answer this, one of the crewmembers (the same one who spoke before, of course; what, you think they could afford to have all three of them talk? Talking’s expensive!) asks if the guy is Reger. The guy says yes, and then confirms that Tula is his daughter. “Well you better do something!” the ‘shirt yells. “She’s outside!”

Reger, however, doesn’t look at all taken aback by this news, just sad. “I know,” he says. “It’s Festival. It’s the will of Landru.”

At that point, one of Reger’s companions interrupts, pointing out that these new strangers are “young men, not old enough to be excused.” Oh, that’s okay, we’ve got McCoy here, he can write everyone a quick doctor’s note. Reger points out that they’re visitors, but the other man isn’t about to be content with that. “Well, have they no lawgivers in the valley?” he demands. “Why be they not at the festival?”

Rather than attempt to navigate the weird backroads of this conversation any further, Kirk aims to distract by telling Reger that they heard he might have some rooms for them. Reger looks relieved at this. “You see, Hacom?” he tells the complaining man. “They’ve merely come looking for a place to rest afterwards.” Hacom is still not appeased: “The Red Hour has already struck!”

The third man steps in then and tries to help soothe Hacom, telling him that “the valley has different ways.” But Hacom’s got a good head of outrage built up by now and he’s not about to concede it for anyone. “Do you say that Landru is not everywhere?!” he demands, with much the same kind of self-righteous huffiness of a man bitching out a Starbucks barista for wishing him happy holidays instead of merry Christmas.

“No, of course not,” the third man says, still gamely trying to defuse things. “It’s simply that they have different ways.”

“They’ve come looking for shelter,” Reger says, with what he clearly hopes is a sense of finality. “Can I turn them away?”

He turns and makes as if to lead the landing party up the nearby stairs, but the concerned ‘shirt stops him and asks again about Tula. “She is in Festival, as you should be!” Hacom snaps. As Reger finally manages to get the landing party upstairs Hacom turns to the remaining man and says that “the Lawgivers should know.” He is distinctly not amused when the other man tries to point out that surely the Lawgivers already know since they’re infallible, which Hacom takes as mockery toward the Lawgivers. “The strangers are not of the Body!” he yells as he stalks outside in a huff. “You will see!”

Upstairs, Reger has taken the party to a room with several beds, where he putters around opening the windows (revealing that somehow, full dark has fallen in the five minutes or so that they’ve been inside) and saying that the group can come back there after Festival, when they’ll be in need of rest. Kirk tells him they have no intention of attending Festival. This leaves Reger stunned and confused, but not nearly as stunned and confused as he is a moment later when Kirk says that he’d like to know more about the Festival, and about this ‘Landru’ person. At that, Reger freaks out, slamming the window closed again and spluttering incoherently before finally managing to say “Well...you’re strange.” Then he tries to ask, “Are you...are you...” but can’t quite make it. Undaunted by this, Kirk asks about Landru once again, causing Reger to freak out even more.

Outside, meanwhile, it’s still total chaos. Things are on fire, people are screaming, the works. Special shout-out to the guy who just straight-up throws himself through an entire window.

[ID: A gif showing a man running past a glass window with a chair right before another man runs up and jumps through the window, shattering the glass.]

And now, the weather.

By the time we cut back to the landing party, some time seems to have passed, as Reger is absent and Kirk is busy brooding at the window. Having evidently seen enough, he turns back to the group and says, “My guess is we have until morning. Let’s put the time to good use.” He tells McCoy to take some readings to see if there’s anything in the air that might account for all this and Lindstrom—the ‘shirt who was concerned about Tula—to “correlate everything that you’ve seen with any other sociological parallels, if any.” Oh man, Lindstrom got the hard homework. Kirk then turns to Spock and says, “You and I have some serious thinking to do. When we leave here tomorrow, I want to have a plan of action.”

Apparently all that thinking really takes it out of you, because the next thing we see is the gas lamp by the door having burned out, while in the interim almost everyone has passed out on some piece of furniture or another. Kirk remains somewhat awake, leaning half-asleep against the post of the bunk bed with a blanket wrapped around him, while Spock is laying flat on his back on a top bunk with his hands on his chest and his eyes wide open like Dracula. I don’t know he’s awake or if that’s just how Spock sleeps. Could go either way.

Kirk meanders sleepily over to the window and looks out. The rioting is still going strong, even though the sun has risen and the town clock is reading a few minutes to six. As the clock strikes six a moment later, the people below all suddenly freeze where they are. Then they all begin to calmly meander off in different directions, the rioting over just as abruptly as it began.

Kirk goes to wake up/get the attention of Spock, then rouses Lindstrom and then McCoy, who’s fallen asleep in some kind of chair-bed thing. The silence is suddenly broken by the sound of a woman crying loudly downstairs, which accelerates the waking-up process considerably. Everyone hastens downstairs to see Reger holding Tula, who’s sobbing hysterically, while Reger’s friend from last night hovers awkwardly patting her on the shoulder and such. McCoy gently pulls Tula away into another room, and when Reger tries to follow Kirk stops him, saying, “He’ll give her a shot, it’ll calm her down. Trust us.” Yeah, Reger! Trust the total strangers to medicate your daughter! What could go wrong?

Lindstrom breaks in angrily, demanding to know what kind of father Reger is that he didn’t even attempt to rescue Tula last night. Reger helplessly says that it was Landru’s will. Lindstrom, I know you’re righteously angry right now, but there’s a thing called “making half an effort to blend in with the locals so they don’t cut your head off.” Here, let Kirk show you how it’s done.

[ID: Kirk standing slightly behind Reger, a concerned looking middle-aged white man with brown hair in a dark gray suit, and another, older white man with gray hair and a similar suit. Kirk is saying, “What about Landru? Who is he?”]

oh for fuck’s sake

“So it’s true then,” Reger’s friend says. “You didn’t attend the festival last night?” No, Kirk says. “Then you’re not of the Body,” Reger muses. “You couldn’t be...”

The two of them hurry off in consternation, and the rest of the party follows, into the side room where McCoy and Spock have taken Tula. Speaking of Tula, she’s now thoroughly passed out. Evidently McCoy wasn’t kidding around with that shot.

“Are you...are you Archons?” Reger asks Kirk.

“What if we are?” Kirk replies, smoothly sidestepping out of that minefield of a question.

“It was said more would follow,” Reger says uncertainly. “If you are indeed--”

“We must hide them, quickly,” his friend interrupts. “The Lawgivers--” Kirk tries to assure him that they can take care of themselves, but assured he is not. “Landru will know,” he says. “He will come.”

Turns out that wasn’t hyperbole, because all of about two seconds later, a couple of the same brown-hooded figures that were harassing Sulu and O’Neil come bursting into the room, metal rods at the ready.

[ID: The landing party along with Reger and his friend all assembled in an old-fashioned sitting room and looking towards the doors, which are flanked by two men wearing brown hooded robes and carrying tall metal rods.]

NOBODY EXPECTS THE LAWGIVER INQUISITION

Accompanying them is Hacom, the damn narc, who smugly proclaims that Reger’s friend has been mocking the Lawgivers, and also those punks over there didn’t attend Festival like good citizens. “Tamar. Stand Clear,” one of the Lawgivers intones at Reger’s friend, in a robotic and slightly reverb-y voice. Both Reger and Tamar look stricken, but after a moment Tamar slowly says, “I hear and obey the voice of Landru,” and steps out in front of Reger. The Lawgiver raises their Rod of Lordly Might and the end of it fizzles and pops like a handful of cheap sparklers, which is probably exactly what it was. Tamar collapses on the spot, dead.

As Reger and Kirk grab Tamar and gently lower him to the ground, the Lawgiver speaks again. “You. Attacked. The Body. You Have Heard The Word. And Disobeyed. You Will Be Exterminated Absorbed.”

