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talenlee · 2 months

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How To Be: Eda Clawthorne (in 4e D&D)

In How To Be we’re going to look at a variety of characters from Not D&D and conceptualise how you might go about making a version of that character in the form of D&D that matters on this blog, D&D 4th Edition. Our guidelines are as follows:

This is going to be a brief rundown of ways to make a character that ‘feels’ like the source character

This isn’t meant to be comprehensive or authoritative but as a creative exercise

While not every character can work immediately out of the box, the aim is to make sure they have a character ‘feel’ as soon as possible

The character has to have the ‘feeling’ of the character by at least midway through Heroic

When building characters in 4th Edition it’s worth remembering that there are a lot of different ways to do the same basic thing. This isn’t going to be comprehensive, or even particularly fleshed out, and instead give you some places to start when you want to make something.

Another thing to remember is that 4e characters tend to be more about collected interactions of groups of things – it’s not that you get a build with specific rules about what you have to take, and when, and why, like you’re lockpicking your way through a design in the hopes of getting an overlap eventually. Character building is about packages, not programs, and we’ll talk about some packages and reference them going forwards.

We’ve talked about The Owl House before in this column, and last time it was about the incredibly cool Made Of Love Interest Amity Blight. But that’s not all that The Owl House offers for cool and interesting character inspiration you should totally use as an excuse to get onto the table in your friendly 4th Edition D&D game –

You do have one of those right?

Why are you reading these then?

Spoiler Warning: I’m going to mention things that happen in The Owl House that change the status quo. If you want to avoid that kinda thing, this is your warning!

Into The Owl House

Eda is challenging to pin down because it’s not like she exists in a world where we get a lot of very clear demonstrations of her physical ability to any scale we’d like. Eda complains about being old (in her forties according to the wiki, and like, sure honey), but we don’t see any sign that she struggles to carry modest weights. Her stamina is tied to whatever is funny in most scenes, and she’s deft enough to draw and write fluently with her off-hand.

Personality-wise, I think it’s pretty reasonable to describe Eda as someone clever and varying types of charming. We think she’s great (don’t we?) because she’s cool and funny and capable of deep sweetness, but also she yells at customers and people hate her. On the other other hand she lies a lot and people believe her, all of which suggests that you’re dealing with someone who can have a good or poor charisma, depending on how you want to express it.

(Almost like Gygaxian personality stats are at best a sort of puppet show behind characterisation but the point is what they let you do not how they perfectly map to fiction.)

Except at the same time, when you look at what Eda can do, the answer is ‘witchy stuff.’ As in ‘lots of witchy stuff.’ As in ‘almost anything you can do with magical effects, witchy stuff.’ In a setting with a strictly defineable set of magical schools, Eda skids all around through them and can do almost anything in that space. Note that this is a thing you can represent in-game too! Some characters build to use a lot of the same kinds of magic to maximise a damage type – like when I wrote about being Chandra Nalaar, that’s obviously a character who wants to use fire magic and fire implements. For Eda? She does water and lightning and fire and ice and pretty much everything, which means a build that focuses on a single elemental type isn’t going to capture that Eda feel.

Consider The Scale

What we’re going to need to consider here is the means of managed expectations. As with when I wrote about Harrowhark Nonagesimus, there’s an important difference between how a character works in a story and how that character works in a collaborative play experience. Eda in her story is one of a small number of characters with world-shaping power, while a character in an adventuring party is one of a small group of people grappling with challenges that are always going to have room to scale up around you. The size of the world around Eda is quite small – there’s the Boiling Isles and its mythos. The size of the world around a D&D adventurer is definitionally vast; the game is always capable of setting out more chairs with higher defenses and more hit points.

When you bring a picture of Eda to this kind of story experience, within the context of a controlled game like D&D then, you’re not saying ‘I should be able to fly at level 1 and have access to all these special rules.’ You’re still looking to play a version of the character who fits into the space of the other kinds of characters.

With that in mind, instead of trying to give you a build that can be all of Eda in all of the ways, building on a single central frame that kind of tags all the ways you can be Eda if you want to be. I want to talk about the three distinct eras of Eda (Edras).

Still, there is a unifying detail for Eda: She can do lots of different kinds of magic. To that end, time to grab the spellcasting grab bag player option that is the Ritual Caster feat. Some classes get that for free, and you might be unsurprised to see that’s where my suggestions for an Eda wind up.

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

The First Impression

Take Eda.

(Please!)

But okay, take Eda at the start of the series. She sells things from a stall, in a shifty way, she casts spells very freely, and there’s a way of treating magic as something immediately to hand, easily. Eda is a spellcaster, a mage, and she avoids direct confrontation.

Now there is actually a class for witches already. It’s called the witch. And by the witch I mean the wizard. Because the witch class is a wizard variant. It does suffer from a problem common to wizard variants in that it’s worse than just playing a wizard, and that’s kinda a good problem to have because wizards are really, really good.

As a wizard, Ritual Caster, for free. Ding. As a wizard, you’re going to want to maximise your intelligence, and you can build for Constitution and take the Staff Implement mastery to make her tougher, without necessarily trying to build her for ‘strong’ or ‘armoured’ builds. Heritage wise, Deva gives an intelligence bonus and some nice abilities, and an ‘obviously not a normal person’ vibes. Put some stalks on your staff so it looks like a broom and bam! You’re witchy and wonderful, starting at level 1!

The Harpy

But okay, what if the part of Eda you like is the way she looks when she’s a cool harpy monster? It’s not a permanent state – it’s not even a lasting state – but I think it’s a really cool look for a character. Being able to shapeshift into a flying, monstrous form with killer claws and all – well, that stuff doesn’t tend to synergise very well with the spellcaster kinds of builds, but it is something interesting and cool.

See, one of the things I love about Ritual Caster is that any character who does anything can spend their time travelling the world, with that feat, as a ‘spellcaster’ – they collect magical rituals, they can stop and cast magical spells. To almost all character interactions, they are a wizard.

Then the fighting starts and they might do something completely different.

What I want to do for Harpy Eda is to play with that. A character from a defender class, ideally one that can fight without a weapon so the character can just erupt into a monster form. And of course, a Harpy flies so this complicates things a little.

If you want to fly at level one, there’s the Bozak Draconian. If you want to fight with your claws at level 1, as a defender, then you’re going to look at the Knight, and the Werebear. If you want the wizardy things at level 1, you’re going to take the Ritual Caster Feat. This is a package of abilities that sit together pretty nicely, and gets the character to work as quickly as possible. It’s not what I personally think of as ideal: I’d rather take a slower path and be willing to step up to these abilities.

For example, the knight/werebear combo is a little sketchy – sure, you get a reliable marking melee attack, that’s cool! But if you use Hand Axes, or the Monk multiclass feat, you can use your own hands, instead of relying on the shapeshift and the limited theme. If you take the Warden, you can get a bestial shapeshift with more utility and more interesting options. If you don’t mind waiting to fly, and instead have large wings that are only activated once you have an appropriate magic item, then you’re not locked into an option that’s at its strongest and most interesting at level 1.

The Glyph Mage

Finally, hey, remember when Yda loses her magic and has to learn how to do it all over again? And then she loses her arm so if she’s doing magic it’s with the other hand and like, that’s pretty amazing and cool. But in the case of a mage who’s making things, drawing on things, and specifically enacting magical rituals, you’re looking at a character whose magic is defined not by inborn power expressed wholly, but instead, their relationship to making stuff.

Hi there Artificer, what were you doing lurking most obviously and availably.

Look, the Artificer has a small problem. The problem is that they have the best possible power they’re ever going to get at level one. The power Magic Weapon is one of the best powers of its type, and all it requires you do to make it good is stand next to an ally. Stand next to two allies, and it gets even better. Make a character with a pet like the Fey Beast Tamer, and you can position that too and maximise their attacking, possibly by standing next to you and going WEH at things.

The Junk Drawer

Now you might have noticed, astute one, that in this treatment we’ve covered a controller (Eda the Witch), a defender (Eda the Harpy), and a leader (Eda the Glyph Mage). I mean, there’s the sorcerer as an option there, because it’s hard to get more ‘spellcaster who blasts at things,’ but I don’t find that a very satisfying thing for Eda, given its reliance on pure Charisma. But hey, you may think the most defining thing about Eda isn’t being smart, it’s raw, inborn talent.

Look, the Owl House is a great series. The main thing I appreciate it for though is teaching a new generation that Wendie Malick is really hot, and has pretty much always been, even though one of her defining roles in the 1990s was about how she Was Not, In Fact, Hot.

Which was silly.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#How to Be #Dungeons &amp; Dragons #Games

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

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Another Shot at Life

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

TW: Child abuse, emotional manipulation

Ao3

Hunter accidentally makes his way into the human realm and can't get back home. But he's discovering that might not be such a bad thing.

Ch 2/7: When Mom’s Not Home

Ch 1

“I’m going to tell Belos.”

Hunter woke up with a gasp, patting the area around him. “Red?!” he rolled off of…a couch? Oh—right. When had he fallen asleep? He remembered being up, trying to brainstorm a way to open the portal, up after Camila and Vee had gone to bed—Vee had pointedly locked her door, as if that could keep him out if he actually wanted to capture her.

His palisman chirped cheerfully. Vee was playing with the bird, and Hunter dove for it, snatching Red away. “Don’t touch him!”

She yipped, scrambling back away from him.

Hunter examined the bird in his hands. Red warbled gently at him, and he leaned back against the couch, rubbing his eyes. Sunlight filtered in through cracks in blinds, and Hunter squinted. “What time is it?”

“Ten-ish.”

Hunter bolted upright. “Ten?!”

“Yeah, how do you sleep in that armor?”

“I can’t sleep until ten, I have—” Hunter growled. “Ten. Why didn’t I wake up?!” He glared at his palisman. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His palisman cheerfully tweeted that he didn’t have to wake up at five anymore, and he needed the sleep.

Vee held out a hand for his palisman to fly to, but Hunter put a hand in front of Red before it could go to her. She frowned. “Why would Belos care if you had a palisman, anyway?”

Hunter scooped Red up. “He… doesn’t like wild magic.” He squeezed his palisman close to his chest, and Red chirped softly, as if to reassure him that he was still there. “And… he eats palisman.”

Vee’s eyes widened. “That’s horrible!”

“No it’s not!” Hunter said defensively, “He needs them—it’s not like he eats them because they’re a delicious delicacy.” He scratched Red’s head. “I just… don’t want him to eat this one.”

Vee scooted a little closer, eying him nervously. “I… promise I won’t eat Red. I know basilisks get a bad reputation, but I would never hurt another creature.”

Hunter hated the fact that his hands were trembling so bad, and he shook his head, still cuddling Red to his chest.

Camila came down the stairs, tossing a bundle of cloth down next to Hunter. “Tell me if those fit. They might be a bit big—they used to be Luz’s father’s.”

“I’m keeping my armor on.”

“Aren’t you hot?”

Hunter tugged his cape more firmly around him. “I’m keeping my uniform.”

Camila shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She sat down on the couch. “I know you’re not friends with Luz, but can you tell me anything about her?”

Hunter set Red on his shoulder, curling his knees up to his chest. “Only that apparently she’s the best girlfriend in existence,” he snorted.

Camila gasped. “Luz has a boyfriend?!”

Hunter scooted away from her a bit. “Noooooooo.”

“Luz has a girlfriend?! She didn’t tell me! Oh, that’s so exciting! What’s her name?”

“Amity.”

“Awwww, she’s growing up so fast.”

“She’s… she was nice to me,” he admitted, “Uh…” what else did he know about Luz? “She’s… she’s gotten pretty good at using magic. Even though she’s a human. She’s even going to school. I think maybe she fits in pretty well on the Boiling Isles.”

He could almost immediately sense that he’d said the wrong thing. It was something small—it was always a little detail, a tiny shift that he wasn’t sure how he’d caught—but it was enough to make him scoot further away from the human before her mood made a more obvious change. “I can’t do magic,” he continued as if nothing were wrong, changing the subject, “Born powerless.” He scratched his palisman’s head again. “Red here helps me do magic. So does my other staff.”

Camila nodded absentmindedly. “I’m going to work, now. Thank you, Hunter. Vee, there’s leftovers in the fridge. Teach Hunter how to use the microwave, kay? Be good, both of you.”

The human disappeared out the door, and Vee stood up. “Camila doesn’t want Luz to stay in the boiling isles,” she said softly, “She feels like she failed her. Maybe don’t talk about how much better off Luz is in the isles. It’s… a little upsetting.”

Hunter followed her up the stairs. “Why do you care so much? I mean—why stay here? You can look like anyone. Go anywhere. You don’t have to stay here.”

“I need magic to transform, first of all, and there’s not a lot of it out here, and second of all, I like it here!”

“Not a lot of it?” Hunter echoed, “So there is some out here, though?”

Vee disappeared into her room, closing the door. “Go away.”

“Hey! What did I do to you?”

“Why don’t you ask your emperor,” Vee responded, her voice muffled by the door.

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Okay. Look. You don’t like me. Fine. But the sooner I can find anything that will get me home, the sooner I’ll leave, and you won’t have to see me again.”

The door opened a crack again. “Fine. There’s a guy who collects magic stuff. He curates a museum. If anyone has something that will get you back, it’ll be him.”

