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otonymous · 4 years

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A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part I: A Matter Of Convenience

Description: An extraordinary man arrives to shake up your ordinary life Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: robberies and mentions of firearms, physical violence, mild depictions of bodily injury, blood and masturbation, profanity Word Count: 1650 words (~8 mins of action, drama and the start of a slow burn 🔥) Author’s Notes: This multi-chapter fic is dedicated to the lovely @op-peccatori, one of the winners of my Follower Milestone Celebration! Thank you so much, Nana, for requesting a mafia AU story starring everyone’s favourite lavender-haired man 😆 This is actually my first time writing an AU fic, and the experience thus far has been incredibly eye-opening and lots of fun!

For this piece, I wanted to localize the AU to better fit the world of MLQC, so instead of using a traditional mafia setting, the events take place in the milieu of the triads and “black societies” that are more likely to be found in corresponding parts of the world. For those who are interested, Wikipedia has an incredibly comprehensive article on triads and organized crime.

This piece turned out to be much longer than I anticipated and is still ongoing as of the time of this post! That being said, I hope you’ll join me on this wild ride 😂 As always, wishing you all a very happy read 😊

Jump to Chapter(s): Two | Three | Four

“Put the money in the bag and no one gets hurt.”

A black duffel bag is thrust onto the counter before you, panels wide open like a gaping maw. You look up at the man in the bomber jacket and the only things you can process are:

One: his nostrils are flaring.

Two: why bother trying to be nondescript by dressing in all black if you’re going to leave your face uncovered during a robbery?

“I ain’t playin’ around, little girl. Put the goddamn money in the bag right now or else I’ll shoot—”

WHACK!

The man’s eyes widen in the split second before his face crumples, teeth yellowed and uneven protruding in an ugly grimace. His hand flies to his head, trying to stem the blood already streaking down his face when he collapses onto the counter, taking out a display of collectible miniature keychains next to the register as he does. They scatter, some rolling across the floor before being stopped by a pair of purple Chuck Taylors tapping out an impatient rhythm on the linoleum.

You look up from those sneakers in a daze, eyes following the silhouette of a pair of jeans so worn in places you doubted the rips and tears were purely for aesthetic purposes. And if you’d had to guess, you’d say that purple was your saviour’s favourite colour, given the lavender hair that fell over his eyes the moment he pulled back the hood of his sweatshirt, also in a shade of violet. His other hand — clad in a fingerless leather glove — gripped the skateboard that had just connected with the head of the would-be robber, still groaning before you.

Pop!

You startle at the sound, heart slowing only when you see the pink bubble deflating between the young man’s lips before the gum is pulled back by the tip of his tongue. And from where you stood — glued to the spot behind the counter — you swear you can detect the hint of cinnamon.

He crouches, picking up the gun that had slid out of the thief’s hand when he was unceremoniously hit from behind, and when he chuckles — the sound dangerous and cocksure — it ignites something deep within you.

“Tsk, tsk. Can’t very well go around robbing people with toys guns, now can you? Especially not on my turf. Piece of advice: don’t mess with Boss Li’s territory or else I’ll be doing more than just breaking your head the next time around. Don’t let me catch you here again.”

Letting out a pathetic whimper, the robber snatches the empty bag from the counter, running for the doors in such haste he almost trips over his own feet. The electronic refrains of the door chime still ring in your ears when you realize the man has already made his way to the beverage dispenser, one long finger pressing the Pepsi button before switching to Coke, both drinks mixing in the same paper cup.

Smoothly stepping over the mess on the floor, he places the drink on the counter right next to a smear of blood. Mind still reeling, your customer service instincts take over.

“H-hello. Just this?”

He nods, popping a purple straw through the plastic lid before fixing you with his amber eyes as he pays, a hint of a smirk on his face. And that is when it hits you that he is actually…actually…

…incredibly gorgeous.

An intense wave of heat washes over your face and you can’t help but look down. By the time you’ve worked up the courage to lift your head again, he is already at the door, merging with the dark night beyond. He throws up one hand in goodbye, not even bothering to look back when he says, “Relax. That guy won’t be bothering you again.”

You hear his skateboard hit the pavement, listen to it rolling away. Only when the sound completely fades do you remember to breathe.

There was a certain tranquility in working late-night shifts at the 24-hour convenience store — aisles empty save for the occasional customer breaking the monotony: high-strung lovers grabbing last-minute condoms and overworked salarymen buying the beer and discounted meals they subsisted on.

And though your coworkers complained bitterly about the graveyard shift, they were more than happy to pass them on to you, making up every excuse as to why they were unable to show up during those times. It was unnecessary, really. You didn’t mind it, even preferred the solitary calm it afforded.

Until now.

Your peace has been shattered, replaced by something that made your hands ball into nervous fists — fingers gripping at the hem of your polyester uniform and wondering for the first time ever whether blue stripes made you look ridiculous.

Because for the first time in a very long while, there was something, someone, to look forward to.

Night after night, it’s the same. Repeated glances at the clock above the magazine rack, your breath growing shallow to see it approach 1:30. Heart leaping into your throat to hear the automatic doors slide open followed by the scuff of purple sneakers, tracing a path through the store.

Since the night of that foiled robbery attempt a month ago, he has visited like clockwork and you still haven’t figured out how to remain calm. So you find contentment from behind the safety of the counter, watching the man with lavender hair — soft, even when lit beneath a harsh fluorescent glare as he stands at the drink dispenser, always filling a cup with Pepsi first, then Coke.

Only ever buying the same thing every time.

This strange ritual lasts all of ten minutes, fifteen at most. And it takes just as long after he leaves for the hairs of your body to cease standing on end, as if electrified by the intensity of his eyes on yours.

That gaze of molten gold stays with you even when you return home in the early morning hours, pulling blackout curtains across your window before falling into bed to pretend your hands were his: tracing the outline of your lips, caressing the swell of your breasts, dipping between your legs.

And when your breath falters in a quick succession of shudders, you wonder at your own sanity. Because in spite of your suspicions about the guy with the purple hair, the warning signs that pointed to his obvious involvement with the triads that extorted money from local businesses as ‘protection fees,’ you still couldn’t help but think about the man who visited you every night without fail.

“You’re hurt—”

“I-I’m fine. Just…just ring this up, will ya? I’m…in a rush…”

One arm crossed over his abdomen, he places the cup onto the counter as if it took all the concentration in the world — his efforts squandered anyways when his hand spasms at the last minute to send dark liquid sloshing over the lip. He hadn’t even bothered to put a lid on.

“…Emergency responders have just arrived on scene and are dealing with scores of injuries. Eyewitnesses describe what appears to have been a violent clash between rival gangs in a longstanding feud over contested territory. The police are seeking help from the public in locating several key suspects believed to have fled the scene. Please do not approach them under any circumstances as they are considered armed and dangerous…”

The news anchor’s face on the wall-mounted television is replaced by another: that of a youthful man with lavender hair and multiple piercings on his ears — challenge exuding from amber eyes. You scramble for the remote on the shelf behind you, mashing the power button until the screen goes black. And in the eerie silence that descends upon the store, all you can focus on is the laboured breathing of the man slouched before you.

Skin pale, beads of sweat dot a face drained of colour save for the crimson protrusion above his left eye — soon set to transform, ironically, into his favourite shade of purple. He tries to suppress a cough but it is too late: you’ve already caught sight of the blood spreading out from beneath the palm pressed to his stomach.

“It’s on me tonight.”

The words leave your lips without second thought as you make for the storefront, flipping the light switch even as you reach to turn the lock on the automatic doors.

“No, don’t…don’t get yourself involved…”

Ignoring his protests, you gingerly place his arm over your shoulder, doing your best to support his weight as you make an awkward attempt to hobble together towards the back of the store.

Suddenly, the darkened interior is lit by flashes of red and blue and you are pulled in the direction of the nearest pillar, a strong arm flexed as it tenses around your waist, holding you to him in an intimate embrace.

He is close…so close that your senses are flooded with him: the heartbeat thunderous in your ear, leather and sweat tickling your nostrils; the scent of blood thick enough you can almost taste it on your tongue. The hand on your hip — grip firm in a way it almost seemed possessive, and you are ashamed to find that you can become aroused even in a situation like this.

When you finally gather the courage to look up at his face — seeking a sign in the tension dissolving from the firm set of his jaw that the police cruiser had passed — you are shocked to see his pale lips stretched into a smirk instead.

“You know...I’ve been coming here every day…for weeks now…and this is the most you’ve ever said to me.”

He is still smiling when he passes out.

Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all enjoyed it and please stay tuned for part 2! Check out more of my work here! 📚

(Updated): Jump to Chapter(s): Two | Three | Four

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc smut #mlqc shaw smut #mlqc fic #follower milestone #op-peccatori #my writing #multi-chapter fic

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spinchip · 4 years

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As in Lonesome South

Summary: After returning to Ninjago from that Lighthouse prison, Dr. Julien decides it's time for him and his son to move on.

Warnings: Dr. Julien is not a good dad. Memory alteration and Controlling behavior. ask to tag? Pairing: gen Wordcount:1700 A/N: The name for this fic comes from Hillbilly Man by Gorillaz lol

Packing up his meager room is not a difficult feat, Dr. Julien is glad to note, even in his advanced age. He doesn’t have many belongings now, his life spread out across Ninjago and across the sea, the things left behind and abandoned worthless in his eyes now that he’s been reunited with his son. His greatest creation. It’s not as if he couldn’t stop by that ancient bunker out in Birchwood Forest and gather up his old blueprints, maybe pick up projects left half-finished as his hands wrinkled and gave out, but there’s a clean and simple sort of appeal to a fresh start. Out with the old, in with the new. He had time to start again now. He and Zane could travel down to the outskirts of Metalonia, there’s raw materials there, new construction. Its growing fast with the upcoming tech giant Borg Industries basing it’s manufacturing plants in the heart of the city. It’s an easy place to get lost in, an old man and his son blending in with the crowd, a perfect spot to camp out at and get back to work inventing something new. Something to show up all those slip-shod messes he’d slapped together to appease Samukai.

In a way though, he can’t help but be grateful to the skulkin and his cronies. Without the elixir of life they’d handed him, without the resurrection tea poured down his throat, he’d have been lost years ago. The gift they’d given him had come with a price, seasons passing wondering if his son was safe out in the world without him, stuck up in that lighthouse tinkering away at inventions he felt no passion for. All alone except for the silly little bots he cooked up in his spare time. Now thought, free from the sea salt and stone, he had time laid ahead and a million projects he thought he’d never have the years for suddenly at his fingertips. Zane was his life’s work, and he’d turned out wonderfully. What could he do now, with another life to dedicate?

Organizing his meager things, he pulls out a duffle bag from the School's storage with DARKLEYS slapped on the side, not quite dusty but on its way there with the rebranding they were undergoing. Gutting the School’s unsavory past and installing a new, more healthy learning environment was a big endeavor for the ninja, especially since they wouldn’t be able to rely on his son to help pull it off. He and Zane pitched in when they could, helping repaint, clean up, and discuss a new curriculum, but it was a shame they’d never get to see it come to fruition. It reminded him of his days teaching to pay the bills while he chased his masters degree, there was a comforting nostalgia he almost didn’t want to leave. A shame it was time to go. Zane might have been a good teacher, too, if given the chance- he was as smart as his old man sometimes! Remarkably patient too, always willing to try and talk it out and find the best in people. Too bad. Maybe they could come back and visit, if work didn’t get too busy. He wouldn’t mind getting into the swing of things and whipping up a lecture for the kiddos. He could decide all that later, though. Now it was time to pack. He shakes out the bag and stacks his items neatly inside: a few notebooks of ideas he’d already cooked up, spare clothes Zane and Sensei Wu had graciously paid for, a few old books from the Library he was positive no one would miss. He was even sure to grab a copy of Zanes old favorites, maybe he’d like to read them again when they got settled. He made a mental note to grab his toothbrush and comb from the bathroom before they departed, puttering about his meager living accommodations to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

The room itself was a modest little thing, an old student live-in dorm repurposed into more permanent lodging for himself and Zanes other team members. They were nice, a bit more long-term than he thinks Master Wu is willing to admit, but Dr. Julien found them quite cosy. Though anything was a step up from that damp and dreary prison he’d been locked in. He’d always loved the beach, but if he never smelled salt water ever again it’d be a blessing… He frowns, stepping over to the map spread out across his tiny desk, mapping out a possible route down to Metalonia. Sticking to the outskirts would take them closer to the coast, but setting up shop in town might bring unwanted attention. It could be worth it to take the longer route along the east if he really wanted to avoid the sea… it’d put him close to Ignacia, but it might work.

There’s a knock on the door, bright and sharp, and Dr. Julien isn’t surprised when he hurries over and opens the door to his son on the other side, “Zane!” He greets warmly, ignoring the troubled look on his face and pulling him into an embrace, “Have you finished packing yet?” He asks, breaking away.

“That is what I came to speak to you about.” Zane says hesitantly as his father begins to tidy up the room, closing the door behind him for privacy despite the others doing their best to give them space and clearing out for this conversation, “Father, we have discussed this, I…” He frowns openly, “I do not wish to leave.”

Julien stops where he’s folding up his map, staring up at his son with a scrutinizing look, “Zane, I thought you said you didn’t want to be separated from me again? Are you feeling alright, son? Come here, let me check.” He beckons Zane over as he tucks the map into his coat pocket, moving out of the way so he can sit on the edge of the mattress for a diagnostic.

Zane obliges on instinct alone, sitting down, “I am fine, Father,” He says, moving his gi aside to open his chest panel anyway, “And I do not want to be apart, which is why I think you should stay.” Dr. Julien moves to sit next to his son, running a quick inspection of Zanes internal wiring as he speaks, and Zane zeroes in on the way he collapses onto the bed- his knees aren’t what they used to be, “At your age, you shouldn’t be traveling anyways.” He says, obviously trying to be gentle.

Dr. Julien laughs, smiling up at his son as he shifts through the mechanics in a confident routine so familiar it came second nature, memories of them going through these exact motions surfacing faintly, “You don’t need to worry about me, Zane, I have plenty of time left. The ressurectea has given me another lifetime, and I want to spend it with you. It could be like it was before, just the two of us. I was happy.” He examines the connection points on his switchboard, making sure they’re all attached properly, “Weren’t you?”

“Of course!” Zane says instantly, cupping his father's hands to send the confirmation home, “I love you, and I’ve missed you ever since I got my memories back.”

“But now you want to go our separate ways?” He squeezes Zanes fingers, before letting go, going back to his ministrations inside his chest to distract himself, “You and I are family, Zane. I’m disappointed you want me to spend my final years alone.”

Zane shrinks, curling in on himself at those words. Dr. Julien has to hold onto the door of his chest panelling so he won’t pull away too far, where he can’t complete his check-up, “I don’t. I am sorry.”

“Come with me.” He insists, smiling up at Zane as if to say all will be forgiven. They would be, these moments of hesitance. He could let them go.

The checkup is comfortingly familiar, but Zane shakes his head, “My friends are here, they are my family too. I cannot leave- I have responsibilities. I am the white ninja, I am protecting people who cannot protect themselves. Is that not what you wanted?” his vocal processor goes small at the end, soft and uncertain.

“It is, and you’ve done a great job. I’m so proud of you, but now it is time for us to move on to better things… You’re my son, Zane. My greatest creation. I love you, and I won’t leave here without you.” Dr. Julien trains his eyes on his inner workings, his hands stilling, a slight nod as a silent decision is made.

“And I am not leaving.” He says firmly, his own decision giving his words strength, then, “Will you stay?” Zane’s voice has the slightest hint of hope, complex emotions coming so easily now that he’s lived a long and complex life. A shame to lose all that progress.

He sighs deeply, a sad put-upon thing, “No, Zane.” and there’s no need to elaborate.

He watches his facial expression as he does it, half a second of shock and raw hurt, a snap of devastation and fear before his mechanics register that the memory switch has been flipped, the click of it near deafening in the room- the expression vanishes, his wide eyes go glassy and half-lidded and his jaw clenches shut, his body locking and freezing as he goes into limbo. Shoulder stiffly casual, his hands dropping into his lap where they’d made a last-ditch attempt to stop this and stalling short, sitting open and useless on his thighs. All at once his humanity is stripped from him, leaving him a blank canvas, empty and waiting for either a reboot or specific command. He was his son. He was his creation. He was his.