“What do you mean, absorbed?” Kirk asks. I’m going to give you a tip for free here: if someone tells you “you will be absorbed” that is not the time to stand around asking questions. Get out of there and you can figure out the details later, cause one thing you can be sure of is that there is no scenario where that could possibly end up being a good thing.

Hacom immediately crows that this is proof the strangers are “not of the Body” but the Lawgivers don’t seem to pay him any attention. “You Will Be Absorbed,” Kirk is told. “The Good Is All. Landru Is Gentle. You Will Come.”

After the break, Kirk, still looking unimpressed by all this, tells the Lawgivers, “We’re not going anywhere.”

“It Is The Law,” the Lawgiver tells him. “You Must Come.”

“I said we’re not going anywhere,” Kirk repeats calmly, while Reger clings onto his arm with a look of absolute terror.

But instead of resorting to force, the Lawgivers turn to face each other and just stand there for a moment. “Evidently they’re not prepared to deal with outright disobedience,” Spock notes curiously. “How did you know?” Kirk replies that everything they’ve seen so far indicates that the people in this place have a compulsive stimulus of some kind towards actions beyond their control, so he banked on the Lawgivers not being able to deal with people who couldn’t just be ordered around. Absolutely nobody feels inclined to take advantage of this brief respite by, say, climbing out the convenient nearby window or anything.

Eventually the Lawgivers turn back to the party. “It Is Clear That You Simply Did Not Understand,” the speaking one says. “I Will Rephrase. You Are Ordered To Accompany Us To The Absorption Chambers.”

“Why did you kill that man?” Kirk demands.

“Out Of Order,” the Lawgiver says. “You Will Obey. It Is The Word Of Landru.”

“You tell Landru,” Kirk says, “that we’ll come in our own time and we’ll speak to him.” Then he grabs the Lawgiver’s staff and hands it to Spock, who starts poking around with it.

“You Cannot,” the Lawgiver says. “It Is Landru.”

At this point Hacom evidently loses his nerve and rushes out of the room, whimpering, “Landru!” Meanwhile, Spock observes that the Lawgiver’s staff is just an empty tube without any kind of mechanism inside it.

The Lawgivers have to stop and buffer once again, only this time they’re making a strange noise. “They’re communing,” Reger says. “We have time, come with me.” He can take them to a place where they’ll be safe, he says, but they have to hurry before Landru comes.

So he leads them outside, where he starts walking casually down the street, smiling and nodding and doing the ‘peace’ gesture at people as they pass. Kirk puts rather less effort into being surreptitious and keeps loudly talking to Spock while they make their way across town, asking him what he makes of all this weirdness. Unsurprisingly, Spock finds it all “totally illogical.” Yesterday, for no apparent reason, the entire town broke out into total havoc. “Yet today, now--” “--Now, they’re back to normal,” Kirk finishes. I mean, if you want to call that normal. Arguably the way they’re acting now is less normal than the rioting and screaming.

As they walk, Bowler Hat Man approaches them with a cheerful “Morning, friends.” Reger greets him back casually, but Lindstrom recognizes him and rushes up to Reger, saying, “Your daughter—that’s the man!” The man who...well, we didn’t see what happened, exactly, but we did see Bilar grab Tula while the whole town was breaking out in a wild frenzy, and the next time we saw Tula she was sobbing frantically, so...draw your own conclusions.

But Reger seems neither surprised nor upset by the accusation. “No, it wasn’t Bilar, it was Landru,” he says impatiently, before telling them all they need to hurry. Which is easier said than done—moseying and hurrying at the same time is a difficult proposition.

Despite their best efforts, the group hasn’t gotten much farther before Reger stops and says, “It’s too late—look!” For a moment it doesn’t look as if anything much has happened, but then the party realizes that everyone on the street has stopped dead in their tracks. It’s Landru, Reger says—he’s summoning the Body. Or, as Spock helpfully chimes in, “Telepathy, Captain.”

A moment later, the townspeople all start reaching down and picking up bits of the debris that’s littering the area. Specifically, the bits that are rather heavy and blunt, like bricks and bits of masonry and big sticks. Oh dear. “Phasers on stun,” Kirk says. Yeah, no kidding.

Abandoning the pretense of normality, Reger leads the group off at a jog down the street as the dead-eyed townspeople advance on them. It’s admittedly a bit creepy. There might not have been enough extras to sell the idea of an entire town in full riot, but there are enough to make a decent-sized mob. It’s just a shame they advance so very slowly. And that, when the party turns into an alley and sees more people coming up it from the other end, they just kind of stop and hang out there for a moment to let themselves get cornered, even though the rest of the mob isn’t nearly close enough behind them that they couldn’t just turn around and keep going in another direction.

[ID: The landing party and Reger huddled in a group at the mouth of an alley while a mob slowly approaches from several yards away.]

had a D&D game once that ended up remarkably like this

Kirk says he doesn’t want to hurt them, and tells Reger to warn them back, but Reger says “They’re in the Body, it’s Landru!” In other words, they’re possessed, and not about to listen to Reger or anyone. So the group has to fire on the townspeople approaching up the alleyway. Evidently Landru’s powers over people don’t extend to making them phaser-proof, because everyone hit by the beams drops where they stand, only for them to be immediately replaced by more townspeople in their wake. The whole ‘unstoppable zombie horde’ vibe is, again, unfortunately a bit diminished by a sheer lack of numbers—given the population of this town as we’ve seen it so far, and how slowly they move, the party could probably just easily stand there and keep firing until the whole town is unconscious. It’d probably take about five minutes, tops.

Also, one of the supposedly stunned townspeople rather noticeably catches himself on the way down.

[ID: A gif showing several townspeople at the end of an alley, all holding aloft various sticks and bits of debris, as a stun beam hits them, causing them to fall to the ground. A man in front catches himself with one hand and lowers himself the rest of the way.]

Despite my tactical advice, the crew decides to make a run for it down the alley after clearing away some of the mob, but as they’re on the move McCoy stops suddenly and kneels by one of the fallen men. It’s O’Neil. Evidently running didn’t turn out any better for him than standing still did for Sulu. Kirk tells Reger that this is one of their men, but Reger says that he isn’t, not anymore. “He’s one of them!” he cries. “Landru will find us through him! Leave him there, he’s our enemy, he’s been absorbed!”

Yeah, three guesses as to whether Kirk is about to leave one of his crewmembers laying unconscious and brainwashed in the path of a relentless mob, and the first two don’t count. One of the ‘shirts does point out, though, that now that they’ve found O’Neil they could go ahead and beam the heck outta this whole mess. Kirk says no, because they still haven’t found their answers about what happened to the Archons. I mean, sure, but...is that really more of a priority right now than escaping the mob that’s out for your blood, and getting to a safe space where you could regroup, tend to your unconscious party member, and question Reger without having to worry about some hooded jerks with big sticks bursting in on you at any time? Apparently it is, because a couple of people haul O’Neil off the ground and they all hurry off.

Exactly where Reger’s hiding place is we don’t get to find out, but evidently they get there alright, because the next thing we see is him pushing open a heavy stone door that leads into a distinctly dungeon-ish looking room. Everyone hurries inside, and Reger pushes aside an old bedframe to get to an alcove where someone’s left a big plastic square wrapped in heavy cloth. At least, it looks like a big plastic square, but Kirk identifies it as a lighting panel and it does, indeed, light up. “Amazing in this culture,” Spock comments. Yeah, it is a bit anachronistic next to the brazier over there.

Reger hangs it up on the wall to illuminate the room and says that it “comes from a time before Landru.” Asked just how long ago that was, he says that no one knows for sure, but some say it was as long as six thousand years ago. Six thousand years and it still works? Man, and I thought the Centennial Light was impressive.

