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phantomphangphucker · 5 years

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A King For Tonight’s Fentertainment - Chap. 1: In Pixie Dust We Do Not Trust

Summary: Most kings homes are inside their kingdoms, but that is exactly where Danny doesn’t want his. But, as per usual, the GIW have to mess everything up

Danny groans as he looks out the Casper High classroom window, groaning again as he places his chin on his hand. Glaring out at the white jet in the sky, “now what are those GIW idiots flying around for?”. Danny squints at what appears to be sparkling blue powder coming out of, or off of?, the jet, “oh fuck, goddamnit”, groaning exaggeratedly and muttering under his breath, “why couldn’t it have just been Skulkie or Boxy instead?”, as he raises his hand.

“You can’t go to the bathroom, Mr. Fenton. But I’m sure you’ll leave anyway”.

Danny smirks as he stands but promptly has to grip the edge of the desk as the whole damn building shakes. Muttering, “oh great, it’s something fast-acting. Wonderful. Love it. Absolutely perfect. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Fuck my very existence”. Meanwhile, the rest of the class erupts into screaming as the building continues to shake.

“Quiet down! Quiet down! A Cask Of Amontillado! Remain in your seats!”, Mr. Lancer points at Danny, “sit down! Standing is certainly less safe!”. While the rest of the class do indeed sit down on the floor, most hugging the walls, Danny’s too busy staring out the window as the sky slowly bleeds to a toxic glowing green. Groaning, “oh extra fuck me. Something tells me I’d rather snort Nasty sauce than deal with this. Goddamnit”.

While Danny’s off muttering to himself, Valerie slips and crashes into the classroom door, falling inside the classroom. Muttering to herself, “shit, there’s a teacher here. How the fuck am I supposed to-”. Mr. Lancer cuts off her mutterings, “Ms. Gray! Why aren’t you with your class!”. Valerie groans and reluctantly crawls into the classroom as Mr. Lancer aggressively motions for her to come in and sit down.

Danny can’t help but snicker at her misfortune, as he slides down the wall to sit down, muttering, “well at least both teenage superhero idiots are stuck by the suffering that is American Highschool”. Danny flops to lay down on the ground while most of his classmates' whimper. Deciding to lighten the mood, Danny chuckles, “I’m too old for this shit”.

Lester gapes at him, “you’re the same age as us? And do you just not care? We’re going to fucking die-”. Dash cuts him off, “oh like some wimpy wind is going to take me down!”.

Danny snickers, “naw, all you need is a shrink gun”.

“What was that Fentonio?”.

“A quip, witty banter, snide remark; you know, a joke”.

“Daniel, considering the situation we find ourselves in, I don’t think now’s the time to be baiting your peers!”.

Danny chuckles as the shaking stops partway through Mr. Lancer's words. Smirking from the floor, “I think the situation you’re complaining about isn’t a situation, in this situation”, pointing out the window, “but another situation has, clearly, been greenlit”.

Valerie glares at the ceiling, “Danny what the hell does that even me-”, cutting herself off as she looks where Danny’s pointing, “oh, oh fuck. Is that?”, looking down at Danny’s face, “that’s the Ghost Zone, isn’t it?”. Danny nods with a frown while Dash pipes up again, “wow Fentlowaskey, what did your screwed up parents screw up now?”. While Paulina’s crying about Phantom saving them, Danny rolls his eyes and sits up, “this daily dose of ghostly suffering is brought to you by the colour white”.

Mr. Lancer gets up, cracking his knees and back as he does, before helping students get up. Talking at Danny as he helps up Nathan, “and how would you know that, Mr. Fenton?”. Danny jabs his thumb at the window, “white jet spewing blue glitter, the STI of the craft world just assfucked us into the Ghost Zone”.

Dash whimpers and looks out the window, attempting to not appear as scared as he actually is, “b-but they could have just made the s-sky green right? We’re not, like, actually in the Ghost Zone?!”.

Danny frowns as he stands, batting away Mr. Lancers offered hand, “seems we are. But it’s not like this is the f-”. Dash cuts Danny off, crying out, “oh god we’re dead! I can’t be dead! I’m too awesome!”. Danny just stares at the freaking out jock for a second, while the rest of the class slowly starts to panic more.

Danny facepalms, not wanting everyone to utterly lose their shit any further, “Dash, you are not dead, we are not dead. We’ve been over this once before. In the Ghost Zone doesn’t equal dead. We’ve been here before, remember?”. Dash stops and lets his arms flop down to his sides, “oh...right”. This seems to settle down most of the other students, with a couple even starting to snicker at the jock.

Danny shuffles his feet, looking to find a way to get away, “soooo. I'mma just gonna go get my parents”. Valerie snaps her head towards him, “oh yeah! I, um, I’ll go with! Make sure Danny doesn’t get sidetracked or whatever”. Danny rolls his eyes but smirks, knowing full well what she’s doing, but he only gets two steps before Mr. Lancer grabs both him and Valerie. Mr. Lancer shakes his head at the two of them, “oh no, I’m certain the Fenton’s are well aware of Amity’s current predicament. So as is required in these situations, we will be staying together. As a class. And make our way into the parking lot”. The entirety of the class groans, but none louder than Danny; who full-on tilts his head back and sags his body, in an overacted show of annoyance and exasperation.

Mr. Lancer doesn’t let go of their wrists as he does a headcount, fully aware of the twos tendency to run off; even when doing so should be impossible, with Danny particularly.

Eventually, all of Casper High is gathered outside and most are gaping at the sky. Valerie glares daggers at it, blatantly annoyed. While Danny is relaxed and sitting on the grass, Mr. Lancer standing next to him. Danny chuckles at Valerie, “what? Trying to glare it to Death?”.

“It’s already dead, Danny. But if glaring would make it go away, I’d find a way to glare harder”.

“Now that I’d like to see. Not sure glaring harder is possible. But if you developed eye death rays then your glare would be literally deadly”, Danny just smirks as she glares at him before opening his mouth again, “anyway...standing around ain’t doing shit sooooo...”. Danny gets up and attempts to bolt off, promptly getting caught by Ms. Teslaff, “awwww, come on...”.

“Thank you Ms. Teslaff”, Mr. Lancer walks up and pretty well drags Danny back, “I’m pretty sure this one doesn’t know how to stay for more than twenty minutes”. Danny grumbles, “I’m not a dog”.

Dash sneers, “you’re about as well trained as one”.

“Dash...that, that doesn’t even make sense. Dogs are known for being well trained or trainable. No fucker’s training me to obey their shit”, Danny smirks at Dash, “but props for pretending to have enough brain cells to be witty. You still get an F though”.

“Fuck you Fentone”.