“Where do I find him?”

“Trust me, you don’t WANT to find him. He’s dangerous.”

“So am I.”

“I’m serious. If he finds out what you are, he’ll kill you, cut you open—don’t go near him. Wait until nighttime and sneak in, if you have to go at all.”

Hunter pulled up his hood to hide his ears, and Red hid inside, chirping softly. “No offense, but I think I can pass as human a little better than you.”

“No offense, but you stick out like a sore thumb in that outfit. If you’re so determined to get killed, then go ahead. Like I said, he’s the curator at the museum. That’s where he keeps his magical artifacts, too.”

“Great.” Hunter started towards the door.

“Do you know where the museum is?”

“How hard can it be to find?”

Vee chuckled slightly. “Never mind, I don’t have to worry about Jacob killing you. You’ll get hit by a car before you even reach the museum.”

Hunter’s ears burned, and he slammed the door behind him. Right. This would be fine, he just had to get to a high vantage point, and then he could find the museum. Make a mental map of the area. He surveyed his surroundings, then scrambled up onto a trash can, hopping up and using the window frame as a foothold as he grabbed the top of the roof, hauling himself up.

There were buildings as far as he could see—rows and rows of them, neat and orderly.

No wonder Uncle Belos wants to combine the worlds.

Hunter scanned the building, looking for one that looked like it would hold old stuff. Finally, he caught sight of a statue next to a building that didn’t share the uniformity of the other buildings. Bingo. He mapped the streets in his head, plotting turns.

When he got back down off of the roof, Vee was waiting for him. “I’m going with you,” she declared.

“Thought you wanted to stay away from the museum?”

Vee crossed her arms. “I’m not going to go in. But Camila wouldn’t want you to go alone.”

“Go away. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting you. I’m making sure you don’t go around conspiring with Jacob to capture me.”

Hunter started down the road. “For the last time, I’m not even a little bit interested in kidnapping you. You’re not hurting anyone here. Why would I care?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vee said sarcastically, following behind him, “Maybe because Belos chased me all the way here?”

Hunter stopped dead in his tracks. “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? You’re the golden guard, how do you not know about the basilisk experiments?”

That bothered him a lot more than he wanted to say. “Great question. I thought basilisks were extinct?”

Vee walked ahead of him, crossing her arms. “We were. Belos created us.”

“How?!”

“I don’t know, how were you made?”

Hunter rolled his eyes, jogging after her. “Well, you see, Vee, when a mama witch and a papa witch love each other very much—”

“Very funny. Look, I don’t know. Belos didn’t exactly bother shoving his scientific notes into my cage.” She looked back at him. “You really didn’t know?”

Hunter shifted uncomfortably. “I’m head of a whole coven. I don’t keep an eye on every single experiment.” Apparently. But that was Belos’ personal experiment, he didn’t need to know everything—he was head of the emperor’s coven, not the emperor.

“Maybe you should have paid a little more attention to your surroundings, coven head. Belos hurt me, and all of my kind.”

“You think you’re the only one Belos has hurt? You’re not special.” The words popped out of his mouth before he could think, and Vee twisted back to look at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean—he’s the emperor—he has to punish people who break the rules—I’m just saying—”

“Well, I didn’t break any rules, except by existing, I guess.” Vee replied. She stopped. “Here we go. This is where I stop.”

Hunter gazed up at the broken-down building, then at the statue nearby.

His heart seemed to stop in his chest.

That was—

“Vee,” he asked in a strangled whisper, “Why does this town have a statue of Emperor Belos?”

Vee blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” Then her eyes widened. “You’ve seen the emperor without his mask?!”

“Of course I have, I—why is there a statue of him here, Vee?!”

“I don’t know,” she responded in a hushed voice, “Those are town founders, I think.”

Okay. Belos had been here before—he’d known that. He could ask when he got back. Right now, he needed to focus. “Where is the magic stuff?”

“In a room behind the welcome desk. Watch out for Jacob.”

“I can handle one measly human.”

Hunter pushed open the door. No one was at the desk, so he just walked into the back room. Vee was right—there was a lot of stuff in here. He picked up a training wand. Useless, at least to him. Still he tucked it in his pocket. He blinked at the back wall. It was covered in paper, pictures of the owl lady, in her beast form and regular. He traced the red lines with one finger, skipping over an old sketch. He stopped, going back. The sketch was worn and faded, but he could just make out a cardinal.

“Looks kind of like you,” he remarked to his palisman.

Red tweeted in agreement.

“Hey! You can’t be back here!”

Hunter whirled around, whipping out his coven staff. “Stay back!”

The man wrinkled his nose. “Eh, geeze, you really go out like that? Costume needs work, if you’re a little witch wannabe.”

Hunter’s ears burned. “I am not a witch wannabe! Where did you get this stuff?”

The man gave him a fake smile. “Hey, kiddo, it’s just some costume stuff, don’t worry about it, just come on out into the regular museum, okay? If you’re here for those tarot cards, they all got stolen, I’m sorry.”

“It is not just costume stuff.” Hunter jabbed a finger at the pictures of the owl lady. “I’ve met her. I know what she can do. And I know that you collect magical items.”

“You met her? Okay. Wait. I’m Jacob. You met the owl beast?”

“Yeah, she’s a real pain,” Hunter muttered, edging for the door. Nothing here could help him—and he was pretty sure that this curator guy couldn’t, either.

Jacob moved to block the door. “Hey! Hey, hey, hey! Don’t go!”

“This was a waste of my time. Get out of my way.”

Jacob’s gaze zeroed in on the inside of Hunter’s hood. “Is that…”

Hunter backed up, clutching his staff tightly. “What?”

Faster than he could react, Jacob lunged forward, flipping his hood off. Hunter kicked him, then slammed his staff right into the curator’s stomach. “Get back!” he warned.

Jacob gasped for air. “That cardinal—you look just like—” he rummaged around in a desk drawer, dragging out a sketch of a man with a cardinal on his shoulder. A chill ran down Hunter’s spine. That did look like him. Down to the haircut. What was wrong with this town?!

“What’s that, your creepy fanart?”

Jacob’s face turned a blotchy red. “It is not fanart, it is an artistic interpretation of what our town founder’s face would have looked like based on his statue! And except for your ears and scar, you look just like him! You even have the cardinal! Are you descended from him? Or maybe a clone, sent from Mars, and made to take his place?”

Wow. “Yeeahhh. Unlikely.” Hunter ducked around him. “Thanks for showing me your… whatever that was, but I’m going now.”

Jacob grabbed his arm. “You can’t go!”

Hunter kicked him right between the legs, wrenching away and making a break for the door. Vee was right. This guy was just insane. He slammed the door behind him, jumping over the desk and pushing it against the door. The door opened inward, so it wouldn’t hold him, but it would slow him down. Hunter burst out of the museum doors, tearing down to where Vee was sitting at the base of the statue.

“Time to go!”

Vee jumped up, running after him. “What happened?!”

“He’s crazy!”

“I told you!”

The doors to the museum burst open, and Jacob’s eyes widened when he saw Vee. “YOU!” he howled, and he sprinted after the two of them.

Hunter stopped, turning to face him. “I’ll take care of him.”

Vee backpedaled and grabbed his collar, dragging him forward. “You will not! The object is to not draw attention! Which fighting an adult in the street will most definitely do!” She yanked his hood over his ears. “You’re really bad at this.”

Jacob gave up, winded, halfway down the street. Vee didn’t stop running until they’d gotten back to the house, huffing and puffing.

“I could have handled that guy,” Hunter panted, “Easy.”

“You’re—crazy. Did you find anything that would help you get home?”

“No,” Hunter sulked, “Just a lot of useless junk.”

“Told you. What did you say that made him go after you?”

Hunter shuddered. “He went on and on about how I looked like one of those statue guys.”

“Oh, yeah. He thinks that the town founders got kidnapped and taken to the demon realm by a witch.”

Hunter rubbed his arms. “Not sure he’s wrong about that part.” That statue had looked way too much like Uncle Belos to be a coincidence. “I… guess you’re going to tell Camila about what I did?”

Vee shrugged. “I don’t know. It might come up. We like to talk about our days at dinner. Why?”

Hunter shifted from foot to foot. “No reason.”

Vee gave him an uncomfortably understanding look. “She won’t get mad. She didn’t tell you not to go there. If anything, she’ll be worried.”

“I… I put you in danger, though.”

“I went on my own. You didn’t make me. Actually, I’m pretty sure you told me not to come.”

“I just… Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Vee held open the door for him. “Camila isn’t going to hurt you.”

“I never said she would!”

“No, but you were thinking it. I get it. I used to get worried about making her mad, at first. It’s hard to imagine the adults not hurting you. I won’t tell her if you don’t want me to. But Camila’s not like that.”

Hunter’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m not like you. You were an experiment, you were locked up. I’m the head of the emperor’s coven. I wasn’t—I was happy.”

Vee shook her head. “If you say so.”

“I was!” Hunter took a deep breath. “Look, I… I’m sorry. That you were hurt.”

“By Emperor Belos. Your boss.” Vee pressed.

Hunter rubbed his arms. “Y-yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

“He’s… not a good person, Hunter. You know that, right? You ran from him for a reason.”

“I was just—I was scared of getting punished. But I—I shouldn’t have attacked Kikimora. I would have deserved—”

“Why are you defending him?!”

“I’m not you, Vee! Maybe to you he was a horrible tyrant, but to me, he’s the only family I’ve got! He cares about me, Vee. Sometimes he can be harsh, but it’s just because he wants me to be my best self!”

Vee shook her head. “I can’t believe it. You actually think that!”

“Of course I do! Because it’s the truth!”

Vee jabbed a finger at him. “There’s more than one way to lock someone in a cage, Hunter. And I’m starting to think that I got the better bargain.”

Ch 3

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #my writing #toh hunter #camila noceda #vee noceda

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

The lack of action from our "heroes" is eerily similar to a Nostalgia Critic sketch I saw when I still watched his show. The idea was that to parallel what was reviewed in the episode, Fantastic Four, where the heroes barely did anything for most of it, Doug and his friends got superpowers and only choose to sit on the couch and watch Netflix while the world is under attack. The only difference is that was meant to lampoon the movie, and wasn't meant to be taken seriously.

Massive replay incoming! I haven’t seen the Fantastic Four, but I do still have a lot of thoughts on this choice and how badly it came across...

Though we can absolutely debate the merits/detriments of having 3/4ths of your title characters keeping to the sidelines while the Big Bad is here, I 100% believe that this could have been improved immensely if RWBY a) were more consistently written and b) allowed its characters to tackle conflicts central to what’s currently going on, not conflicts made up just for the sake of having a conflict (Yang randomly fights with Ruby, Ren has criticisms and then never brings them up again, etc.)

So what do I mean by this. I mean that the fandom isn’t necessarily wrong to argue things like, “RWB needs to be there to help Nora and Penny” or “They need time to regain their aura.” The problem is that the show never established these needs as necessary. The viewers have simply assumed those needs are there and judge the group’s actions accordingly. But for those of us asking questions like, “But how does Ruby standing by the window benefit Nora?” or “How long does it really take them to regain their strength?” we’re never given answers and thus are left with the belief that these needs do not exist and the group’s choices are not justified. It becomes, as you say, akin to a parody.

So how do we fix this? By having the show acknowledge those questions and provide believable answers. A few minor tweaks might include:

Having someone ask how long they’re just going to sit there. Let another character argue that they need to rest up before they do anything else. They can’t help others if they’re collapsing themselves. Then, keep these limitations consistent across the volume. In the last episode, Ren was suddenly using his semblance again, despite his aura breaking with very little time having passed between the two moments. So if he only needs a tiny chunk of time in horrific conditions to recover, why does team RWB supposedly need the whole day and night in complete safety, with heat, food, etc.? If “We have to recover” is meant to be a justification, show us elsewhere what lacking that results in: Ren, Jaune, and Oscar do not get their aura/energy back, they’re making mistakes, at the end of their rope, and generally not functioning because look, their conditions are so much worse. This is why a mansion break is necessary.

Have the group actively be trying to solve their problems. We didn’t start with “Someone needs to watch over Nora” we started with “Nora is incredibly injured and needs help”... but no one ever tried to get her help. Have them cycle through and reject some possibilities. Then have Weiss think of calling Klein and approach Whitley to see if he knows how to contact him. There, your protagonists are active and Weiss is helping to repair this relationship. As it stands, the group appears content to continue sitting around while Nora suffers, despite knowing she needs medical attention. We know, emotionally, they’re not actually content, but that’s what the actions imply. Where’s the scene where Ruby frantically asks May if the Happy Huntresses have any doctors and is it possible to bring one here? Where’s Blake hesitantly asking if it’s worth going back to Ironwood to get her help? The fandom assumes that sitting in the mansion = devotion to helping Nora, but we don’t actually see them trying to help Nora. Not in any meaningful way beyond putting cold towels on her head. What are they willing to risk and sacrifice for their teammate? Because sitting drinking tea while they hope things will magically fix themselves doesn’t convey much. We’re not talking here about how much the fandom assumes the group will do for Nora, we’re talking about what their actual actions read like.