Kirk has the two still-nameless ‘shirts go stand guard at the door while he and Spock muse over how weird it is that the lighting panel clearly came from a much more technologically advanced culture than the one currently occupying the place. Meanwhile, McCoy has had O’Neil brought over to what remains of the bed and is busy examining him. He gives Kirk an ‘in a minute’ gesture, so Kirk goes back to pacing and speculating, wondering if the Lawgiver’s rods might be some kind of antennae or broadcasting devices for transmitting the power of Landru in all its sparkly glory. Meanwhile, Spock is looking at his tricorder, which is apparently picking up “strong power generations...near here, but radiating in all directions.”

McCoy interjects to say that O’Neil will be coming around soon. “He must not!” Reger protests frantically. “He’s been absorbed!” This is followed by a dramatic chord and Kirk turning to Reger and going “Absorbed??” as if Reger didn’t already say the exact same thing twice back in the alley. I suppose he was a bit distracted at the time, but still.

“The Body absorbs its enemies,” Reger explains. “It only kills when it has to. When the first Archons came they were free, out of control, opposing the will of Landru. Many were killed, many more were absorbed. When he regains consciousness, Landru will find us through him. And if the others come--”

What others? Kirk asks. Reger explains that he means other people like him, who oppose Landru. They’re organized in threes—Reger was part of a cell consisting of him, Tamar, and one other person whom he doesn’t actually know, because Tamar was his contact. Evidently they’re doing the standard Resistance thing of limiting what individual members know in case they get captured, which is even more important when your adversary can control minds.

McCoy interrupts to say yeah that’s all great, but he needs a decision here, because O’Neil is coming out of it. Reger protests once again that O’Neil can’t be allowed to wake up, and Kirk mulls it over for a moment before telling McCoy, “Give him a shot. Keep him asleep.” Man, McCoy’s handing out sleepy shots left and right this episode. He must have a stash hidden in that waistcoat somewhere.

While McCoy does that, Kirk draws Reger over to a nearby table and says that he wants some answers. For one thing, if Landru’s so powerful, how is there a resistance movement at all? Reger doesn’t know how it happened, only that some people have escaped “the directives.” “It was that way when the first Archons came,” he adds.

Reger’s obviously not entirely clear on what was up with the Archons, understandably given that it was a hundred years ago and detailed history is probably hard to keep track of around here if you’re not part of the hivemind, but he says that “Landru pulled them down from the skies” and that they invaded the Body but at least in part resisted Landru’s will. Kirk gets interested in that first bit, interpreting it as Landru bringing down a starship. Spock confirms that the power readings he’s getting are over nine thousand powerful enough to destroy a starship. Kirk sure doesn’t like the sound of that, so he calls up the Enterprise to check up on how un-destroyed it is. The answer’s not real great: Scotty picks up and reports that the ship is under attack by “heat beams of some kind coming up from the planet’s surface.”

The shields are holding so far, but keeping them up is taking all of the ship’s power, so much so that if they can’t even move without being burned up. Oh, and the orbit is failing, because of course it is, you can’t keep an orbit going round here for anything. Although presumably they are still in an orbit right now, which begs the question of where these heat beams are coming from that they can stay locked onto the ship no matter which side of the planet it’s facing. I guess Landru really is everywhere. Anyway, if they can’t shake the heat beams long enough to use the engines, Scotty reports grimly, they’ve only got about twelve hours left before the orbit decays and they hit the atmosphere. Cool. Were you gonna like, call up and let the landing party know about this at some point, or…?

Kirk basically tells him to hang in there, since there’s not exactly much more that they can do, while the landing party works on taking out those heat beams at the source. Scotty starts to talk about how he tried the emergency bypass circuits, but they weren’t effective—they never are, I don’t know why he even bothers—but then he starts breaking up. Spock reports that he’s picking up some very strong sensor beams—something’s probing them, and it’s too strong for him to block it.

Just then, there’s a strange whirring noise, preceding the arrival of a holographic image (or, possibly, ghost) appearing against the wall. Specifically, it’s an image of a dude wearing a purple and pink-cape-toga-thing and looking incredibly smug for someone with no apparent arms.

[ID: A semi-transparent image being projected onto a stone wall, which shows a middle-aged white man with thick light brown hair, wearing a long purple robe over a black high-necked shirt, with a shiny pinkish-orange cape on top.]

“I am Landru,” the image announces.

Spock is unimpressed. “Projection, captain,” he announces. “Unreal.”

“But beautiful, Mr. Spock, with no apparatus at this end,” Kirk muses. I dunno, man, the pink cape thing is certainly a bold choice but I think ‘beautiful’ is a bit of a stretch.

“You have come as destroyers,” the projection of Landru continues, heedless of the commentary from the audience. “You bring an infection.” Kirk insists that Landru release the Enterprise, but Landru carries blithely on. “You have come to a world without hate, without fear, without conflict. No war, no disease, no crime. None of the ancient evils. Landru seeks tranquility. Peace for all. The universal good.” Yeah, it looked real peaceful and conflict-free last night.

Kirk tries to tell Landru that they mean no harm, and that theirs “is a mission of peace and goodwill.” (That’s why we brought phasers!) Landru just keeps talking about good transcending evil, etc, etc, until Spock points out that “He doesn’t hear you, Captain.” Honestly not sure if he means that Landru literally has no way to hear them or if he can hear them but just keeps right on monologuing anyway cause, y’know, we’ve all met That Dude.

“Maybe he’ll hear this!” Lindstrom says, charging forward with his phaser out. Oh yeah, great job there Lindy, let’s SHOOT the HOLOGRAM. Kirk tells Lindstrom to cut that shit out so he can get back to talking to Landru which, admittedly, is really doing just about as much good as shooting the wall would.

“You will be absorbed,” Landru says. “Your individuality will merge into the unity of good, and in your submergence into the common being of the Body, you will find contentment and fulfillment. You will experience...the absolute good.” See, I told you it wouldn’t mean anything good.

At this point, a high-pitched whirring noise that’s been steadily but mostly unnoticeably rising through the background music suddenly peaks, causing everyone to start clutching at their heads in pain. The two ‘shirts guarding the door are the first to drop to their knees, with the rest of the party succumbing quickly afterward.

What follows is a wonderful opportunity to observe several different styles of Slowly Passing Out. Nimoy looks like he’s going to go one way but then changes his mind and falls backward onto the table instead until he’s laying on his back looking up. Christopher Held (Lindstrom) takes the bold move of just falling straight to the ground in a dead drop, while Kelley, no fool he, is back there doing a complex maneuver involving hanging onto the bedpost to slow his own descent. Shatner, of course, goes for the most extra route possible, pitching forward onto the table while clutching his head and then slowly falling down into the chair. I give full marks to everyone except Harry Townes (Reger) who was already sitting down and didn’t have very far to go in the first place.

[ID: A gif showing Kirk, Lindstrom, Spock, McCoy, and Reger clutching their heads and slowly collapsing on and around a nearby table.]

After the break, Kirk gives a captain’s log, which is quite impressive considering he’s currently unconscious.

“The Enterprise, still under attack by some sort of heat rays from the surface of Beta 3, is now being commanded by engineering officer Scott. The shore party has been taken by the creature called Landru.”

We briefly see the Enterprise in orbit around the planet (heat rays not pictured), before cutting to the landing party, now relocated to an even more dungeon-like room than the one they were in before. Kirk wakes up, staggers out of the alcove he was laying in, and goes to investigate the other end of the room, where Lindstrom and one of the unnamed ‘shirts are passed out in another alcove. Some further investigation reveals that Kirk is no longer carrying either phaser or communicator, and that the only apparent exit to the place is less of a door and more just a giant slab of stone in a doorway, which Kirk predictably has absolutely no luck moving. Eventually he gives up and goes back to wake up Spock, Lindstrom, and the other ‘shirt, who he addresses as Leslie.

