#and the name of some legendary hero’s got nothing on family calling you home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

takingchences · 7 months

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ultraviolet pt. 3 - BAKUGOU

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + face claim

After a few more exercises, the fitness test was officially over.

"All right, time to give you your results. I've ranked you all from best to worst. You should probably have a good idea of your standing already. I'll just pull up the whole list. It's not worth going over each individual's score."

Momo came in first place, then Shoto, with Bakugou ranked third. Sana found her name in the seventh slot, right above Kirishima's and Mina's. I did it, Sana giggled breathlessly as Mina roped her into a side hug. I passed. But then... who didn't?

Midoriya's name sat at the bottom of the list. The boy cradled his injured hand with a distressed look on his face. Just like that, he's gone? She frowned.

Sure, she understood Aizawa's point about not wanting to waste time and resources on students with no potential, but on the other hand, didn't Midoriya's strength and determination make up for his lack of control? Out of the thousands of applicants, hadn't they been chosen because U.A had seen promise in them?

Their home room teacher clicked a button on his remote, making the holographic rankings disappear. "And I was lying," he said in his lazy drawl. "No one's going home."

Pure silence.

A deranged smile appeared on the Pro's face. "That was just a rational deception to make sure you gave it your all in the tests."

Sana thought Midoriya was going to vibrate right out of his red sneakers from shaking so hard.

The only person who didn't seem surprised by Aizawa's announcement was Momo, who stated that she'd known all along that it was nothing but a ruse.

It didn't seem like an empty threat though, Sana thought as the class stood frozen in front of the disheveled Pro. She remembered the hard look in the man's hooded eyes, his unruffled attitude at the thought of potentially crushing someone's dream. Maybe he realized that the most rational decision would be to wait and see what all we're capable of before making any big decisions.

In contrast to their relief, Bakugou almost seemed disappointed that no one would be going home. Midoriya is still here, so that's not much of a surprise. The explosive blonde seemed to regard everyone he came across either as competition or beneath him in some way, but something was different between the two boys. She wasn't sure if it was a petty rivalry or something more that fueled Bakugo's apparent hatred for the greenette.

"We're done for the day. Pick up a syllabus in the classroom. Read it over before tomorrow morning." Aizawa called as he stalked back towards the main building. Class 1-A, with the exception of Midoriya, headed to the locker rooms to change back into their uniforms.

After grabbing a syllabus and collecting her things, Sana exchanged phone numbers with her new friends. If today is anything to go by, then I think this will be a very interesting year.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Day two of Sana's high school career started off much better than the first, mainly because her father had already left the house by the time she'd made it downstairs. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about," she hummed pleasantly as she dug into her breakfast.

Today would be her first full day at U.A. She'd be introduced to more Pro Heroes, get to hang out more with Mina and the gang, and most importantly, she'd get to taste the cafeteria food. I wonder what Lunch Rush will be serving today? Sparkles surrounded her at the promise of delicious treats.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Umi appeared next to her with her hands on her hips. "Is it because of All Might?"

Eh? Sana stopped chewing on her blueberry muffin. "All Might?"

The gray-haired woman looked surprised. "Didn't you hear? There's a rumor going around that U.A offered him a teaching position."

"No, I hadn't heard." Sana shrugged, pinching off another bite of deliciousness and letting the warm pastry melt on her tongue. Umi sweatdropped at the girl's lack of interest in anything but her muffin.

"You know, most kids your age would be thrilled after hearing that they might get to train under the number one hero."

It wasn't that Sana disliked the Symbol of Peace, she just didn't feel the need to worship him like the majority of the world. Maybe it was because she'd heard so much about him growing up under Endeavor, but she preferred less flashy heroes like Best Jeanist and Mirko. She liked Hawks too... though mostly because he was young and hot.

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, Umi, but I'm not like most kids."

A soft pat on the head had Sana tearing her attention away from her breakfast. The old woman had a small smile on her face, but her eyes held only sadness. "Eat up, my little sunflower. You'll need all your strength if All Might is your teacher."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Besides learning how to react during natural disasters and take down villains, U.A students were also required to take standard core classes like English and Math. After eating lunch with Mina and the rest of the girls of 1-A, it was time for Hero Basic Training.

"I AM HERE!" A boisterous voice announced. "Coming through the door like a hero!" Sana almost snorted at the hulking man lingering in the doorway on the tips of his toes.

The classroom buzzed with excitement in the overwhelming presence of All Might, the Number One hero. "Welcome to the most important class at UA High. Here, you will learn the basics of being a pro."

The Symbol of Peace held out a card with the word "battle" on it.

Sana could practically feel Bakugou's excitement, as well as Midoriya's dread. These two need a larger buffer zone between them than the seat I'm occupying. She placed her chin on her hand. Let's just hope they don't have to go against each other during the exercise. Or worse, team up.