Establish then why it takes three powerful fighters to watch over one unconscious woman already being cared for in a comparatively safe environment. The fandom acts as if Nora is a target when she’s not. No one is explicitly after her. If anything, given the initial assumption that the Hound was after Ruby as a SEW, she puts Nora in more danger by hanging around. Have the group debate the merits of being here to defend her if, by chance, something happens vs. putting their skills to use during a battle where very few huntsmen remain.

This debate should include the fact that half their team is missing. Not gone, missing. Last RWB saw they were going down to Mantle to help with general needs and low-level grimm activity. Now they’ve been MIA for hours. Blake, as the assumed love interest, and Ruby, as the sister, should be particularly desperate to find out what’s happened to Yang. If the group has to stay in the mansion for plot reasons, have Weiss talk them out of running into Mantle without a plan. What if what happened to the others happens to you too? The point is, May shouldn’t be the one concerned about the rest of the team and May shouldn’t be the one out looking for information.

Let the group actually decide something for once. Show us that they were going to help Mantle or Atlas and then, oh no, Penny interrupted those plans. As it is though, that scene frames it like Ruby will happily continue hanging out in the mansion until something else — something more dangerous than May’s demand to choose — forces her to take action. Indeed, that’s precisely what happened with the Hound.

Have Weiss or Blake begin to question why Ruby isn’t doing anything. Weiss has a whole conversation with May about how she wants to protect her home now. Blake is all about faunus rights and protection, with a whole faunus population freezing to death down below. Have one of them threaten to walk out, or actually do it with a, “You don’t need me to watch Nora sleep. I’m going to go do what I can.” These characters are supposed to be people with differing motivations and goals, yet whenever that should matter they’re suddenly happy to follow Ruby, even if by all logic there should be disagreement.

Have Nora wake up and tell them to do something other than waiting by her bedside. Let her be the one to get them back on their feet, showing them that she’s fine — she will be fine — and imploring them to help even though she can’t right now.

Explain to the audience what the group plans to do with all these civilians once they’re in the ships. Are they coming to the mansion? Try to fly them out of the kingdom? This is the one thing they’ve done since Amity and we’re given no indication what the actual plan is, let alone any debate about its merits.

Have Ruby be the one to see Penny in her controlled state, not Whitley, and give us some insight into what that means for her. I’ve likewise seen a lot about how Ruby doesn’t just need to look after a sick Penny, she needs to be there to protect Penny and others from her... but does Ruby even know what’s going on? Penny clash-lands without an explanation, she’s busy with the Hound, Whitley and Willow see her heading to the vault, the Hound knocks Penny out, Ruby is distracted by reunions and Ironwood’s threat. The imagined scene where Ruby learns what’s happening to her friend and weighs the dangers of leaving a controlled Penny alone in the mansion are just that: imagined.

That’s really just a small sampling of options here. As said, there are plenty of ways to tweak this plot to make the heroes seem far less passive than they come across here. The fandom often claims that those who criticize this plot-line don’t understand “show don’t tell.” Meaning, RWBY supposedly showed us something rather than telling us in a hand-holding way and we just didn’t understand it. It becomes more of an insult than an argument, the claim that RWBY wrote something nuanced, it’s not their fault you couldn’t grasp it. But it’s not that we missed the answers here, they simply don’t exist, and the fandom has made up their own answers instead, mapping it onto the canon and assuming that’s what RT intended all along. One individual’s ability to come up with a answer does not mean the story actually gave one, it just means we’re all writing RWBY fanfic in our heads while we watch the show.

And this is by no means an isolated incident. It happens every episode. Our latest bout of headcanons has come about due to the questions, “Why does kinetic energy only hurt grimm?” and “If it only hurts grimm, why was Hazel supposedly destroyed?” Each viewer is providing a different answer — “Kinetic energy is different in this world,” “It has to do with the amount of dust in Hazel’s body,” “The blast went in one direction, towards Hazel, and decimated everything in its path, but the aftershocks only hurt grimm” — all of these complicated, unsubstantiated, and ultimately noncanonical explanations... rather than just saying, “Yeah, it doesn’t make sense based on what the show has told us.” The mansion issue is just a particularly egregious example because we recognize that there’s a major problem with taking your main characters out of the action like that. Yet rather than acknowledging the problems with the writing, many fans are determined to fill in those answers themselves until it makes sense. And it does make sense! So many of these explanations would work, but right now they do not exist within RWBY. If we’re supposed to have an answer like, “The group knows they need to go help, but they’re just too traumatized and exhausted to do it. They know it’s wrong, but they can’t move” then tell us that. Show us that. Make it clear for the audience what the takeaway is. Because when you leave it entirely up to viewer interpret, you might indeed get a lot of “They’re just traumatized and need a break” explanations... but you’ll also get a lot of, “Wow, they’re a really cowardly and callous group, huh?” explanations too. One half of the fandom shouldn’t be mad at the other half for interpreting a completely subjective plot-line differently from them, everyone should be mad that our writers didn’t bother to include the canonical explanations from the get-go.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #Anonymous

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ladylynse · 4 years

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Crossover musing! What if the Ghost Zone is next door to the Demon Realm? Ghosts are kind of like demons, in their own class/league/whatever, so it could work. A fragile peace allows them to do business like trade goods and borrow monsters or powers. Team Phantom finds a ghost portal that leads them to the Demon Realm during shenanigans and crosses paths with Luz's shenanigans.

I mean, with all the doors in the Ghost Zone, you could take that (’next door’) quite literally. Team Phantom could go through the door as easily as a portal then. Probably while being chased, in a part of the Ghost Zone with which they’re not awfully familiar. And if there are terms thrown around like ‘Demon Realm’ or ‘Boiling Isles’, well, that’s par for the course for the Ghost Zone, isn’t it? Hang a left at the Carnivorous Cavern, and if you don’t get eaten, you might find the Demon Door.

...Sam probably pushed them to explore, and past experience was not enough for Danny or Tucker to dissuade her from the idea. And when they saw there was some sort of coded lock on the door, they figured that would be the end of it. They didn’t think Sam would actually solve it, let alone quickly enough that they could get through before that shadow thing got them. (Sam and Tucker aren’t entirely convinced it’s not a ghost, whatever Danny says about his ghost sense not going off, because this is the Ghost Zone; what else could it be?)

But curses are most definitely a thing. We know that from Dora and Aragon. And, when they do run into the Owl House crew? Those folks assume that Danny is cursed. I mean, he’s magic, obviously, he does magic, as far as they’re concerned, but also cursed, because magic doesn’t do that to you unless it’s a curse. Danny attempts to protest this but fails. It’s hard to explain that he died, except not, or maybe not entirely, or something. He’s not even sure himself.

Sam and Willow bond over plant magic. Completely by accident (read: enthusing over new plants), Sam discovers that she has a talent for plant magic in this realm, despite being human. Luz doesn’t think that is fair--she doesn’t even have to draw anything!--but when the story of Undergrowth comes out, Luz isn’t the only one who’s mildly horrified. Possession isn’t something to be treated lightly here, and if that possession permanently changed Sam, well....

Cue Tucker making some remark that he’s glad that never happened to him, until the others remind him about the King Tuck incident, but that was a magical artifact, and Gus explains the difference. Not being permanently changed doesn’t mean he’s not more susceptible to it now, though, and they all have to be careful. None of the Amity Park folks are entirely happy about the idea that their past experiences might come back to haunt them here if they cross the wrong opportunist who recognizes the signs in them that make them easier to manipulate.

Luz and the others are too curious about the newcomers, and they about the others (mostly Luz, wondering how another human wound up here, because they’ve seen magic before, too; Desiree is proof enough that that existed in their world. Or maybe not their world, they now realize, but this world, unless magic was once lost from their world, or--), for anyone to realize the door/portal has vanished entirely. Not unexpected in the Haunted Halls, Amity points out. That’s what this place does. Doors that open into walls, staircases that lead nowhere, things like that (à la the Winchester mansion). It’s not supposed to make sense. Case in point, these three tumbled out of window shutters that opened into a wall.

Tucker’s the first one to pull out some technology--he’s updated his PDA with anything remotely useful, including tech he adapted from the Fentons that essentially acts as both a Fenton Finder and Real World Item radar--and he’s delighted to realize that it still works. He has service, he has internet, he...does not have answers. They’re not in a tech dead zone, but they’re not anywhere that’s mapped. It’s a collection of bright dots overlaid on a grid with its usual set markers of distance, but there’s nothing of the map to help him figure anything out, even though he installed that feature with his last update. (Luz, peeking over his shoulder, points to a cluster of Real World Items and says that’s Eda’s stand, and that’s the Owl House, and, ooh, all those places must be people who’ve bought something from Eda! She’s delighted. Amity tries to distract them once she realizes her house is marked on that screen, too.)

And then something happens, and the Owl House folks are abruptly reminded of why they came here in the first place. (”We need the Guardian’s treasure,” Gus confides.) It’s not an official quest, per se. More a thing that’s supposed to prevent a different thing from becoming worse, except it went sideways. The more that’s explained in bits and pieces, the more alarming it sounds, despite frequent reassurances of, “Don’t worry, that happens a lot! It’s better than it sounds.”

Luckily, Team Phantom is used to terrible odds.

And if they can help with this, and then help retrieve the door that’ll open up into their world so they can go home? Even better. Not that this place isn’t cool. It is. It just, uh, isn’t a place they want to visit and be stuck in. Visit and go back and forth when they want? Sure. Visit and become trapped? Not so much. Especially when their disappearance is entirely unexplained--they’ve no excuse of summer camp--and Jazz can only cover for the three of them for so long because everyone will get suspicious, even in Amity Park.

(more musings | the rest of the SQ)

#danny phantom #the owl house #toh #crossover #ladylynse #fic ideas #musings #asks #Anonymous

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thegoodgayshit · 3 years

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Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Sixteen: A Talking Water Fountain Offers Us Some Guidance

Luz filled in her friends on what she’d seen as quick as she could, and by the time she’d finished, Willow and Gus were pale, and Amity looked like she was going to be sick.

“That’s how those heroes have come back from the dead,” she concluded, and Luz nodded meekly, feeling smaller than she’d ever had before.

Luz was a confident person, but even she had no idea how they could stop literal undead Greek heroes from the past. They were just four teenagers. Luz couldn’t even drive yet. How were they supposed to destroy a literal portal to the afterlife? Her Mami had taken her to Catholic Church her entire life, she was still trying to wrap her head around god not being real, never mind the whole Greek Underworld existing as a whole.

“There’s no use worrying about it right now,” Willow tried, sensing everyone’s tension. “We should take a break and prepare for our next move, one step at a time.”

Luz nodded, eager to change the subject. “I’m definitely ok with not talking about this right now. My head hurts just thinking about it.”

“Then I’m going to shower,” Amity said getting to her feet. Luz nodded, shoveling a few grapes into her mouth. She swallowed, then called out after Amity as she opened one of the doors (that definitely hadn’t been there when they walked in).

“The three of us can gather up supplies for the rest of the quest while you do.”

Amity shot her a half-smile before she disappeared behind the door. Gus got up and took his dish to the sink, dropping them in and heading over to the desk where he began skimming through papers. Willow picked up a cracker and hummed under her breath, and Luz looked up at the sound. She was giving Luz a look that was almost too nonchalant to seem normal.

“You and Amity seem to be getting along a lot better now than you did at camp.”

Luz frowned immediately. Her stomach swirled with guilt. “I hope that’s alright, I know things in the past weren’t great between you two-”

“No, no!” Willow said quickly, holding up her hands. “That’s not what I meant. I meant what I said back in Kansas. We’re working on our stuff, that shouldn’t have anything to do with you two and your friendship. I was just noticing that you two seem close.”

“I mean… I guess we are, yeah.” Luz didn’t even realize she had reached up behind her head and was rubbing it nervously. Were her cheeks getting red? Why was she blushing? “I mean, we haven’t really been rivals or anything since the night of the skeleton attack, and we did save her so she’s kind of forced to be nicer to us. We had a talk in the tent yesterday and that kind of broke the ice between us…”

“You talked?” Willow said, now curious. “About what?”

Luz was at first not sure if Amity would like her sharing what Luz had told her, but she figured it would do no harm, if anything it would help Willow and Amity get along a little better. She told Willow about how they’d shared what ambrosia and nectar tasted like for them, but when she got to the part about Amity’s parents she froze, certain now she shouldn’t share that. Thankfully, Willow seemed to pick this up.

“I came in around that time, you don’t have to continue.”

“Well, then when you guys went to send a message to camp, we talked about the prophecy…”

She told Willow that story too, and when she finished, the Demeter camper looked stunned.

“What?” Luz asked, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing! It’s just… Amity was never the kind of person to openly share her feelings like that,” Willow said, a small smile beginning to pull at her lips. “She must really trust you.”

Luz was sure she was bright red now. “I mean, I hope she’d trust me! We are kind of stuck in this mess together…”

“Luz, I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing,” Willow insisted, leaning forward to rest her hand over Luz’s. The demigod hadn’t even realized she was beginning to panic a little, not really understand what Willow was getting at. Willow gave her a reassuring smile.

“I just mean you should be happy that Amity trusts you. I’ve known her for five years, and I think right now she must be feeling really alone. I’m glad she has someone like you to confide in. Don’t you feel the same way?”