We’ve seen Leslie quite a few times already—actor Eddie Paskey was a recurring extra who frequently filled the role of oddjob Enterprise crewmembers whenever one was needed. Like in the case of Kyle and the other TOS background regulars, it’s difficult to tell how many of Paskey’s appearances should actually be taken to be the same person, since not only does he go through a couple different names before ‘Leslie’ finally gets used, but for all of his characters to be Leslie would require him to go through jobs at a rate unlikely even for Enterprise crewmembers. Still, he gets referred to as Leslie more often than he gets called anything else, so he’s probably Leslie at least most of the time.

Spock, noticing that they’re a couple of heads short all of a sudden, asks where McCoy is. Kirk tells him he doesn’t know, since McCoy was gone before Kirk even woke up, along with O’Neil and “the other guard.” Oh yeah, “the other guard.” Great job remembering your crew’s names there, captain. Actually, said guard is probably named Galloway or possibly Galoway, yet another one of those amorphous extras; Galloway, however, is pretty consistently a security officer (aside from a brief stint as transporter operator) and while he won’t be referred to by name until his next appearance, he’s not called any other names until then, so in this case it’s fairly reasonable to assume that all or least most appearances of actor David L. Ross can be taken to be the same character. Not that it makes any real difference, since he has no personality whatsoever.

Anyway, Spock thinks McCoy and Galloway must have been here but were removed at some point. Kirk wonders where “here” is. “Evidently a maximum security establishment,” Spock replies. That may or may not have been sarcasm. Honestly it’s hard to tell with Spock sometimes.

Kirk also informs Spock that “all our phasers are gone, I checked” even though we’ve been watching him this whole time and he definitely didn’t check anyone but himself, but never mind that. Lindstrom and Leslie finally make it up, looking rather the worse for wear, with Lindstrom mentioning having a killer headache (Leslie probably has one too, but we’d have to pay him more if he said anything). Spock says that this is because they were all subjected to a hypersonic attack, which probably would have killed them had it been any stronger. Instead it just knocked them out, and possibly gave them tinnitus.

Enough about sound waves, Kirk wants to focus on coming up with a way out of this dungeon. He hopefully mentions the way the Lawgivers seemed unable to react to anything unexpected, but Spock shoots that one down, saying they shouldn’t count on it happening again because “in a society as well-organized as this one appears to be, I cannot conceive of such an oversight going uncorrected.” That said, he still finds that behavior to be very interesting, because the way the Lawgivers reacted was a lot like the way a computer would react to being given insufficient or contradictory data. He doesn’t think this means the Lawgivers themselves are computers—but it’s definitely an interesting data point.

At that moment, the door opens and a Lawgiver escorts McCoy and Galloway inside. Kirk rushes over to them, only to see McCoy smile blandly at him and say, “Hello, friend. We were told to wait here.” Oh dear.

Now real concerned, Kirk starts to say “Doc--” but McCoy just turns to him and says, “Can I help you, friend?”

“Don’t you know me?” Kirk asks desperately.

“We all know one another through Landru,” McCoy replies.

Just like Sulu, Spock observes grimly. But Kirk’s having a hard time holding onto his objectivity. It’s one thing to hear Reger talk about Landru doing this to people, even to see it happen to members of his own crew—but this is McCoy. His friend. Kirk grabs him by the shoulders and yells at him to remember—but McCoy just looks confused and asks if Kirk is from “away” because he speaks very strangely. Then even that brief moment of emotion fades away and he returns to smiling. “Ask Landru,” he says. “He remembers. He knows, and he watches.”

Kirk eventually has to give up and leave McCoy sitting in the alcove with the guard. He turns to Spock, but before they can even begin to confer on this problem, the door opens again to admit a couple of Lawgivers. One of them points their rod threateningly at Kirk and orders him to come with them. Kirk tries his previous trick of just refusing, but as Spock predicted, that bug has evidently been patched, because this time the Lawgiver calmly replies, “Then You Will Die.”

It seems there’s not much choice but for Kirk to get going, so with one final order for Spock to see if he can do anything about McCoy’s whole situation, he follows the Lawgiver out the door. Spock watches him go before turning to McCoy and asking what’s going to happen to Kirk. “He goes to joy, peace and tranquility,” McCoy says happily. “He goes to meet Landru. Happiness is to all of us blessed by Landru.” Spock gives this statement the side-eye it deserves.

We then see Kirk in another room, standing up against a wall with some heavy-duty wrist restraints in place.

[ID: Kirk standing up against a wall, being restrained by two large bars holding his wrists in place, while two Lawgivers stand in front of him, pointing their rods at him.]

This is only happiness to a very specific subset of people.

But before Kirk can meet his grim fate, the Lawgivers are interrupted by someone else coming in. This is not another Lawgiver, however, but a bald man in bright orange robes, who speaks—well, I can’t exactly say he speaks normally because no one around here does, but he at least doesn’t sound like he’s speaking through a knock-off toy Darth Vader helmet. “I am Marplon,” he tells the Lawgivers. “It is your hour. Happy communing.”

“With Thanks. Hap-py Comm-uning,” one Lawgiver replies, and they both head off to take a smoke break or whatever the Lawgiver equivalent is. Marplon steps into the nearby control booth and flicks some switches, causing the booth to slowly rotate around to face Kirk (presumably with the aid of an extra and a pulley somewhere behind the camera) while a dramatic sting plays.

Meanwhile, back in the dungeon, Spock is poking around at McCoy. Evidently someone leaning over you and almost poking you in the eye as they put their hands all over your face isn’t considered bothersome behavior under the directives of Landru, since McCoy seems perfectly fine with it and just sits there calmly while Spock does whatever it is he’s doing. Eventually, Spock grimly pulls his hands away and says, “Impossible. He’s under extremely powerful control.”

You kind of have to wonder what Spock saw in there. The nature of Landru’s control is a bit vague on the details—do members of the Body possess any degree of personality and individuality, smothered though it may be under a stupor of happy-happy-peace-and-tranquility thoughts? Or are they all being outright puppeteered by Landru? They at least seem to have enough personality to have names, and the fact that they stop and have discussions with each other seems to indicate that they aren’t a total hivemind—Tula has to be informed out loud by Bilar that the landing party are strangers in town, rather than her just knowing it automatically as soon as he knew it. But McCoy doesn’t show any sign of retaining any amount of McCoy-ness after he gets taken. He doesn’t remember Kirk and Spock at all, he doesn’t use any of his usual mannerisms, he doesn’t—as we’ll see in a bit—respond to perceived threats the way McCoy usually does, and in general he doesn’t act like McCoy-but-unnaturally-happy-and-calm so much as he acts like a completely different person. So when Spock says he’s under “powerful control” it’s hard to say whether he means that he saw McCoy being forced to feel peaceful and loyal to Landru, or if he saw McCoy in there, somewhere, possibly even aware, but no longer able to control his own actions. Either way, it’s a pretty damn creepy thought.

Unsatisfied with Spock’s analysis, Lindstrom asks if they’re, what, just going to stand around here and do nothing? Spock replies that there’s not a lot they can do, unless Lindstrom has any bright ideas about how to get through a solid stone door. Lindstrom clearly does not, because instead he just splutters about how “This is simply ridiculous, a bunch of stone age characters running around in robes--!” as if he’s got half a mind to just march out there and tell everyone to stop all this nonsense and behave, at which point presumably the Lawgivers will drop their rods and shuffle away in embarrassment. I can only conclude that Mr. Lindstrom has not been serving aboard the Enterprise very long, otherwise he would know that this is hardly any more ridiculous than the usual kind of thing they get up to. You notice Leslie over there isn’t saying anything. Leslie’s seen some shit.