All Might pointed at the wall, where cases with numbers in them were sliding out. "These were designed for you based on your quirk registration forms and the requests you sent in before school started."

After changing out of uniform, the class gathered at Ground Beta for training.

Sana was happy with how her costume turned out. The design was rather simple: a richly-colored plum bodysuit that matched her eyes perfectly with gold and white gold detailing woven beautifully throughout the suit. Lightweight armored paneling protected the soft tissue along her chest, abs, and back while also acting as cooling jets installed to help regulate her core body temperature. The material itself was breathable, as well as heat and flame resistant. Small diamond cuts of fabric along her body exposed flawless golden skin. The dark color of the fabric would also help her absorb heat.

She'd wanted to wear something beautiful, but also embodied what kind of hero she wanted to be. Sana wanted to be seen as a guiding light, a beacon of hope. The deep, pink-purple costume shimmered like oil in the afternoon sun. She'd also requested a tinted visor to help shield her eyes. Her knee-high boots were more of a fashion statement than anything, though they did nothing to hinder her movements. The thick, sturdy heel was enforced with a bouncy material to make them more comfortable when worn for long periods of time. Some heroes wear capes while others wear heels.

As bonus accessories, she'd been given a pair of three-fingered gloves to wear to prevent accidentally burning a civilian due to the heated nature of her quirk.

She quickly inspected her classmates' costumes. Kirishima had opted out of wearing a shirt, bless his saintly soul. His shredded back muscles and drool-worthy torso were on full display. Momo was showing almost as much skin as the human boulder, if not more. Mina wore a psychedelic-patterned leotard with a fur vest because why not? Shoto's entire left side was covered in ice, with an eerie red light where his turquoise iris would normally be. The sight made her sad.

Iida looked like a cross between a robot and a futuristic knight. Midoriya looked every bit like the All Might fanboy she'd imagined him to be, and Bakugou looked badass with a capital ASS standing there with huge, gauntlet-like contraptions strapped to his forearms.

His toned, athletic physique, which had been hidden away beneath his baggy uniform, was now very noticeable. His chest is bigger than mine, Sana half-joked, her eyes lingering on the bulging muscles of his arms and shoulders as they flexed under the weight of his support gear.

"What the hell are you staring at, dumbass?" Bakugou squinted at her choice of costume. Compared to something as elaborate as his, her's was nothing special to look at. She had no need for support items, so her outfit was pretty basic.

"Your tits," she replied honestly.

His eye twitched in annoyance, a feral, demon-like sound emanating from deep within his chest. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Heh. Cute.

"Wow! You guys look super manly!" Kirishima greeted the two cheerfully, completely ignoring the blonde's outburst.

"Hey, Sana!" Kaminari slung an arm across her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Her long, stawberry blonde hair brushed against his shirt. "Do you know what my costume is made of?" His golden eyes stared into her's excitedly.

She shook her head. "Um, no?"

"Boyfriend material." He pinched his collar and winked, a proud grin on his face. Sero and Mina rolled their eyes at the lightning-haired boy as they joined the group.

"Hey, Pikachu." Mina pulled her new bestie out of the blonde's embrace. "Quit trying to steal my girl." Mina nuzzled Sana's cheek with her own, making the Sakano girl laugh.

"They say that clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen, and behold, you are the proof!" All Might cut their conversation short. "Take this to heart. From now on you are all... heroes-in-training!" She noticed All Might shaking with suppressed laughter at Midoriya's obvious inspiration. He could've been a little more subtle with the design, but the overall look was kinda cute. Like a bunny.

"Now that you're ready, it's time for combat training."

"Sir!" Iida raised his hand. "This is the fake city from our entrance exam. Does that mean that we'll be conducting urban battles again?" Again with the entrance exam, Sana sighed. Recommended students are really at a disadvantage here, huh?

"Not quite." The Pro held up two fingers. "I'm going to move you two steps ahead. Most of the villain fights you see on the news take place outside. However, statistically speaking, run‐ins with the most dastardly evildoers take place indoors. Think about it. Backroom deals, home invasions, secret underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows." Makes sense, Sana nodded along. The less eyes on you, the more you can get away with. "For this training exercise, you'll be split into teams of good guys and bad guys and fight two‐on‐two indoor battles."

"Isn't this a little advanced?" Tsuyu asked.

"The best training is what you get on the battlefield!" All Might answered. "But remember, you can't just punch a robot this time. You're dealing with actual people now."

"Sir, will you be the one deciding who wins?"

"How much can we hurt the other team?" Of course he would ask that, Sana rolled her eyes.

"Do we need to worry about the losers getting expelled like earlier?"