The relative peace and calm that Danny had effectively settled over everyone by being a cheeky little shit, gets disturbed by a crash and following explosion. Resulting in tons of screaming students and adults. Danny sighs, “oh for fucks sake”, before grumbling into his hand, “you’d think by now everyone would be used to explosions and shit. But no, they still lose their shit”. Danny then can’t help but bark out a laugh. As two lightly smoking GIW agents come running, from the direction of a billowing pillar of smoke. Danny stands up and smirks at the men, “what? Did you think damning our town to death wasn’t enough of a burn so you burned yourselves for good measure?”.

“We’ll have you know, that, we had found a way to rid this town of all its ecto-entities”, the wheezing agent glances around, “this, wasn’t supposed to happen though”.

Danny laughs, “wow, big surprise, real shocker, absolutely bewildering. Who would have thought the GIW would screw up with something ghostly?”.

Valerie mutters, “everyone”, before pointing at and snapping at the two agents, “why do you guys have to mess up every single thing you do? Like, look at this mess? What did you even hope to accomplish?”, shaking her head aggressively and attempting to stomp up to the men but getting stopped by Mr. Lancer. Valerie snaps at them again while trying to shake off Mr. Lancer, “what did you idiots even do? How the hell do you send an entire town into the freaking Ghost Zone?!?”.

Danny chuckles at Valerie, though frowns at the agents, “it has happened before though. So this isn’t exactly a first”. Valerie snaps her head around to him, “a ghost did that, that’s different. Ghosts fuck shit up by their very nature”. Danny rolls his eyes while the second agent responds, “we were attempting to rid this place of such nuisances, using ecto particle homing dust”. The first agent nods, “designed to send anything ecto back to the Ghost Zone”.

Danny groans before laughing at their sheer stupidity, “you mean to say, you used something that teleports anything ghostly into the Ghost Zone...on a town...that is...coated and bathed and infused and embedded, with ectoplasm”, laughing again, “of course the entire fucking place went to the dead side!”.

Both agents glare at him, before one speaks up, “you’re the Fenton boy, aren’t you?”, that agent shakes his head, “it only teleports things with sentient ectoplasm and things contaminated by latent ectoplasm. Not free-floating ectoplasm. General ecto-contaminated things and people shouldn’t have been affected!”.

Danny’s not sure if it would have been better if it only affected him, but this does make a ton more sense now. Seeing as Amity Park was a ghostly lair, his ghostly lair, and thus coated and filled with his latent ectoplasm. Raising an eyebrow and pointing at the men, “so ghosts, ghost items, and ghost lairs? Are you twats incapable of basic research? Maybe you should add some gray to your colour schemes, might encourage the development of some gray matter up in those bigoted heads of yours”.

“Of course that’s what it targets! That doesn’t explai-”. Danny cuts the agent off, “holy fuck, what rank are you two? I’d like to know just what level of stupid I’m dealing with here, that way I know how slowly I have to speak”.

“Daniel, that’s quite enough. While I’m aware your family, and thusly you, are highly ecto-knowledgeable; harassing government agents, who could help us, isn’t productive”, Mr. Lancer speaks while Danny rolls his eyes at him.

Both agents cross their arms, “agents L and G. We’re both beta class. Now if you have any information paramount to our situation, you’d be advised to give it to those of us who can make use of such knowledge”.

Danny sneers at them and gestures mockingly, “what? You? You couldn’t use the back half of a barn to herd braindead sheep, none the less actually fix this shit”, Danny waves off their glares, “but with that low rank that means that at least you’re not too stupid, and you’re young. So you couldn’t have been indoctrinated for too long. Anyway,”, Danny puts one hand on his hip and gestures to their surroundings and other people, “Amity Park, its buildings, its people, its pets, its damn air. All of it is coated and ecto-contaminated by latent ectoplasm and free-floating ectoplasm...This whole town is a ghostly lair, you dolts”.

Everyone gapes at Danny while Valerie whirls around and shouts incredulously, “WHAT!?!”. Mr. Lancer sputters, “are-are you quite certain about this Daniel?”. Danny nods while both agents shout, “that is hardly possible! Child! Ghosts can’t sustain themselves on earth! None the less establish an earth-based lair!”.

“You’re not wr-”, Danny gets cut off by a massive dragon ghost flat-out landing directly behind the two agents, causing both of them to jump into the air in shock. The ghost dragon lashes out its tail, batting both men into a wall. Danny groans, “great, idiots onto dragons. Lovely”.

While the ghost dragon breathes purple flames into the air at random Valerie jerks her head around, trying to figure out if anyone has any way to defend or fight; thoroughly annoyed when no one does and watching everyone fleeing or hiding all over the place. Well except some people who are frozen in place...and Danny, who’s just groaning loudly at the sky. Muttering to herself, “and like always I’m the only one close to capable”. Danny smirks, having easily heard her, “ouch, must you insult me so? I’ll have you know I am capable, of some things”.

After the ghost dragon slams down Its tail a little too close for comfort to the collection of humans, and starts slamming Its wings into buildings and the ground at random, the remaining humans begin to huddle together; with Mr. Lancer practically dragging Danny along. Valerie manages to tuck and roll out of the converging humans; while Danny goes wide-eyed, realising she intends to go full Red up in this shit. Blinking rapidly while multiple people gasp, as Valerie summons out her suit. She mutters all the while, “secrets aren't worth death”, smirking under her helmet, “besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything to be ashamed of”, before gliding off to battle the ghost dragon.

Danny mutters, “fucking props to you, you crazy huntress”, before glancing at the GIW men. Tickled pink that they’re unconscious, and pretty sure Red is equally as pleased by that.

Everyone else, meanwhile, freaks out.

“WHAT THE FUCK!”.

“VALERIE!”.

“MS. GRAY! Do you have any idea how dangerous what you’ve been doing is!”.

“HOLY SHIT! My classmates a freaking ghost hunter!”.

“That’s hot....”.

Danny can’t help but sputter and cough at that last one he hears, muttering to himself as he sits on the ground lazily, “I mean, the guy’s not wrong”, while Red’s blasting off ecto-shots, Danny taps on his chin, “probably says something about me that my attempted murder is an attractive quality in someone. There’s probably a kink for that or some shit”, chuckling, “I’ll have to ask Tuck about that, creepy womanising fucker always knows bout that shit”.

Danny can’t help the slight proud smile as Red captures the ghost dragon in her own thermos, before he looks out to the surrounding Ghost Zone. Grumbling, “this many humans, gonna attract more ghosties”. Danny groans before planting his hands into the grass, in between his crossed legs. As discretely as he can, Danny pushes and manipulates his latent ectoplasm in the environment and the Ghost Zone’s ectoplasm to slowly form a ghost shield around the town. The forming shield, unsurprisingly, doesn’t go unnoticed; promptly causing more freakouts.

“OH GOD!”.

“WHAT THE FUCK!...AGAIN!”.

“Are we being attacked?!?!!”.