Spock coolly points out that these “stone age characters” are in command of some powers that the Enterprise crew have so far been helpless to understand or resist. “Not simple. Not ridiculous,” he says. “Very, very dangerous.”

On the one hand, this could easily just be your standard sarcastic Spock response of the sort commonly seen whenever someone decides to start running their mouth off in his vicinity, but you have to wonder if he’s not also feeling particularly ticked off at Lindstrom scorning this whole situation, considering that Spock just got done with a close examination of exactly how powerful a grip Landru currently has on the mind of one of Spock’s two close friends. And his other close friend has just been taken off to have the same thing done to him, with Spock powerless to stop it. I mean, let’s put that in non-science fiction terms: imagine you woke up to find you’d been taken captive, and some of the people you were with, including a friend of yours, aren’t there. And then your captors show up and throw them back in your cell, and when you examine your friend you realize that, while you have no idea what happened to him while he was gone, he came back so badly concussed he doesn’t know who you are or where he is, and can’t even answer a simple question. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Your other friend has just been dragged off for the same treatment, and there was nothing you could do about that, either. And as you stand there, desperately wracking your brain for any way out of this, trying not to think about the state your other friend will be in when he comes back, this punk starts whining about how ridiculous the situation is, as if he’s more upset about being bested by what he views as an inferior opponent than by the damage those opponents have already caused, and the very real threat those of you remaining are still facing. Granted, I don’t think that’s what Lindstrom actually meant; he was probably just expressing understandable if poorly-worded frustration at being helpless to do anything in a situation where it feels like you really should be able to do something. But it’s not real surprising that Spock would feel rather cheesed at him about it. Y’know, if Vulcans felt cheesed, which of course they don’t.

At that point, the door opens and two more Lawgivers come in. One of them points their rod at Spock and orders him to come with them. Spock more or less shrugs and follows them out the door, leaving Lindstrom and Leslie alone to ruminate about how screwed they are.

The Lawgivers take Spock to the brainwashing room, where Marplon is releasing Kirk from the restraints. Kirk walks over to Spock with a vacant smile and tells him, “Joy to you, friend. Peace and contentment will fill you. You will know the peace of Landru.” Spock doesn’t say anything, but his expression indicates that he’s gearing up to end somebody over this.

[ID: Spock, being escorted by two Lawmakers, watching as Kirk tells him, “You will know the peace of Landru.” Spock has a particularly murderous expression on his face.]

Spock is gonna KILL GOD.

After the break, things look grim, with Spock—looking highly unimpressed--restrained against the wall while Marplon makes the lights flash and the Lawgivers point their rods at Spock for good measure. But when the Lawgivers have left, Marplon looks up and says, “Have no fear, friend. The effect is harmless.” He introduces himself and explains that he was unfortunately too late to save McCoy and the other guard, so watch out for them. But, as it turns out, he wasn’t too late to save Kirk, who was just faking for the Lawgivers.

Marplon goes on to explain that he is actually the third man in Reger’s triad (wow, small world), and that they’ve been “awaiting your return.” Spock tells him that they are not the Archons, although, really, who or what exactly these people think the Archons are is still pretty hazy. And indeed, Marplon himself doesn’t seem real fussed about the distinction, saying that, “Whatever you may call yourselves, you are in fulfillment of prophecy. We ask your help.” The poor guy is practically trembling with a mixture of enthusiasm and desperation.

Spock asks where Reger is and Marplon says that he’ll join them, adding that Reger is immune to absorption. Exactly why this should be is never explained, and neither is the question of what exactly happened to Reger after the group got captured. One would assume that being in the presence of said group would rather give the game away, but maybe Marplon was able to cover for him somehow.

But never mind Reger—what Spock really wants to know more about is Landru. But upon being asked about him, Marplon gets even more panicky and says they can’t discuss that just now because Landru will hear. Although if Landru could hear them in here, they’d already be screwed, given everything Marplon has just admitted out-loud. My best guess would be that Landru isn’t quite as omniscient as all that and the resistance members are just (understandably) a bit paranoid and superstitious, although I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that, true to form for vengeful deity-types, saying Landru’s name attracts his attention.

Marplon hands Spock a couple of the confiscated phasers, which Spock stows away just before the Lawgivers come back in. Marplon just has time to warn Spock to behave just as he saw Kirk doing before slipping back into his own charade to tell the Lawgivers that “It is done!” Spock obligingly spouts the standard peace and contentment and so on, although I can’t say he puts a great deal of effort into it. The Lawgivers seem to be satisfied, though, because they take him back to the cell without fuss.

Back in the cell, Spock meets up with Kirk. They exchange a bit of “peace and tranquility” talk very loudly to satisfy McCoy and the other guard, before Kirk drops it and mutters, “Are you alright?” “Quite alright,” Spock replies. “But be careful of Dr. McCoy.” Indeed, as soon as he says this, McCoy rises up in the background ominously.

[ID: A gif of Kirk, Spock and Lindstrom standing in a half-circle near an archway. Spock says, “Be careful of Doctor McCoy.” As Kirk replies, “I understand,” McCoy stands up in the background.]

“I FUCKIN HEARD THAT”

Kirk tries to question Spock, who says he has a theory about Landru, but he’s cautious about sharing it with McCoy hovering in the background glaring at them like that. “You speak in strange whispers,” McCoy says as they turn to look at him. “This is not the way of Landru.”

Of everyone we’ve seen being or pretending to be Landru-possessed in the episode so far, the acting choices have mostly fallen on a spectrum ranging from Takei’s “incredibly high” to Nimoy’s “barely even bothering.” (Shatner falls somewhere in the middle, around “comfortably buzzed.”) Kelley, on the other hand, opted for a direction I can only describe as “intensely Southern passive-aggressiveness.” Perhaps it’s the increased Georgia drawl, but Possessed!McCoy feels eerily familiar, like someone I’ve definitely encountered at the Dollar General before. It’s the exact kind of sinister watchfulness not quite masked by a cheerful, friendly exterior that you would expect to find in that lady at church who would never say the world ‘hell’ but gets a little too excited during the bits of sermon about damnation and is currently engaged in complex political machinations to backstab Becky from next door because she lets her kids play too loudly and sold more brownies at the last bake sale (or just in the average head of a homeowner’s association.) I half expect him to start handing out Chick Tracts at any moment.

Before that can happen, Kirk is able to pacify him with more peace and tranquility, then dramatically claps his hands on Spock and Lindstrom’s shoulders and declares “MY FRIENDS” as he ushers them away to a slightly more private corner of the cell. There Spock is able to go into his theory, such as it is. “This is a soulless society, Captain,” he explains, and given that Vulcans have quantified the existence of the soul he probably knows what he’s talking about. “It has no spirit, no spark. All is indeed peace and tranquility—the peace of the factory, the tranquility of the machine. All parts working in unison.”

“And when something unexplained happens...their routine is disrupted?” Kirk muses. Spock agrees, and says that someone must be giving the orders—but who? Landru, presumably, but Spock says there is no Landru...not in the human sense.

“You’re thinking the same thing I am, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says. “The plug must be pulled.” But if Spock is thinking that, it’s not without some reservations. Because, you know, that whole prime directive thing. They’re really not supposed to go around deposing/assassinating political leaders, even really obnoxious ones. But, Kirk says, after all about two seconds of reflection, that directive is meant for living, growing cultures, which this one ain’t. This would be a fascinating ethical point if it wasn’t so obviously a quick justification to let them get on with saving the day without all that pesky worldbuilding getting in the way.