Dr. Julien closes up his chest panel calmly, tying his suit back up properly. He’d need new clothes, these would make him ask questions when he reset him. Dr. Julien didn’t want questions. He didn’t want refusals.

“Come now, Zane.” He says, tapping the nindroid on his forehead, watching those hazy eyes try to focus while in forced stasis. There’s nothing behind his eyes, no recognition other than the need to obey that has been programmed into him, “Follow me. It’s time for us to go.”

Zane carries his bag as they walk right out the front door.

#zane julien #dr. julien #ninjago #spinchip fic #memory alteration

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indigosprite · 3 years

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Chrome Callout post.

relax this is just my love hate relationship with chromes writing and potential. spoiler, it ends with all the love... hate is only in the middle.

My absolute favorite thing in fanfics is Chromes characterization. Like we all know Chrome is completely aware that Mukuro and co need a reoccurring dose of Valium and a therapist willing to do illegal things in order to lower their sadistic points to ”kind of disturbing but tolerable”. Or at least we hope she does even though she proves to us again and again that she’s not phased by it in the slightest and might actually be just as bad. TYL and she’s still running around helping them do god knows what. She follows them on this massacre pridefully, she “believes in” them ( its sweet actually. They’re what she thinks of when Mukuro asks what she believes in and makes a young kokuyo gang.)

In fanfics when people write her to be a double edge sword it’s hilarious, and it should’ve been the character depicted in the Anime and manga instead. But I guess if she hadn’t been the quiet, breathy & compliant 14 year old people wouldn’t have morphed her into the fanon I enjoy now. Here’s some stuff i love and HC abt Chrome and the things I absolutely hated.

1. When she actually speaks not just when spoken to. She voices her concerns although she has no intent of not doing what’s asked of her. Who knew she could speak and still be the obedient gang member Mukuro trusts her to be. And when she does this it’s funny. She is the conscience he buries underneath disgust and amusement for chaos, but that’s not her entire character. She’s not reduced to the mom friend either because of this, she’s too passive on the matter. She indulges/Enables it just the same as Chikusa or Ken, although she knows better meanwhile the thought never occurs to them. To summarize :

she’s Brian

2. She’s unhinged and the best part is nobody knows even though it’s blatantly obvious. She may not have the same bloodlust or violent disposition as her peers but there are other ways to showcase this. To Allow Mukuro the leader of this little fearsome Five-some to possess you whenever he feels like and witness whatever horrors he decides to inflict upon someone that day means she’s accepting of literally everything he does. She never resists or expresses distaste/fear for him or anything he does. We assume she would in some capacity because she was depicted as this wide eyed innocent girl trying her best to repay the man that got her to join a gang under the guise of a found family. She quite literally signed up for guts n glory. She knew this and never had second thoughts. Mind you she doesn’t share the same hatred for the mafia as the boys, theirs is blind hatred regardless of who you are. Hers is through them, they are her looking glass rightfully so, so if they say it then their word is law. I’m not sure about you but I would definitely be mindful of the girl who was raised semi normal and willingly turned into a killer for Mukuro of all people. They’re killing adults not shaking them up, they aren’t Tsuna and his friends they finish the job when necessary. The body count is unimaginable. She is just as loyal as Ken and Chikusa and would probably strike you where you stand for speaking ill of him. (She wouldn’t but would definitely be opposed to whatever you’re saying, unless it’s name calling. He takes no offense to that and welcomes it in fact.)

3. The fact that she’s a person apart from Mukuro (physically speaking.) and the Vongola team at all is a blessing in few fics. Although she was made to stand in for Mukuro, when he is released it’s not necessary hence him pushing her to be apart from him and his duties. He did this in the future as well when he possessed Guidio Greco no longer using chrome which lets us know she was successful in becoming a useful comrade and not just a vessel and vongola stand in. She had to otherwise he would’ve left her alone whether she was keeping his Vongola ring warm or not. She is just as aloof as Hibari, always off with her own people only engaging when it’s asked of her. I adore when people keep that in mind and don’t lump her with following behind the vongola as if she were one of them. She shows up for them when asked but her main focus is ultimately committing felonies with Ken and Chikusa per Mukuro’s orders. let her be with the kokuyo gang and let her contribute in the way she’s meant to as a fighter. figure her out give her something cool

ik that’s hard considering what we got in the manga. warning things i hate ahead

what we got in the Anime and Manga:

so we know Chromes entire purpose was to be Rokudo Mukuro’s stand in, while holding the Vongola ring he soon takes back she is just the girl that is able to get him to come fight their battles when necessary. The Anime and Manga rarely let Chrome fend for herself. We all knew he was coming the second it got serious. By giving chrome that ring she ended up being the one thing to keep him loyal to his contract with being their guardian. If she’s in danger he comes and saves her, the Vongola put her in danger because he will show up and do his job it’s like a rat trap. She is not meant to be a Vongola guardian but more like a Mukuro whistle. They never openly admit it but in the show they will expect/ask her to do things that her track record doesn’t imply she can do and just silently expect Mukuro to show up like always. SKSJDWDN they’ll be like “oh yeah call the girl who passed out and all her organs disappeared I believe in her to do this job even though i’ve never seen her make it to the end of a fight ever not worried at all” sksksjjd They never actually expect chrome to do a job they expect her to go there and manage to get Mukuro to come out and play and we should acknowledge it was just an unspoken thing. Now I know that despite what I just implied about her not being that great a fighter but just good enough there are two comments made in all 400 chapters that are supposed to negate this.

Mammon says her illusions are powerful just not enough to fool him , and reborn says she could turn the tide if she were to fight against Mukuro but with confidence, these mean nothing to me because amano throws in so many useless comments like this and then fails to develop it further to make it believable. and she made powerful characters make note of this so it would be non negotiable and we would just take it at face value because its them but hello ?? ofc we want to see it just like we had to see Tsuna grow before we even considered taking him seriously. hell Dino got a quicker rise to his title than chrome bc its that easy to say oh he can come into his own when needed they just never meant to do it for chrome.

it’s so irritating when they try to say she’s powerful or could be but give no actual footing for anyone to take those comments seriously when they make her pass out for thirty chapters after doing the bare minimum.

let chrome win on her own not just start strong then step out of the way then have some character say “no really she could be powerful we aren’t going to show you though” .

when she helped them sneak in the base on her own and even makes those illusions of them fighting we should have gotten more of that!!!

literally every character is fighting the funeral wreaths and chrome is running in the woods out of breath...even Lambo got to fight.

you made her sit out of the rep battle to focus on making organs like that wasn’t something she already accomplished in the future and suddenly can’t do anymore ?.....

Chrome finally makes one fighting decision and its to make a mist forcefield that’s dangerous but hell yeah we think she will finally pull through with something powerful and prove herself and then they have mukuro come in a panel later saying “your flames are far too weak to do that I will make it better and help you not die” BYE that was a perfect time to have her come in to her own seeing as she was powerful and confident enough to initiate it in the first place.

breaking the barrier daemon spade makes * chefs kiss * give me more

when they’re not blindly robbing chrome of character development she’s just getting kidnapped, passing out or helping them with small things like making a fake Yamamoto for a party or sneaking in the base with illusions to disguise them. Hello she’s training under mukuro right ??? why did we ever get to see her get stronger each fight and have them say ‘she’s learning quick” instead.

enough abt what we got, back to what I’ve managed to make out of the scraps we were given..

4. Mukuro is the only one who reassures that she actually is a fighter and she eventually grows to be a good one bc of this and you should write about that dynamic and why it exists more. this one is long.

the whole dynamic I was referring to exploring is the one where Mukuro and chrome are meant to be equals. He meets this girl whose been neglected and left for dead, another kid messed up by adults neglectful selfish behavior. she willingly follows the boy who is plagued by the same demons and made a small group dedicated to getting revenge for it. Mukuro & Chrome know they’re two sides of the same coin. he is anger and she is acceptance. He probably finds it amusing she isn’t as angry as them wants to draw it out of her where as chrome wants to pull out the peace that comes with moving on once you’re in a better place. the girl is so happy to not be near her mom and grateful for this little family while the boys are quite literally holding a grudge against the world. and like none of them even see it the way she does but she wants them to. Mukuro and chrome didn’t go through the same things but it doesn’t matter to either of them because its the same story, nobody loved or valued them enough to protect them. In the end chrome will learn to be angry abt things that happen and use that to find a will to fight for something and Mukuro will learn to be at peace because they’re not in that lab anymore and those people are gone from their life. as fighters they’re so important to each others balance Mukuro’s rage cannot be left to be so blind and hers unattended and i know it’s supposed to be Tsuna that cleans his soul but i think chrome definitely plays a more active role in that. I think he sees a better him in her, he makes her his second gives her his name because she’s the good he knows he can never fully be. she posses a peace he’s not hopeful enough to believe he can achieve or want and ultimately it will make her far more capable of the change he wants. in believing this it means he also believes she will be just as powerful as him with the right training. he’s literally training his demise and her name is Chrome. he wont take over a (mafia) world he wants her to save. we all know he’s like annoyingly stupid when it comes to showing his emotions, he rather pretend he’s sending you to die when he’s quite literally ushering you to what he thinks is safe and sacrificing himself. so I can totally see him being like “okay Tsuna might really change the mafia and I want to see that but I've already dug my own grave here's a better newer me that will be way easier to accept than me turning over a new leaf 40 dead families later.”

5. in the future Hibari is much more happy to help and be around because he knows what a powerful fighter Tsuna turns out to be, i think this is the exact same reason why he goes and helps chrome save herself. Kyoya knows and possibly even respects future chrome enough to save her when she’s at her weakest which he usually detests. Chrome grows to be much more in the future and that’s exactly why he even gives this sick chrome a push. everyone likes to think it’s a Mukuro thing for him but what if it actually is a chrome thing. in the show he’s never been present to witness her show any kind of power so we can only assume that at some point he saw her in action.

6. it’s implied in the future that Mukuro fights alongside her, he views her as more than just a vessel and doesn’t baby her in the slightest when he pushes her to become her own being. I won’t call it respect per say but he doesn’t look at her as a doll even though that’s the part she played for him. He still trains her the way he eventually does Fran. We all know he just wants Mini Mukuros to aid him in his endeavors but the fact that he chooses her says a lot about how she’s meant to be viewed. He also chooses a nine year old brat with an apple hat but hey he must see something everyone else doesn’t until he’s done with them seeing as Fran was kidnapped by the freaking Varia once Mukuro’s teachings were for the most part implemented. “Oh you learned under Mukuro ? We can’t have Mukuro you need to join us immediately” (I’ve just realized Mukuro gave the vongola their strongest mist guardians all while claiming to hate them. Funny man). imagine how powerful Chrome gets, even better when Mukuro is actually there in the flesh to teach her where as Fran got some illusionary version of him. WRITE ABOUT IT.

7. for the love of god give that girl her own fighting style. yamamoto has his sword gokudera is literally baby genius ryohei is a boxer and hibari has like the most random weapon ever. go crazy. i love it when chrome isn’t pulling a trident from her bag. because she’s not mukuro anymore. she’s a reticent mist guardian, compliment that. Mukuros trident has his own history with him. give her some history of her own.

in my fic Chrome uses a scythe and tears through reality with it.

reason: because she is a grim reaper in her own right. she rose from the dead and is showing up to collect the souls of the wicked. a silent but fearsome person.

her style ? : personally I like to believe chrome dabbles in profiling, hear me out. Her parents were neglectful and in turn she really has little experience with relationships in general, i think her curiosity would lead her to constantly study peoples relationships and behaviors and see how they affect her target. aka she fights by showing up getting in your head and haunting you with your own past because even if they see through it damn what a nasty wound or insecurity to bring up in the form of a hell loop illusion. this also ties into her being Mukuro 2.0 he’s known to just be eerily in the know of everything going on even when he’s not there. this would be a great way of her matching that aspect of him and possibly surpassing it.

#THIS WAS SO LONG #But worth it #im so excited about writing chrome rn thanks for letting me rant #fic talk #chrome dokuro #khr #khr headcanons #SpriteLand #SpriteRot

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0blivion-laughs · 3 years

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Francis Bacon

https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-francis-bacon

https://www.francis-bacon.com/artFrom a small London studio littered ankle-deep with source material, bottles of fine champagne, and a cacophony of paint splatters, Francis Bacon conjured some of the most innovative and, as art critic Robert Melville once put it, “satanically influential” paintings of the 20th century. His canvases writhe with fleshy, screaming, contorted figures, from popes and famed art-historical subjects to friends and ill-fated lovers. His searing work embodies a host of post-war cultural anxieties, as well as Bacon’s personal demons and obsessions.

But what was this mighty, enigmatic painter’s secret to creating such spellbinding imagery—and, all the while, upholding his status as king of the bon vivants? Below, we pull back the curtain on who Bacon was, what motivated his deeply affecting paintings, and why their sulfurous power won’t be fading anytime soon.

Who Was Francis Bacon?

Bacon was a complex man whose work was informed by a tangled web of intense relationships, art-historical fixations, and a fair number of vices. Born in Dublin in 1909 to a domineering father, Capt. Anthony Edward Mortimer, and his much younger wife, Christina Winifred Firth, Bacon was derided as a “weakling” and, as legend has it, horse-whipped by his father during his youth due to issues with chronic asthma. At 17, he was kicked out of the family home for good when he was discovered trying on his mother’s underwear.

Francis Bacon Three Studies for Self-Portrait, 1976 Richard Gray Gallery

But despite (or perhaps because of) his asthmatic bouts and the abuse he endured, Bacon was strong-willed and resilient, with the constitution of a bull. He drank, ate, gambled, loved, and painted with such voraciousness that he rarely had time for sleep; two to three hours a night was typical. Through this haze of debauchery and hard living, and bolstered by deep friendships and aesthetic obsessions, Bacon produced a cascade of paintings that were not only disturbingly beautiful, but also boldly original. His shocking work galvanized the group of painters surrounding him in mid-century London (the “School of London”) and eventually influenced several generations of artists to come, includingDamien Hirst, Jenny Saville, and Jake and Dinos Chapman, to name just a few. What Inspired Him? After Bacon was jettisoned from his family home, he embarked on a series of European escapades that opened his eyes to art and design, not to mention other earthly pleasures, like sex and wine. Several works he encountered during his travels made a lasting impact on his work and wouldn’t leave his mind until his death in 1992. While studying French near Chantilly in 1927, he happened upon Poussin ’sgreat Massacre of the Innocents (1628–29) and was struck by the emotional agony of the scene, embodied forcefully in the screaming maw of a mother whose child is about to be killed. Later that year, he picked up a book detailing diseases of the mouth, and not long after that, he watched Sergei Eisenstein’s 1925 film Battleship Potemkin, which features a scene of a howling, bloodied nurse—an image permanently tattooed on his mind. Around that time, on a trip to Paris, he was also introduced to Picasso ’searly figurative drawings. All these run-ins provided Bacon with his initial art education (he was never formally trained) and went on to influence his unique approach to rendering the human body as a malleable—and, at times, grotesque—vessel of raw human feeling.

THREE STUDIES FOR FIGURES AT THE BASE OF A CRUCIFIXION 1944 Oil and pastel on fibreboard approx. Triptych: Each panel: 37 x 29 in. (94 x 74 cm) irregular

The wide-open mouth would later materialize in some of the painter’s greatest canvases: his series of wailing popes, which he toiled over from 1949 until 1971. They show blurred, bethroned men caught in the act of an intense and seemingly eternal scream that, as Bacon biographer Michael Peppiatt has said, might have referred simultaneously to the militaristic orders of Bacon’s father, the raging rows between Bacon and his tortured lover Peter Lacy, or more simply, to a cry of fear or the climax of a body-quaking orgasm. This was the rare power of Bacon’s work: fusing a range of references into a Frankenstein’s monster of a whole, a beast shuddering with frustration, tension, and countless other, subtler emotions.