“GREAT GATSBY!”.

Red’s staring up and mutters, “that...that’s just a ghost shield...”, just as Maddie comes running over to the group. Mr. Lancer was about to be soothed by Vale-The Red Huntresses words, until he caught sight of Maddie’s deeply concerned face. Maddie shouts, “that’s not a hunter made shield! Don’t be fooled!”. Danny mutters at the ground and his hands, “well fuck, there goes one explanation”.

Maddie runs up to the principal, “is everyone here? Everyone safe? Danny?”. The principal looks around quickly before nodding, eliciting a relieved sigh from Maddie before she spins around to face the group, “alright everyone! Just stay together while us Fenton’s figure out who, or more likely what, is making the shield and why! You all just wait for your families!”.

While Danny grumbles about being offhandedly called a ‘what’. Dash sneers, “does that include every Fenton. Cause I certainly ain’t putting any faith in a wimp”. Danny would glare but he easily hears a few people mutter about how they’d take Danny over Jack any day. So it’s rather hard for Danny to actually be annoyed. Danny sneers right back, “the only one you put faith in, is yourself. And last I recall, you’ve been screaming like a little bitch”, Dash glares at him while Danny chuckles, “while I’m quite content. Not a worry to be found. Everything’s fucked, but that’s expected at this point. Everything’s always fucked”.

In truth Danny was fucking worried, his entire lair and all his humans were in the fucking Ghost Zone! And not intentionally. And punching the lights out of the ones responsible was both useless and pointless. Danny mutters, “seeing as their lights currently are ou- oh? Okay, never mind”, Danny groans and facepalms painfully hard as the two agents stagger upright.

Maddie points at them, having had her attention drawn to them because of their movement, “this is your doing, isn’t it?”. Danny stands up, unsure whether she’s talking about the shield or the fact that they’re in the Ghost Zone. But deciding that he’d rather have the attention off his shield, and the dumb fucks really were responsible for the Ghost Zone issue. Danny turns to her and speaks, “for the in Zone shit? Yup, we’ve already established that. Not particularly helpful info unless you’re just looking to mock them though”. Maddie nods curtly at Danny before turning to glare at the GIW men.

Danny’s chuckling at the glaring match until he spots Red, staring and gaping at him, out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head and raising an eyebrow, slightly concerned because fuck knows why she’s staring, “uh? What’s with the face? Did ya break a brain cell or have you realised I’m still a looker”. Dash snorts, “the only thing worth looking at you for, Fentit, is to better aim my fist at your face”. While Red sputters incoherently and waves her hands erratically at Danny.

Nearly everyone jumps as two ectopusses slam into the shield before flying off dazed. Red jerks and shakes her head, taking a step towards Danny; hardly believing what she’s seeing, “Danny you...you’re...this is”, glaring at him, “you’re doing this, it’s you. The shield, it’s you”.

Danny responds nervously, “uh, pretty sure I’m not a shield”, muttering to himself, “though I wind up being one too damn often”. A good portion of the group is shooting both of them worried and confused glances while Red shakes her head, “no. No, you’re making it. Made it? Whatever. What the fuck Danny?”.

Maddie finally pays attention to them now, “oh don’t be silly, humans can’t do that. Even one lone ghost couldn’t create a shield of this size”. Danny snorts but covers it up with a cough, since he knows she’s flat-out wrong. Pretty well all powerful ghosts could, it was just rather difficult and usually pointless. So why bother?

Red points at Danny and then taps on her helmet, a strange new visor visible, “I could, can, see it. The free-floating, er latent, ectoplasm. Around you. It’s wafting off you and swirling all around you, over you”, Red looks up at the shield while Danny twitches and mentally begs for her to shut up. Red continues speaking, still looking up, “it’s tied to and feeding into the shield. You’re doing it”. Red looks back at him, “and that’s not the onl-”.

Maddie cuts off Red as she speed walks cautiously towards Danny, who stands up quickly and holds his hands up in a surrendering motion, “sweetie? What does she mean? Surely you couldn’t be doing this?”, snapping her head around to Red, “let me see. The visor, let me see”. Red’s too stunned to refuse and slowly walks up, handing the extra attachment over to Maddie as she gapes at, the clearly awkward and uncomfortable, Danny.

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thehuskerrumble · 3 years

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A Walk in the Park

Holden 8 Higginsville 9

Walk this way

As Harry Caray used to say, “You can’t beat fun at the old ballpark.” Monday’s matchup versus the Holden Eagles was easily the most exciting game of the season. And believe me, this one had a little bit of everything. The Huskers battled back from a two run deficit, then a four run deficit, and finally a one run deficit in the seventh, before clinching the victory on a bases loaded walk-off. Not the over-the-fence variety, but a true four pitch, free pass, take your base walk-off. Whatever it takes man, a win is a win. There is no shame in the Husker game. Coach Figg has had his hands full as the team’s lack of depth, and mounting injuries, have forced him to constantly juggle his lineup and defensive positioning. I’ve never seen a team that has to move so many bodies depending on who is on the mound. But they are finding a way, and there is no lack of enthusiasm, and certainly no quit in this team.

Rumsey eating some innings

Mason Rumsey was on the bump, and probably gave the best performance of his high school career. He threw 107 pitches, and struck out 6 batters while giving Higginsville a much-needed 6 1/3 innings. Rumsey was charged with all 8 Eagle runs, but only one would go down as earned, due to some costly defensive miscues (see juggled defensive positioning above). The Eagles were gifted a two run lead in the first, thanks to another collision, and a blustery wind that was giving the Husker outfielders fits. Mason then only needed 7 pitches to retire the side in order in the second, thanks to some first pitch Holden swinging, and solid Higginsville defense. The Eagles were held scoreless again in the third, and then threatened to do more damage in the fourth, with bases loaded and only one out. But Rumsey buckled down and picked up back-to-back strikeouts against Holden’s number 8 and 9 hitters, keeping the score at 2-0 headed into the bottom of the fourth.

Nick Herrera legs out a two-bagger to start the party

The Huskers started a little slow offensively, scattering a couple of singles from Jace Kerley and Rumsey through the first few innings. But you could sort of get the sense that they were about to break out. There were several foul balls, and a ton of deep counts. Despite not scoring in the second inning, Kelan Ernst, Jackson Kouril, and Garrett Pemberton pieced together 3 straight 8 pitch at bats. Quality plate appearances almost always lead to late inning runs, as high school pitching rosters are usually not that deep. Higginsville finally broke through in the bottom half of the fourth, when Nick Herrera led off with a frozen rope to right center, for a leadoff double. One pitch later, Cade Limback swapped places with Herrera, lacing a double of his own into roughly the same part of the outfield, driving home the Husker’s first run. Two batters later, Jackson Kouril hit a sharp ground ball through the shortstop and into center field, knotting the game up at two apiece. (Wade says it was an E6, so no hit or RBI, but I’ve got Jackson’s back on this one). Holden ended the inning by turning a nice 1-6-3 double play.