Conveniently, before Spock can say anything in response to this, the door opens again, but this time instead of more Lawgivers it’s Marplon and Reger. McCoy immediately stands up and says, “JOY TO YOU FRIENDS!” like that guy at Wal-Mart that you were really hoping to avoid having a conversation with but you didn’t sneak out of the cereal aisle quickly enough and now he’s seen you. Marplon and Reger keep up the smiling act until they make it over to the Non-Brainwashed Club at the back of the room. Marplon’s brought them their communicators, which is helpful, but Kirk has something more in mind. What they really need, he tells them, is more information about Landru. Marplon and Reger shake their heads frantically, mumbling about “the prophecy” but Kirk isn’t interested in prophecies. “If you want to be liberated from Landru,” he tells the two men, “we’ll need your help.”

It seems he said that just a bit too loudly, though, because McCoy springs up from his seat, points dramatically, and yells, “You’re not of the Body!” Kirk tries to calm him down, but McCoy isn’t having any more peace and tranquility. He screams for the Lawgivers before rushing Kirk and trying to throttle him, screaming “TRAITORS! TRAITORS!” all the while. (See what I meant about him not responding to threats normally? McCoy wouldn’t bother to try to strangle someone if he could whack ‘em with a hypospray instead.)

The other guard joins in, taking a swing at Kirk, but Spock intercepts and tosses him to the floor. He’s a lot less helpful with McCoy, mostly just kind of standing there watching as McCoy manages to back Kirk up against a wall, still screaming. “Doc, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Kirk begs, but of course, this does nothing. In the end, Kirk has to punch McCoy and then put him in a chokehold until he drops. Kirk slowly lowers him to the floor, sadly muttering, “Aw, doc...”

Just then there’s a noise of someone approaching, and Kirk and Spock quickly duck into cover in the corners. A pair of Lawgivers enter and walk right past them, demonstrating why it’s not a super great idea to dress your law enforcement in big peripheral-vision-obscuring hoods, not to mention why most jail cells aren’t designed to have lots of great hiding spots. The Lawgivers promptly get ambushed; Kirk deploys the good old fashioned Neck Chop, while Spock, surprisingly, forgoes the usual nerve pinch in favor of just straight up decking the guy. One suspects Spock is feeling a bit crabby at the moment.

[ID: Kirk and Spock fighting Lawmakers between two arches in their dungeon cell. Kirk is standing over an unconscious Lawmaker, who is laying next to an unconscious McCoy, while Spock is leaning back to punch the Lawmaker he is squaring off against.]

DIRECT ACTION

With phase one of the classic “mug the guards and steal their uniforms” maneuver successfully completed, Kirk moves right on to phase two, stripping the robe off one of the fallen Lawgivers and putting it on over his waistcoat. While he’s doing that, he asks Marplon and Reger where Landru is. The two of them stutter fearfully a bit, but Marplon manages to explain that they never see Landru, only hear him, in a place called the Hall of Audiences--conveniently located in this very building! “You’re gonna take us there,” Kirk says, leaving the poor bastards looking like they’re about to cry. When one of them makes a noise Kirk grabs them by the shoulders and yells at them to snap out of it and start acting like men. The empathy on display here is staggering.

Spock, meanwhile, has gotten in touch with the Enterprise and asks them for a status report. Scotty’s apparently been trying to get in contact with them for quite a while now, not that he has anything particularly new to tell them: their orbit is still decaying, the heat beams are still locked onto the ship, and they’ve now got about six hours left. “You’ve got to cut them off or we’ll cook, one way or another,” he says grimly.

Kirk tells him once again to stand by and then asks after Sulu. “He’s peaceful enough, but he worries me,” Scotty replies. Kirk orders him to put a guard on Sulu, which stuns Scotty, but Kirk doesn’t offer any useful information about the situation. All he says is, “Watch him. That’s an order,” and then he hangs up.

Kirk then turns back to Marplon and Reger and says, for the umpteenth time this episode, asks them to tell him about Landru. Which at this point is starting to sound like a repeating dialogue option.

[ID: 1. A shot of Kirk with a video game-style dialogue selection in the bottom left corner, with the option ‘Ask about Landru’ highlighted and the options ‘Ask about Archons’ ‘Ask about Lawgivers’ and ‘Remain Silent’ listed below it. 2. The same shot of Kirk, now saying, “About Landru.”]

“Well...there was war...convulsions...the world was destroying itself,” Reger says. “Landru was our leader. He saw the truth. He changed the world. He took us back, back to a simpler time. A time of peace and tranquility.” Oh fuck, he was one of those dudes. Of course he was. “Everything will be alright if we go back to the old ways, when things were good and simple and peaceful because everyone was busy dying of polio.”

Asked what happened to Landru, Marplon says that he’s still alive. “He is here now. He sees, he hears.” Then he begins to break down, crying, “We have destroyed ourselves! Please, no more.”

“You said you wanted freedom,” Kirk tells him sternly. “It’s time you learned that freedom is never a gift. It has to be earned.”

Yes, yes, very pithy, but I can’t really say I’m here for listening to Kirk tell people who have lived their whole lives under a horrifying totalitarian regime that they need to Man Up. I mean, regular human totalitarian regimes fuck people up enough, let alone one where everyone is literally being mind-controlled. Can you imagine what life is like for these guys? We know that Landru will try to kill anyone that can’t be controlled, so for Marplon and Reger to still be alive means pretending, every day that they were free of Landru’s control—which, depending on whether they somehow broke free or were born immune, could be their entire lives—pretending to be controlled, pretending to be just as happy and tranquil as everyone else, never able to let slip the slightest trace of fear or anger or grief at everything you saw happening around you, lest any of the constantly watching eyes all around you catch on and you either get executed by the Lawmakers or, if you’re not so lucky, slaughtered by the angry mob that just detected a traitor, traitor in its midst. And they were still trying to resist, still working against Landru despite him being, near as they could tell, all but omnipotent. And Kirk’s gonna stand here and lecture them about courage? Sure, they’re afraid—who could blame them? Sometimes people are afraid. Sometimes people need help.

And, well, Kirk’s not helping. Oh, in a broad sense, sure, he’ll save the day and defeat the bad guy for them (spoilers). But as far as Marplon and Reger specifically are concerned, Kirk has really not bothered to help them. He hasn’t made even a pretense of answering any of their questions. He hasn’t explained anything about who the Enterprise crew are, why they’re there, what their theories are about Landru or what they’re planning to do to defeat him. He hasn’t reassured them or made any effort to quell their fears, even though from the perspective of Reger at least, the landing party arriving has directly led to a lot of those fears coming true—since they got here, they’ve drawn suspicion to him that led to his friend being killed and him being pursued and captured, probably to be executed if Marplon hadn’t happened to be around. Kirk hasn’t shown hardly any sympathy for their situation, not directly—oh, he’s muttered to Spock about what a shitshow this whole society is, but he’s not once given Marplon and Reger themselves so much as a “wow, that sucks.” Mostly his interactions with them have ranged from “a bit condescending” to “barely even trying to pretend to be patient.”

And I know I’ve just spent the last two paragraphs ranting at Kirk, but Kirk isn’t really the focus of the problem here. This kind of writing doesn’t feel right for him. Does Kirk sometimes dismiss smaller, individual problems because he’s more focused on the bigger picture? Does he sometimes push people around him a little harder than they can handle because he’s busy pushing himself too hard at the same time? Sure. Those are understandable, human character flaws that are natural extensions of the character strengths that make him a good captain in the first place. But the attitude of this whole episode feels like it has very little to do with Kirk as a character, flawed or otherwise, and much more to do with an obnoxious combination of the lofty moralizing that Star Trek sometimes dips into mixed with an especially 60s-flavored American outlook on Freedom, subsection: The Costs Of. Yeah, we know all about fighting for freedom! We know all about what it costs! We’re the big strong heroes who are gonna save you from Nazis and Communism cause someone’s gotta do it and that someone is us! TROOPS!