Bacon’s “Popes” also reveal another influence: Velázquez ’s Portrait of Pope Innocent X (1650), a painting Bacon became so infatuated with that he admitted to having a “crush” on it. Time and time again, Bacon would rework his own version of the masterpiece, although, interestingly, he refused to see the painting in person when he finally made a trip to Rome. He was embarrassed, he told Peppiatt, of his many “stupid” manipulations of the piece.

Alongside the many other great artists (Giacometti, Van Gogh, and Matisse among them) who influenced Bacon, the painter also looked for creative guidance in the work of writers and poets—namely Racine, Baudelaire, and Proust. He was attracted to their ability to pare down the complexities of human existence into succinct lines and phrases; he sought to do the same with the arresting figures rooted at the core of his canvases.

THREE STUDIES FOR A CRUCIFIXION 1962 Oil on canvas Triptych: Each panel: 78 x 57 in. (198.1 x 144.8 cm)

How Did He Work?

Reproductions of Bacon’s inspirations—like the Massacre of the Innocents, along with tattered photos of wild animals, Egyptian talismans, and more—ended up in a soupy jumble on the floors of the many studios he occupied over the course of his career. The exuberant mess was accented with paint and the occasional vestiges of parties he hosted after a long night of carousing through London’s drinking clubs and gambling houses. One of Bacon’s friends, the painter Graham Sutherland , once described Bacon’s early Cromwell Place studio as “a large chaotic place, where the salad bowl was likely to have paint on it and the painting to have salad dressing on it.” But for all his decadence, Bacon was also extremely dedicated, with his own brand of regimentation. “You have to be disciplined in everything, even in frivolity,” he was known to have said. “Above all in frivolity.” Indeed, his passion for enthusiastic and prolonged socialization seemed to fuel his work. Without fail, after a late night of partying, he would wake up at 6 a.m. to paint for several hours in the morning light. Then he’d begin dining and boozing about town, liaising with his many friends and acquaintances, from fellow painters Lucian Freud and Frank Auerbach to renowned London collectors, such as the Sainsbury’s, to one of his many lovers, like Lacy or Eric Hall. He even went so far as to say that he worked better after a night of drinking: “My mind simply crackles with electricity after one of those evenings,” he once boasted to his friends. “I think the drink actually makes me freer.”

THREE FIGURES AND PORTRAIT 1975 Oil, pastel, alkyd paint and sand on canvas 78 x 58 in. (198.1 x 147.3 cm)

There were some risks to this routine, however. On several occasions, he’d come home late at night, wildly drunk, and decide to “perfect” a painting he’d finished the day before, only to wake up the next morning and discover that he’d ruined it. After one of these episodes, his gallery began collecting his paintings from his studio the moment he finished them.

Bacon’s childhood nanny, Jessie Lightfoot, who lived with the painter until her death in 1951, and his two primary dealers—first Erica Brausen at Hanover Gallery, then Valerie Beston at Marlborough Gallery—also played major roles in helping organize his life and career. When Bacon was struggling financially during his youth, Lightfoot helped him find lovers who would also provide financial support. Brausen became a close friend and confidante; they bonded over their shared homosexuality and appetites for risk-taking (Bacon’s on the canvas; Brausen’s on the walls of her gallery). And starting in 1958, Miss Beston, as she was affectionately called, arranged almost all of Bacon’s day-to-day logistics during his most successful years. She paid his bills, arranged his calendar, made sure his apartment stayed clean, and kept him to his painting schedule. She also kept his canvases out of the trash bin, as he was known to destroy them.

Why Does His Work Matter?

Bacon brought new emotional intensity to the painted figure by representing his subjects—be they friends or mythological figures—as contorted, fleshy, emotionally open masses. He sought to reveal, in all its complexity, what was behind the human facade. “I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail leaving its trail of the human presence…as a snail leaves its slime,” he once said. Indeed, Bacon’s paintings pulsate with the dual energy of human suffering and ecstasy. They seem to unearth, in their blurred limbs and wide-open mouths, our most primal urges. (Scholars have noted that in his canvases from the 1950s, monkeys and men often closely resemble one another.)

Francis Bacon

Triptych – August 1972, 1989 Marlborough Gallery

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love-takes-work · 5 years

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The Tale of Steven - Outline & Review

The Tale of Steven is a wonderful, timeless-feeling storybook about identity, authority, and finding your own way. It's got an innovative design that requires the reader to turn the book upside-down, sideways, and right-side-up to get the whole story, sometimes all on the same spread of art and text, and as we come to find out ultimately, this "tale of Steven" really is STEVEN'S story.

We begin with White Diamond, matriarch of the Gem homeworld, setting the stage--and not only does she frame the other Diamonds uncharitably (especially the littlest Diamond, Pink), she even sets the tone by admonishing THE READER straight away, scolding us to turn the book her way to read her words. (We must turn the book upside-down to read her perspective. Very nice.)

As we listen to White Diamond tell us how ridiculous Pink Diamond is and frame her as "impossible to understand," we also see exactly why Pink felt driven to leave her home. White apparently appointed herself the authority on keeping Pink in her place, and we're treated to White's huge pale hands holding little Pink Diamond in her tiny pink throne, “right”-side-up. White's perspective is proper, and she is to be praised, you see, for understanding that Pink's desires and attributes are not worthwhile and need to be forced out of her. Pink is shown as having run away to Earth and reinventing herself as a new Gem: Rose Quartz. Suddenly, we are able to turn the book sideways and see what she's thinking too. (White does NOT approve.)

The Earth, where Rose Quartz is allowed to love herself and love her surroundings, is simultaneously called "grotesque" by White, and we're seeing the same planet through two sets of eyes. White sees Rose as "stubborn" and "absurd," while Rose just gives us an aside about not listening to White if we don't want to and giving us a choice to read the book her way. As Rose continues to depict rainbows and falling in love with a human--Greg Universe--White is getting angrier. She shrieks, "You're ruining my story!" Rose, rightly, replies, "This isn't your story."

Soon, Rose has bequeathed her Gem--the center of her being--to her half-human son, Steven, with the consequence of ceasing to be herself. Baby Steven appears with his father and Rose Quartz's three companions--Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl. White Diamond finally abandons trying to narrate this story, escaping with a vindictive comment and an attempt to frame Rose as simply Pink Diamond hiding "inside an unwitting creature." Rose's perspective expresses that she wanted her son to experience the love and acceptance she never received. And then, Steven's perspective pops onto the scene. We can now turn the book fully right-side-up to read his tale.

As the story slides fully into Steven's perspective, Rose's hopes for him still line up on the sides of the pages, longing for him to experience kindness, to never know the awfulness she went through on Homeworld, to never have to feel the criticism issued by the other Diamonds, and to be able to tell his own story one day. Steven reflects on Rose's influence on his life, how he's heard about her and the more truth he's discovered the more everything frightens him. There are many perspectives, he recognizes. Perhaps there is more than one way to read the story.

White's perspective, upside-down now, returns alongside all this. She suggests "Pink" has come crawling back to turn the world the "right" way again, and she's puzzled by Steven's appearance, but she's determined to rescue Pink from herself by separating Steven from his Gem. Meanwhile, Steven's been wondering what his relationship is to Pink and Rose--is she inside him? Is he actually her? What's real?

But they all learn the truth when Steven's Gem reveals that he was also Steven inside there. All along, he was himself and no one else. This is, and has always been, his story, and he has been right about who he is.

Several wordless frames depict Steven's two aspects finding each other, reconnecting, and becoming one again. Newly confident in who he is and having asserted as much in the face of crushing authority, Steven declares, "This way feels right to me." The orientation of the book AND the definition of himself are the focus here, and for the first time, White begins to consider that her perspective was the wrong side up in someone else's story.

Steven closes by claiming the book as his own (writing his own name in the "This Book Belongs To" space, which is superimposed over a Diamond Authority symbol with the Pink Diamond on top instead of on the bottom). The end dedication is made out "To Trans & Gender-Expansive Kids."

To reflect on this sentiment and the rest of the book, I will say that a large portion of the Steven Universe fandom already recognized some threads of a trans allegory in the animation this is based on. Steven, though he is not specifically depicted as a confirmed trans character in the show, does not demonstrate or seem to experience toxic masculinity in association with his quest to be powerful, and has no qualms about using symbolism, iconography, and apparel that is more commonly associated in today's Western society with women and girls (e.g., the color pink, flower symbolism, protective and defensive rather than aggressive and offensive behaviors, wearing jewelry and dresses occasionally without it being a gag). His assertion that he is Steven and not Pink Diamond or Rose Quartz has many parallels with a common trans narrative--including pronouns that the Diamonds refused to respect--even though it is also its own thing since human beings do not have to defend that they are not literally their mother.

They do, however, frequently struggle with authorities in their lives "correcting" them on who and what they are "for their own good," brushing off the seriousness of the misery it causes, and these children do find themselves forced to wear clothes, use names, and adhere to roles that do not match who they are. They even sometimes hear authorities mourn the "loss" of a different-gender version of them and accuse the child of being selfish for wanting to manifest their truth instead of being the son or daughter the parent thought they had.

It is my deepest hope that authorities like this can learn to turn the book around.

It is so important for children to learn that they ARE the authority on their identity, and while some well-meaning authorities in their lives may frame their identity as a phase or a fake, they do not have to accept this view of the world, or even that it comes from a loving place. White Diamond did not sound like a stern but caring figure to me. She sounded like a tyrant who is convinced of her own correctness, determined to gaslight and shame Pink Diamond into becoming the person SHE wanted. Love is listening. Love is nurturing. Love is seeing pleasure and pain and letting those things guide you in supporting a happy existence. Kids whose gender is complicated and young people who develop misunderstood identities need books like this to center them in their own stories and empower them to show others how to read their book.

Except for the section of the book where Steven's organic self and Gem self are separated and re-combine, the message is solid for readers who have not watched the show. But because of how important that wordless series of panels is and how much background you actually have to have to understand what's happening there, I recommend this book primarily for fans of the show who have seen "Change Your Mind" and the episodes that support it. The other depictions are more powerful and illuminating for those who have context from the show also, but the main purpose of the book can be readily understood without that background.

If you haven't seen the show, all you need to know is that Steven is a hybrid Gem/human who has a gemstone in his human body, and it gives him superhuman powers. Gem characters generate a body from their Gem, while Steven's body is organic and presumably NOT generated from the Gem. White Diamond removed Steven's Gem from his belly, expecting Pink Diamond to take form out of the Gem. She thought his organic half was just a human that the Gem was stuck in. But instead, a Pink Steven emerged and went back to his organic self to merge again, proving that he is Steven, not someone else, through and through. And he truly loves and knows himself.

A couple other notes fans of the show might enjoy: White Diamond's hypothesis that Pink Diamond was "hiding in an unwitting creature" is really interesting--she knew what Steven was but believed he was just a normal human hosting a Gem. Interesting. White's disdain toward Yellow and Blue for "spoiling" Pink is an interesting addition to what we know about her, too. Pink is pictured standing on her hands on her throne, upside-down, which is interesting since it's both "silly" and an expression of her right-side-up perspective (since, when we obey White, we're reading the book upside-down!). White's commentary that she kept Pink in line is also interesting, considering we've seen way more of how Yellow and Blue treated her and none of that was very nice either (yet they're the "nice" ones in this story, indulging her even though we know they abused her). There's a really cute image of Rose lounging on the beach with Greg in what looks like a swimsuit. Connie is in a frame with the Gems looking through a telescope. And there's a frame with Garnet holding pink and blue butterflies.

Inventive, beautiful, moving, and so necessary. Buy a copy. Let kids turn the book around.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

#steven universe #the tale of steven #long post #trans stories #su analysis #myblog

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clubcreative · 4 years

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Writing in Comic+Illustration

“A picture is worth a thousand words.” I have to admit that’s a pretty cliche starter, but it does help define what writing means in the art community.

One way to define “writing” is to call it a genre.

Genre 101

Before I continue, I want to make sure that you understand what I mean by genre. When I talk about genre I am simply referring to various forms something comes in. For music its different sounds like the genre of jazz or pop. In writing, a genre is a book or a shopping list. Hopefully that clears things up!

When I first began researching various writing genres in the art community I was confused because I thought I was looking for actual written texts like a research paper. Yes, there are the conventional forms of written genre within the art community like a blog, but turns out a genre in the art community simply refers to the art we create!

“I thought art didn’t have writing?”

Comics, manga, anime, ads, posters- those are all forms of genre in the art world. If you are still confused then just think about the different forms that you often see art as.

In our community, the purpose of these different genres vary between the mediums.

Some are for insiders (people who are artists themselves) some genres cater towards outsiders (people who are not artists, but consume and enjoy art).

As an artist, our main focus is to entertain others with the works of art we create. Because the nature of our job focuses on pleasing others, most genres of art are created to be consumed by outsiders.

To illustrate that let’s compare two different kinds of art projects.

Genre 1: Comic Book

SnotGirl by Bryan Lee O’Mallley/Leslie Hung

Who is it for?

Comic books come in various styles and not just what people typically think like the Marvel comics.

A comic book is written in order to entertain an outsider of the art community. That is not to say that artists do not enjoy comics as well, in fact I’ve included one of my favorites as the example!

Sometimes comics are a single page with multiple panels, and they can span multiple pages and volumes. Snot girl, for example, is currently on its 14th issue!

A comic is a very commonly produced genre. Typically, someone who writes a comic has multiple reasons to do so. Most of the artists have their own story to tell. They have created their own characters, their own world, and have a vision or lesson they want others to see as well.

What’s so special about it?

What’s great about a comic is that there is no right way to do it. Comic artists are tasked with balancing multiple parts of their project. They have to consider:

- the organization of the dialogue

-how they are going to lay out the images/ what geometric shapes the panels will be

-inclusion of sound effects

Don’t forget the art itself! The creator has to make sure they are:

- cohesive

-complete and dynamic illustrations

- they do not clash with the already established panel placement

-establish the tone and mood through colors and lighting

When Less = More

Comic books have the daunting task of developing their writing through narration and dialogue. Write too much and the reading becomes heavy and write too little and the author risks confusion.

Imagine condensing an entire essay into dialogue between characters with limited narration. Writing in comics is an art in-and-of itself.

While the writer of a comic and also be the artist, this isn’t a set rule. Sometimes the author and the illustrator are two separate people or teams!

SnotGirl as a comic book case study:

Volume 1, SnotGirl

Analyzing structure

The left page is split into three rectangles and the right page is broken down into multiple squares beside a near full body illustration of the main character, Lottie.

Lottie lives her life as an Instagram model and fashion influencer. The left page introduces us to the real Lottie, a side of her that is disgusting and unkept, snot drizzling out of her nose constantly. The right page shows her in public maintaining an idealized and aesthetic persona.

if you break a page into three sections that means more art needs to go into a single panel. In the middle rectangle her whole body is shown and the bottom panel is largely zoomed into her face. It’s nearly claustrophobic, showing Lottie’s overwhelming insecurities and having the reader up-close to a side of Lottie she wishes to ignore.

On the left page, the dialogue reads as frantic, narcissistic, Lottie is trying to convince herself that she doesn’t feel ugly and that she’s more superior than others.

On the right the multiple squares include more dialogue, space around Lottie, and more zoomed-out compositions (For example, you can see Lottie all the way down to her chest at least four times).

The squares reflect Lottie’s insecurities but they are the problems of her perfect persona: boy troubles, getting coffee, and Instagram profiles. There’s more writing on this page to reflect her more superficial ravings.

Analyzing illustration

Art wise, on the left the colors are grey, dark green or blue, and more cool-toned. In color theory cool tones portray sadder, more serious moods.

The right page which is vibrant and warm-toned, which is supposed to be energetic. If I were to ask you, you might be more attracted to the right side and its happier atmosphere.

These two pages illustrate how color, composition, and organization differ widely to emphasize how the artist wants the reader to feel and understand about the story.

Sounds complicated doesn’t it? The genre of comic books may be common, but it takes a lot of working, planning, and dedication.

Genre #2: Video Game Illustration

Illustration in game

illustration in full

Art by ZAVIR

Aren’t games 3D though?