Luz wasn’t really sure what to think, not that that was unusual for her. The truth was Amity really confused her. When Luz was around her, she had all these intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, like the time Antheia had touched her shoulder and filled her to the brim with emotions. They weren’t bad, they were just overwhelming. She was certain Amity was feeling something similar because she had been so weird around Luz as of late. She kept getting all anxious and red, and Luz was terrified she was doing something wrong.

Maybe she should talk to her about it.

A pop from the corner of the room made Luz jump, nearly shooting up from the table as she was snapped out of her thoughts. In the other corner of the room, a water fountain had appeared out of nowhere. It was creating a misty rainbow, and from the other end of the water, a soft and soothing voice called out to Luz.

“You are receiving an incoming Iris Message,” it said, “sender: Eda Clawthorne, Camp Half-Blood.”

Willow shot up from the table so quickly, Luz launched backward in her chair and fell, landing with an uncomfortable thump. “Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please show this message.”

The fountain shimmered for a moment, and when Luz looked up from her spot on the floor her mouth dropped. There was Eda, all the way from camp, blinking her gold eyes at them. She looked just as she always did, in a red dress and boots, Owlbert perched on her shoulder, his eyes also blinking comically through the fountain. At her side, she also saw King who blinked his yellow eyes at the fountain, looking back at Eda with a narrowed frown.

“Is this thing on?”

“Yes, King.” She said shortly. “That’s why we can see the kids.”

“Eda!” Luz shot up from the ground and ran towards the fountain, arms outstretched. Eda’s eyes widened, but not in delight. In warning.

“Kid, don’t!”

“Luz, no!”

Gus managed to jump at her, throwing her back into the floor. Luz groaned in agony as she landed on her back for the second time.

“Ow! Gus, what the heck!”

“Sorry!” He said apologetically from on top of her. “But that’s an Iris Message, and it’s powered by the rainbow coming with the fountain. If you touch it with your hands it severs the connection.”

Luz’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she slowly got to her feet. “Right, sorry.”

“You’re looking good, kid,” Eda said, and luz looked up at her mentor with a grin. She hadn’t seen Eda in days, and she hadn’t realized how badly she’d been missing her until she saw her reflection. “Travel suits you.”

“Thanks,” Luz said bouncing on her toes to try and work off some of her excitement.

“Sorry to just drop in on you kids, but I got work from Cabin Six that you had managed to find your way to an abandoned workshop in Denver, so I wanted to check-in and make sure you guys were alright.”

Gus, upon hearing this, brightened. “So the map works then?”

Eda chuckled. “Sure does.”

“Remember I told you guys Cabin Six knew vaguely about the locations of the workshops?” Gus said to them, and Willow and Luz nodded. “Well, it’s because we have a map of them in our cabin. Supposedly when a demigod “checks in” it’ll show their names on the map."

“All that stuff in the workshop that appears comes from somewhere,” Eda said with a smile. “Mainly camp, though I’m sure the wisdom goddess threw in a couple of those nice accessories for you. I’ve never seen that desk before.” Eda blinked in surprise, scanning the room. “or that fridge, or that stove. Or that wardrobe… Holy Zeus, she must really like you kids.”

She shook her head, something Luz knew meant that Eda was trying to stay focused.

“Anyways, I was told by Willow and Gus the other day that you’d found Amity. Where is she?”

“Taking a shower,” Luz supplied, and Eda nodded.

“I don’t blame her. But I’m glad she’s safe. The Blight Twins have been bugging me to ask about her so I’ll let them know she’s ok. But enough about that. I was doing a little research with Lily into your “resurrected heroes” issue. You should know that when heroes do escape the Underworld, their fatal flaw remains intact. You should use that against them in combat. Achilles has his heel of course, and you already severed the ties with Orpheus’ lyre. But Theseus’ flaw is not so easily breached.”

“What is it like a weak left arm or something?” Luz asked, and Eda chuckled.

“No, his isn’t physical. It’s his recklessness. He chose to confront you on the bus, without making sure Orpheus knew what his plan was. He likely chose rebirth without thinking of the consequences. Find out how to use that against him. I don’t know who this man in the mountain is, but if you want to beat him you have to beat his cronies first.”

Luz swallowed nervously, Eda narrowed her eyes.

“What, kid? Did something happen to you?”

Luz shook her head, before telling Eda about the dream, Belos, and the portal. Sometime during the story, Amity had come out of the shower. She was dressed in the fresh clothes she’d picked from the wardrobe, had her sword strapped to her belt, and her mint hair was still wet, hanging down near her shoulders. She waved hello to Eda, not wanting to interrupt Luz, and she grinned at Amity and whispered something to King, who took off and out of sight.

Luz tried not to get distracted from her story when Amity stood next to her. It was hard. Amity hadn’t looked so at peace in a long time, and she now smelled like fresh lavender and mint. Luz suddenly realized how desperately she needed a shower, but when Gus saw Amity he had squealed in delight and ran into the bathroom for his turn.

It took longer to tell the tale than she would have liked, but she did eventually finish. When she was done, Eda hummed, putting her finger to her lips.

“Belos. I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

Willow leaned forward anxiously. “You know him?”

Eda shrugged. “I was just a teenager when he tried to seize Olympus when he was alive. He rallied a team of misunderstood demigod’s and tried to take Olympus by force. This was before gods had to claim their children, and before we had the minor gods cabins at camp. He was an unclaimed Hermes camper who wanted recognition, and freedom from the consequences that come with being a half-blood. He was struck down by my dad’s thunderbolts personally.”

Luz, Willow, and Gus winced. What a way to go.

“If he’s alive again, then he’s a real threat,” Eda said seriously. “I don’t know much about him, but I do know his godly parent. Hecate, the goddess of magic and necromancy.”

Next to her, Amity flinched like she’d been slapped.

“Well, now we know how he can raise people from the dead,” Willow mumbled under her breath.

“Magic, that would explain that mist that was surrounding me in my dream,” Luz said, and Amity swallowed hard next to her.

“And the snow when I was trying to get to him with Skara and Boscha.”

“It won’t be easy to beat him,” Eda said seriously. “But it’s not impossible. You have help if you need it. Luz, you still have that whistle?”

Luz nodded, clutching the string around her neck. Eda grinned.

“When you need it, it’ll work. Also, your siblings from the Hermes cabin have a message for you. Something about remembering your Hermes secrets?”

Luz felt a jolt run through her. The bag of tricks that Viney and Jerbo had given her! Eda chuckled at the look on her face.

“I’m not even going to ask. The point is, if you kids ever need a hand, just know that your family has your back.”

Luz felt herself start to get a little choked up. She really missed Eda. On Eda’s line, Luz heard a thundering of footsteps, and King had reappeared with Edric and Emira on the other end.

“Mittens!” They both shrieked when they saw her. They were both dressed in orange camp shirts, and it looked like they must have come from training because they were covered in sweat. Amity couldn’t help but smile when she saw her siblings, and that made Luz split into a grin of her own.

“And that’s my cue,” Eda said, chuckling. She reached into her pocket and handed the twins a couple of golden drachmae. “I have to head out. I’ll look into this mountain man for you kids and try and get ahold of you if I find anything.”

“Thanks, Eda!” Luz said, unable to fully express how happy she was to have seen her again. Next to her, Willow had snuck off for her turn in the shower as Gus came back into the office. Luz rolled her eyes. It was supposed to be her turn, but she couldn’t be mad at Willow.

“No problem, kid,” Eda said, and she turned tail and walked away with King at her heels. The Blight twins immediately began to bombard them with questions.

“Are you alright?” Emira asked with a frown, peering over to examine Amity as best she could.

“You’re not hurt right?” Edric added, leaning in as well.

“No, I’m fine now,” Amity said with a roll of her eyes. “Luz and her friends rescued me and now I’m just healing up. But I’m almost back to 100%.”

“You have no idea how worried we were,” Emira said with a frown. Worry was such a weird look to see on the Blight twin’s face, Luz didn’t really know how to process it. She’d only ever seen them with smirks that screamed trouble, or a sly look that shared a similar sentiment. She realized she was starting, and Edric looked over at her, his face changing to glee.

“So I take it the chariot ride went alright then?” He said, and suddenly Luz was scowling.

“Yeah, thanks for that. We had to kill the white eagle in Cincinnati to pay your mom back.”

“A what?” Emira asked, confused. Amity rolled her eyes.

“She means the Caucasian Eagle,”

Edric howled with laughter, and Luz flushed, embarrassed. “It’s not funny! It could have killed us.”

“But it didn’t,” Emira singsonged, shooting Luz a wink. “You got mittens back and now you’re together and everything is all good.”

Luz felt her face start to heat up at what Emira said. It wasn’t like that, she didn’t get Amity back, she had just helped her out. And yes they were together but they weren’t like together. And Luz definitely wouldn’t call everything “all good”…

Next to her, Amity had flushed deep red, and the twins shared an absolutely ecstatic look that was probably the scariest thing Luz had ever seen.

“Emira, I get the feeling that everything is more than “all good” for mittens here…”

“Me too, Edric. In fact, I think this might be mitten’s preferred situation-”

“Shut up!” Amity spat, her face twisting into a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Luz now felt uncomfortable, like she was intruding on a private conversation. Thankfully, Willow had now exited the bathroom, and Luz had an out.

“Nice talking to you guys and all,” Luz started, already walking backward. “But it’s my turn for a shower. I’ll see you guys back at camp when we’re done with this whole quest and everything.”

“Bye, Luz!” Edric grinned, waving to her.

“See you later, cutie,” Emira said with a knowing wink, and Luz felt her face heat up to dangerous levels. She couldn’t really place how, but she was starting to finally process that the children of Aphrodite were a lot scarier than they seemed at first glance.

Luz entered the bathroom and her mouth dropped. It was entirely white, with gold accents, and there was a massive shower right at the end of it. Next to Luz there was a spot she could put her clothes to have them washed and dried while she showered (Luz didn’t understand how that worked, but considering it was stamped with the Camp Half-Blood Pegasus logo she imagined it was some magic demigod stuff) and there was a double vanity on the other side with a basket on top stuffed with toiletries. Her Mami would have let them live in this bathroom if they could have.

The shower wasn’t wet, despite her friends having used it beforehand, which Luz didn’t understand but it just made the whole experience a thousand times better. By the time she stepped out, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt cleaner in her entire life. She used the deodorant in the vanity, (it was Luz’s favorite scent, so she was starting to realize the bathroom had reset after each use and accustomed based on what demigod used it) the body moisturizer, and the toner and moisturizer that was clearly set aside for her face. She brushed her teeth and combed out her wet hair, which was already drying thanks to it being so short, and even used the body spray. It was musky and smelled a bit like the cedar trees that grew in Amherst near her Abuela's house.

She put back on her, now clean, clothes and shoes, and packed the toiletries in her backpack to use later. She made sure Aletheia was secure on her finger and she exited the bathroom, feeling better than she had in weeks.

She was greeted by an unusually quiet workshop. Willow and Gus were nowhere to be seen, and Amity was sitting in a comfortable looking leather armchair next to the bookcase, flipping the pages of a novel.

“Amity?”

The demigod looked up, her gold eyes focusing on Luz. Her cheeks pinked, and she waved awkwardly.

“Hey, how was your shower?”

“Fantastic!” Luz grinned, heading towards her. “Where are Willow and Gus?”

“My siblings said Eda and Lilith sent us some money to the post office near here. They went to go pick it up.”

“That’s good,” Luz said with a smile. “It’ll be a lot easier planning our next move when we don’t have to worry too much about cash.” As she got close enough to see what Amity was reading, her eyes widened.

“Are you reading “The Good Witch Azura”?”

Amity’s cheeks reddened. “Uh, yeah?”

“That’s my favorite series ever!” Luz squealed in excitement, leaning down to Amity to see what she was reading. She was so close she could smell the mint again.“Oh, you’re at the Bog of Immediate Regret! That’s such a cool chapter.”

When Luz looked up, Amity’s face was so red Luz was worried she was going to pass out. She had leaned as far away as she could from Luz and held up her hands in surprise. Luz recoiled, putting her hands on the arm of the chair apologetically.

“Sorry, I just really love their backstory.”

“It’s alright!” Amity squeaked, and Luz rubbed her neck in embarrassment. She always had a way of making kids her age feel awkward, and one of those ways was by constantly rambling about her favorite books or anime. She didn’t want to scare Amity off. Something about her demeanor must have changed because Amity suddenly frowned.

��Luz, really, it’s ok.” She tried for a smile. “I love their backstory too. It’s my favorite series, I’ve been reading them since they came out.”

Luz leaned forward again, her hesitation forgotten. “No way! What do you think of the new one?”

Amity frowned. “New one? I’ve only read up to the fourth book.”

Luz gasped dramatically, holding her hand over her heart. “What? The new one dropped this summer and it’s so good! I have it at home. I wish it was here.”

Just like that, and end table appeared next to the leather chair Amity was sitting in, with the newest copy of “The Good Witch Azura”, and Luz whooped in excitement, picking it up and flipping the page. She looked inside the cover and awed. It was her copy from her bookshelf at home. Her name was scribbled in scraggily font on the inside cover.

“Here,” Luz said, handing it to Amity. “You can borrow my copy and tell me what you think.”