As for the lofty moralizing, well, the behavior of our protagonists in this episode feels rather like the other end of the Metron problem in Arena. Our heroes sweep into a Less Advanced society, decide they’re gonna fix everything for them, and proceed to do so without putting much effort into actually including the members of that society in their plans. Heck, how much time have Kirk and Spock spent in this episode chatting about the flaws and foibles of this culture right in front of Reger, Tamar and Marplon, because it’s not like they’re gonna understand us anyway, right? Of course, I’m not saying that they’re acting as bad as the Metrons—they still haven’t been that obnoxious. And of course there are extenuating circumstances; Kirk’s got crewmen down here and a ship up there in immediate danger, he’s short on time and him being frustrated with not getting the help he wants out of the locals is understandable enough. I mean, at the end of the day, whatever they do to Landru is unlikely to be worse for this culture than having the Enterprise crash into it, which is what will happen if they don’t do anything. But again, the writing of the whole thing doesn’t make it feel like our protagonists are actually being driven by desperation, danger and their own flaws; it feels like an attitude that exists on the same kind of spectrum as we saw with the Metrons: there are cultures that do things Right and cultures that do things Wrong. Some of them are more Right than humans so we should aspire to be like them someday, and some of them are more Wrong so we should help get them on the right track. The extraordinary speed with which Kirk brushes aside the question of whether they’re breaking the Prime Directive speaks to the fact that the episode isn’t interested in exploring that question in the first place. It just wants to get on with dropping cool one-liners and defeating the villain.

Kirk says they’re going to find Landru now, but Reger finally reaches his breaking point and starts yelling that he was wrong, he’ll submit to Landru, and tries to run screaming for the Lawgivers. He doesn’t get very far before Spock nerve-pinches him, while Kirk sternly says, “It’s too late for that.” Hmm, I wonder if this could possibly have been averted at all if we’d done anything to help calm him down instead of telling him to tough it out like a real man? Nah, I’m sure it was unavoidable. Kirk then turns to Marplon and says it’s up to him now to take them to Landru. Marplon looks like he’s regretting every single one of his life choices.

But evidently either persuasion or intimidation was effective, because the next thing we see is Marplon leading Kirk and Spock, both now all robed up, down a very orange corridor. He stops at the door at one end of the hall and tells them that this is the Hall of Audiences (fastpass available). Kirk, naturally, tells him to open it. “But this is Landru!” Marplon pleads. Unimpressed, Kirk tells him to get on with it and open the thing already because seriously, there’s only like ten minutes of episode left, we don’t have time for this.

So Marplon performs the Sacred Gesture of Door-Opening, which is to say he folds his fingers and bows, and the door opens. Kirk and Spock hustle in behind him and immediately discard their entire disguises, which may not have been the best idea, practically speaking, but it’s understandable enough; the Hall of Audiences doesn’t look real well-ventilated.

On a side-note, Kirk was definitely not wearing his coat when he put the robe on, but evidently it respawned in his inventory at some point because he is wearing it when he takes the robe off again.

[ID: A comparison between two images. On the left, Kirk putting a Lawgiver’s robe on over his shirt and waistcoat. On the right, Kirk dropping his robe to the floor in the Hall of Audiences, showing his coat on over his shirt and waistcoat.]

One small problem: the room is completely empty, with no sign of any Landrus anywhere. Kirk starts yelling for him, saying that they are the Archons (sure, why not) and they’ve come to have a chat. A moment later, Landru’s projection appears against the back wall. I’m not sure if they intended for his shirt to blend in with the wall so well that it looks like his head is floating, but that’s what they achieved.

[ID: Another projection of Landru, this one a headshot in which the color of his shirt matches the wall behind him so well it’s barely visible.]

a true figurehead

For a moment everyone just stands around staring at Landru, although Marplon is multitasking and also having a massive panic attack. Then Landru finally speaks up. “Despite my efforts to save you, you have invaded the Body, and are causing great harm,” he says. Kirk says they have no intention of causing harm, but Landru keeps right on going. “Obliteration is necessary,” he says. “The infection is strong. For the good of the Body...you must die. It is...a great sorrow.” Oh, well, if you feel bad about it, that’s okay then. Carry on.

Kirk says they don’t intend to die, either, but as you might have worked out by now, Landru’s not listening. “All who saw you, all who know of your presence here, must be excised,” he says. “The memory of the Body will be cleansed.”

Before Kirk can keep this one-sided conversation going any longer, Spock tells him it’s useless—this is only a projection. “Yes, Mr. Spock,” Kirk muses. “Let’s have a look at the projector.”

The two of them take their phasers out and shoot the wall Landru’s projecting onto, blasting a big hole in the masonry. For once, shooting the hologram actually turns out to be useful, as it reveals the real Landru: a giant computer. Kirk and Spock exchange some pretty smug looks. “Of course. It had to be,” Kirk says. For, as Spock points out, this whole society has all along been run to a computer’s concept of perfection—peace, harmony, all parts working in perfect unison, and absolutely no soul.

“I am Landru,” the computer trills at them. “You have intruded.”

“Pull out its plug, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says, soaring clear over not only any ethical dilemmas here but also over the question of whether “pull out its plug” is even a metaphor that would make sense in the 23rd century. But when they raise their phasers again, there’s a flash of light, and not like the kind there’s supposed to be when you fire a phaser. “Your devices have been neutralized,” the computer informs them. “So it shall be with you. I am Landru.”

Kirk, barely missing a beat over the devastating failure of his cool one-liner, says, “Landru died over six thousand years ago.” The computer insists that it is Landru. “All that he was, I am. His experience, his knowledge.”

“But not his wisdom,” Kirk says. “He may have programmed you, but he could not have given you a soul. You are a machine.”

Landru 2.0 says that this is irrelevant, they will be obliterated, and that the good of the Body is the prime directive. Okay, first of all, that’s copyright infringement. Second of all—what, exactly, is the good? The computer stutters over this, repeating, “I am Landru,” before finally managing to spit out, “The good...is the harmonious continuation...of the Body. The good is peace, tranquility. The good of the Body is the directive.”

“Then I put it to you that you have disobeyed the prime directive,” Kirk says. “You are harmful to the Body.”

“The Body is! It exists. It is healthy.”

“The Body is dying. YOU are destroying it.”

“Do you ask a question?!” Oh, bad move, that’s a sure sign you’re losing the argument. Kirk, sensing weakness, takes a moment to get into a proper computer-dissing stance before asking his next question: “What have you done to do justice to the full potential of every individual in the Body?”

[ID: A gif of Kirk standing in front of a large hole in the stone wall before him, one leg propped up on the bottom of said hole. When Landru 2.0 asks, “Do you ask a question?” Kirk puts one hand on his leg and the other on his hip, and pauses deliberately for a moment before responding.]

Landru 2.0 doesn’t know what to do with that, so Kirk just continues anyway. “Without freedom of choice, there is no creativity! Without creativity, there is no life. The Body dies. The fault...is YOURS.”

Spock chimes in at this point to ask, “Are you aiding the Body or are you destroying it?” Landru 2.0 says it’s not programmed to answer that question. At that point a couple of Lawmakers come running in, but they’re not looking nearly so intimidating anymore, yelling, “Landru, guide us!” in a panic. Kirk turns toward them and pulls out his phaser (presumably out of force of habit, since it doesn’t work anymore) but Spock says they needn’t bother anyway—the Lawmakers have no guidance, probably for the first time ever in their lives, and thus are not much of a threat at the moment. Also, they don’t even have their giant sticks, so what are they gonna do? Headbutt the intruders to death? So Kirk dismissed them and turns back to Landru 2.0, ordering it to answer the question.