I know that when most people think about video games the models and backgrounds are in 3-D. Think of Red Dead Redemption 2. While most mainstream games are produced that way, there are still many games who use illustrations like PC click-and-point games, mobile games, and other games use illustration for character sprites. The example I’ve included is from my favorite mobile rhythm game, Cytus II.

For those who don’t play Cytus II, the game revolves around different in-universe musicians who have different songs which the player taps the beat to. For each playable song there is an illustration. (Here’s a link to the hardest song in the game! “Floor is Lava”)

What’s the point of the art?

Most video game illustrators work in backgrounds or character sprites. The illustrations can be single items as well, clarifying items that a character may have picked up in game.

However, to stay relevant to my example I will mainly focus on the aspects of this particular video game illustration.

Cytus II as a case study:

The illustrations in Cytus 2 are meant to:

create further diversity between the different songs

provide the song with a visual outside of the beatmap

By providing the song Extinguisher by Lixound with artwork, it’s not only visually pleasing but adds memorability to the song. People who are fans of the game can now draw fanart of the song.

Differences from comics

there is very little text.

The story or context has to be told by the artist in composition, character pose, and other artistic choices like lighting or colors.

Particularly in Cytus 2, the story the artist tries to tell is set by the sound and “vibe” of the song.

“Extinguisher”, an EDM song, has fast beats and dubstep like qualities as well as a robotic vocal track. It’s chaotic and fast, which could explain why the artist interpreted explosions and a figure that looks like an anarchist.

Why Different Genres Exist: Comics vs Video Game Art

Imagine if a comic was told through dialogue-less illustrations and imagine if video games had backgrounds and illustrations that were formatted like comics.

Visual chaos would ensue. Clashing dialogue, images, colors, and a lack of clarity for what the viewer should be focusing on.

Thank goodness for the different genres of illustration, huh?

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supergirlfics · 5 years

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Powerful - Part 10

Brainy had managed to find information on the location. It was a remote facility belonging to an organization, called Agenda, dedicated to genetic testing and the creation of Metahumans.

“I don’t understand how we never knew about them before,” Alex said. “The job of the DEO is to know about organizations like this.”

“Do not punish yourself, Director Danvers,” Brainy said. “It would seem they were once affiliated with Project Cadmus. The DEO believed Cadmus and all affiliated parties had been disbanded. Mistakes are easy for humans to make. After all, you lack the deductive skills of Twelfth Level Intellects such as myself.”

“Brainy,” Dreamer said. “Not the time.”

“Of course. My apologies, Director Danvers.”

“Supergirl,” Alex said. “What do you see?”

Supergirl squinted, then shook her head. “Lead. I can’t see anything.”

“Crap,” Alex said. “Okay. New plan. We go in guns blazing. No mercy.”

“Maybe tone it down just a little, Alex,” Supergirl said. “We can show some mercy.”

“Mercy it is,” Dreamer said. “Sorry, Alex, but Supergirl’s my mentor.”

Supergirl kicked the door down. The heavy metal burst off its hinges in a flurry of dust and shrapnel.

They were in a large foyer that vaguely resembled the control room of the DEO. A dozen people scrambled to their feet, guns raised at the Super Friends.

Dreamer spread her palms, summoning two long chains with her dream energy. “It’s time you dream a little dream . . . of me.”

“That one was a little weird,” Supergirl whispered. “I wouldn’t use it again.”

“Really? Man, I thought it would be a hit.”

“Guys,” Alex said, just as several guns went off.

Supergirl spun around, throwing her cape in front of Alex. Dreamer thrust a hand forward, dream energy creating a shield that stopped the bullets mid-flight.

“Not today, boys,” Brainy said. He floated above them, flipped, and landed behind the first of the guards. With a sharp blow from the elbow, the guard was knocked unconscious. “Odds are ninety-five point three to four point seven we defeat you.”

Alex dove behind a desk, peering from it just long enough to get off a few shots.

Dreamer grabbed one, two guards with the chains. They were whipped against each other before crumpling against the concrete floor.

Supergirl approached several guards. She knocked out the first with a fist. The second grabbed her cape. She took hold of it and used the fabric to throw him to the ground. The third pointed his gun at her. “Go ahead and try.” His bullets bounced off harmlessly. Supergirl grabbed the gun and twisted it from his grip.

Alex battled with the last guard hand - to - hand. He threw her on the ground, but she easily regained the upper hand.

“Alex, look out,” Dreamer called. “Time to say nighty night.”

Alex shoeved the guard against the wall before flinging herself out of the way. With a burst of dream energy, the guard was thrust into unconsciousness.

The team made their way down a hall.

“Next time,” Alex said. “Save the chat for after we take down the bad guys.”

“Got it,” Dreamer said. “Fight, then talk.”

“We need to find Y/N,” Supergirl said. “This building is huge. Maybe we should split up.”

“You want to Scooby Doo this?” Dreamer asked. “Shaggy and Scooby always get the short end of the stick, and I have a feeling I’m Shaggy in this scenario.”

“Are you insinuating that I am a talking canine?” Brainy asked.

“Okay, fine,” Supergirl said. “We stick together.”

It was eerily quiet. Nobody seemed to be around. That was a bad sign. They checked room after empty room without a single sign of life.

“Maybe they knew we were coming,” Alex said. “It looks abandoned. They could have taken her and left.” Alex ran her fingers through her hair. She was trying to remain calm, but it seemed impossible to do. She still blamed herself for your disappearance.

“You guys go ahead,” Supergirl said. “Alex and I will catch up in you in a minute.”

“I let this happen. We lost our sister. I can’t believe I allowed this to happen.”

“Alex, I know how hard this is, but now is not the time You cannot let your feelings get in the way of your mission. Yes, it’s our sister. It’s personal. But that means it is even more important to keep a level head. We have no home of bringing her home if you aren’t thinking clearly. Pull it together, Alex. For Y/N.”

Alex hugged her sister tightly as she drew in a deep breath. Her sister was right. She needed to focus. Alex had never lost her head like this before, even when Kara was in danger. Then again, she always knew Kara could save herself. But you - you were her baby sister. Sometimes you still seemed like that wide-eyed little girl who attached herself to Alex - looked up to her for guidance and protection.

It killed Alex to think she’d failed that little girl. It killed not knowing where you were or what you’d been through.

“Guys,” Dreamer called, yanking Alex from her thoughts. “You should see this.”

Alex and Supergirl exchanged a look before running to the nearby room. There was a metal chair and a cabinet,, but it was otherwise empty. Drops of dried blood littered the ground and splattered against the chair.

“Is that -”

“Y/N’s?” Brainy asked. “Most certainly, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Alex said, rubbing a hand over her head. “What did they do to you?”

“And I found this,”Dreamer said, holding up a small device in each hand.

“Her wire,” Supergirl said.

“And a speaker. That’s how we found this. There was a recording of her voice.”

“May I?” Supergirl asked. Dreamer handed over the speaker and Supergirl clicked it on.

Who are you? Your voice echoed through the room. What do you want with me? Why am I here?

You tell me, fifty-eight forty-two. Why did you come? You could have stayed with that little family of yours. Ah, but perhaps you realized they are not your family, after all. You are, and always have been, mine, child.

I am not yours, you -

“Turn it off,” Alex said. “Supergirl, turn it off. Now.”

“So the heroes have come to save the day.”

They turned around to see a smug looking man in the doorway. His voice matched the one on the recording.

“Who are you?” Supergirl demanded.

“The name is Edward Noble. You have me to thank for . . . all of this,” He said, gesturing around the building.

“Where’s my sister?” Alex asked, raising her gun. Dreamer’s dream chains reappeared in her hands.

“Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you” Noble held up a remote control. “One flip of the switch and I can cause your baby sister unimaginable pain. Shall we try it?”

“You don’t want to do that.” Alex lowered her gun before elbowing Dreamer, who dropped the chains.

“Unfortunately for you, Alex Danvers, that’s exactly what I wish to do.” He flipped the switch.

Supergirl’s eyes widened. The sound of strained gasps had reached her ears. “Y/N’s here. She’s close. I can hear her.” She could hardly stand to hear the pain in your voice. “Stop! Please, you’re hurting her!” She took a step toward Edward Noble, but he raised his hand.

“I warned you. You see, Supergirl, I have the power here. Do you see this button? I press that and the girl dies.”

“No,” Alex said. “Don’t kill her. I - I’m begging you. Don’t kill my sister.”

“Subject fifty-eight forty-two is very important. I do not want to kill her, but force my hand and I will not hesitate.”

“Put it down,” Supergirl said. “We can work this out. You don’t need to hurt her.”

Edward Noble laughed. “So desperate. As I said, Supergirl, I hold the power.”

“Dreamer, now!”

Her current of dream energy sent Noble flying back against the wall. The remote clattered to the floor. Supergirl snatched it before approaching Noble. “Never underestimate an alien.” She punched him square in the nose and he went limp. “That was easy.”

“Let’s go get our sister,” Alex said.

As they sped down the hallway, a voice stopped them in their tracks. “Not so fast.”

“Seriously?” Supergirl asked. “Another one?”

The blond haired woman held a ball of crackling energy in each hand and wore an evil grin on her face. She screamed with rage. Ball after ball of lightning flew in their direction.

Alex groaned as one hit her. The electricity spread throughout her body, forcing her to her knees as she tried to ride through the pain.

Supergirl gasped when she was hit by several of them. They slowed her down enough that she could hardly make her way toward the woman.

Dreamer created a shield around herself as she prepared to attack.

Brainy easily dodged each of the projectiles, inching his way closer though a series of ducks and twists. He landed a punch to the side of her face. It was enough to knock her off balance, stopping the attacks. A dream chain caught her ankles and she was thrown to the floor. Supergirl moved toward the woman, but Alex beat her to it.

“Where is she?” Alex demanded. She pressed her knee against the woman’s back and pinning her arms behind her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman said.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Alex growled. “Tell me where my sister is or live to regret it.” She pulled one arm further behind her back and the woman whimpered in pain.

“West wing, third floor. There’s a hidden door. Find the fuse panel. You can open the door remotely from there.”

“Thank you,” Alex knocked the woman out before leading the charge to the third floor.

“There’s the box,” Dreamer said.

Brainy opened the box, his eyes scanning it for just a few seconds before he pressed a small button hidden between the fuses.

Nearby, a piece of wall slid into itself. It revealed a small, blindingly white room.

And there you were, back against the wall, knees pulled to your chest. Your eyes were sunken in, you had lost a considerable amount of weight, and there were more visible blood and bruises than actual flesh.

“Y/N,” Supergirl said. She knelt by your side, extending an arm to place it on your shoulder. “Are you okay? We’ve been so worried.”

You didn’t answer, didn’t react to her touch. You hadn’t so much as looked at her.

“Y/N?” Alex asked kneeling in front of you. “Can you talk to us? Please?”

But still, you stared straight ahead.

“I’m going to take this off,” Supergirl said. She grabbed the collar around your neck, and as she did, you gasped, eyes becoming wide with fear. She pulled it in half, and as soon as you were freed, the blank expression returned to your face.

“Let’s get you out of here, kiddo,” Alex said. “Supergirl, she needs medical attention right away. Take her - we’ll meet you back at the DEO.”

With a nod, Supergirl pulled you into her arms, where you hung limp and unmoving, and sped from the room.

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

Back at the DEO, the Super Friends and Lena gathered around your bedside. Alex’s hand ran through your hair as she watched your heart monitor. It had been nothing but steady, but she still worried that something could happen at any second.

Kara’s hand grasped yours. She held it tightly, as if she worried that if she let go, she would lose you all over again.

“She is doing very well physically,” Lena said. “Considering the circumstances, Y/N is in very good condition. Alex, Kara, your sister is very strong. She’ll be okay.” Lena grabbed Kara’s free hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“She wouldn’t talk,” Alex said. “She wouldn’t look at us. It’s like we weren’t there. I wish I knew what that -”

“She’s been through a major trauma,” Lena reminded. “We have no way of knowing what was done to her in that facility. The only thing we can do now is be there for her and allow her time to heal.”

“Thank you, Lena,” Kara said. Without letting go of your hand, she pulled Lena into a hug.

“I’m not leaving your side,” Alex whispered. “I’m right here. Always.”

“So am I,” Kara said, pulling away from Lena to look at your sleeping face.

“We all are,” Nia said. “Aren’t we?”

Brainy and Lena both piped up in agreement. They weren’t sure if you could hear them, but they were going to let you know how much they cared anyway.

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let-them-eat-rakes · 4 years

Text

RED REALITY (part 1)

(my longest post yet.)

Item #: SCP-3001

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: To prevent further accidental entries into SCP-3001, all Foundation reality-bending technology will be upgraded/modified with multiple newly developed safeguards to prevent Class-C "Broken Entry" Wormhole creation. While knowledge of SCP-3001 is available to personnel of any level should they wish to learn about it, research and experimentation with SCP-3001 and its associated technology is strictly limited to personnel of Level 3 and above, with special clearance designation granted from Sites 120, 121, 124, and 133.

Description: SCP-3001 is a hypothesized paradoxical parallel/pocket "non-dimension" accessible through the creation of a momentary Class-C "Broken Entry" Wormhole.(1) While believed to be an infinitely extending parallel universe, SCP-3001 is almost completely devoid of any matter and has an extremely low Hume Level of 0.032,(2) contradicting Kejel's Laws of Reality with the relation between Humes and spacetime. This phenomenon causes matter inside it to decay at an extremely low rate, and damage that would otherwise prove fatal does not impede any biological/electronic function; simulations suggest an organism can lose more than 70% of their body's tissue and still operate normally, as long as at least 40% of the brain remains. However, prolonged exposure will cause said matter to gradually approach SCP-3001's own Hume Level, resulting in severe tissue/structural damage as the matter's own Hume Field begins to disintegrate.

SCP-3001 was initially discovered on January 2, 2000, at Site-120, a facility dedicated to testing and containing reality-bending technology. Dr. Robert Scranton and his wife Dr. Anna Lang were Head Researchers at Site-120, and were developing an experimental device, called the "Lang-Scranton Stabilizer" (LSS).(3) Dr. Scranton was transported to SCP-3001 after unexpected seismic activity damaged several active LSS in Site-120 Reality Lab A.

Initially presumed dead, Dr. Scranton has survived in SCP-3001 for at least five years, 11 months, and 21 days. During this time, he was able to record his experiences and observations within SCP-3001 through a somehow still functioning LSS control panel, which was also brought into SCP-3001 with him through the Class-C "Broken Entry" Wormhole. These recordings were later recovered upon the panel's sudden return, an unexpected side effect from testing improved reality-bending technology; these logs are the basis of SCP-3001 study. Despite new technologies being developed, retrieval and re-integration of Dr. Scranton has been unsuccessful. His current physical and mental states, if he is still alive, are unknown. [Further information on Dr. Scranton's possible retrieval is under Ethics Committee review.] Transcripts of Dr. Scranton's logs are below.

[No discernible/coherent dialogue can be heard from Dr. Scranton for the first eight days. He cycles through periods of panic, confusion, and anger throughout, and it seems he was attempting to navigate SCP-3001 to find a way out. He finally moved close enough to the recording log on the eleventh day, though did not notice it was operating for several more hours.]

…

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Favorite song, "Living on a Prayer."

Wife… Anna…

Anna…

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Favorite song, "Living on a Prayer."

Wife, Anna. She has green eyes. I love her very much.

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Height, 178 cm.

Weight, 85 kg.

Wife, Anna. Anna, I'm sorry.

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

My wife's name is Anna. We got married August 12, 1991.

I hope she got out okay.

Please let her be all right, please let her be all right.

Robert, Scranton. 39. Anna, blue, wife. Please… please, God, please…

Anna… Anna… Anna bo banna… Anna bo banna…

What the… what the hell is that? [It is assumed at this point Dr. Scranton noticed the flashing light of the recording module.]

What the fuck, this thing's actually recording?

[Metallic clang heard.]