“Are you sure?” Amity took the book like it was made of glass.

“Of course!” Luz insisted, pushing it into her hands. “You have to let me know what you think. I’ve never had any friends to talk about Azura with before. We should start a little book club together!”

Amity took the book and stared at it for a few moments, before looking up at Luz with a smile. Her eyes were glowing with gratitude, and the look made Luz’s heart practically leap out of her chest. She loved seeing Amity look so happy.

“Ok, thank you.”

Luz was going to ask Amity to start reading and see what she thought of the first chapter, but suddenly the door was open to the workshop, and Willow and Gus were walking back in, with a very nervous look on their faces. Luz immediately frowned, stepping forward.

“What’s going on?” She caught sight of their panic and her own eyes narrowed. “Who hurt my babies?”

“It’s not us we’re worried about,” Willow said quickly, her eyes flickering back between Luz and Amity.

“Amity, your mother is sitting in the café across the street.”

Amity immediately froze up, her eyes widened in panic. “My… mother? Which one?”

Gus’ eyes were wide like he’d just seen a ghost. Or a monster. Or maybe something much, much, worse.

“Your godly one. She called us over on the way back from the post office. She wants to talk to you and Luz.”

#the owl house #lumity #luz x amity #Percy Jackson AU #shelby speaks

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naturalcritfail · 4 years

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Ironwood Sucks as a General. You can’t change my mind. (Warning spoilers if you haven’t seen Vol 6 and Vol 7.)

Okay this has bothered me a lot and I don’t normally post but I felt this was needed. James Ironwood should not be a General. This isn’t just stemming from the sheer rage I feel for him as of the most recent episodes. This goes all the way to before Beacon fell. Right off the bat, Ironwood was way too dependant on one of his resources. Atlas Technology. He figured well nobody else has shown that they can keep up with him that must just mean that a threat doesn’t exist. Even a General in peacetime should prepare for what COULD happen. There should have been plans for WHEN somebody hacks the military not IF. (especially if all your systems are inner connected. That’s asking for trouble). Then there’s his approach to the White Fang. He wanted to instantly make a show of his toys. Show everyone. (even the people of a foreign kingdom) Just what Atlas could do. he wanted to send his men (Yes I’m counting androids in his army.) in blind on enemy territory. You know what is often involved in wars? Maps. Even if you wanted a bomber run you still look at the area. Yes, it was Mountian Glenn and it was probably mapped out before. But if you say that an enemy has moved to a certain position you triple check EVERYTHING. A mountain is a big place. (Doesn’t do you any good to bomb the top of a mountain if your targets are living in caves at the base of it now does it?) Wars are won with two things. Resources and Information. You can have all the guns, dust, Megazords and nukes you want. But if you don’t know where your enemy is, or their basic command structure you won’t be able to put down an enemy for good. (How to win a war 101 dude come on) Now that, that’s done let’s look at the Ace Ops. Five members of his inner sanctum. Each of them the “best” in Atlas. All of them loyal and filled in on what they are up against. Nothing wrong there. However, what were the criteria for how they were selected? Cause five soldiers that are best on their own don’t necessarily work the best on a team. Clover seemed to be a lurker. Watching the enemy and waiting for the right opening. Good thing for a leader to have. Harriet was the speedster. Her whole thing was hit fast and keep the opponent off their feet so they don’t get a chance to recover. Again nothing really wrong here, and if you pair her with just Clover they’d be the best for sure. Clover pointing out weak points for Harriet to hit would be a great strategy for those two to use. Next up is Marrow. His whole thing is freezing and essentially matrixing out of the way of his opponent’s attacks while also giving him time to land in his own blows. Pairing him with either Harriet or Clover would be an amazing idea. Then We have Vine and Elm. These two work well together on their own. Vine is a lot like Clover sits back and observes before making his move while Elm goes in and engages the enemy and exposes any weaknesses it may have that she couldn’t necessarily see/access on her own. However, there is a small problem with them. What happens if all five of this team aren’t present under ideal circumstances. Say for instance Vine and Clover where stuck working together on a mission that requires a hard hitter. I’m sure the two could take it down from a bit of strategizing and Clover’s Semblance working overtime, but that’s not a guarantee. Vine’s “reach” (for lack of a better term that I’ve seen for his semblance) and Clover’s weapon aren’t going to be effective against something like Cordovin's Mech, Same could be applied to Harriet and Elm in a situation that requires a softer touch. Harriet is impatient and figures if she can’t get touched she can't lose a fight. But what happens if she’s in a limiting area that doesn’t allow her area to run in. A tunnel with a dead-end perhaps, or the edge of a cliff where she can’t run anywhere, she doesn’t carry a weapon like a pistol or anything meaning she wouldn’t be much of a help to Elm, who is also more of a hazard. Elm’s weapon is meant to break things, add that with her semblance to make her nearly an immovable object. However, put her in a small confined space and she’s limited in what she can do. She could use her hammer to keep the enemy at bay but if it’s a close-range fight against someone like Neo who uses a bit of light footedness and a bit of mind games in a fight she doesn’t stand a chance. Marrow can work on his own solo, his semblance gives him the best chance to either take out his opponent or fall back and regroup after a few attacks don’t work. But add in multiple targets from multiple areas and he’s on his own. So Just because someone is loyal and good in one circumstance doesn’t mean that adding them to a group of four other strangers doesn’t mean that they’ll be the very best (like no one ever was) Cause guess what. As the mighty Qui Jon Jinn once said, “There’s always a bigger fish” which I think we can all agree. Salem is currently that said fish. Next on the list is THE RELIC HE’S GUARDING! You know the one holding up Atlas. Seriously He had nothing guarding it. He just left the door completely exposed. HE EVEN HAD AN ELEVATOR BASICALLY TAKE YOU TOO IT! No identification needed. No security systems nearby to make sure that if somebody snuck in there like I don’t know Cinder (who snuck into your office) They could try and get the relic, or rig the place to blow so nobody could get access to its power and literally have Atlas crash into Mantle. Here’s an idea for you. HAVE ARMED GUARDS NEARBY AT ALL TIMES! Or better yet. Have your top of the class go and guard the thing the second you found out that Cinder is in Atlas. Cause A) you could have stalled for time for reinforcements to get there and just overwhelm her before she could even touch the door. B) it wouldn’t be easy to get to if you had a Winter Maiden go full Vader and Join Salem along with Cinder. C) you like showing the world your tech. Why not keep some of your best toys down there cause then no one would see it coming. D) It would stop anyone from getting access to it period. (you know like a farm boy you shot.) E) it makes a great hiding place for a particular Winter Maiden so you could move the relic if you had too. Plus you’d be in better control when it would come time for her to either give the powers willingly or rip them out and force them into your chosen warrior. (while also limiting her exposure to people in general). Last but not least. His ideas of what he needs to do. He’s having issues dealing with the Grimm in Mantle. You want to know how you take care of that? Well, first you don’t arrest anyone that’s killing the Grimm that break into the cities. Then you send your resources to your defensive line. (You know like Robyn wanted you to do.) Then you worry about contacting the other kingdoms. Yes, I liked the idea of a floating communications tower and using Amity was perfect considering all you had to do was some “basic” modifications, But it doesn’t do any good if everyone in the kingdom who is probably your workforce (Mantle) is dead or scared which are bringing in more Grimm. Want to know what else would help limit the Grimm a bit... Not leaving the people who are technically your superiors and/or your equals in the total dark. People have questions genius. Give them what you can. This is not a situation where no news is good news. People are scared and want to know what you are doing to make them feel safe besides having a single robot flying around killing Grimm after they get past your shitty fortifications. Sorry for the long post. Thanks for coming to my TED talk/ Ironwood hate post. Here’s a picture I found that I hope you enjoy.

#rwby v7 #spoilers #james ironwood #rwby #general ironwood #ace ops #rwby criticism #rwde

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 4 years

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Interior designer Danny Fenton! If you enjoy this please hit that reblog button!

Danny had been on somewhat of a hyper fixation spiral since Sydney had explained how Sanctuaries work in the Infinite Realms. You make one from the surrounding ectoplasm and it’s your place. Only assholes will invade your sanctuary without permission and you have every right to fight them over it. Danny acknowledged that ghosts were people, and like people, he didn’t want them just waltzing into his house because the only nearby door to Earth was in it.

So, Danny had taken a blank sketchbook, let some of that ghostly energy flow into his mind, and considered how he wanted his sanctuary to look. It took weeks of drawing, of looking up pictures of the ISS, going to that abandoned observatory at that one hill, going with Sam on a trip to a jungle (he’d learned that bugs were discouraged from being near him if he let out little pulses of energy) and his own hike through Amity’s woods. He found himself tugged and drawn toward so many places for inspiration it shocked him. He drew server rooms, a room for nothing but videogames, a movie theater, a bowling alley. The library, the arcade, that coffee shop Sam liked that sold weird books, the park, Danny filled his sketchbook up and up and up (it shouldn’t have this many pages in it but his life was so strange he didn’t even notice that).

A month after Danny had come up with this plan, he was in a pottery class, learning how the process of molding clay at your fingertips felt and worked. He had to leave to fight ghosts, yes, but he was learning and the art of turning a pile of mush into something new made something in Danny sing.

Walking through the portal always brought back the most awful memories, but he soldiered on because this? It was important. Danny sat in front of the portal on the other side, surrounded by dark void and glowing green, blue, indigo, and violet mist (it was those colors and more, it was all the colors human eyes could not see). He lay one hand on his sketchbook, closed his eyes, breathed in, and let his energy flow outward. Immediately the mists pulsed and ebbed and flowed and danced to the tune of his core and Danny imagined himself drawing and molding at the same time. His aura shone brighter and brighter, and around the portal formed steel and stone, which extended upward, downward, outward. For an age, Danny let himself get lost in the sheer art of creation and the world around him hummed and thrummed as it was pulled closer together and twisted and stretched and aligned just so.

As a favor to a boy they would not know personally for some time, she twisted the dilation of Time around the Fenton Portal relative to Earth. Thanks to him, an hour would pass in that material Realm while Danny was lost in an obsession he didn’t even know he had - creating. Ectoplasm and the Soul both were infinite and as such Danny wove together the most beautiful tapestry he could without pause.

When Danny finally opened his eyes and the burning power ebbed back into his still ringing core, he was inside of a room. It was his workshop back home, or a replica of it, instead of his parents’ lab, though the portal was right where it was in the lab of course. He let his feet rest on the smooth linoleum or at least what he thought might be linoleum, and hummed. He walked over to the stairs and ascended, noting that artifact storage and weapon storage were both there. The kitchen, however, was very different. It was like something out a professional restaurant, every surface looking beautifully clean with knives and spoons and measuring tools and bowls and everything one could wish for to cook a five-star meal with littering the place. Meals he cooked with his dad, disasters he’d helped his mom and sister either make or destroy, Tucker and his mom’s home cooking, Agatha’s wonders all came to mind and Danny grinned. There was enough room for all of them to work together on something here.

The living room had couches, beanbag chairs, and very well cushioned chairs everywhere, the carpet feeling like a soft moss under his toes when he took off his boots and the walls and ceiling covered in murals of a forest under a starry night sky. When Danny flicked his fingers, a holographic screen appeared in the air and he beamed. Scrolling around quickly showed that signals were caught rather easily through the portal and he could connect to the internet or to any version of a cable package on Earth. “Tucker will love this.” That thought, of course, led Danny deeper into the house, to the stairs and up them toward a room. Crisscrossing the room were lines like circuits, gold, green, and red the theme of the room. It appeared a cross between a lab and a living room.

The largest feature was a sunken area in the middle of the floor that housed a circular bank of computers, as well as a bolted and padded chair that spun in a circle to reach every screen. Over to one side was a table with a sewing machine, countless pieces of fabric off on a shelf nearby. To the other side was a table with an entire DnD map on it, miniatures laid out waiting to take form. To one side as well there was a cabinet next to a refrigerator and a freezer, all labeled ‘chemicals’, and wow, Danny should probably check what those were. He knew Tucker was starting to dabble in chemistry but anything made from ectoplasm was probably dangerous to go experimenting with. The dartboard in the visage of a computerized eye was, in Danny’s humble opinion, a nice touch on his part.

“Well, there’s only one other door here besides the entrance and I’m gonna bet that’s like, an extra bedroom. So, let’s see what else we’ve got here.” Danny floated down the halls and hummed when he found a door made of polished obsidian with streaks of thread woven around it. He pulled open the door and chuckled. “Wow. plants everywhere, spider silk all over the place, black and purple with rebellion posters. I wonder who this room is for.” Danny floated up to the ceiling when he caught an odd glint and raised a brow at the cameras hovering in a strange formation. But then he pulled back down and snorted when he realized they were arranged like the eyes of a spider. There was a door labeled dark room where only a red light could be seen and when Danny touched the floor with his hand he found that it absolutely was some kind of moss. “I wonder how alive anything I like, willed into existence around here, can be. Is this real moss feeding on the ambient energy in Realms or does it just look and feel like that cause I thought it was thematically appropriate?”