Don’t call it a comeback

The Husker lead was short lived, as Holden used a single, a walk, and two errors to score two more in the top of the fifth. Then Higginsville was blanked in their half, due to two deep drives by Kerley and Rumsey being run down by great outfield defense. But it was deja vu all over again in the top of the sixth, as the Eagles plated two more off of defensive gaffs. It was Holden 6, Higginsville 2, and time was running out on the Huskers. But the blue and gold were not ready to throw in the towel just yet, and they proceeded to put together one of the strangest rallies I have seen in a high school game. Camden Russell led off the inning, and for the 3 billionth time this season, he hit a hard ground ball to short, and took advantage of his speed by racing to first base. Herrera then came up to bat and floated a first pitch, bloop single just onto the grass into right field (a first pitch that he was supposed to be taking). Limback then hit a hard chopper to third that was mishandled by the Eagle defender, loading the bases with no outs. Coach Figg turned to the dugout, bringing in Blake Mauzey to run for Cade, despite the objections from the big guy who had swiped his first bag of the season back in the second. Kelan Ernst then smoked a first pitch single into center field, advancing everyone one base, as Figg elected not to gamble with nobody out. 6-3 Holden. Next up was Kouril, as he did his job by lofting a sac fly to the outfield, driving in Herrera. 6-4 Holden. Following a Husker strikeout, the Eagles made a pitching change, leading by two, with two outs in the inning. Micah Graham was the first to face the new pitcher, taking four pitches for what would be his second biggest free pass of the game. The bases were once again juiced for the third time in the inning. Jace Kerley was up next, and his patience at the plate paid off, walking on 5 pitches, and forcing Mauzey home from third. 6-5 Holden. Then it was Rumsey’s turn as he was first pitch swinging, hitting a ball hard enough into left field that the Husker runners were only able to move up one base. 6-6 Tied ballgame. Russell was up next, but he would never get a chance to see a pitch, as Mason Rumsey was caught napping on a great pickoff move to first. In fact, he was fooled so badly, that he just froze, and never made an attempt to get back to first. And this was great news for the Huskers, as he probably would have been thrown out by at least a step. Instead, the whole world stopped spinning for a brief second, and Rumsey made a move towards second. Graham was also put into motion, sidestepping down the third baseline towards home, waiting on the Eagle defender to make a decision on where to make his throw. Holden’s hesitation was taking just a little too long for Graham, so he forced the action by racing towards the plate. The throw was accurate, and on time, but a good slide by Micah knocked the ball out of the catcher’s grasp, and sent it rolling several feet away. Then, the always opportunistic Jace Kerley, attempted to capitalize on the confusion and cloud of dust, by breaking for home, right behind Graham. The Eagle defender located the errant ball, and quickly tossed to the catcher who was covering home for the second play at the plate in just a few short seconds. Jace was called out on the play, ending the inning, but not before Higginsville took the lead for a wild 5 run inning. 7-6 Good Guys. There were roughly ten to twenty umpires who “respectfully” disagreed with the final call at home plate. In fact, they were so respectfully disagreeing, that the actual home plate umpire suggested that he may remove Coach Figg from the game if the fanbase got anymore respectful. *wink* But wait, there’s more!

Kelan keeping it close

It would be too easy if Higginsville held the lead in the top of the seventh, so they decided to add another paragraph to the recap. Rumsey came back out for the start of the final frame, sandwiching a strikeout between a hit-by-pitch and a walk. Limback then made a brief appearance, walking his only batter on four pitches, with the Eagles tying the game on a wild pitch. 7-7 Tied up again. There were now runners at second and third with only one out. Coach Figg then turned to Kelan Ernst to try and stop the bleeding. Kelan came out dealing, striking out his first batter on 6 pitches. But the final strike got away from the catcher, and the runner on third raced home on the throw down to first. Ernst then induced a comebacker to the mound to end the inning. 8-7 Holden. The air was once again taken out of the Husker sails, as they headed towards the bottom of the seventh, trailing the Eagles.

That’s a wrap

Remember all those quality at bats in the early innings? Well, this is where they finally start to pay off. Camden Russell led off, and lifted a fastball to left field for the first out of the inning. Herrera then stepped in and worked an 8 pitch at bat for his first free pass of the game. Limback followed with a 5 pitch walk, and Holden was forced to bring in their third pitcher of the game. Depth is an issue at the high school level, and pitcher number three struggled to find the zone. He proceeded to walk Kelan Ernst, and then Jackson Kouril, forcing in the tying run. 8-8 Tied Again! The Holden pitcher then pulled himself together, and picked up a strikeout swinging, for the second out of the inning. Then Micah Graham stepped to the plate for a chance to be a hero. The suspense was palpable, and it was so quiet at Fairground Park that you could hear a mouse peeing on cotton. (Not really, that is my favorite quote that the Marine Corps drill instructor’s ever gave me, and I’ve just been itching for an opportunity to share it with you.) Anyway, Graham saw four straight pitches outside the zone, and the Huskers were able to walk away with their second victory of the season. Thank you coaches and players, that was a fun one.

Camden says he hates the pictures of him running to first, so here’s another

Keys to Victory:

After suffering some tough early season losses, it would have been very easy for this team to roll over and play dead when they were once again facing an early deficit. But instead, they came from behind, not once, not twice, but three times to take home the victory. This says a ton about the character of the dugout.

Is it too early to give Jace a Platinum Glove

Web Gems:

Jace Kerley continues to put a stranglehold on this category. Only this time he was doing it from the shortstop position. In the top of the fifth, Kerley ranged all the way from short to behind the second base bag, and picked off a grounder that seemed destined for centerfield. He then made a difficult throw look easy, firing to Cade Limback for the 6-3 putout.

Micah takes the mound in the JV game

Rumblin’ Stumblin’ Crash Report:

After taking a game off, Micah Graham was involved in another collision. This time it was a pop fly on the infield, as he got up close and personal with Mason Rumsey between the pitcher’s mound and home plate.

Good Sport:

After taking a beating by fans on both sides of Fairground, the home plate umpire was still in good enough spirits to pause for a photo op. You can’t beat fun at the old ballpark.

Box Score:

JV Game

Holden: a bunch Higginsville: far less

Frank the Tank

Up Next:

Tuesday, April 6th, 4:30 p.m., the Huskers host the Knob Noster Panthers at Fairground Park

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vizhi0n · 6 years

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Sawney - Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

So we’re getting into the fucked up shit, so pls read the warnings From here on out its gonna be bad. So yeah. In honor TWD night heres the next chapter.

Warnings: Torture, violence, rape. (I’m going to start tagging these with trigger warnings as well.)