[Voice is highly agitated and panicked.] My name, is Robert Scranton. Yeah, yeah, my name, is Robert Scranton, former researcher at Foundation Site-120. It has been… I don't know, actually, I… I can't remember. I… I estimate it's been ten days, but, I-I-I don't, I can't… Oh God, can anyone hear me?! I-I-I don't know what's happened, I-I don't know where I am, and-and, please, please is anyone there?! Hello?! Anyone?! ANYONE?!

No one can hear me. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

Why the hell is this thing even working, it can't be working, it SHOULDN'T be working, so what the hell?! I need to — God, I need to, I need to… see, how… long can I talk here, I think there's a-a-a cap or something on the recording log, and I-I-I can't see anything, I can only see the red light blinking on and off, I can't see any of the switches next to it…

I'm really hungry.

Thirsty, too. I think I should be dead from dehydration by now, but… I don't know.

Hi, little red light. Can you talk to me? Can you talk to… Anna, for me? Hello?

I found the controls.

Two weeks, three days, forty-seven hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

Two weeks, three days, seven hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

Oh… Jesus.

ERROR WITH PLAYBACK, ERROR WITH PLAYBACK. ERROR WITH PLAYBACK.

Wherever the hell I am, I'm pretty sure now that… I don't need to eat to stay alive. It hurts… a lot, but… at this point I don't think I'm gonna die… So… I'm gonna… I'm gonna take my time… I guess. I… Maybe some sort of miracle will happen and I'll get out. Heh. Keep dreaming, Robert. Yeah, I'm… I'm tired, I'm gonna sleep.

Three weeks, four days, nineteen hours.

I have a picture of Anna in my pocket. I almost forgot. Little red light, let me see her face, please? Just a little bit, I just… I just want to see her a bit.

Hi, Anna, I'm still here, I'm still here. I'm coming back, okay?

Two months, four days, three hours.

… Hi. Robert here. Yeah, I-I haven't really recorded much to hear in the past few weeks. Ha. Hahahaha… Hahaha… huh… huh…

Sorry, gotta keep it together. Breathe.

I've been… I've been busy. Trying to learn more about the place I'm in. My prison. My kingdom all my own. Heh, King Robert. God, I stink. Is there even air in this goddamn place? Stinky King Robert, king of GODDAMN NOTHING FUCK.

…Sorry, sorry. I, I gotta keep this professional. I'll… I'll come back when I'm feeling rested.

… Okay, here goes. [Inhales then exhales deeply.]

My name is… Robert Scranton. I am a former Head Researcher of Site… 120, a Foundation facility dedicated to studying various reality-bending SCPs, for the purpose of developing more advanced countermeasures towards such threats.

For the last… red light, speak to me,

Two months, eight days, sixteen hours.

What red light said. I have been trapped in what I believe to be an empty pocket dimension. Alone. Yeah… alone. All alone.

I'm calling this place SCP… I don't know, I can't remember where we are, screw it. I don't know what's happened in the past… red light, please, again.

Two months, eight days, sixteen hours.

But… no one else is around to argue, and at this point… I'm just talking into this control panel to keep myself together. I… I need to keep a record. There might be some poor bastard in the future who ends up like me, and… if this ever actually makes it out… maybe, maybe I can help stop that from happening. That's all I have going for me right now, and I really need something to go for, hahahaha…

…So, yeah, Robert… Scranton… documenting a new SCP for… future research purposes. That'll have to do. Here we go!

- Close.

…

Two months, eleven days, ten hours.

Item number, SCP I don't fucking care.

Object Class, Euclid, I guess, but I don't know, I might update this in time. I need to explore more.

Special Containment Procedures, god I sound so much like a shrink right now… Um… I don't know if we could… contain wherever I am. It's… definitely not on Earth. To be honest I don't know where it is. I… I think it has do something with the Stabilizer prototype… I'll explain that more later. Okay… um… yeah, wherever I am, I don't think it can be contained much as… created. No, no, that's not the word I'm looking for. Um… entered. Yeah, entered is better. I came into this place because of some really bad reality-bending accident and… no, no, Robert, don't be like that yet, you don't know if there's no exit yet. Ooooh… livin' on a prayer… halfway… there. Ahem.

Two months, eleven days, eighteen hours.

So… wait, no, Description, Robert, stick to the format… This place… It's some sort of reality gap, I think. It's dark. Really dark. As in, this little red light that shows my words are actually being recorded is the only visible light in this entire place. I can't see my hands, and I can barely see the control panel here. I've had to basically use the light as a center, and remember how many steps I take and in which direction. I haven't gone past a hundred yet. I'm too… I'm too scared to. Heh. I wonder if my hair is turning white, right now? I can't even see what color it is anymore. Speaking of which, my head has been a bit itchy recently. If I don't concentrate on it, it's fine, but I feel this… tingling all over my face. I'm not sure why.

Two months, fifteen days, four hours.

Okay… hoooo… I-I need to relax for a minute, Jesus, god, shit. Holy… shit, shit, shit… I… just discovered a new property of this place. All this time, I've been thinking I might be walking on… some sort of… flat ground, if you will. I kept eye contact with little red as far as I could see, and it seems I could walk in a straight, flat path. Jesus, my head is buzzing right now, I think the adrenaline is still kicking… But, if my hypothesis is correct, and this really is some sort of reality… void, then there shouldn't be anything to walk on. Now that I think about, the whole time I've been in here, it's felt like… I'm walking, but I'm also swimming through something. And this something is thick, and form-fitting, it has this… pressure, which I know isn't the correct term, but goddamn it, this place makes no damn sense and I'm doing my best to understand it, okay?!

God… Sorry.

So, the best analogy I can come up with is… it's like I'm walking through really thick black gel. There's enough tension to keep me on a… "surface", but if I… imagine myself pressing down hard enough, I can descend. Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, I think… I think I need to test this more, I'll be back.

Two months, seventeen days, two hours.

Navigation is largely affected by… conscious impulses to travel in a certain direction. So, this definitely isn't a complete reality gap, at least according to mine and Anna's theories. If-if it were I wouldn't have been able to move at all, since space wouldn't have existed. Holy shit, okay, okay, this makes a lot more sense than it did before, great, great job, Robert, you're getting there. …Come to think of it, I should've realized that sooner when I was able to move in a flat plane to and from little red. It also explains why I'm not dead from dehydration or hunger yet, time barely passes in here. Okay yeah, so, I stood right next to little red, and went straight… "down." Okay, from here on out, imagine little red as the origin of a 3D space. I went straight… down, right, yeah, and then… and then I was then able to come back "up" to little red again. I've also been able to "fly" above red. Movement in here is slow, like I said, gel analogy, best I can describe it by.

Two months, twenty-two-days, three hours.

Reporting back for another update, red, SIR! Hahaha, come on red, lighten up. Ha! Pun not intended… Come on red, crack a little smile, it's funny!

…

… Fine, whatever. Ahem.

This place still seems like it barely follows Kejel's Laws of Reality Parameters. And by barely, I mean, really just barely. I'm pretty sure my math is right, but… hold on, I'm gonna check again…

Jesus. Yeah, yeah, pretty sure it's good still. Okay, this place… if we're using the standard Hume scale, I'm pretty sure I'm in a reality where the Hume Field is… point zero… four… ish. Yeah, really, really, really fucking low, so… Like I said above, space-time exists on a very minuscule scale, so my biology is not getting shot to hell and back because of any malnutrition, but that also means… I… I'm actually not sure what that also means…

…

Adding on from the last entry. I'm… I'm not sure how my biology will react in such a low Hume concentration, actually. I mostly worked with higher than average Hume Fields, and the reality benders we tested never had a Field lower than 0.8. This… this is gonna be a first. An all-time first. I remember Site-133's "Prommel Killer", they called it that because it broke the previous theory about the lowest limit of Hume concentration. Really expensive, really weird machine that brought down a small area to 0.4. 0.05 is… yeah.

I was lying. I was lying, last log… I… I'm lying to myself. My own body, and… little red here too… We're about the realest things in this place. And that means… over time… the Hume field's going to want to… equalize, and… I'm… I'm gonna go for now, I have some… some calculation to do again. Red, Anna, take note I'm using Kejel's Second, Third, and Fourth Laws, got it? Use… use 0.05 as the surrounding, my external field as… somewhere in between 1 and 1.4, use the Second Law's error estimation correction, and my internal as… as… as… shit. I'm not done yet.

I am real. I am super-real. Super duper real. Ultra real, the realest guy in a world of no-real.

You have no sense of humor as usual, red. I'm talking about the LSS, red. When we got sent here, I think… I think our reality got cranked up a notch. Red, didn't you pay attention in class? Hey, don't get fucking smart with me, red. Okay, the point is, the LSS surge got us up to… to…

Two months, eighteen days, seven hours.

No, red, not even fucking close, you must've converted Kejel's Third Law equation wrong. Because of the malfunctioning LSS we got blasted by, we're somewhere in between 2.2 and 3.6. Yes, that's good red, that's very good, because that means we have more time than we thought to… to… yes, red, before we fucking DIE, okay?!

Two months, twenty four days, five hours.

About three years. Four, if… If I don't interact too much. If… If I had had an LSS here, I could maybe stretch it out to… eight, maybe, that's best case scenario… But I have… I have to… I… know… but… but… three years. Three years, then it's past the point of no return. Ha. Hahahahaha. I should… I should definitely figure something out by then. I think I still should be pretty good for a while… At least… no, no, I won't be in here that long… I'll definitely figure something out…

Anna, what would we do with a case like this? I need your help, honey. That… that tingling I've been feeling… That's my Hume Field diffusing… My… my reality fading… Three years. I need to stabilize myself within three years.

I've been thinking… Anna and I, we had this theory… Even though the Hume Field is low, it's still a Hume Field. And precisely since it's so low, Hume diffusion should take quite a while. Now if… if I could… contain… recycle the fields, keep the diffusion from spreading too thin, I could… And I could also maybe… it's only a theory, but… It's worth a shot. But that means…

Hey, red. I… I'm gonna have to go for a bit. I want to test something, and you can't come with me. I… I'm sorry. No, no, red, I'm really, really sorry, I want you to come, I do, but… if we're together the diffusion will increase faster… We both need as much time as possible. I need to figure this place out more, and you need to make sure you keep all that info in your head. It's… red, come on. You- you'll be fine red, I know you will, you're tough. A lot tougher than me… it'll only be for a bit, red, but I need to see if I can find a way to keep us alive a bit longer. Maybe even get us out of here. If I can contain enough field, I can… I can maybe even get us out. No, no I'm not sure, but I need to find out. Red, we're talking about possibly escaping, okay? Yeah, it's a gap. A gap should have an end, like a… like the walls of a canyon, understand? I need to find a wall, and then, and then I can…

…

I'm sorry, red, I hope we're still friends when I come back.

…

I'm… I'm going now… I'll see you soon.

…

- Close.

Six months, ten days, five hours.

Hello again, little red. It's been a while.

You know… thinking back… I don't know what the hell I was so excited about. This place is… god, this place. This place is is fucking… hell.

There's no end. It just goes on. And on. And on.

I traveled in one goddamn direction for two, damn, months. God, I'm so fucking stupid, why did I think I could get out? I'm thinking like those old European shits that thought the end of the world was at the horizon. Fucking stupid, Robert, stupid, just-just- GAAAAAAAAAAAH—

If I let myself fall down long enough would I eventually hit a bottom?

Ten months, 28 days, 15 hours.

There's no bottom. And fuck you, red.

I'm sorry, red, don't go out, I'm sorry I turned you off, come back, come back, please—

… I turned 40 today. Happy birthday, Robert.

I was adopted, did you know that? Yeah, my parents left me in a box on the side of a street. Got picked up by some American couple, which explains my not-so-Chinese names. I don't even know my original last name. Just thought I'd share. How about you, red?

Anna and I met on-site in 1988. God she was beautiful. She still is. It was our eyes. She has beautiful eyes. My eyes are grey, they're boring, but hers… God they're beautiful. Do you think… Do you think she's still worried about me, little red? Is she looking for me?

You know, red, you're a great listener. But I never hear you talk about yourself. Come on, don't be shy, there's no one else around, right? Hahaha, right? Hahaha… hahahahaha…

"I'm sorry, Robert, I'm afraid I can't do that." Hahaha, red, you're hilarious.

Were you married? Kids? Any family at all? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Come on, red, I won't judge, just… talk to me, please. God, my head hurts. And my feet feel like they've been asleep for forever.

I worked at a comic store as a kid. So much cheaper back then, and I got free stuff at the end of each week. I liked Spiderman the best.

I was in a box, side of the street.

I… what the fuck… no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, red, have you seen my picture? The picture red, Anna's picture, where is - come on, come on, where-where- Anna! ANNA! ANNA! Where did - no, no, no, no, no, please, please no, anything but, PLEASE.

It's fading, she's fading, she's fading, please, Anna, no, please, come on, sweetie, stay here, it's too soon, it's TOO SOON, my math isn't wrong, it's NOT WRONG, YOU SHOULD BE FINE. ANNA, ANNA, I can't hold you, come back, Anna, sweetie, honey, Anna please, I need you, I need you, please, please, don't go, I'm here, I'm still here. RED GET HELP. Anna, please, please, don't go, don't -

Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. [Dr. Scranton repeats this for three hours.]

Anna and I got married in '91. We couldn't really get the nicest suit and dress we wanted because of work, but, damn, we both looked great. Anna looked better, of course. We just danced, and danced the whole night, got the whole week off. Even a job like mine lets you enjoy your honeymoon… So, come on red, open up, put 'er there, high five. Come on. Come on, red.

One year, two months, twenty-seven days.

…

AAAAAAA—

[The next recordings only play the control panel's automated voice giving times, with intervals of one to three days, with several month-long gaps in between as well; also intermixed are Dr. Scranton's sobbing, screaming, and mumbling. These recordings continue until the time reading reaches two years, seven months, and 28 days, after which they cease to pick up any sound until two months later.]

#scp #SCP 3001 #red reality #scp fandom #scp foundation #part 1 #posted from a pile of leaves #let them eat rakes

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segadores-y-soldados · 6 years

Text

Everything You Want to Know about Reaper and Soldier: 76

HAPPY REAPER76 DAY!!

In light of today’s news (and the chaos of Blizzcon), I figured a post on what we know about Reaper and Soldier: 76 is probably appropriate.

Please remember to reblog or retweet the original posts from Auttoton/Autolikescake! (here: http://auttoton.tumblr.com/post/167297655733/i-attended-a-panel-at-blizzard-tonight-with-jeff and here: https://twitter.com/Autolikescake/status/928528808445014019)

“Overwatch's short list of prospective agents included two members of the soldier enhancement program: Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, a senior officer. Reyes, a hardened and highly respected veteran, grew up about as far from rustic Indiana as you could get—the sprawling urban melting pot of Los Angeles. Despite their differences, the two soldiers became friends. Their decision to join Overwatch together would change the world, for good and for bad.”

(source: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/blog/19809396/) Buckle up - this is one of the longest ones yet!

One thing to keep in mind with this article - “Fading Glory: On the Trail of Jack Morrison” - is that it is written in-universe from an unreliable background narrator (the journalist Olympia Shaw). It contains both “facts about Reyes and Morrison,” but it also contains her biases and is tinted with her view and understanding of the world.

Similarly, all sources cited from within the universe of Overwatch are from very specific perspectives and typically told through an unreliable narrator. At his 2017 GDC talk, “Thinking Globally: Building the Optimistic Future of Overwatch,” Michael Chu had this to say about Blizzard’s storytelling for the characters:

“One of the things that we really like doing with Overwatch is playing with perspective. We utilize perspective when we tell stories about what characters are thinking, what their goals are - and we have a lot of unreliable narrators. We want people to pay careful attention to what characters think about in particular situations. We want them to use their judgement and knowlege of a character’s thoughts to come up with their own ideas about the universe.” - Thinking Globally (Timestamp: 34:35 https://youtu.be/bj56ejM5EcU?t=2075)

This is important because the majority of our information comes from characters with a certain lens on their own words and narratives - Olympia Shaw is one, yes, but others in this story of Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison include: Sombra, Moira O’Deorain, Jesse McCree, Ana Amari, Reinhardt Wilhelm, Torbjörn Lindholm, etc.

And of course -

Gabriel and Jack themselves.