Deciding that was best left for later, Danny flew off down the hall and up the winding stairs once more, finding himself suddenly in a library that seemed to go on and on in all directions. Shelves upon shelves that towered twice his height littered this floor so far like a maze that Danny couldn’t tell if there was an end made of true walls or if that second floor ringed with a brass balcony was supported by yet more bookshelves. Couches and chairs and tables were scattered all around, and the carpet was a soft lilac with orange and blue eye patterns repeating all over it. “This doesn’t feel like Sam or Tuck… it feels like Jazz. Wow, the rooms really feel like them. Ok, Fenton, don’t get too wrapped up in that. Ghost stuff is weird and you’ve felt and seen what your friends’ aurae are like before. This is just a whole nother level of it, in your own personal afterlife home.”

Spinning around the spiral staircase once he found it up to the very top of the building found Danny in an observatory, to understate. There was a telescope that looked out and up into the void toward the dots and pinpricks of light that hinted at the spirits of stars shining in the distance. The walls were all made of glass - likely one-way glass - and each was a different color, each reflecting a different view of somewhere on Earth. Most of them showed Amity, the places he went to most frequently, and the places he had to protect most often, but there was also a view of the whole of NASA’s facilities, the night sky, the biggest planetarium in the world, etcetera. Danny felt tears rising to his eyes, blurring his vision. “This is beautiful…”

On one table was a map, shifting and changing like waves on the ocean, which showed all the places that Danny had been in the Infinite Realms. There was a door that led to a room filled with easels, canvas, paint, brushes, pencils, paper, everything he could ever crave for drawing and molding art from clay and ink and paper. A flick of his fingers brought up a hologram when he got close to some speakers and every song he’d ever listened to was there, somehow in full even when his memories had faded of the lyrics and names.

“Alright. Ok, I can’t- I can’t stay here or I’ll never leave. I have to bring Tucker and Sam to see this.” Danny looked out a window, this one opening up onto a balcony, and he gasped. Stretching out for at least a mile or three was violet stone under several buildings. It looked for all the world like a town surrounding his house, with a forest and wood surrounding that town. “Holy shit. Yeah, I gotta show Tucker and Sam.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Sanctuary #Lairs #Danny's Lair #fanfiction #phanfiction #phanfic #fanfic #fanphic #fanphiction #phanphiction #phanphic #Rexy Writes

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aggressivelyclueless · 5 years

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The Raven And The Ghost

prompted by: @ectowaves "Danny tore the infi-map and half, and needs the Ghost Writer to help him fix it. While he is fixing it, the Ghost Writer blackmails Danny into searching for things that the Ghost Writer wants but are difficult to find." Words: 6123

Good going, idiot. You've really done it this time. Two corners of the map were still clutched in his hands, but his eyes were fixed on the still-smoldering hole through the middle. The edges were just a blackened crisp; its mystical energy sputtered out with a hiss like a burning coal being dropped into a pot of cold water, and it became only a piece of wrinkled parchment in his hands. Danny's heart sank. You promised you'd take really good care of it, didn't you? said the little ghost voice in his head, delighting in his discomfort. You're going to have to take it back and explain how you ruined it. He traced around the hole with one finger, not daring to touch it in case it would disintegrate further, and sighed. How in the world was he going to fix it? Good parchment wasn't cheap, and he knew that trying to glue it together was out of the question. Even if he could make the repairs, would its magic come back? When he'd held it for the first time, it had nearly buzzed in his hands. Now, it was just paper. An idea came to him all at once, and he tore his eyes away from the ruined map and out toward the vast expanse before him. He knew of a spirit that might have some advice. They'd tangled once in the past, although neither one of them had really won; they hadn't exactly parted on good terms, and he knew it was a long shot. Still, he didn't have much of a choice. If such an artifact could be fixed, he had to ensure that it was. He gingerly folded the remnants of the map up and tucked them safely away, pulling out his cruder, hand-drawn one to navigate. When he'd explored for the first time, he'd thought that everything here was fixed in one place, like it was in his world. He found out later on that certain landmarks tended to migrate, and he'd almost given up there and then. Only recently had he begun to find the little tells and patterns that governed space here; it was why he'd borrowed the mystical map in the first place, and he'd found most phenomena were the result of a consistent pattern, rather than just a series of anomalies. He spotted the little building hovering benignly in empty space, and tucked the map away. He floated closer, psyching himself up, and landed on the marble steps; he paused, thinking of anything he could say that might convince the spirit to listen to him. He had a feeling he might be doing a fair amount of begging, and he hated to think about it, but he knew he'd hate it even more if he had to return the map in its current state. Finally he gave the door to the library a knock. "Gah, can't a guy be left to write in peace?" grumbled the spirit from inside. His footsteps approached the door, and it swung open a second later. He looked like he'd been trading sleep for coffee; dark circles hung under his eyes, and even when he was standing still the tips of his fingers kept twitching. His gaze fell to Danny, and he frowned. "Hey, I remember you," he said, "Weren't you the one that ruined my holiday this winter past?" Danny felt small. "Yeah, look, I know it's been a while and things got kind of out of hand, but I need a favor - " "You come to me to ask for help? Get lost!" the ghost snapped, "I'm very busy - I don't have the time to squabble with the likes of you - " "Look," said Danny (wait is that iambic? is he doing that on purpose? ugh, I hate this already), "If it wasn't important I wouldn't even be here. You think I wanted to spend a perfectly good Saturday coming all the way out here to bother you? If you help me out with this, I'll owe you one, okay?" He pulled out the ruined map; when it was folded up, only a small edge of the burned hole was visible, but the artifact itself was unmistakable. "What's this?" the writer paused, still irritable but unable to help his curiosity at the moment. He took the map from Danny, unfolded it a little, and his eyes widened. "You've wrecked it, truly - stupid careless brat! You think I'll drop my work and fix your errs?" Danny cringed. "Look, I didn't mean to - it was an accident, I swear!" "I'll bet you have a lot of those," said the ghost with a sneer. "I was hoping you could fix it," said Danny, ignoring that last comment, "If you can't, just say so and quit wasting my time, but after what happened last time - " "A near-improvisation, kid," said the ghost with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Make no mistake - the question here is not if it's within my capability to make repairs to such an artifact! Of course I can! The question, then, becomes: why should I? You're the one that brought this awful mess upon yourself! Although - now that I think about it, kid, perhaps I still could use you after all - " "Use me?" Danny interrupted, bristling. He didn't like where this was going, but he shut his mouth anyway without further protest. You knew this was coming. Suck it up and start begging, kid. The writer nodded. "Of course! You know that something can't be had for free? Now listen. I've been having awful luck in writing up the latest chapter of my newest tale. I think I need a break - but I cannot sit idle, so I'll turn instead to prose, and I just know that you'll do nicely as the subject - " "Now hang on a second!" said Danny, putting one hand up before the writer could get any further. He remembered what had happened over his holiday break - the ghost had crawled right into his head and written him into a poem, and it had been a nightmare. "You really want to write me into another one of your stupid stories?" "Stupid stories? Ha!" the ghost exclaimed, baring his teeth in a fiendish grin, "You'll do it if you ever want to see your carelessness erased! I know you'll hate it - that's the point! - but you don't have a thing that's left to barter with, and so I ask you once, once only: now do you accept or not?" Danny hesitated. Just listening to the writer speak made him dread what was coming - he realized exactly how much he'd come to hate iambic after having slept through learning about it in class - but the writer had laid it all out for him. He really didn't have any other choice. With a defeated groan, he hung his head. "Fine. You win. Write your story. Just please don't do the stupid rhymes - " "I'll write it as I please!" snapped the ghost, "You've given up your say! Now, come inside and sit. A plot befitting one such as yourself does not come quickly to my mind, and - oh. Perhaps, in fact, it does..." He stepped back, keeping his eyes on Danny as a new idea fell into place in his head. He floated down to the center of his spectral keyboard, still chewing over some of the details. The first time he'd written Danny into his work, it had been predominantly for vengeance; in retrospect, though, the tale had turned out alright, but had been more fun to compose than to reread afterward. This time, he aimed differently. "You know," he said after a moment of serious contemplation, "I think I might have found a task for you. There dwells within the depths an artifact that I've sought after for some years now - " "What?" Danny exclaimed, "It's not enough that I'm letting you write me into another one of your bizarre stories - now you want me to go on some stupid goose chase too - ?" The writer shot him a look. "Silence! Don't you interrupt me, brat! You'll do as I instruct!" He held Danny's eyes for a moment, in case he'd interrupt again, and only continued when he didn't. "There lies, in deepest corners of the dark, a thing revered, unholy, and accursed - you will obtain it for me. That is what I ask." "What is it?" Danny asked, not really wanting to know. "The pen that penned The Raven," said the writer quietly. He turned to Danny; his smile had vanished, but the glimmer of reverence was still in his eyes. He spoke in total seriousness, his hands finally sitting still on either side of the keyboard before him. "Now, I know it still exists - but I have yet to find it, even though I've searched for years. I'm certain you'll do well - " "You're kidding," said Danny flatly, "Your best idea is to make me go look for some old dead guy's favorite pen. Are you out of your mind? That's the stupidest thing you've said this whole time! Forget it!" The writer huffed. "You'll do it - this, I'm certain of. In fact, if you succeed, then I won't have to write a sequel, will I? Still - your torment is amusing, and - " "Okay, I get it," Danny snapped. He knew at the start that he'd hate it, but did the guy have to be so smug about it to his face? Part of him wanted to take the map back and figure it out himself. It couldn't really be worth all this, could it? Figures he'd want to go after some legendary pen. I bet the stupid thing's not even magical or anything. I bet he's just a dweeb about it. Ugh, so much for my Saturday. He turned back to the writer. "Fine. I'll go and find your stupid pen - but so help me if you don't have that map fixed by the time I get back - " The fiendish grin returned. "I knew you'd see it my way. Now, be silent and begone! I've much to do. A tale won't write itself, you know!" Danny already hated this. Great. Not just a story, I'd bet ten bucks he's gotta make the stupid thing rhyme, too. I hate this already. He turned without another word and flew off as the writer's keyboard came to life behind him.