Homies: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @lucifers-trash-stash @genevievedarcygranger @superprincesspea @i-am-negan-trash @crzcorgi @kellyn1604 @mypapawinchester @my-achilles--heel @jasoncrouse @jeffreydeanneganstrash @ladylorelitanyfanfiction @kijilinn @gremlinfuck @melodicdolls @embracetheapocalypsewithme @lovingzombiechaos @heartfulloffandoms @strangersangel9 @hannibalssweaters @backseat-negan @manawhaat @mcnegan @darkangel66a @wolfhart18 @negans-network

“We’re heading back up in twenty. Everyone grab your things.”

Mason was giving the orders. The huddled group of survivors — just under thirty of them — obeyed. They moved past Desa and Jack in waves, keeping their voices down as they headed down the tunnels and towards the Estate.

Go with them.

The people were indifferent to Negan’s screams. They kept their heads down, covering the ears of the children.

“Jack,” Desa gripped her brothers hand. The smaller boy stared up at her in confusion, looking anxious. “Go find your friends, alright? Stay close to them.”

“I want to come with you—”

“No, you don’t. Trust me. I’m going to see if I can help Father,” Desa said firmly. “That man was my catch, so he’s my responsibility.”

Jack’s lower lip quivered, but he didn’t object. Desa ruffled his hair, watching him dart after the group. The sewer had filtered out, the sound of multiple footsteps getting softer and softer. Desa knelt over, hands on her knees as she attempted to steady her breathing before making her way towards the storage room, heart pounding. Negan’s screams had tinkered away into whimpers, and she had to mentally prepare herself before opening the door.

The room reeked of urine. She immediately saw the wet patch on the front of Negan’s pants — he’d peed himself. The blackened, oozing marks on his bare torso were clear evidence of what had happened. The pliers were in Father’s hand and Desa could see the blood and the strips of flesh, shriveled from the heat of the blowtorch. Negan was still strung up, and he was twitching, thrashing was a wild animal against his restraints.

While Father just watched.

“Father?” Desa croaked. She stood at attention, trying not to give anything away. As calmly and evenly as possible she said, “Would like me to assist you in moving him?”

“No. He’s staying down here,” Father replied. “The cellar is almost full, and he hasn’t…he hasn’t transformed yet. He’s not ready.”

“Father—”

He was ignoring her. Clicking those bloody pliers together while contemplating his next trick. Desa steeled herself, speaking louder.

“Father, I know that you and Mother both are against any sort of negotiation with outside groups but…we have leverage, here. But only if he remains alive.”

The pliers stopped clicking.

Negan lifted his head. Desa saw him glare daggers at the man before him, teeth bared in a silent, pained growl.

Leave, Desa, leave. You stupid, stupid fool.

“What do you suggest?”

“Keep him here, just as you suggested. But keep him stable. His community — the Saviors — they know where the Estate is. But they don’t know about this place.”

“If you wish to keep your toy alive, you will have to tend to him. He is your catch,” Father rolled his eyes, backing away. “I will speak to Mother regarding…negotiations.”

Desa let out a small sigh. Father placed the pliers back in he cabinet, grabbing a dirty hand towel and wiping himself off.

Negan’s belt was on the floor, his fly open. He was still hanging there, bleeding, body in a state of suspended shock. Desa moved slowly, adjusting his restraints to that he could sit on his knees, arms spread. He said nothing to her, just stared at the wall, jaw slack.

“Did Mother invite you to our bedroom?”

“Yes,” Desa replied softly, tightening Negan’s bonds. Father came to a stop behind her, arms crossed over his chest.

“And are you joining us?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Exactly. Mother and I provide for you,” he knelt. Desa felt his hand glide across his shoulder. “And we provide for everyone here. Everyone has basic needs. Copulation is one of them.”

Desa’s eyes shifted towards Negan’s pants. She felt the urge to snap at Father.

Did you fuck Negan before or after he pissed himself?

“Yes, sir. It is.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight.”

He left, wiping off whatever blood remained on his pants. The iron door swung shut and Desa dipped her head, gnawing furiously on her lower lip as she knelt before Negan’s battered frame.

“Fuck you,” Negan spat.

“I just bought you time. He would have killed you or put you in the cellar. And if you were in the cellar, I would have killed you. Put you out of your misery.”

“So fucking generous,” Negan’s tongue looked swollen, and he was having trouble even speaking. “We have very different fucking ideas of what that word means.”

“I’m not supposed to be generous. I’m not allowed,” Desa cringed. “If I could give you more, I would.”

“Why?”

“Why would I give you more? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just in a giving mood lately. Maybe…I feel bad for you. I feel bad for them all. But I don’t do anything. All the death and torture, it’s on me. Because I didn’t do anything. But I am now — I’m going to try.”

“You can start by putting a bullet through that sick fucks head,” Negan spat. “Kill him, problem solved.”

“If I kill him, my little brother will be next. Listen, Negan, I’ll do what I can for you. I will. I swear. But not on my brothers life. I can’t.”

“How old is he? Your brother?”

“Eleven. He’ll be twelve next week. We think.”

“Is he your only sibling?”

Desa ducked her head, glancing around. The silence hung heavy, a palpable blanket spread across the entire room. Finally, Desa said softly, “No. It was…me, him, and my older sister. Sister went first. Dad put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger because he was a coward. Mom…she kept us together for a while. But things happen. People have agendas. She’s a corpse somewhere.”

“Shit. Sounds rough,” Negan let out a breath. “I don’t want to even fucking know how you stumbled across this group.”

“I didn’t. They found me.”

Negan shrugged, rattling his restraints. Desa did her best to end the conversation, standing. She stared at him, gnawing on her lower lip.

“I’ll get water. And something for you to eat.”

“You’re on duty, now?”

“You’re my catch. I found you, so I have to deal with you. It’s supposed to be a good thing,” Desa shrugged. “Rules of the house.”

“You ever thought about packing up and leaving the fucking house?”

“Plenty. But I am my fathers daughter — a coward.”

The moment everyone was settled, it was back to work.

Nothing had been damaged — the reinforced fences were still standing. The toy train set Jack had been working on had been left untouched, right where it had been left. Everything was the same. Or, at least, they were pretending it was.

The uneasy feeling in Desa’s stomach had yet to leave. It would stay, she reckoned, until Negan was out of her life for good.

The Saviors had scattered, displaced by the sudden ambush of biters. Desa had overheard Amy state that she and some others had confiscated the few cars that had been left behind. It would take a while for the surviving Saviors to get their bearings and come back with even more firepower than before. And it would take even longer, Desa suspected, without Negan.

We have time.

The day droned on, and Desa found herself getting into the same routine as always, with a few alterations. She’d patrol the fence, awaiting a scavenging order while, in her spare time, she’d go and check on Negan. She make sure his wounds remained uninfected, and she’d dump the waste bucket placed between his legs. A majority of the time he wasn’t awake, or he just refused to speak and instead stared her down.