In my opinion, the beauty and fun of the relationship is digging through the details and seeing how much the two characters share together - in the canon story, in their in-game skins and quotes, in their alternate variations, everything. Their nearly 30 years of shared history and close personal relationship (in whatever form it takes) makes them a fascinating and interesting pair together and separately.

Let’s start from the beginning!

---

SEP: The Soldier Enhancement Program

“Before long, [Morrison] earned a coveted position in the government's controversial and still-classified (but widely acknowledged) "soldier enhancement program." Military scientists shaped Morrison and other inductees into the perfect soldiers, blessed with superhuman speed, strength, and agility. Morrison and his fellow augmented soldiers would soon put their abilities to use with the advent of the Omnic Crisis.”

(Source: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/blog/19809396/)

Up until extremely recently, very little was known about the “Soldier Enhancement Program.” People have speculated about the nature of it, how deeply it affected Gabriel and Jack, how the experiences through it shaped the nature of their early relationship, etc.

What We Do Know:

Soldier: 76 has always had an in-game skin titled “Commando” since the launch of the game. Originally, I described this as a reference to the 1970′s/1980′s films about special operations “commandos” such as the Schwarzenegger film by the same name (http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/157378862270/reaper-and-soldier-american-cultural-references) The new “The Art of Overwatch” artbook also confirms this was originally an homage to the 1970′s:

But soon, the Commando skin came to represent something deeper for Soldier: 76 (and Reaper as well).

When the “Uprising” comic was released, there were two panels depicting an aged Strike-Commander Jack describing his experiences in the Omnic Crisis for the first time:

Many people had guessed that the Soldier Enhancement Program was part of a special operations group, but this was the first time this idea was effectively confirmed.

For those of you who may not know, “special operations” are defined as:

Special operations (S.O.) are military operations that are "special" or unconventional and carried out by dedicated special forces and other special operations forces units using unconventional methods and resources. Special operations may be performed independently of or in conjunction with, conventional military operations. The primary goal is to achieve a political or military objective where a conventional force requirement does not exist or might adversely affect the overall strategic outcome. Special operations are usually conducted in a low-profile manner that aims to achieve the advantages of speed, surprise, and violence of action against an unsuspecting target. Special ops are typically carried out with limited numbers of highly trained personnel that are adaptable, self-reliant and able to operate in all environments, and able to use unconventional combat skills and equipment. Special operations are usually implemented through specific, tailored intelligence. (Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special_operations)

“Commandos” fall under the category of “limited numbers of highly trained personnel that are adaptable, self-reliant and able to operate in all environments, and able to use unconventional combat skills and equipment.”

When the “Uprising” playable event was released in-game, it was quickly discovered that Soldier: 76 had been given a new spray titled “Commando:”

But so had someone else.

After nearly a full-year since the game’s release in May 2016, Reaper finally received an image depicting him as a “Commando” from the Omnic Crisis Era.

But above all else -

The sprays are meant to be paired together.

They are a reference to the Contra logo:

...Or you can do the reverse, which makes them, uh -

You can see why people went all out with the “Commander Reyes and I” quote.

Now, with Jeff’s new quote, we have repeated confirmation of what the two characters meant to each other, even from the very beginning:

“The story that we're developing is actually, like–no, these guys loved each other–like–they're like, best war buddies.”

(Sure, Jeff - “best war buddies,” I got ya)

Even from the outset, Gabriel was described as being “a senior officer” to Jack, but that despite differences in their ranks and backgrounds, the two men were friends:

“Overwatch's short list of prospective agents included two members of the soldier enhancement program: Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, a senior officer. Reyes, a hardened and highly respected veteran, grew up about as far from rustic Indiana as you could get—the sprawling urban melting pot of Los Angeles. Despite their differences, the two soldiers became friends.” (source: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/blog/19809396/)

The Commando sprays - on top of being a cute gaming reference - show their closeness in their early years, when all they had was each other and their special operations squad, in what was an incredibly hostile, incredibly dangerous, incredibly uncertain environment -

Both in the war against robots

And in the “Soldier Enhancement Program.”

Soldier: 24 and Soldier: 76

“The Reaper is an extremely volatile mercenary, a ruthless and remorseless killer responsible for terrorist attacks across the world. He has fought in many armed conflicts in the last decades, showing no loyalty to any cause or organization. Survivors have described a black shadow ghosting unscathed through the most hellish battlefields. The few bodies recovered of those he kills are pale, empty husks drained of life, their cells showing signs of intense degradation. It is possible that he is a byproduct of failed genetic alteration which forces his cells to simultaneously decay and regenerate at a hyper-accelerated rate.” (Reaper’s profile: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/heroes/reaper/)

“[Moira] was recruited by Gabriel Reyes to be a member of Blackwatch. And uh, during that time she had relationships with the Blackwatch crew - McCree, Genji - they all have their own sort of likes and dislikes for each other. Reyes wanted someone could help advise him on, uh, some matters of genetics that he was, uh, interested in, shall we say.” - Michael Chu, 3:47 (https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=227)

After much speculation about the “decades” line in Reaper’s profile, it appears Blizzard has finally confirmed that - yes - something did happen to Gabriel during SEP.

Something that altered him all the way down to his genetic core.

Fans have been throwing around the idea that “Soldier: 76” is a reference to Jack Morrison’s “Soldier Enhancement Program” number for quite a long time (it’s a personal favorite of mine...which I guess should be obvious at this point, haha), which also led fans to speculate on if Gabriel Reyes ever had a Soldier ID number, and if so, what would it be? People used numbers like “13,” “75,” “666,” etc, but after the reveal of Moira, the Oasis map now has the above folder in her Genetics lab (a spawn room on the University point).

This folder mirrors another one (or rather...two) that can be found in the LumériCo building on the Dorado map:

Was Jack aware of the changes in Gabriel’s biology?

The honest answer: we don’t know for sure.

The hopeful answer: yes, he did.

In theory, it would be almost impossible to hide a secret of that magnitude for the nearly thirty years that both men were together. This is coupled with a few other things:

1. Reaper’s description of his “rogue mercenary work” for “decades” appears to fit the definition of clandestine and covert operations to a tee.

Since it’s been confirmed that both men were “commandos” or special operations personnel for the U.S. military, both men knew the skills, tactics, and values of the nature of unconventional warfare, special operations, clandestine and covert operations, and possible “black operations.”

Clandestine and covert operations are military or intelligence operations in which the first one is a secret or concealed operation entirely, and the second one is an operation in which the sponsor or parent organization is concealed.

The United States Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms (Joint Publication JP1-02, dated 5 January 2007) defines "clandestine operation" as "An operation sponsored or conducted by governmental departments or agencies in such a way as to assure secrecy or concealment. A clandestine operation differs from a covert operation in that emphasis is placed on concealment of the operation rather than on concealment of the identity of the sponsor. In special operations, an activity may be both covert and clandestine and may focus equally on operational considerations and intelligence-related activities." (JP 3-05.1). (Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clandestine_operation)

It makes a ton of sense when put into perspective - by the time of the Omnic Crisis, Gabriel Reyes was likely a young commander in charge of a special operations group or squad on behalf of the U.S. military (I personally see them as part of the Army’s Special Forces (aka “The Green Berets”), but you might prefer a different organization), and either him or his squad was recommended to the “Soldier Enhancement Program,” which likely pooled special operations groups of different ranks, skills, assets, tactics, and potentials to chemically and biologically “enhance” them before sending them out to fight robots. Jack Morrison, while younger, may have had similar skills or was at least in the process of being trained to use or hone them. Most special operations groups are relatively small in terms of the number of people per group or squad - the ground level units of ODAs (Operational Detacthment Alpha squads of the Special Forces) only have 12 people per squad, and each squad can break down into smaller teams of 6 people if the mission requires splitting up or dual-tactics.

The original Overwatch Strike Team only had 5 - 6 people on it (depends on if you think Liao is still a character in development or not).

Gabriel Reyes was the original commander of this group, and may have tailored the group to suit the small-team, clandestine and covert tactics he was used to, or requested that the Strike Team remain small and flexible for unconventional warfare methods in a time when major military operations were failing against Bastions, OR-14s, and Titans the world over. It is not an accident that each member of the original Strike Team appears to also have special operations training, as well as covers major principles of unconventional warfare (e.g. Torbjörn and “combat engineering,” Ana and sniping, Ana and “overwatching,” Jack and combat medicine, Gabriel and “force suppression shotguns,” etc).

Jack Morrison, having also been trained in unconventional warfare and different types of special operations, likely would have understood the need for small, highly skilled, highly specialized teams to conducted clandestine and covert operations, intelligence and reconnaissance missions, and other special operations/unconventional warfare tactics.

In my opinion, it does not make sense that Jack never knew what was going on with Gabriel’s biology, but rather probably worked with him to use it in a way Gabriel was comfortable with and knowledgeable about.

In other words:

2. Gabriel and Jack’s commando backgrounds, along with their early Crisis and OW Strike Team experiences, likely led to the joint decision to form Blackwatch, Overwatch’s covert operations division.

This is likely going to roll into the next part, but effectively, Jack Morrison himself probably created the Blackwatch division, or - with whatever internal Overwatch powers and abilities afforded to him as the new, Post-Crisis Strike-Commander - gave Gabriel the authority to create the Blackwatch division as he saw fit.

Every description of Blackwatch calls it a “division” within Overwatch, meaning that while Gabriel was the division commander (much like how Torbjörn is later described as the “Chief Engineer”), Jack Morrison was the final end in the chain of command.

(Source: McCree’s profile: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/heroes/mccree/)

(Source: the description for the “Blackwatch Reyes” skin)

(Source: Moira’s profile: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/heroes/moira/)

And Gabriel’s “Blackwatch Reyes” skin has always had an Overwatch logo on his left shoulder.

(Which you would think would kinda defeat the purpose of a covert ops division, but all well)

Which brings me to my next point

Overwatch and Blackwatch

“[...] after they defeated the Omnic Crisis, Morrison was actually given the top position of power and Reyes was overlooked because he was too rogue, he was too maverick in his leadership style–he ruffled too many feathers. And a lot of our fans have assumed "oh, that's why Reyes and Morrison hate each other," and the story that we're developing is actually, like–no, these guys loved each other–like–they're like, best war buddies. And in a lot of ways, Reyes was relieved that Morrison had to have the more political role, and like, he was like kind of–it's always easier being the number two guy because you're not ultimately accountable for all that, Reyes was kind of, you know, in some ways thankful and relieved, um, and weirdly, we're gonna show how that relationship actually was Morrison's downfall because for so long, Morrison would actually defend Reyes's questionable actions. And to us, that feels more like what would actually happen between real people and less just, um, typical cliché black-and-white "this guy is bad, that guy is good," you know, we want to have that depth of relationship because I think it's ultimately more relatable to all of us as kind of human beings.” - Jeff Kaplan in yesterday’s reveal

The greatest part about Jeff’s response yesterday was that it basically confirms all of the above:

Gabriel likely had more experience and more depth of skill in clandestine and covert operations, which did not mesh with the United Nations’ vision of Overwatch moving forward. Sure, during the Omnic Crisis, Overwatch was a special operations and unconventional warfare group specifically designed to infiltrate and destroy Omniums, but after the war was won and the dust of the “near robot apocalypse” settled, the United Nations wanted to expand Overwatch from a single small squad of highly skilled individuals to a much larger organization tasked with enforcing and maintaining peace.

Gabriel probably had very little experience with that, as indicated by Jeff’s line “he was too rogue, he was too maverick in his leadership style–he ruffled too many feathers.” Even if he was and is a skilled tactician and covert ops leader, that does not necessarily translate to public-speaking skills or political maneuvering abilities. Jack Morrison, however, may have performed these attributes better during wartime, interfacing with other military or civilian groups on behalf of Overwatch’s secret missions, as well as potentially interacting with their parent group, the United Nations (and/or the UN Security Council). We know that the Under-Secretary General who helped form Overwatch - Gabrielle Adawe - spoke highly of Jack’s teamwork skills:

"Even I had my doubts about whether Overwatch would succeed," UN Under-Secretary-General Gabrielle Adawe, one of Overwatch's key architects, said shortly after the end of the Omnic Crisis. "But Morrison never gave up hope. He didn't just meet our expectations for what Overwatch and its agents could achieve; he shattered them." (Source: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/blog/19809396/)

I’ve also seen fans’ speculate that, given Soldier: 76′s biotic field ability, Jack may have been the Strike Team’s original combat medic, or something based on that. Despite being an in-game healer, Ana Amari’s biotic rifle did not develop until much, much later after the Crisis, when Angela Ziegler (Mercy) had joined Overwatch.

(Notice the two names the blueprint is addressed to, btw.)

In all her “old pictures,” Ana Amari is shown with a few different rifles, but they all appear to be standard sniper rifles.

And all of Soldier: 76′s voicelines about the biotic field are heavily team-focused:

Get over here and heal up!

Anyone need some healing?

Come here and get stabilized.

Field’s down.

Biotic field activated.

Everyone, heal up.

Time to heal up.

Heal up here.

Team, heal up here.

Never leave a teammate behind.

So while Gabriel was the commander, the leader, and the likely tactician of the original Strike Team, the “healer” and “support role” probably fell to Jack. In-game playstyles, though not necessarily canon, would put Jack/Soldier: 76 close to Reinhardt so that Reinhardt could shield his heavy pulse rifle fire, with Gabriel/Reaper operating around their anchor point, as either an offensive flanker against opponents or a defensive protector to help cover them. Ana (assuming she is not healing) and Torbjörn’s turret would help provide suppressive “overwatch” cover, or also cover any holes or gaps in the team’s sides.

It is therefore not unlikely that Gabriel formulated and created the tactics, before giving orders to Jack, who - with the biotic field and his louder voice - was the one that then relayed them to team members or other military groups working with the Overwatch Strike Team.

This partnership has now been confirmed to translate quite well to the Overwatch and Blackwatch operations, with Gabriel’s Blackwatch covert ops division doing reconn, gathering intel, and infiltrating groups (“And in a lot of ways, Reyes was relieved that Morrison had to have the more political role, and like, he was like kind of–it's always easier being the number two guy because you're not ultimately accountable for all that, Reyes was kind of, you know, in some ways thankful and relieved”) -

Before providing that information to Overwatch through Jack Morrison and Ana Amari, who would then use that to implement new Strike Team missions, active U.N. peacekeeping projects, or developing new plans.

When the United Nations or other organizations would ask questions about Blackwatch, Jack “would actually defend Reyes's questionable actions” (again, probably because 1. Jack knew the value of special operations and unconventional warfare and 2. Jack trusted Gabriel to lead those operations as he had always done).

We saw a version of this play out in the “Uprising” comic, which, for the first time, showed a much older Morrison, older Amari, and maybe older Reyes assess a hostile and dangerous situation - the uprising of Null Sector in London.

Notice how Gabriel is snarky and sarcastic with Ana, but when Jack says, “I want to know how Null Sector caught us so off guard,” Gabriel responds with calmer, more factual information. Interestingly, again, it is not Jack who snaps at Gabriel about his use of the word “extremists,” but Ana.

Gabriel follows up with his monologue that, again, is calm and collected, if slightly charged:

The “Uprising” comic - and then the in-game Uprising event voicelines - were the first time fans had seen “Pre-Talon” Gabriel interact with Jack and Ana (and then later Reinhardt and the rest of the ground-level Strike Team). Through these, we were given a vastly different view of Gabriel than other in-universe material had implied: this version of Gabriel was calm, collected, funny, witty, focused, and almost jovial around Jack, Ana, and Reinhardt.

Fans went wild for this version of Gabriel, with a major online movement to get the “Reyes Shrug” as an actual emote, victory pose, or spray in the game, and well -

Blizzard listened

And gave us not one, not even two -

But all three.

(The emote)

(The victory pose)

(The spray)

While this happened during the Anniversary event (after the Uprising event), Jack received a very different emote for Uprising.

And yeah -

People immediately used it exactly how you’d expect.

With Uprising, both Gabriel and Jack received voicelines that...had very similar connotations to them, both said fairly dryly/sarcastically:

Reaper: ...Moving on.