We'll open up our little story in a town called Amity Park. Our hero - if we can even call him that, let's be quite honest with ourselves here - begins alone in his room, given only his mission. " - and you're already talking in my head again. Great," Danny groused, annoyed. "You gotta narrate, too? Can't a guy just go and find a stupid pen in peace?" Now, what would be the fun in that? I'll tell you, though - you've gotten of quite lucky this time. This is only an outline, you know. I'll write the completed draft in verse. "Verse? You mean you're going to make me do this stupid thing twice?" Ohoho, I'd really like that. Believe me, nothing would make me happier. Unfortunately, it isn't the sort of verse that I can throw together like you made me do last time. It's exhausting! I'm certain it'll take me weeks! Danny groaned. "Fantastic. You gotta be oh-so-smug about it, too. Why did I think this was a good idea?" He thought, before he could begin to feel too sorry for himself, that he might have been particularly lucky this draft was not written in verse at all - certainly, it would take much longer, and he'd be driven simply mad by the format. "I get it already. Would you at least stay out of my head when you narrate?" The writer promised nothing. When it came right down to it, this was his story, written for his own benefit. The ideas or opinions of the characters within were of surprisingly little concern to him. Fortunately for one of them, he had been destined to retain his willpower - at least for the time being. Surely, he'd be miserable without a little thing like that. But I digress. Danny sat on the foot of his bed, trying to drive the voice to the back of his mind. He was only moderately successful. He thought, after a moment, of the poem that the writer had mentioned. The Raven. He'd heard its title once before, but once only, and he couldn't recall anything specific about it. It certainly sounded like something a ghost would be interested in, he speculated, or something that could be recited at Halloween or around the campfire. Thought Danny: there's got to be someone who would know more about this? Of course there was, and she was one of his best friends. He transformed at once, uncaring of the lateness of the hour, or - "Lateness of the hour? Really? What century are you from, anyway? I thought you doing iambic was stupid, but, like. Really?" Any annoyance of the little ghost was a great satisfaction to the author. His little snide remarks would only cause him to be needled further; knowing that, he flew on in silence. He reached the residence of his friend, and floated briefly outside her window. He'd been nothing but a wisp on the breeze for most of his flight, and he supposed he really should knock and wait for her to let him in. If he'd read the original poem at all, and not thrown it swiftly and forcefully from his mind at every opportunity, he might have noticed a certain similarity to the events described in the verse. As it was, he was wholly and irredeemably uncultured. "Would you shut up, you pretentious idiot?" Danny snapped, but the window opened a second later and he was forced to refocus. "Danny?" his friend asked, "What are you doing out here so late? Did you find trouble?" "Kinda," said the little ghost, floating in from the window and plopping down upon her chamber floor. "Well, yeah. You know how last Christmas things kinda went off the rails?" "I remember," said Sam, "Wasn't that the time you said you were being manipulated by a literary ghost?" "Yeah," said Danny, "The short version is that it's happening again, and I'm gonna need you to back me up on this one." Sam thought about it for a moment. "What kind of help?" "He blackmailed me," said Danny, which was entirely untrue. In fact, the writer had merely conceived of a plotline befitting the little brat - one which would provide adequate compensation for the tired writer's time. Perhaps he should have been a bit more understanding? Of course, things like that went right over his head. A lot of things probably did, mused the writer. Danny scowled; Sam mistook it as annoyance at her, mostly to make things unnecessarily difficult for him. "You want my help or not, Danny?" "Yeah - sorry - Sam, look. There's a certain poem that he mentioned. It sounded kind of spooky so I thought you might know more about it." "I'm listening," said Sam, not entirely convinced that he wasn't losing his mind. She crossed her arms, saying nothing after that. "He said it was called The Raven," said Danny, "Heard of it?" Sam nodded. "Uh, yeah. Every goth in town knows it by heart. That's Classic Poetry 101 for us. What do you need to know about it?" "I need to find the pen of the guy who wrote it," said Danny. "If anyone can help me out, it'd be you. Please?" Sam sighed. "Fine, but you owe me for this one." "Deal." Sam turned to the splendidly decorated bookshelf on her wall. She perused the tomes for a moment - (the writer paused, catching some of the titles and taking notes on the more recent ones he hadn't heard of, and then began typing again) - and settled on the one she'd been looking for. The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe, the cover read, and she flipped it open. "Everybody's read The Raven," she explained as she picked slowly through the pages, "Masque of the Read Death had always been a favorite of mine, though. You said you were looking for the pen that wrote it?" "Yeah," said Danny, "I guess I'm not really sure what I'm expecting, honestly. Am I gonna have to fight the ghost of the guy? Would he be super powerful? Should I be worried?" "Probably not," said Sam with a shrug, "Authors aren't usually too dangerous." "Right," said Danny, knowing exactly how dangerous an author could be, provided they could wield their work. He wouldn't soon forget that lesson. "I'm pretty sure it won't say in the poem, though, I mean - " Sam paused, frowning. "Wait. Maybe it does." "What did you find?" Danny asked, taking a look over her shoulder at the pages. "Well," said Sam, handing the book over to him since she knew the whole thing by heart I guess (the writer reminded himself to have a chat with this Sam later - she was almost on the same level of classic-goth fan as him, and if he was careful about approaching her she might not even be mad). "Some of the verses in the poem talk about where the Raven comes from, well, where the narrator thinks the Raven came from. Night's Plutonian Shore is mentioned a handful of times, mostly because you can only put so many rhymes into something like this before it gets kind of repetitive. I don't suppose you know about a place like that in the Ghost Zone?" "I don't know, maybe someplace really deep that we haven't been able to explore yet," Danny admitted reluctantly that he didn't actually know the Ghost Zone as well as he always said he did. "You think there's a place like that for real?" "If there is, the Ghost Zone's where it would be, and that would be where you'd find this magic pen," said Sam, snapping the book shut. She returned it with care back to her shelf, and gave Danny a shrug. "You may as well check it out." "Thanks, Sam. You're the best." Danny gave her a smile, and then fluttered out the window again. As soon as he was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to the voice he'd been trying to ignore. "I heard that comment about you being dangerous," he snapped, "You're really full of yourself now, aren't you?" What the little ghost had completely forgotten to take into account was that he was flying a little too low, and his petty remark went answered only by a lamppost that smacked him in the face because he didn't watch where he was going. "Quit it! Ugh!" Danny exclaimed, exasperated, "I'm supposed to be doing you a favor here, remember?" He flew higher again, grumbling to himself the entire time, and landed a minute later in the basement of his house. The portal his father built was usually open, and tonight was no exception. His father nodded, nearly napping, on top of some half-finished project or other, and Danny went unnoticed. He turned, took a deep breath, and flew into the portal. The Ghost Zone - or, at least, this portion of it - had become increasingly familiar to him the more times he'd come. It wasn't, however, where he was headed. He had only a crude and inferior map to guide him this time. It was probably the one that he deserved, considering how careless he was with anything of even slight importance - "Do you have to bring that up? Can't you just narrate for ten seconds while I find this place? How far could it even be, anyway?" The ungrateful little brat clearly didn't have any idea where he was going. As if some force of karma was keeping track of his unbridled sarcasm, he found out the hard way what sorts of things lurked behind Skulker's den - awful growling and snarling things that swarmed and bit and clawed, and Danny thought that, since they were small, they would pose few problems for him. "Okay, I get it, sorry, sorry - ow! These guys really hurt!" Danny turned and fled anyway, having been bitten at least three times, and pulled a straggler off the arm of his suit. "Little but really sharp teeth! Jeez!" Perhaps, suggested the voice in the ghost's head, he might be a little more careful about how prickly he was against the one who could throw any obstacle he wanted into his path. Maybe one of these times, he'd remember who was really in charge, and he'd learn to bite his tongue to curry favor. "Oh, I get it," said Danny, still sour about having been attacked by the little gremlin ghosts, "Even when you're writing this thing, I'm still supposed to suck up to you? Here's a sentiment for you: kiss my - " Fate was swifter this time; Danny hadn't been watching where he was going again - he'd fled the swarm of biting things, but appeared to have wandered into - (the writer paused, fuming for a moment, and then continued a second later once he'd thought of something suitably unpleasant) - into one of the numerous mysterious door that floated throughout the Zone itself. It was anyone's guess where they'd open up. Sometimes, he'd get lucky, and find what he was looking for. Other times - take a wild guess, Danny. He found himself in a treacherous wasteland where two eldritch abominations were locked in an eternal battle. The door swung shut behind him before he could fly back out, and he turned to face the horrible beasts. One of them noticed him immediately, and made a grab for him with one of its skeleton hands. Danny was only barely quick enough to avoid it. An ectoplasmic blast formed in each hand, and he threw them one after the other at the monstrous ghost. It swiped at him again, this time knocking him down out of the void and onto the scarred battlefield. The other one loomed over him; it appeared they had come to a temporary but immediate truce, solely for the purpose of obliterating the intruder first. Danny gulped. "Can't we work this out - ?" He turned and fled, fast but not fast enough. The skeletal ghost shrieked; the other one - a bulky shadowy thing - lunged at him, and pinned him in a second under its giant hands. Danny tried his best. He twisted around so that he could fire another ectoblast, but the bulky ghost was only angered. Its brutish teeth were bared, and he squirmed free a second before it would have taken his head off. "Okay already!" Danny cried, "I get it! Can you write me out of this now?" The skeletal ghost came after him - distracted, he was too slow; it smacked him down again, formed its own ectoblast in a bright red, and threw it down at him. Danny was hit. He tumbled across the barren landscape, skidding to a stop face-down a second later. He shook the dizziness away, pulling himself back up to his feet. He didn't dare look away from the two monstrous ghosts again. "Seriously, can we go?" Ooh, he was getting desperate now. "I know you're still listening! I know you're being really smug about this! I really hate it but I'm keeping my mouth shut about it now can we go??" The bulky shadow-ghost pounced again, missing Danny by an inch as he flew up to put some space between them. He fired another few ectoblasts, hoping to put one of its eyes out, but it caught them in its giant hand and then formed them together. This was probably going to hurt. Danny knew he wasn't going to defeat them, no matter what he tried. There was only one option left that could work, but it was really anyone's guess whether he'd be too proud to - "I'mreallysorryIkeepmakingfunofyouIpromiseI'llkeepmymouthshutaboutitfromnowonnowcanwepleasegobeforethisthingkillsme??" said Danny, at the last possible second before it was too late ("All in one breath?" the writer exclaimed, "That's actually kind of impressive!"). He was fortunate. The ghost turned to its foe, thinking it had gained the upper hand, and their eternal battle continued. Danny had been forgotten about. He flew off before either of them could change their minds and come after him again. He knew just how lucky he'd been - that giant ectoblast might just have ended him, and he didn't really want to find out for sure - and he eventually flew off to the end of the barren battlefield. The rest of the ghost Zone was an empty expanse before him, and this time, perhaps, he'd be a little more careful. He really did hate it, though. Deeper into the Ghost Zone our impudent little hero went, and the further along he got the darker of a space it became. The ever-shifting mist of the horizon slowly gave way to the void - true void, or as close as there was to such a thing - and he felt a thousand eyes on him from the shadows on all sides. "Don't make these guys attack me too," said Danny, quietly enough where he hoped he wouldn't catch their attention. A couple of them scampered a little bit closer, and he added, just to be safe, "Please?" Ah, so the ghost was starting to learn after all. The little things in the shadows only watched as he passed, and after floating for a long time in near-complete darkness, he was beginning to perceive his surroundings again. The first thing he saw was the moon - not the same as the moon in the living world, but a moon nonetheless - and he followed after it. He thought, perhaps, that it might lead him out of the darkness. He was wrong about that, but he wasn't about to complain. This was unfamiliar territory for him; he'd never been this deep in the Ghost Zone before, and he had absolutely no idea what to expect. Whatever was on the other end of the void, he was dreading it. That much, he knew for sure. He followed the moon for a long time, and only when he began to get close enough to it to make out the little details on its surface did he realize what it really was. Not the moon, he realized, but Pluto - he could tell by the unmistakeable heart shape on the lower part of its surface. He turned downwards, already getting a better idea of what to expect. He could make out the almost-still surface of an endless ocean, glittering with a thousand tiny reflections of the celestial body overhead, and he paused over the water to see if he could find a direction. He picked one, seemingly at random, and flew onward. It was eerily quiet over the Plutonian ocean, and the fact that there was planet-light but no starlight didn't sit right with him. He knew where most of the stars were supposed to go, though, and he thought maybe if he pretended hard enough, the writer might throw him a bone and narrate them in. The writer wasn't about to do that. This was the Ghost Zone. There were no stars here. Don't be ridiculous. The ocean seemed to stretch forever, and Danny flew until he was certain he couldn't fly anymore. How far had he come? He couldn't tell, but just as he was about to collapse was when he spotted a different light on the horizon. At first, he probably would have mistaken it for a star, or perhaps another planet, but in the dark he was certain he knew what it was. He knew exactly what it was, but it was so far away, and he'd been flying for so long, and he was so tired, that he just couldn't keep himself up anymore. He fell beneath the waves, and things began to go dark. The last thing he saw was the dappled form of Pluto somewhere off to one side of him.

Danny had washed up on a silent beach. He woke all at once, and it took him a second to get his bearings. He looked up at the sky - still no stars, but at least Pluto was above him. Had he made it? The Night's Plutonian Shore? "Thanks," was all he said, and slowly got up to his feet. He was still tired, but no longer exhausted. In either direction along the shore, all he could see was beach. The really spooky thing, though, was the fact that everything was silent. Beaches weren't supposed to be like that, and if he was really honest it weirded him out. "Hey, it does not," said Danny, but he only half-meant it. He glanced around one final time, and then headed past the back up onto the hill in the distance. Beyond the hill was an old desolate forest, cut through by an equally desolate old dirt road. The trees there were dead, each coming up from the barren ground like a mangled hand, and he could see enormous flocks of shadowy birds perched overhead. did he know what they were called, if they were all in a group like that? "Murders," said Danny, quietly, to himself. He may have been only half-dead, but the sentiment was still there, and he was careful to keep himself as quiet as he could as he went up the rutted old dirt road. The ghostly birds shifted as he passed, but all they did, for the moment, was watch. The road led up to a single house up on a little hill. He knew this had to be the place. He'd made it this far. What was there left for him possibly to be afraid of? Something told him he didn't really want to ask, partly because he wanted to stay focused and partly because the cosmic forces at play could very easily will such dread into form, and he wanted to avoid that if at all possible. Danny came up to the little house, and paused. Taking a moment to psych himself up, he tried the door. It came open quite easily, and he peered inside. Despite the shape of the house from the outside, the interior was small and square. It appeared to be a study, with books stacked up to the ceiling on every wall, and a somewhat-pretentious desk presiding over the far corner. Upon the desk sat a globe, and a massive leather-bound tome. The tome was open; everything up to a certain point had been written in, and the lower section of the right-side page was blank. A single gas lamp flickered on the desk, casting shadows that danced across the walls, and Danny got the feeling he shouldn't be here. He didn't find anything immediately out-of-place, and he didn't see anything lurking in the corners, but he still had the feeling of being watched. He hated it. The door to the little room suddenly swung shut behind Danny, making him jump. He spun around, and that was when he saw it: the Raven itself, perched upon a bust just above the chamber door. It was still and silent, but it was staring down into him. "Must be the place," he said to himself, taking a deep breath. The ebony bird watched him, but didn't appear to be malevolent. Its head tilted just so when he moved; apart from that, it remained perfectly still. Danny decided not to pay it much mind. He turned his attention, instead, to the desk, and noticed that sitting neatly just beside the unfinished tome before him was an elegant little glass case which contained the pen itself (the writer paused as one of his hands cramped up - he hated it when that happened - and flexed it out a few times. It took him a second after that to go and catch up to where his literary train of thought had left him). "You good?" Danny asked. "Yeah, figured." He hesitated, his hand over the little glass case. He had a feeling the Raven might have something to say about it if he touched it. He glanced back up at the bird; not a feather then he fluttered, as if it may have been a statue itself, but its little black eyes were burning. It was almost as if it was daring him to make the mistake of stealing such an artifact. Danny kept his eyes on the Raven perched upon the bust of Pallas just above the chamber door. His hand slowly came to a rest on the case, and opened it. The Raven just watched. He took the mythical pen then; he took it, and floated back across the little room to the chamber door. It had swung shut, but it wasn't locked when he tried it. He flung it open, taking his eyes off the bird at the same second that he made a break for it back down the road. The quill was clutched in both hands as he went, and after only a minute he was back on the Night's Plutonian Shore. He'd only startled the crows in the woods, and some of them cawed unhappily after him, but none of them would bother to chase him. Danny flew back up into the Plutonian sky, not hesitating or turning back over his shoulder in case anything might find him or catch up to him. He flew for a long time, with the planet-light at his back, and only when it dimmed to total darkness behind him did the more familiar swirls of the Ghost Zone begin to return to the edges of his vision. Seeing them made him feel better in an instant. He still had the magnificent pen in his hands, and he glanced down at it just to be sure. He'd made it.