“Peace, order, and tranquility are maintained,” Landru 2.0 says, having had a bit of time of think about it. “The Body lives, but I reserve creativity to me.”

“Then the Body dies,” Spock says. “Creativity is necessary for the health of the Body.”

“That...is...impossible!” Landru 2.0 cries desperately.

Marplon, who’s been standing in the back looking real worldview-shattered this whole time, finally speaks up to ask if this is truly Landru, like someone who just met their favorite celebrity and got real let down. “What’s left of him,” Spock says. “After he built and programmed this machine six thousand years ago.”

“You must create the good,” Kirk tells Landru 2.0. “That is the will of Landru, nothing else.”

“But there is evil!”

“Then the evil must be destroyed. That is the prime directive, and YOU are the evil!”

“I think! I live!”

“You are the evil! The evil must be destroyed! Fulfill the prime directive!”

At this point Landru 2.0 starts smoking, as computers are well-known to do when they think too hard. Kirk keeps yelling at it to “Fulfill the prime directive!” and Landru 2.0 eventually just starts yelling, “Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me!” until it explodes in a giant shower of sparks.

[ID: A gif showing Landru 2.0, a large boxy computer sitting behind a hole in a stone wall, sparking wildly and catching fire. The gif cuts briefly to Kirk watching, before cutting back to show Landru 2.0 smoking as the sparks die slowly.]

Yeah IT’s probably not gonna be able to help with that one.

Kirk and Spock step inside to take a look at the remains (probably not a good idea, the air quality in there cannot be good). Evidently satisfied that Landru 2.0 is well and truly busted, Kirk turns to Marplon and says, “Well, you’re on your own now. I hope you’re up to it. You can get rid of those robes, and if I were you I’d start looking for a new job.” Gee, thanks.

He then calls the Enterprise to see how they’re doing. Scotty reports that the heat rays are gone, and Sulu’s all back to normal. To demonstrate this, Sulu shrugs at the camera so exaggeratedly I half expected a laugh track to follow it, before clapping the current helmsman on the shoulder and hustling him out of his chair so Sulu can get back to work. SERIOUSLY? I’m well used to Trek blowing off the effects of things that really ought to be pretty traumatic, but even for TOS this is pretty extreme. I mean, even putting aside the whole matter of recovering so quickly and easily from incredibly powerful mind control stripping away your entire sense of self in subjugation to a mindless collective, how did he get up there so quickly? The Enterprise is a big ship! You can only get from Sickbay to the bridge so fast! Landru’s been out of commission for what, two minutes? Five minutes, generously? Hell, he didn’t even get to take the rest of his shift off? Man, they really keep your nose to the grindstone on this ship.

Kirk, evidently more satisfied with this than I am, tells Scotty to stand by to beam them up, then hangs up and says, “Let’s go see how the others are doing. Marplon can finish up here.” We don’t get to find out how the others are doing, or indeed what the heck “finish up” is supposed to mean in this context, because the scene cuts immediately back to the bridge sometime later, where Kirk is giving a captain’s log.

“The Enterprise is preparing to leave Beta 3 in starsystem C-111. Sociologist Lindstrom is remaining behind with a party of experts who will help restore the planet’s culture to a human form.”

“Marvelous,” Spock comments as Kirk finishes. “The late Landru—a marvelous feat of engineering. A computer capable of directing the lives of millions of human beings.” Pretty impressive indeed—heck, just building a computer that’s still running after six thousand years is quite incredible. Would have been nice to study it. Pity someone blew it up.

Kirk’s not feeling real sentimental about it, though. It was still only a machine, he says. “The original Landru programmed it with all his knowledge, but he couldn’t give it his wisdom, his compassion, his understanding...his soul, Mr. Spock.”

Yes, yes, so you’ve said a bazillion times already, although it’s quite a large assumption given they have no idea what the original Landru was actually like. I mean, we do know this was a guy whose response to a world in crisis was to take everybody back to “a simpler time” aka the imaginary dreamland of bitter conservatives everywhere, and that he was so convinced his method of running that society was the only correct answer that he built a computer to go on micro-managing that society in his name forever. Not to mention, y’know, the mind-controlling powers that he apparently built into it. It’s entirely possible that Landru 2.0 was not an error of programming but in fact was running exactly as intended.

“Predictably metaphysical,” Spock says, apparently forgetting that he made the exact some observation himself earlier. “I prefer the concrete, the graspable, the provable.”

“You would make a splendid computer, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says fondly. Spock, of course, looks immensely pleased and replies, “That is very kind of you, captain.”

Before these two dorks can get any further with their sweet-talk, Lindstrom calls up to say good-bye. Asked how it’s going down there, he says, “Couldn’t be better, captain. Already this morning, we’ve had half a dozen domestic quarrels and two genuine knock-down drag-outs. It may not be paradise, but it’s certainly human.” Huh. I guess that’s better than laying in the fetal position crying, which is what I would be doing in that situation. Still, good to see that this society is acting properly human now. This...non-human society.

Kirk wishes him good luck and leaves him to it. As they prepare to head out, Spock muses about, ““How often mankind has wished for a world as peaceful and secure as the one Landru provided.” “Yes, and we never got it,” Kirk says. “Just lucky, I guess.” Yes, yes, no such thing as a utopia, and all that. Personally I just fantasize about a world where I earn a living wage, but I suppose that would make for a rather more boring episode.

They exchange wry looks, and the episode ends. There’s no sign or word of any of the crewmembers who got Landru’d throughout this scene, so who knows how they’re dealing with all this. I’m assuming McCoy is off somewhere getting super drunk right about now.

The Return of the Archons is an episode that always feels to me as if someone started writing it with no idea of where it was going and just made it up as they went along, but without the bit where you go back at the end and edit everything to match. There are a lot of things that either seem odd in the context of what we learn later, or just get brought up and then never explained. The biggest offender is the Festival, which dominates the first act of the episode so much you figure it has to be important, but then it just gets dropped with no answer as to what purpose it serves, how often it happens, why older people are exempt, etc. (The James Blish novelization takes a crack at it by having Lindstrom postulate that having everyone wildly run amok for one night a year was a form of population control. Which...seems suspect to me, but hey, he tried.) But there are plenty of other questions as well, like, where’s the ‘valley’ that everyone talks about, and who, if anyone, lives there? Why are some people immune to being Landru’d? Why is there a whole special chamber that our heroes get dragged off to one by one to get absorbed, when the Lawmakers are capable of doing it just by tapping people with their rods? Why is Hacom so grumpy and un-tranquil despite apparently being a member of the Body, none of the rest of whom show that amount of individualism? Considering Landru 2.0’s range apparently extends far enough for Sulu to still be controlled while up in orbit, why didn’t it ever try to use Sulu against the Enterprise? Why does Sulu, even after being absorbed, yell at that guy in the transporter room about having the wrong clothes? How do the Lawgivers do that robo-voice thing? I’m used to having to fill in some gaps on my own to make TOS episodes make total sense, but even for TOS this one has an abnormal amount of unanswered questions, which makes it difficult for me to take it seriously as a story, even aside from my problems with the whole “FIGHT FOR YOUR FREEDOM LIKE REAL MEN” thing. On the plus side: waistcoats!

Landru’s circuit-popping demise has brought our Bluescreen Monologues tally up by one. No crew deaths this time, everyone escaped the clutches of Landru more or less intact. Next time we’ll be seeing the origins of a particularly iconic foe in Space Seed.

#star trek #star trek TOS #star trek season one #star trek TOS recaps #1.21 The Return of the Archons #1.21 The Return of the Archons recap

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