Soldier: 76: ...Whatever you say.

And then with the Anniversary event...something else happened with the voicelines that many people didn’t...quite notice.

Anniversary

Jack received the voiceline, “You’re the boss,” which was rather odd, given that he was “the boss” of Overwatch for about 20 years.

However, there is one other time that Jack Morrison uses the word “boss” in canon material.

Given that Gabriel was Jack’s former commander and his “boss,” and that this particular comic panel comes after a major plot point in which Soldier: 76 and Reaper fight each other, it seems rather likely that “You’re the boss” is a voiceline towards Gabriel/Reaper.

Not coincidentally, the word “boss” is used in direct reference to “present day” Reaper by another character:

Sombra: So what are we doing here, boss?

Reaper: I need to pay a visit to a friend.

(We’ll come back to this particular interaction later.)

Meanwhile, Gabriel received the voiceline “No one left behind” which also seemed odd given that Reaper has left Talon grunts “behind” in things like Recall and “Old Soldiers.” It also doesn’t appear to mesh with his “commando” and covert ops background, in which the mission comes above people.

Except that “being left behind” does show up as a line and a concept said by Reaper -

In a very specific context.

“No one left behind” is incredibly interesting because it gives us a glimpse into Gabriel’s mindset - while his background and skills in covert operations may indicate a non-sentimental, calculating special operations leader, his actual dialogue in several places seems to indicate someone who cares a great deal about his teammates, allies, friends -

And partners.

Which brings us full-circle

To where the end is based on the beginning, and the beginning becomes an end point.

Fall

This is where we get into 100% speculation territory.

For my additional thoughts on this, please see the following:

My version of the Fall of Overwatch timeline: http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/167176447345/and-because-tumblr-is-going-to-destroy-this-post

My discussion on the “death” of Ana Amari and how it affected Gabriel and Jack: http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/159512959195/alright-so-the-subject-of-ana-being-the-source-of

My hypothesis of Overwatch missions and investigations at the time of Uprising: http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/164417776210/devil-in-the-details

My hypothesis that Reaper and Sombra are trying to bring down Talon from the inside: http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/163200042035/death-becomes-you

Now, a lot of this is all theorizing and hypothesizing. It may or may not be true. What I’m going to present here is what we do know, now that we have Moira’s Origins video, and various sources on how Moira and Reaper fit together.

As I brought up earlier, something was likely very wrong with Gabriel’s biology. He’s the only character of the original Strike Team that does not appear to age at all in canon material.

From the early Overwatch days, in which we can see that the “older” team members of Reinhardt and Torbjörn have started aging a bit.

To Uprising

In which Jack and Ana are both shown with greying hair, while Gabriel looks largely unchanged.

(keep in mind there’s likely a gap of approximately 10 years between these two pictures)

To the latest pictures of him from Moira’s Origins video

(An unknown amount of time has progress between Uprising and this moment, or that this moment potentially came before Uprising).

On the subject of Moira’s recruitment, Michael Chu had this to say:

“She was recruited by Gabriel Reyes to be a member of Blackwatch. And uh, during that time she had relationships with the Blackwatch crew - McCree, Genji - they all have their own sort of likes and dislikes for each other. Reyes wanted someone could help advise him on, uh, some matters of genetics that he was, uh, interested in, shall we say.” - Michael Chu, 3:47 (https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=227)

Which means this tweet now makes a lot of sense:

(Source: https://twitter.com/westofhouse/status/758425704530710528)

Which, again, when we backtrack, we find the “Soldier: 24″ folder in Moira’s lab on Oasis

But we also have something else going on:

http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/167135805485/segadores-y-soldados-currently-in-addition

The short version:

Moira is the Minister of Genetics at Oasis. In her lab, you’ll find the “Soldier: 24” folder, along with a copy of Angela/Mercy’s research on the regenerative properties of nanobiology. However, the spawn room on the other side of the map is the Ministery of Chemistry, and in that spawn room, you’ll find this:

A copy of Moira’s research on “Repairing Degenerative Genetic Structures” with a post-it note that says “Draft” and her Ministry of Genetics lab symbol and name in Arabic.

Which gives us new context to that Sombra-Reaper interaction on Oasis:

Sombra: So what are we doing here, boss?

Reaper: I need to pay a visit to a friend.

And yes, Reaper does appear to mean “friend” in a truly platonic sense of the word because Michael specifically went out of his way to say that Moira and Reaper have only a “professional” relationship between them:

Geoff Goodman: “It [Her Fade ability] has some similarities to Reaper’s wraith form…uh which is…it’s funny how that works out.” Michael Chu: “You know, we obviously - there’s a…there’s a close relationship between Moira and Reyes-slash-Reaper, and I think one of the fun things we were able to do is to sort of hint at some of those things in her, uh, abilities.” Geoff Goodman: “She’s helping Reaper out and is like, ‘You know, I think I could make this better, I have an idea.’” Michael Chu: “Professional relationship.” Geoff Goodman: “Ahaha, yes…good call.” Michael Chu: “You know what I’m talking about.” [Whole panel laughs] - Time: 14:49 (https://youtu.be/HsJU3PEk9JY?t=889)

(Source: http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/167111711575/moira-preview-new-hero-overwatch-panel)

While I’ve hypothesized here that Jack knew about some (or possibly all) of Gabriel’s conditions, he may or may not have approved of Blackwatch’s decision to recruit Moira. What’s interesting is that Moira’s profile says this:

“Her employment was a closely kept secret, until it was uncovered during inquiries following the Venice incident. Many high-ranking Overwatch officials disavowed all knowledge of her affiliation with them.” (Source: Moira’s profile: https://playoverwatch.com/en-us/heroes/moira/)

But Jeff said this:

“[...] we're gonna show how that relationship actually was Morrison's downfall because for so long, Morrison would actually defend Reyes's questionable actions. And to us, that feels more like what would actually happen between real people and less just, um, typical cliché black-and-white "this guy is bad, that guy is good," you know, we want to have that depth of relationship because I think it's ultimately more relatable to all of us as kind of human beings.”

It’s difficult to parse out, and while I have my own theories and ideas, the answer is not yet discernible. Did Jack know about Moira’s recruitment? Did he approve of it? Did he defend her position publically? Did he not know but defend Blackwatch anyways?

Did he request that Gabriel seek her out?

We don’t know yet, but I welcome all possible theories. It adds significantly more depth to the later years of the relationship between Gabriel and Jack, and complicates things significantly. We need to remember that, according to his own words, Reaper blames Jack for “leaving [him] to suffer” and “become this thing.”

This concept is at a disconnect with the likelihood that Moira either worsened his genetic condition and therefore hastened his shift into “Reaper,” or that she “unlocked [his] potential” and forced the “state of existence” on him entirely.

Or that she was truly, genuinely trying to help.

Remember - Moira’s Origin video is told from her perspective. Michael Chu said this:

(Source: https://us.battle.net/forums/en/overwatch/topic/20759241192#post-13)

In her own mind, it’s possible that Moira genuinely believed she was helping Gabriel “improve” by whatever her research or experiments on him did to him (or whatever they found out).

However, we also know that Nesskain, the artist behind Moira’s Origins video, had this to say about Gabriel’s feelings:

(Source: https://twitter.com/nesskain/status/926674887615188992)

(Tumblr link: http://segadores-y-soldados.tumblr.com/post/167110576805/httpstwittercomnesskainstatus926674887615188)

Between this, Reaper’s “He did this to me, Ana” line, and the supposed “battle” at the Swiss Watchpoint, something major occurred, and it could be any number of possibilities - a genuine falling out between two old soldiers and “war buddies,” a heartbreaking schism between two men who “loved each other,” an inevitable split between partners whose visions for the world had shifted from each other, or, hell, even a “fake” fight in order to preserve an infiltration mission.

Pick your card and play it.

Personally, I see it as some sort of combination of events, but without more information, it’s pretty much impossible to say for certain. There are, however, some suspicious details lingering elsewhere.

The City of the Dead, and the Shadows that connect people

Unless you play Elimination or the Death Matches, you might never come across the Necropolis and Castillo maps, but man, I would urge everyone who enjoys the characters and wordbuilding of Overwatch to set up a custom game and just wander around because these are full of details.

First up:

Necropolis

The Necropolis is Ana Amari and Soldier: 76′s current hideout on the outskirts of the Giza Pyramid complex. This allows Ana to continue her current personal mission of safeguarding the Temple of Anubis (as well as keep an eye on her daughter’s Helix squad), and also gives her a safe place to store her biotic grenades and darts equipment.

Ana’s look out over the Temple of Anubis

Ana’s workshop

Jack’s...uh...corner.

But the truly interesting part is this:

The “Reaper sightings” computers.

Here’s the map. The locations are:

Volskaya Industries, St. Petersburg, Russia (the “Infiltration” short)

Watchpoint: Gibraltar, Gibraltar (the “Recall” short)

Numbani, Nigeria (the museum heist trailer)

Oasis, Iraq (confirmed now that Moira is there)

And perhaps the most and least surprising of all:

Los Angeles, California

Gabriel’s original home.

Now -

When did “Reaper” go home?

(Yeah, yeah, and contrary to popular belief it does rain in California sometimes, okay?)

Lots of speculation has occurred around this panel - who exactly are these people? Are they related to Gabriel? Are they old friends? Is one of the adults an ex-agent of Overwatch?

Keep in mind that even if he hasn’t aged, Gabriel is chronologically in his early to mid-fifties in the present day. Overwatch’s playable and background characters tend to have really...vague ages, but personally, I see this family as being related to Gabriel, possibly as a sibling or an adult niece or nephew. I have seen some people speculate one of the adults could be his child.

What I find more interesting, however, is the question:

How did Jack and Ana get this information that Reaper visited Los Angeles?

Castillo - Sombra’s Room

Sombra’s room is a treasure trove of implied connections and details. Something that’s important to keep in mind is that Sombra is one of the few people to know canonically that Gabriel is Reaper.

(Source: https://us.battle.net/forums/en/overwatch/topic/20753735625#post-13)

Now, this was posted before Doomfist and Moira were revealed, so we don’t know the status of them (Moira seems like a “no duh” answer, but honestly, considering how Michael said that neither McCree nor Reinhardt know, I’m skeptical about how much Doomfist knows), but effectively, Sombra “knows the truth about Reaper.”

Which means this interaction is canon:

Sombra: What's the plan today, Gabe? You don't mind if I call you Gabe, do you?

Reaper: Stick to the mission.

What is Sombra referencing?

The only other person to use the nickname “Gabe” for Gabriel -

is Jack Morrison.

In her interactions with him, Ana calls him “Gabriel,” as does her daughter Fareeha when she references. McCree never addresses him by name, but considering that Gabriel uses the line “Reyes here” during the in-game Uprising event, he apparently prefers to stick with surnames during operations.

But that goes out the window with Jack.

And Sombra absolutely knows this.

Because in Sombra’s room, you can find these:

A picture of Jack Morrison and Jesse McCree.

Sombra also apparently knows about Ana because:

She has a file on Ana’s “Shrike” bounty hunter identity

As well as this interesting little tidbit:

Which shows Ana’s face.

The McCree stuff is also interesting because Sombra and McCree may have had contact with each other at about the same time that Gabriel is visiting Los Angeles:

Does Sombra have contact with Jack and Ana?

Again, the honest answer is: we don’t know.

But the hopeful answer is: possibly.

In the more recent “Searching” comic, Lynx-17, a hacker who has been trying to track Sombra’s efforts, said this:

And somehow -

Sombra has some sort of connection to Soldier: 76.

Sombra and Soldier: 76 are also the only two characters heavily invested in uncovering LumériCo’s shady dealings. Sombra, of course, had her massive ARG, in which LumériCo’s corruption was slowly (very...very...slowly) revealed by players. Soldier: 76 is the only other character to express interest in LumériCo, with the line:

“I wanna know what LumériCo's been up to.”

However, we also know he’s anti-Los Muertos, the arms-dealing gang that supported Sombra’s efforts against LumériCo.

Do Sombra and Soldier: 76 have a tentative alliance? Are they sharing information? Is she helping him track Reaper? Sombra was not present when Gabriel went home to Los Angeles, but she is present in the Volskaya Industries infiltration mission and Reaper’s “visit” to Oasis. Interestingly, the pictures on the blue screen of the “Reaper sightings” computer are from the Volskaya Industries mission...and Sombra was the one running the cameras.

Again - how deliberate is all this?

You know the drill by know:

Honest answer: we don’t know. Hopeful answer: Hopefully deliberate.

Lastly, because this section is getting kinda long -

Reaper and Sombra share one final interaction that is very...interesting to think over:

Reaper: Try to stick to the plan, Sombra.

Sombra: Look, someone has to be ready when all your careful planning doesn't pan out.

Again, does it mean anything? Who knows. But bear in mind that Sombra is one of the few people to know that Gabriel is Reaper, and that Gabriel has always been the commander trained in stealth, covert operations, reconn and intelligence gathering, and infiltration missions. Sombra knows this, and Gabriel knows she knows it too. They appear to have a tentative trust with one another, and again, Sombra is the only person (besides Jack) to have ever called Gabriel “Gabe” and “boss” (at least, that we know of). Gabriel was also aware of her “plan” to throw their Volskaya mission, which means he not only let Sombra deliberately trigger the alarm system, he also willingly let Katya Volskaya escape.

(Source: Masquerade comic)

“But if Reaper is working with Sombra, why would he tattle on her?”

Again, honest answer, hopeful answer, blah blah blah. You’re not here for me to say “I don’t know 100 times,” you’re here for the hopeful answer.

The hopeful answer is that:

Again, Gabriel has experience with infiltration and intel missions - he’s been doing this for thirty years, possibly longer given his military experience. There is almost no faster way to gain one person’s trust than to “snitch” on another, to show that you’re going to work with Person A instead of Person B. It’s a risky move, but if Person B is willing to pretend to be the “fall guy,” they then can try to cover each other better. Which again -

Goes back to who has the “back up” ideas when all of Reaper’s “careful planning doesn’t pan out”?

At the Blizzard voice actors panel at Anime Expo 2017, Michael Chu said this:

“Yeah, you know, [Sombra] gets on [Reaper’s] nerves a little bit, but I think that, ultimately, Reaper knows that Sombra is...effective, and so he respects that because he is a good eye for talent. (Audience starts to cheer) Look at that Blackwatch team - it’s amazing!” - Michael Chu (Timestamp: 45:48 https://youtu.be/JPQi61a8fD0?t=2748)

Now -

What is Sombra effective for?

Finding secrets that are hidden.

Sombra has found LumériCo’s shading dealings. She’s found connections between LumériCo and Vishkar and Volskaya. She’s found where Katya is getting her new mech technology from (a group in Numbani).

(And Reaper may not know these ones but) she has found that Ana Amari is alive. She has found connections between Ana Amari and Jesse McCree.

She is investigating Jack Morrison -

And has a connection to Soldier: 76 somehow.

And more than anything else

Sombra knows Gabriel’s nickname is “Gabe”

And she knows who used to call him that.

And she very likely knows Jack’s end of this as well.

What does Soldier: 76 want more than anything else?

To find out who brought down Overwatch.

---

So now we’ve essentially caught up with the current plot. Reaper and Sombra are running around working with Doomfist and Moira. Soldier: 76 and Ana are hiding out in the Necropolis. Winston has initiated Recall and so far, Tracer, Genji, Reinhardt, and Mei are answering it and returning to Overwatch. Doomfist has partially destroyed Numbani and reclaimed his Gauntlet. Efi Oladele has built Orisa. Sombra has managed to persuade Zarya that Katya Volskaya is not to be trusted. Junkrat and Roadhog are trying to trick the Queen of Junkertown to let them back in. Torbjörn is working with Bastion on something (???). Moira is conducting research in Oasis (and may be fighting the Ministry of Chemistry to get her research back).

Where do we go from here?

There are a few avenues:

1. We will likely see more characters answer the Recall initiation and return to Overwatch. Who - we don’t know yet. Mercy, Torbjörn, and McCree are all still potential returnees.