“I won’t be back until later tonight,” Desa informed him. She was dressed in the proper attire, the clothes hidden beneath the heavy jacket she wore. One always had to get dolled up and pretty when presenting themselves in Mother and Father’s bedroom. It was more of a custom than a requirement.

“You got a hot fucking date?”

“No,” Desa replied quickly, surprised that he’d even answered her. His hair was slick with sweat, rivulets rolling down his bare chest. Each word he spoke was laced with pain.

“I’ll really fucking miss your company. Shit keeps me sane,” Negan licked his lips. “Why don’t you skip out on whatever dumb shit you have to do—”

“I can’t. I have to go please Mother and Father,” Desa shivered, looking away. “I wish I could. You’re better company than both of them.”

“What do you mean ‘please’ them?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“Are you talking about fucking? Because you better not be talking about fucking,” Negan tugged at his restraints, baring his teeth.

“I am. I don’t want it, but…I have an obligation. I can’t disobey them or else Jack’s head will end up on a pike, or worse, in the cellar.”

“What’s so fucking bad about the cellar?” Negan leaned forward. “Fuckin’ enlighten me.”

“It’s where the bad people go. They don’t die, they just…change. They stay down there until they’re needed again.”

“Is that where I was going to fucking go?”

“Yeah. Probably. If Father doesn’t accidentally kill you, first.”

Negan let out a sigh, murmuring a few curses to himself. “I’m going to kill that fucker when I get out of here. Hey — is Lucille somewhere safe?”

“The bat? Yeah. Father put it somewhere. Probably in storage.”

“If you see her tonight, use her. Take her and bash that fuckers skull in.”

“Tempting. But I already told you why I won’t,” Desa stood, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself.

“Fine. Fucking fine. If you won’t, I fucking will. And I mean that shit. When I get out of here I’m going to kill every single one of them. I might just kill you, too. I’m not fucking dying in here. I’m fucking not.”

#vizhi0nw #negans thirst squad #tw: rape #tw: torture

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outstanding-ocs · 7 years

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// hi! this is abt an oc i submitted a long time ago named Isaiah!! i originally wrote this bc it’s really hard for me to describe him without going into extreme detail nd now i want to share it bc it’s probably the best piece of writing i’ve ever done. i hope it’s alright!! //

tws for death, some cursing, self-hate, and injury

You hate the cards you’ve been dealt. You could have been someone great. You should have been someone great. You should have been a banker, like your father. You should have had a normal life. You were nobility. Your fiancée was nobility. Your entire family line was nobility. And yet, here you are. Laying in the grass, trying to nurse your bleeding wounds and not pass out from the pain. You should be in Heaven. You should be an angel. You should be laying on fluffy fucking cushions and having life handed to you on a silver platter. But, instead, you’re escaping a battlefield, watching both allies and enemies get hurt because of you. And the worst part is, this is a normal day for you. You don’t bat an eye anymore if you see a friend’s arm get broken. You can’t feel anything anymore when you hear an ally’s cries of agony. You’re numb. Yeah. Numb. That’s one way to put it. To be fair, you got yourself into this mess. If you could just control your anger like a normal fucking person could, you wouldn’t have gotten baited into the brawl. You shouldn’t have let yourself get worked up like that. You shouldn’t have thrown the first punch. You shouldn’t have gotten others into this petty fight. But you did, and now you’re paying the price. It’s all your fault. It’s always your fault. You’re always the one who hits first. And on the rare cases you’re not, you’re always the one to continue it. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t control it. It’s wired in your brain. You’ve tried everything. Stress balls, deep breathing, having someone calm you down. None of it worked. You still have a very hard time controlling your own anger. It’s so pathetic. You’re so pathetic. You let out a quiet laugh as you lean back on your arms, turning your gaze towards the night sky and ignoring the white hot flames that shoot up your arms from the pressure being applied so harshly while you’re already injured. You could float or fly, yes, but you deserve this. You deserve these searing flames. Pain is nothing to you. You have, both literally and metaphorically, been through Hell and back. You’ve felt it all. You’re numb to pain. Numb. The stars are beautiful tonight, you think. You’re in a very rural area, so space is more obvious than usual. The beautiful pinks and purples and blues all swirled together, surrounded by the tiny, twinkling white dots that are stars. It’s amazing how such tiny things could hold such immense power as to completely explode when they die. For all you know, every single star in front of you could be dead. They could all just be black dwarfs. They could have exploded, and you would never know. You sigh. Space is the one thing that always stays the same. It’s the one thing you can always count on. Space is always there. You’re not just going to wake up one day and, poof. Space is gone. Sorry, no more stars. It just…doesn’t happen. Space is one out of only two things that can calm you completely. It’s all you can rely on now. Space and Elvira. That’s all you have. Not even Quinn can control you most of the time. All you can rely on are the love of your “life” and the stars. Life. Oh, how many memories that one word brings. Memories of screams, mostly your own. Screams of fury, screams of fear. Memories of tears. Tears of terror, tears of sadness, tears of anger. Destroyed rooms. Overturned tables. Broken glass. The memories of embraces, both warm and cold. Calming embraces. Loving, nurturing, comforting. Controlling embraces that would pin you down, keep you in one place as you struggled and cried and screamed and tried to hit and kick. The inability to pull away. It was for the best. It was for the best, Isaiah. It was the only option. The only way. The memories of faraway voices, trying to bring you back. Faraway cries, yells, screams. Hands that felt like air that pulled you in close, stroked your hair, touched your face. Airy hands that you didn’t want, didn’t deserve, but wasn’t in the state of mind to protest against them. The memory of her voice. That calming voice she always used. Quiet and sensitive, she was. Caring and compassionate. Loving and endearing. So many adjectives you could use for just one person. She tried, the poor thing. She really did do her best. You were so lucky to have her. You didn’t deserve her kindness, her support. You didn’t deserve her. Maybe that’s why he did it. Maybe that’s why the man took her from you. Maybe that’s why he made sure you could still hear the gunshot, feel it to this day. Maybe that’s why he did it on your special day. Maybe… You shut your eyes tightly. Stop. Stop that. No. Remember something else. Anything else. Anything but that day. You’re over her. You’ve been over her for a very long time. So why does it still hurt you? Why do you still feel physical pain at the thought of her that day? You’re over her. You’re over her. …Maybe it’s best to just stop remembering for now. You let out a gasp of pain as you stand, shocked at the sudden sharp pains that race up your legs. Damn, they really messed you up. They probably would’ve killed you if you hadn’t ran. That’s the one thing you enjoy about being a Demon: no one takes any shame in fleeing. You just wish you hadn’t underestimated your foes. But how were you supposed to know one of them had fire? You don’t even try to attempt flying right now; that would only cause more strain on your body. Instead, you brush yourself off and start walking. You don’t really care where this direction will take you; you’ve been here already. You’ve been here several times. You’ve been almost everywhere in this country by now. But where else can you go? It’s not like you’re going to be stationed anywhere else any time soon. Ever since you were revived, you’ve wanted to go home. To Britain. Just to see how much has changed, see what everything is like now. It wouldn’t take very long; the entirety of the UK is pretty damn small. You chuckle, bowing your head. Every building and person from your memories of life feel so small compared to now. You were always in one small space, either in one small room or having small space to move around in due to crowds. The buildings were small, the people were small. Everything is small in Britain! You actually manage to make yourself laugh a little and keep a small smile on your face for more than a few seconds. It’s been a while since you’ve had a laugh, what with all the drama going on lately. All the wars and death and fighting. Not just in your world, but with the humans too. There’s been a ton more souls to collect with how violent all of the humans have gotten as of late. Almost all of the Reapers are overworked, the poor things. Sure, you adore seeing people get the justice they deserve in death and you do like participating in the violence every once in a while, but this is just getting ridiculous. To be fair, it’s still all of your doing. Maybe not you specifically, but your kind is at fault. The second that Demons and Angels begin their conflicts, the entire planet Earth feels it. The more you fight, the more tense the humans and animals get. The conflicts between you two cause the planet to start their own. But it’s not really like God or Satan are going to listen to that argument, are they? No, they’re too wound up in their own petty conflicts that end the exact same way every god damn time to even notice how their subjects or even the people they’re supposed to be watching over are feeling or how they’re doing or… You cut yourself off mid-thought. You’re getting worked up again, you tell yourself. You just now notice how your body has grown tense and your pace has slowed down dramatically. Oh no, please don’t say this means that one of those is about to come on. You lean against the nearest tree, ignoring the pain it causes in your shoulder, and try to relax yourself by taking a few deep breaths and trying to make any tight muscles loosen up. It seems to work for a while, and you let out a slow sigh of relief. That second you’re relaxed, of course, is when the nausea and lightheartedness kicks in. Lights start flashing in the corners of your eyes and you take that as a sign to sit back down, prepared for what’s going to come. The left side of your head begins throbbing and pulsing, gradually moving down your neck and causing dull pains there too. You groan in pain and curl up, pressing your legs to your chest and laying your head against your knees. The world starts spinning and the flashes of light start getting more intense and frequent, only adding to your nausea. You close your eyes and bury your hands in your hair, just waiting for it to be over. The wind and rustling leaves and crickets chirping is more annoying than it’s ever been and you just feel like screaming. The pain and the aggravation is something you’re accustomed to by now but still hard to ignore. You just sit there, enduring the pain. You’ve felt worse, for sure, but this is the fourth migraine in just this month alone, with many more in both the past and the future. It’s more of a nuisance than anything by now. You always go through so much pain and suffering for your Lord. And for what? What do you get out of this? What do you achieve? What is your reward? Nothing. You gave up everything just for some meager power. You were weak. And you still are. And now you’re paying the price for that weakness. You hate the cards you’ve been dealt. And you also just hate yourself.