Danny landed on the steps to the little library. Despite what had happened, he'd been left with a strange quiet calmness, and he pushed the front door to the library open without a word. The door squeaked a little anyway, and he slipped inside. He still held the pen in one hand; it certainly didn't feel magical - he'd probably been right when he'd guessed earlier that the writer had only wanted it because it was cool - but he supposed that was probably for the best. If a thing like that had been magical, it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to give it to a ghost like that in the first place. The writer sat, proofreading, over his keyboard. One stack of papers sat loosely on the space beside it, and he held the last page in his hand. He didn't seem to have expected Danny back so soon; noticing him, the writer jumped. "You're back," he said awkwardly, shoving the paper back into the stack with all the rest and giving the lot a few taps to make them sit neatly against each other. "You've got it - ?" Danny nodded, opening his hand briefly and giving the writer a glance at the thing. "Map?" "Yes, of course," the writer grumbled, swiping at another stack of papers and producing the mythical artifact, "Try not to tear it up again," he handed it to Danny for inspection. Danny took it. His attention was immediately on it, and he set the pen on the side of the writer's keyboard without really acknowledging him. He unfolded the map, just to make sure that it had been wholly repaired; it had, and he tucked it safely away, satisfied. He turned, no longer under the writer's influence and quite happy with himself about it, and floated back to the door. "You know," said the writer, making Danny paused, "You're less a brat than I mistook you for, so long as you can hold your tongue." Danny sighed. There goes the iambic again. Does he really have to do that? "I guess you're not really that insufferable either," he said, despite himself, "so long as everybody wants the same ending. If you ever write up the poem version - send me a copy. It might be good." The writer just nodded, and watched Danny fly off. He turned down to the pen that he'd left on the side of the keyboard, fanned giddily over it for a moment, and then immediately set it up on one shelf for display. He'd gotten his writer's block worked out, he'd gotten another impressive artifact out of the deal, and it was only Saturday. He still had the rest of the weekend ahead of him.

#danny phantom #phic phight 19 #phic phight #team ghost

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warelander · 6 years

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Why do people love Fever 2's story so much? It's not that different from other puyo stories

I can only speak for myself, but there’s a few key factors for me that make it work as well as it does:

-It builds on the characters it established in Fever 1, we now know that Ocean Prince is actually a human who turned himself into a fish, we actually get to see Rei, we find out what the deal with the demon in Klug’s book is.

Compare that to later games, which bring up things, but refuse to elaborate on them, because most characters don’t really play a role anymore.

-The Backstory aspects give Primp a bit more of it’s own mythology, some of which even adds additional context to things that happen in the main story, especially in regards to Sig and Strange Klug.

Later games don’t do that anymore. Suzuran in particular can’t even get it’s own rules straight, considering that Puyo based things already exist there before they are supposed to, according to what we are told by the game.

-All the characters play roles that fit naturally into the story and they even affect each other, the ending of Raffine’s WakuWaku course for instance leads straight to the beginning of Sig’s HaraHara course. Similarly the plot is driven by the characters’ actions and personalities. Klug collecting the items to unseal his book ends up setting the demon free and him giving Rider a letter for Amitie, telling her to come to the Arca Ruins, because he wants to show her off, is the reason why Amitie ends up there to begin with.

From PP7 onwards it really feels like things just happen, because they have to happen. Amitie and Arle are major players in PPT because they conveniently fell from the sky in the first cutscene and Raffine, Feli and Rulue are brainwashed due to the merging of the Puyo/Tetris worlds, which is never adressed again afterwards or even properly explained in why it only happened to them.

The game also uses characters that make sense for the plot, instead of forcing itself to use the same five characters over and over again + whoever happens to be new, like the later ones. This was a time where someone like Ocean Prince could be allowed to be a major part of a story, hard to believe nowadays, but his involvement actually carries two whole courses. I really want that back, instead of the steril kind of usage that the cast sees nowadays.

There’s also the little chats that you can initiate in the menu maps, most of them don’t have to do with the main story, but they are still pretty nice and there’s even a whole sub-plot revolving around the Memory of Chu.

On a personal note there’s also my preferences for how the cast is characterized here and the absence of many overplayed running gags, especially from Compile, but also later SEGA games, like Ringo freaking out over Yu and Rei, which happens every game now and the less I say about the Schezo/Satan cockfights the better.

Again, this is my personal take on why I like Fever 2’s story the most, others may have different reasons, but these are mine.

#puyo puyo #puyo puyo fever 2

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girlsbtrs · 3 years

Text

My Ladybird Moment (Significant Songs in Life)

Written by Mary Ragheb. Graphic by James N. Grey.

(First of all I wanna give the credit for this title to Pablo, that was all their idea and honestly it works perfectly.)

I know I’m not alone when I say that music has carried me through my whole life - whether that was me singing along with the Jonas Brothers in my best friend’s bedroom in elementary school or staring up at the ceiling blasting My Chemical Romance through my headphones in true emo-kid fashion. But I have always had a weird sensitivity to sound. It could be the ADHD talking but hear me out. Songs for me are ultimately almost always attached to some specific memory or feeling, so much so that I don’t think there’s an album in existence that I haven’t cried to at least once.

So I guess this is my ladybird moment/a playlist of my life????

Let’s start with artists and then we’ll get into songs. This is important because I’m starting with literal baby steps here.

Firstly, there’s Umm Kulthum, one of the most decorated and well-known Egyptian singers ever. I spent much of my childhood listening to her sing on cassettes that my parents brought back from Egypt. Obviously I didn’t know how popular she was when I was a child, but even when I catch my dad listening to her in his little home office, I feel a sense of innocent comfort - almost like when my mom used to wrap a blanket around me on our yearly road trips to New Jersey.

Second of all, I have to give an honorable mention to both the Jonas Brothers and One Direction. I mentioned the JoBros earlier, and I know I’m not alone in how much their music brought us joy as kids. My family couldn’t afford to get us iPods, so I spent a lot of time at friends’ houses listening to them on their older sisters’ CD players or flip phones. You remember those swivel-y ones that had a trackpad like an iPod? Yeah those. (Also don’t talk to me if your favorite brother wasn’t Joe. I will die on this hill.) Now One Direction. I wish I was kidding when I say that my first concert was seeing them OPEN for Big Time Rush in 2011. I think that’s the biggest flex I hold to this day. While I cringe at old pictures of me clad in clothes with the British flag all over them, they were honestly my introduction to fandom culture.

Third, let's get into emo baby. I started high school in a whole new country, which to say the least was a difficult adjustment. Kids can be cruel and that’s true no matter where you are, but by 13 and after being the new kid 4 times up to that point; you kinda become a target. And as cliche as it is, it’s what drove me to fall down a hole of Mayday Parade, Paramore and (drum roll please) - yep, you guessed it, All Time Low. Everyone who knows me knows that I love this band with my whole being. Now, there are a slew of reasons as to why. Obviously Therapy is one of them because my god I still cannot listen to that song without crying. Don’t Panic also came out when me and my family flew back to Boston after living abroad for a year. I remember driving through our old neighborhood while Outlines blasted through my headphones - ironically saying “I’m half remembered halfway across the world, twice removed from my second home.” But above all the intricate stories and lyrics that Alex has written over the years, ultimately they are the reason I met one of my best friends. That seems to be a common theme with me. I’ve taken it as the universe telling me to never stop listening to music. Like, ever.

Finally, let’s all get ready to give the greatest round of applause for my college introduction into K-Pop. To be honest, I blame Halsey for this. I have loved her since I heard Room 93 (and realized I was not straight, thanks Ashley), and I can pretty much recite every album she has front to back. So when I saw them work with BTS I figured, “okay, I guess I can get on board with this.” The best way I can describe it is that Simpsons meme where the kid goes “haha I’m in danger.” K-Pop fans have this theory that your “comfort group” comes to you when you’re ready and I don’t know how they hit the nail on the head but they’re not wrong. I didn’t have an ideal college experience whatsoever, I had a lot of trouble making friends because I honestly didn’t talk to anyone (my own fault, I know). And yet somehow when I started listening to BTS, I made a whole community of friends on the internet and ended up meeting two of my best friends who just happened to walk into my job. If anyone has an existential explanation for all this please let me know before I go ask Namjoon myself.

Okay now that we’ve finished that, let’s get into songs. These are in no particular order, but I guess a common theme that I can attribute to them is power. Not to sound like a tyrant or anything; power to me comes in all forms. The power of love, strength, dominance, and happiness.

Is There Somewhere by Halsey (Room 93)

When I say I feel like I’ve grown up alongside Halsey, I’m not kidding. Not only was this song the prelude to my coming out, but seeing her artistry develop since 2015 has made me feel like a greater part of something. Too cheesy? Ok moving on.

Jasey Rae by All Time Low (Put Up or Shut Up)

This isn’t going to be the only All Time Low song on this list for sure, but it is one of my absolute favorites. If the last chance I got to hear it live was at the 10 year So Wrong It’s Right Anniversary in 2017, then I can die content. I maintain that All Time Low don’t have a bad song in their discography, but Put Up or Shut Up is such a big comfort album for me that I still get the same tingles that I felt when I listened to it at 15.

Don’t Lean on Me by The Amity Affliction (Let the Ocean Take Me)

The Amity Affliction is another one of those bands that marks a really crucial point in my life when I had to reconcile with my mental health. Not to get super emo or anything, but having every single emotion and painful feeling laid out (or screamed out, thank you Joel) soothes the numbness that I had accepted for my pain. Honestly, you could put this song on and I would still scream “LET THE OCEAN TAKE ME” at the top of my lungs like I did at Warped Tour in 2018.

Going to Hell by The Pretty Reckless (Going to Hell)

I’m sure having The Pretty Reckless on this list surprises absolutely noone, but I really think that this album threw me into full blown feminist rage. I have never been one to dilute my feminism to make men more comfortable, but after seeing Taylor Momsen clad in leather singing in front of a band of all guys and commanding all the attention in the room (not to mention her VOICE) - I just wanted to be as badass and confident as her.

Breed by Nirvana (Nevermind)

Is anyone surprised that Nirvana also made the list? Another moment of feminist rage. Have you ever had a guy interrogate you about a band or show or literally anything that non-men enjoy because he thinks there is no way you could possibly REALLY enjoy it? Yeah, I got that a lot in high school. And still now as a grown ass woman but that’s not the point here. I watched a lot of music documentaries during my last two years of high school, mainly about the 80’s and 90’s and the evolution of grunge, hence fueling my love for documentaries even more. And as always, girls cannot seem to like anything without being scrutinized for it so my interest in Nirvana was met with a lot of “yeah but you don’t actually listen to them right?” So it seemed appropriate for my response to that to be to latch onto a song that literally starts with “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

Brick by Boring Brick by Paramore (Brand New Eyes)

Paramore also comes as no surprise here since I profess my love for miss Hayley on a daily basis. I could have picked any song from Paramore’s discography; they are the ultimate encompassment of comfort and happiness. But Brick by Boring Brick made (and still does make) me feel like running through a field in the rain wearing a torn up down and screaming at the top of my lungs.

Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low (So Wrong, It’s Right)

Ah yes, the song that shoots serotonin straight through my veins. The first time I ever saw All Time Low, I was lucky enough to be able to photograph them. And even with a camera strapped to my side, I did not hesitate to jump up and crowdsurf the second the show was coming to an end. I’ve flown to Florida, California, Arizona, and New Jersey and every single time Dear Maria comes on something just takes over the crowd. It’s one of the few times I have seriously felt like family around a bunch of complete strangers. Even when I lost my earring, got dropped straight on my back and passed around the same water bottle across like 50 people. (pre-COVID huh?) I think my favorite Dear Maria memory had to be the last All Time Low concert I went to in December 2020. I was crowdsurfing at the same time another girl got thrown up, and to make sure we didn’t crash into each other we instinctively reached for each other and held hands until we were both over the barricade. I don’t think any moment in live music has felt more precious to me than that. (Also the fact that everyone pointed out that it sounds like an anime intro just makes it even more fitting.)

Magic Shop by BTS (Love Yourself: Answer)

When I say that BTS inject love into their music, I mean this song in particular. After Map of the Soul: Persona came out in 2019, I spent the following weeks listening to their entire discography all the way back to 2013. As soon as Magic Shop came on, I burst into tears before I even got a chance to read the translation (I cried more after I read the translation too.) BTS have perfected the concept of a comfort song and Magic Shop is the perfect example of it. It feels as if for 4 minutes and 36 seconds, you are safe. Honestly though, I could probably throw every single BTS song into this list. They have brought me peace, reassurance, friendships and genuine happiness during a time that I least expected, but needed it the most.

#mary ragheb

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