2. We will start seeing Talon become more emboldened about moving forward with their plans to accelerate the Second Omnic Crisis - now that Doomfist is out of prison and Vialli (who was more content with easy profits in peace) is dead, Doomfist appears to be taking more control over the council that runs the organization.

3. We will likely see Soldier: 76 and Ana react to these, especially if they are tracking Reaper or are being given information on his locations from an “inside source” (like Sombra or even possibly Reaper himself). We know that the two of them are trying to prevent Anubis from breaking out of his confinement...and possibly prevent others from breaking in to help him, and they are in the next-closest playable location to Oasis.

4. We will start seeing repercussions for Winston’s Recall, as Overwatch is still illegal and formally disbanded. The United Nations, along with its contracted military support service, Helix Securities, may start making strong moves to stop Winston and the new Overwatch group, or may go after old members who are conspiring to bring it back.

5. I personally suspect we will start seeing more of Vishkar, and as a related connection to them, Lúcio. Sanjay Korpal - Satya Vaswani’s (Symmetra’s) boss - has shown up in Talon meetings twice now (once in the Masquerade comic and again in Moira’s Origins video). Lúcio managed to increase public awareness against Vishkar’s unethical and immoral actions in Rio de Janeiro, and he’s a major popular folk hero and inspiration the world over.

6. I also suspect we will eventually see the return of Null Sector in some way, shape, or form. Although Mondatta is dead, there are the implications that anger and bitterness still linger among Omnics in London, and both Doomfist and Moira have lines that imply that Talon is looking to ignite that anger into something larger. A large portion of the Overwatch-affiliated cast, such as Reinhardt, Tracer, Torbjörn, Mercy, Soldier: 76, Reaper, Ana, and McCree, all made large efforts to stop Null Sector seven years ago, and while Reaper is working for Talon, and Soldier: 76, Ana, and McCree have all gone rogue, I doubt any of them want to see Null Sector return again.

7. We hopefully will see Orisa’s clash with Doomfist. Numbani is something like Doomfist’s old stomping grounds, but now that Efi has built Orisa, there’s someone there who is uniquely designed to counter Doomfist in many ways. As an aside, if she’s still alive, Gabrielle Adawe - one of the founders of Overwatch - may also live in Numbani, and could return to the plot somehow.

8. In his most recent AMA with the Overwatch subreddit, Jeff alluded to the fact that background characters like Maximilien, the Queen of Junkertown, Lynx-17, and Hammond (the rogue “specimen” from the Horizon Lunar Colony) may all eventually become playable (source: https://www.reddit.com/r/Overwatch/comments/7bdyby/blizzcon_2017_interview_jeff_kaplan_bill_warnecke/). Hammond in particular provides an opportunity to both explore Winston’s backstory as well as motivate Winston to use Recalled Overwatch in a bolder manner going forward. Lucheng links Lijiang Tower (where they have a base of operations) and the Horizon Lunar Colony together, and it’s very likely that Hammond has a major grudge to settle with them for their illegal and unethical treatment of great apes in the moon colony.

And the one you’re actually reading this longass post for:

9. Gabriel and Jack begin the process of reconciliation.

Yes, it’s “hopeful,” perhaps blindingly so, but isn’t that the whole point of Overwatch? Isn’t that what the game is about? ...Okay, ignore the part where two teams of six people go and shoot each other in Hollywood backlots - once you get past that part, isn’t Overwatch about hope? About heroes? About how anyone and everyone can be a hero in their own right?

And doesn’t every “hero” need a “villain”?

(even if he is pretty frustrated with his...rather incompetent lackeys.)

After all -

this is a song and dance they’ve done for nearly thirty years.

Soldier: 76: Well. You sure take to this “bad guy thing” easily, don't ya?

Reaper: And you sure know how to play “boy scout.”

According to Michael Chu’s 2017 GDC talk “Thinking Globally: Building the Optimistic Future of Overwatch”:

“What’s important to us is that [the villains’] motivations are not purely rooted in being evil, despite how they might seem on the surface. As we reveal more about these characters, we want people to be able to empathize and understand their beliefs. Because sometimes what makes a villain a villain is the extent to which they’re willing to go to reach their goals. And one thing that we find most important when we’re talking about our villain characters is that there is nothing to say that a villain cannot be as charismatic or more charismatic or as likeable as a hero character - because, like the old saying goes, ‘every villain is the hero of their own story.’”

And what better way to get someone to trust you -

Than to “sell out” a longtime ally and partner to further the goals of your “new organization”

And play the part of the “villain?”

But who is going to be there to cover his back and defend his actions this time?

Soldier: 76: One of these days someone is gonna to put an end to you.

Reaper: I invite them to try.

Sombra, the hacker with her own agenda? Widowmaker, the sniper who feels alive only when she kills? Moira, the one who possibly made him this way?

Or perhaps him -

His “best war buddy”

The one who loved him back -

Who calls himself by a number that only Gabe will recognize the full history and “depth of relationship” behind.

And the last one:

10. I think we will eventually see what Gabriel’s actual “careful planning” is.

Whether that’s bringing Talon down or stopping Recalled Overwatch, we don’t know yet -

But you know the drill by now.

There’s the honest answer

and the hopeful one.

And you can guess which one I’m willing to place my bets on.

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evilback-wards · 6 years

Text

Top Candidate [Pre-DRV3]

Chapter Eight

Length: 2070

Rating: 16+ish?

Prefer AO3 format? Click here. Otherwise, below the line lovelies!

Today was painful. All of a sudden TS decided to give us back our full memory. It’s been difficult to cope with the constant personality changes within me. It’s sorta bullshit that I had my personality replaced in the first place. Who did that blue-haired cunt think she is? My body felt worse once I had been introduced to my old memories. During scenes we ran today, I kept switching between normal me and this fictional persona of me. My body often struggled to follow through with what I actually wanted. For example, TS had to drag me here today because I refused to leave my room. Oh, yeah, we have rooms now. Apparently of all the high tech things they can do, they can’t organize what our rooms for the killing game will look like. I kept mine simple. Our talent rooms, however, were designed by high-end roleplayers from across the world. Mine happened to be a pretentious fuck that “ironically” decorated my talent room with things to use to kill others. Poison, the most stupid killing device ever in a video games, was put in my room without a second thought. After getting really pissed off there, I was dragged off by TS into a classroom. After that, Kokichi was walked here with Rantaro(Kodaka likely is on the panel for whatever this fucking audition entails).

The classroom had been strange, the desk arranged in a circle. The chalkboard wasn’t a traditional one; it had been replaced with a high tech board with a blue landing screen. I hadn’t been let near it due to TS insisting we needed to take pictures before the auditions tomorrow. Well, whatever tomorrow comes. Time was hard to track here. My old personality had nothing to help or offer when it came to getting my bearings in such a weird electronic space.

Another weird quirk about the current classroom I was in was the desk arrangement. All of the desk were arranged in a circle, with lighting fixtures all around them. Kokichi and I sitting next to each other, the light from all the equipment starting to piss me off.

“I bet they’re setting up for our headshots for the audition,” Kokichi said, smiling as he adjusted his scarf, “I think we’ll at least be shot fairly this way.”

“Then where’s the blonde bitch then,” I questioned, my eyes scanning the room for other personnel. It appeared empty besides the two of us. I didn’t understand this at all. It would be helpful if those assholes running this could give us clear directions. But, no, apparently this would all lead up to some big despair-inducing event. I looked over at Kokichi now, whom seemed to have frown on his face. What was the matter with him? Kokichi placed both of his hands on either one of my shoulders, his face staring up at mine.

“Ah, don’t talk to your lover like that! She’s yours, remember,” Kokichi stated, his lips frowning. He looked serious. Was Kokichi being a dick or did he actually not regain his memory of our past?

“Er, sure for the game. But, in reality…” I said, leaning closer to Kokichi’s face. I watched as his face turned scarlet, closing his eyes as we met for a kiss. I heard several cameras flicker as our lips met, my eyes opening and looking around at the flashes.

Once my eyes settled from the brightness, I saw TS and Kokichi standing next to each other. I looked to see who had really been in front of me. Of course, it had to be the blonde bitch instead of my actual person of interest.

“There we are! We have all the pictures we need for your picture reference book! Are we excited for auditions, everyone,” TS asked, morphing into Sayaka.

“Why give us back our memory if we’re just going to lose it again,” Kaede said, seeming just as upset as I am.

“Yeah, and at least warn me before I’m forced to kiss blondie,” I added, exchanging intense glares with Kaede and TS. TS just laughed. Her eyes felt cold when she looked at me with a serious stare. I tried to glare back at her in attempts to show something of a backbone. I was tired of playing the pantsy they oh so desired. When I saw that TS was moving her shoulder, my eyes followed her hand.

On the desk in front of TS lay a black-and-white folder with a Monokuma plastered on the front. TS placed her index finger over the eye, causing the file to blink red before being absorbed into the desk.

Before I was able to voice further complaints, I felt the area around me shift.

A surge of heat and cold collided in my body, my vision blurring to darkness. The cold of a summer night had overtaken my exposed skin, my body holding something warm, small, and squishy...my eyes tried to focus, but the most I could make out is purple hair.

“Koki..chi? I think I just woke up from a bad dream,” I muttered, noticing the low battery notice flash on the vita screen. I saw the purple hair turn into a face. As it got closer, it did turn out to be him. I could feel a smile form from my lips, and for the first time, I actually *felt* real. I could feel the warmth from inside my body, blood pumping from and to all corners. I could feel the weight in my eyelids, struggling to stay awake. I could feel my hands securely around Kokichi’s waist.

“I don’t want to waste time. After this, our lives will be at the whim of some stupid adults...this is the only moment we get,” Kokichi whispered to me. As Kokichi adjusted himself in my hold, I could feel his body begin to pin me down against the treehouse wall. Despite his small stature, Kokichi seemed stronger than usual.

“Take me, detective,” Kokichi said, his voice soft but demanding.

I could feel fingers pull at the buttons on my uniform. I wanted to grin, but for some reason, it felt like something was overriding my body. My hands stayed at their sides, only moving when Kokichi slipped off my shirt.

I could feel Kokichi shift to straddle one of my legs, his knee grinding against my groin. I jerked back, hitting the wooden wall of the treehouse several times before Kokichi held me steady against his knee.

As much as I wanted this, to say all the things I wanted to when Kokichi wasn’t ready, it felt like there was cotton in my mouth. I hadn’t been the slightest bit nervous. My hands wanted to explore many areas of Kokichi. Before all of this, before we were thrown into this madness...it was Kokichi who was too scared to do anything. He kept ranting and raving about parent paranoia, the stink in the treehouse, if Keebo or Rantaro stopped by and watched, and any bad scenario in between the spectrum.

But, as Kokichi’s knee teased me, my body felt helpless to his touch. I was beginning to suspect there being an error with porting my consciousness back into my human-esque body when my hands jolted to slap Kokichi’s back, grinding his knee further against my groin. I let out a soft groan, looking up top the treehouse. How much of this would I end up remembering? Why were we giving up so easily to the team and doing stuff like this instead?

I felt Kokichi’s lips glide against my neck now, leaving bite marks along the way.

“I better make sure that cunt Kaede knows who you belong to,” muttered Kokichi between bites, before crashing into my lips.

I hadn’t wanted to give up, but I also didn’t want to miss this chance. Kokichi was always too nervous to go further than 2nd base with me. I guess, with the prospect of dying in front of us, we had to make due with whatever freedom they gave us.

. . .

“Are you sure it’s ok to let #154 and the top candidate use their bodies for the night? What if they decide to run off,” asked #2002. I scoffed at such a question, pounding my cane into the marble flooring. Around me were people scrambling to get the place looking just right for tomorrow. My throne room had to be best, of course, passed down 52 generations. My help staff had to help the current event staff, which could easily surpass one thousand. But I couldn’t retain a dedicated team like last cycle, or else disaster may strike. I needed to keep tasks as spread out as possible to avoid any colluding. If this cycle was anything like the last, I’d make a mockery of who I am. Who I stand for. What I believe in.

The throne chair was being polished as I sat down, multiple teams of mine were rushing about and discussing different sections of tomorrow.

The blue haired, glasses wearing, oddly average girl in front of me was on one knee. It was tradition for candidates and participants to address us like this. Otherwise, they’d be killed off or otherwise disposed off. Her eyes appeared distant as they stared at the marble flooring underneath her. If she hadn’t been in cahoots with Team Danganronpa, I would’ve killed her on the spot. And, I guess, I saw her as worthy of going through auditions. We can’t let cycle 52 be repeated at any cost. I’m anxious, ok? What if we fuck up and let a fucking, er, I won’t spoil it. Not to myself and not for anyone out there who like secrets. I needed to keep my head cool and confident. I had to find the perfect vessel to make this the best killing game yet.

“Duh. Those two boys think they’re gonna die tomorrow. What’s the point of speeding up that process? I’m not gonna like let #154 die a virgin with what promise he’s shown during training,” I answered, a few of my assistants crowding my hair. Guess I am cutting it a bit close with my personal presentation. They’re using those ultra-HD cameras this year so any imperfection will be viewed for the entire black market.

“Perfect and impeccable as usual, dear Junko.When should I fetch their data for tomorrow?” #2002 asked, her eyes still to the floor.

“Promptly at 5AM. Once their data is loaded back in, they will likely forget the event ever happened. Despair inducing, right? To force them into their old bodies, let them fuck, and then have them forget it ever happened?” I replied, laughing loudly. I listened as that laugh echoed onward, between those who worked for me and the natural good acoustics of my throne room. Ah, how beautiful it feels to be alive and living on the Junko legacy.

“Yes, understood. Andyes, very despair inducing...perhaps, something we could incorporate that in the killing game?” #2002 said, starting to stand on her two feet. I wasn’t expecting her to keep rattling on, but, she did make an interesting point. Besides Cycle 27, there had been no legal cotial relations setting for the participants. And the despair that could come from it...it would be a possibility good enough for any remaining funds post production. I couldn’t let #2002 get away with leaving her respectful position. A smirk curled up from my face, a cutsy look overtaking my persona.

“Ah. Speaking out of turn, I see?” I said, pressing a button on the side of my throne. Large spikes shot from the ground, scrambling the data and pixels of #2002.

“Y҉ę͚̣͇͇̻͇̤s̛͉̯͇̮͙̪,̘̥͓͈̝̝̬͠ ̮͍̕I͍͇̥͔̖̺ ̷̙̖̱̭̲͎̦lo̤̙͚͞ͅv̹̱e̙͇͢ͅ ̴t̪͉͍h̬͇̜̦̱̙͜i҉̰͎̖͙͙̜ͅs͔̰̤̩͢

͕̰͉̥͡

͕̜̜͇̼D̵͖̹̠̘͇E͕̼͎̬͍̞S̖P҉͔̰̳̮͖̞A͓̗̦͠I͉͝R͖Ḑ̯̹͖̬̥̬E̪̫̥̱S͈̫͎̩P̖A̞̣̥͓I̠R̲̯̙͉͡D̵̰Ȩ̟͉S̱̦̱̕P̩͕̩̗̪̙͟ĄỊ̳̥̮͠RD͉̱̠͖E̱̱̣͉̼̭S̰͍̖̝̮̜P̫̺̻͜AI͇̙̖̥̳̝͈͘R̮̫D̪͕̜̼͎̗ͅE͚͎̜͓͔͚S̖̖̞P̧̭̝̩͈̙̖A̖͈̘̬͎͍I̬͙R̥D̜E̯̞̫̹͍ͅS̡͔̳͙͈P̧̦̗̻A͔̣I̟̤̩͚͉͈̘R͕” #2002 voice still managed to speak out, the dead pixels causing her voice to sound more like some sort of vaporwave song. Huh. I guesss I should fix her. She does need to load back in #154 and the top candidate.

“Assistants, fix #2002 so she can proceed with wor--” I began to say, but the dumb cunt couldn’t stop saying despair. Her words were beginning to dirty my throne room, random black pixels scattering against the marble floor. It was disgusting but….so despair inducing. So beautiful. So honest.

“Also, advance her roster to the 2nd audition,” I added, footsteps rushing across the room with their fair share of paperwork. This should prove to be interesting.

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