#aww poor baby :(#writing #oc stories #queue #submission

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gushingaboutgames · 7 years

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Yakuza 0

I’m not going to mince words. I fucking love the Yakuza series. With the exception of Yakuza 3, I have played every game in the series that had made its way to the west (yes, even Dead Souls, I like zombie games, shut up). People like to rag on Sega, saying they’re a shit company because their recent Sonic games are a parade of crap, a sentiment that does have some merit. This is the series I hold up as an example that Sega still has it. I was talking about Yakuza with a good friend of mine, and even though she hasn’t played any of the games, even she recognizes that it’s one of the biggest labors of love in gaming.

(note to self: gotta get TL a Yakuza game sometime in the very near future)

It is thus, with a great deal of joy, that I can say Yakuza 0 is perhaps the best game in the series to date, an exemplar of everything that makes the Yakuza series great.

(A bit of warning beforehand: there may be some minor spoilers for the Yakuza series ahead. I’ll avoid the major spoilers, but nonetheless, proceed with caution.)

The game takes place in late 1988, near the end of a period of Japanese history known as the “Bubble Economy”. After World War II, Japan’s economy was in shambles, but with a bit of help from the US, the Japanese economy made the mother of all economic rebounds and went on to become the second largest industry in the world, overtaking others in engineering and consumer products.

With this economic boom came money. Tons of money. Volumes of money. Japanese citizens had cash to burn as the economic bubble grew to epic proportions. Sadly, the good times would not last: the bubble burst in the 1990′s, and Japan has suffered from a recession that it continues to struggle with to this day.

It is in this time of prosperity that Yakuza 0 begins. Being a prequel, this represents an excellent point for new fans to jump in, as no knowledge of the previous games is necessary (though it enhances the experience, natch).

Yakuza 0 is a tale of two cities, and two gangsters. The first, coming out of the Kamurocho district in Tokyo, is series protagonist Kazuma Kiryu, a fresh-faced 20-year-old underling in the Dojima Family, one of the most influential (and infamous) factions in the criminal syndicate known as the Tojo Clan. One cold December night, Kiryu finishes shaking down some poor schmuck in debt to a loan shark, then meets up with his best friend and blood brother Akira Nishikiyama for a night out on the town, drinking and singing karaoke before hitting up a cozy little ramen shop.

The fun times come to an abrupt halt when a news bulletin breaks: there’s been a murder in Kamurocho! What makes this different from the other gang-related violence in the city is the fact that the deceased was the same person Kiryu shook down mere hours earlier! Worse still, the body was found on an empty lot in the center of a redevelopment project that the Tojo Clan has been eyeing for quite a while: a dead body and police investigation keeps them from getting their hands on it, and that makes the leadership in the Tojo Clan very cranky.

Not helping matters is a conspiracy among the top brass in the Tojo Clan to usurp the position of the clan’s captain, held by Kiryu’s sponsor and father-figure Shintaro Kazama. If Kiryu was responsible for the murder, it would reflect poorly on Kazama. As a result, the clan’s lieutenants are gunning to have Kiryu take the fall for the murder he did not commit. It’s a race against time as Kiryu tries desperately to clear his name and keep himself and Kazama out of the Tojo Clan’s crosshairs.

Meanwhile, in Sotenbori, Osaka, we have Goro Majima, a 24-year-old gangster from back before he went off the deep end and became a nutjob. He’s living the dream, managing a successful cabaret and raking in dough like a baker in a neon-lit bakery. It is not his dream that he is living, however, for Sotenbori is actually little more than a gilded cage to Majima.

A few years prior, Majima conspired with his sworn brother Taiga Saejima to take down the leaders of one of the Tojo Clan’s rivals. A Tojo Clan higher-up didn’t take this well, and detained Majima while Saejima took the fall and was sentenced to death row. For his trouble, Majima lost his left eye, was exiled from the Tojo and given over to Osaka’s Omi Alliance, where he was tortured for a year before being released on a heavily-supervised work release program, managing the afformentioned cabaret to make enough money to essentially buy his way back into the Tojo.

Eventually, however, a shortcut presents itself: Majima’s handler is willing to put a good word in for him if he is willing to carry out a little bit of wetwork, an assassination. One life in exchange for a ticket back into the Tojo Clan? How hard can it be?

When he realizes his target is actually a defenseless blind woman, though, he hesitates. Does he have it in him to take her life? Is he prepared to face the consequences for not carrying through with the assassination? Can he find some way out of this quandary with his life, and his sanity?

The stories of the Yakuza series have never been anything less than solid. I can’t really talk about it without spoiling it, but it will tug at your heartstrings and keep you on the edge of your seat.

The visuals of Yakuza 0 are a treat, as well: the cities of Kamurocho and Sotenbori look amazing on the PS4, both of them neon-lit playgrounds with a gritty, dingy feel to them. While the graphics may not always be perfect (some textures are a bit blurry and many NPC models look a bit jagged and antiquated), they are never painful to look at. The sound department is no slouch either, with music that is a joy to listen to and voice acting that is always on point.

Of course, a game that looks and sounds good would not be worth a damn if it wasn’t fun to play. Thankfully, Yakuza 0 exemplifies fun.

Kamurocho and Sotenbori are brimming with things to do and sidequests to complete. These substories, distinct from the game’s main plot, are always a treat to engage in, featuring bizarre stories and characters that contrast with the campaign’s hard-hitting crime drama. To name a few examples:

-Kiryu meets a yanki band (a mix of punk rock and ‘50s greaser fashion) who are much too mild-mannered, and must teach them how to be hardcore to impress their fans.

-Kiryu gets swept up pretending to be a TV producer after the real producer was chased off by an overbearing director.

-Kiryu volunteers to help a young boy buy a dirty magazine from a vending machine.

-Majima volunteers to play a pretend boyfriend for a young woman who is tired of her father trying to arrange her marriage.

-Majima must infiltrate a Scientology-inspired cult to rescue a woman’s brainwashed daughter.

-Majima has to help a high school student retrieve his pants from a bully, who turns out to be Yakuza 2′s Ryuji Goda back when he was in grade school.

There are dozens more, but all of them are fun to partake in.

Those sidequests, as well as simply walking the mean streets, may lead to getting into a brawl with some unsavory characters, and combat has thankfully always been one of Yakuza’s strongest points. This remains true in Yakuza 0, which features challenging battles against gangsters and thugs. Each character has three fighting styles they can switch between on the fly: Kiryu has a balanced “Brawler” style, a fast-paced “Rush” boxing style, and a slow but powerful “Beast” style that weaponizes anything not bolted to the ground. Meanwhile, Majima has the deadly “Thug” style, a baseball bat-centric “Slugger” style, and an insane multi-hitting super-stylish “Breaker” style (my personal favorite). Each style has its own strengths and weaknesses, but all of them are practical and fun to use. All of them also have their own unique “Heat” moves that are absolutely brutal, but satisfying to pull of.

In line with the game’s theme of economic prosperity, enemies practically bleed money when you batter them: it’s not unheard of to rake in at least a cool few hundred Gs in per fight. You’re gonna need that cash, too: there is no experience points or levels in Yakuza 0. Instead, you purchase upgrades for your fighting styles, and they get expensive as you make your way through each skill tree, with the highest upgrades costing hundreds of millions of yen, if not billions.

This, of course, means you’ll need to find ways to make money beyond simply beating it out of street punks. One way is by finding and helping citizens being harassed by bad guys. Helping them out gets you high quality items, some of which you can sell at pawn shops for wads of cash. Another is by challenging Mr. Shakedown, a burly buster who wonders the streets shaking down anyone who crosses him. Losing to him means you will lose all of your cash, but if you can beat him, you’ll earn a metric fuckton of money (including any money you lost to him before).

About halfway through the game, you also get a chance to engage in side businesses to further pad your wallet. Kiryu becomes the leader of a real estate agency, and is tasked with purchasing properties and collecting their profits while hiring managers to maximize their profits and security to ensure business goes smoothly. Majima, meanwhile, becomes the manager of a cabaret club, a mainstay of previous Yakuza games, but not as ubiquitous in the 80s as in later in the series chronology. Here, Majima must train hostesses and keep up with customer demands to make a profit. While Majima’s business venture doesn’t have the raw money output as Kiryu’s, it is more engaging and fun. That’s not to say Kiryu’s real estate business is without merit: there is a fair amount of strategy involved in hiring the right people to maximize profits.

All work and no play makes for dull gangsters, though. Thankfully, this is where another large strength of the Yakuza series comes into play: minigames! There is no shortage of ways to burn your money.

There are arcades in Sotenbori and Kamurocho, and they have classic Sega arcade games on display. My inner 12-year-old reveled at the chance to play Space Harrier again since Shenmue, with OutRun also taking more than its fair share of my money. Completing certain sidequests also unlocks Super Hang-On and Fantasy Zone, so there is variety as far as retro gaming goes.

But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. One new attraction for Kiryu is the telephone club, a unique dating service in Japan. The game plays out similar to an arcade shooter, where Kiryu must hold the girl’s attention by aiming at and hitting the proper phrases to increase her affection and ultimately ask her out. It’s a lot harder than it sounds: the correct phrases are often hard to hit, and until you get some practice, you’ll often end up accidentally asking girls about their baby ferrets rather than their best features.

Another unique outfit in Kamurocho is an underground women’s wrestling ring, where you can bet money on the outcome of fights between buxom battlers. The battles play out like rock-paper-scissors, and are high-risk high-reward.

There are also disco clubs, which feature a rhythm/puzzle game where you have to move an avatar on a dance floor before moving them over spaces with a face button on it. Again, not as easy as it sounds, but still very fun, and the music is a treat to listen to.

Finally, among the new attractions is “Pocket Circuit”, a slot car racing tournament wherein you can customize your own little race car and race for prizes and fame. There are tons of parts to use, some purchased from stores, others found in the world.

Aside from those, there are many other mainstays of the series that return and are still fun to play: karaoke, gambling, underground fighting tournaments, fishing, darts, pool, and so on. You will never be lacking in ways to amuse yourself.

My love of the Yakuza series, and Yakuza 0 in particular, cannot be overstated. I recommend this game to everyone, series veterans and newcomers alike, action game fans, Japanese game fans, and anyone who enjoys good stories, good gameplay, and fun in general.

#yakuza #yakuza 0 #review #video games

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