"Will you be splitting us up based on chance or comparative skill?"

"I wasn't finished talking!" All Might quickly grew flustered with all their questions. He pulled out his notecards and began to read off the rules of today's exercise. "Listen up. The situation is this; the villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The heroes must try to foil their plans. To do that, the good guys either have to catch the evildoers or recover the weapon. Likewise, the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes." The hero held up a box. "Time's limited, and we'll choose teams by drawing lots!"

"Isn't there a better way?" Iida was doubtful.

"Think about it! Pros often have to team up with heroes from other agencies on the spot, so maybe that's the reason we're seeing that here." Midoriya pointed out the functionality of using this method to pick teams.

"Yes, I see." The speedster realized. "Life is a random series of events. Excuse my rudeness."

"No sweat." All Might assured the teen. "Let's draw!" Each student went up and drew their lots one by one.

Not Shoto, not Shoto, not Shoto. Sana chanted as she placed her hand inside the box. Under normal circumstances, the two made a great team. But she wasn't sure how things would go if they were to be partnered up now. Their dynamic had changed... and not necessarily for the better.

Team I, she read. Glancing around, she eventually found her partner for the day. It was a hard task seeing as the girl was completely invisible except for the pair of gloves and boots to indicate her presence. Hagakure, she remembered from lunch. That's her name.

"I declare that the first teams to fight will be... these guys!" All Might held up two balls. "Team A will be the heroes, Team D will be the villains." Looking at the named groups, Sana nearly choked on air.

Bakugou vs Midoriya.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Midoriya. You will be remembered fondly.

"Everyone else can head to the monitoring room to watch!"

As the rest of the class followed behind the massive hero, Sana hesitated, wanting to say something first. "Hey," she turned to the glowering blonde beside her, his ruby eyes locked in on his target. A determined-looking Midoriya met his gaze head on. "Bakugou."

"What?" He growled, refusing to look her way.

"I know it's none of my business, but the two of you seem to have a history." Sana spoke carefully. Bakugou wasn't the easiest person to talk to, especially when he was worked up about something (that something usually being Midoriya). And though he may not like what she has to say, it was something she felt he needed to hear.

"You're right," Bakugou grunted. "It's not."

Sana's eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest defensively. "Whatever your problems with each other are," she continued. "You need to let it go. At least for the duration of the exercise." Otherwise someone is going to get hurt. She knew from their expressions that both boys were taking this mock battle much too seriously. Idiots. Can't they put aside their issues for fifteen minutes?

"What the hell would you know?! You're just as weak and pathetic as he is!"

She took a step back, her eyes lacking their usual warmth. "Maybe I am," her voice was soft, but with a slight edge to it. Her expression was deadly calm. It gave her a sick satisfying to see his eyes widen if only a fraction. "But I'd rather be like him," she pointed her finger at the greenette watching them in confusion. "Than like you," she shoved that same finger into his firm chest. "Any day. Putting others down to make yourself feel better..."

Her father came to mind, then Enji; images of the two men looming behind the young blonde.

"That is pathetic."

The blonde's fists clenched at his sides. Sana turned on her heel, her pastel hair almost smacking him in the face had he not jerked his head back. Stupid girl, he growled internally, stomping into the building to hide the weapon and start the exercise. Siding with that shitty nerd. I'll show everyone who's really pathetic.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bakusqaud #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #bakugo katuski #bnha fluff #bnha angst #shouto todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki

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eri-pl · 2 days

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I lahorima anna / 4: Incomprehensible

(info)

(Nelyo = Maedhros, everyone in Silm has lots of names.)

Sarnel rang the bell again and waited. She should have called him instead of coming, at least she'd know he wasn't home. But if he was home, what would she say?

“Hello, can we talk about how you're an ancient war criminal and how it's still the least of my problems?” This conversation needed to be had face to face.

It was five in the afternoon, the air cooled a little and she'd expected to find her friend at home, doing some translations. She just wasted her time.

Or… All the facts got insane, but they were still facts, able to be used. Nallamo was apparently an immortal bard from ancient tales. Which meant that the best place to look for him would be at the shore. Somewhere where one could sing, undisturbed and unseen by others. Like the turn of the shoreline, where the cliff nearly met the sea and only a few dark rocks served as the barrier between them.

It was over ten miles away, and a wild guess, but Sarnel couldn't just return home and again be alone with her thoughts. Rainel had been very quiet recently and they didn't talk about what had happened, because Sarnel couldn't force herself to start that conversation either.

She took the tram — a new wagon, painted green — and in less than an hour she descended the rusty stairs down the cliff. She passed a long closed and derelict cliffside Umbarian restaurant, a relic from a time before Sarnel was born, when this part of the city had been full of artists and wealthy families, not refugees from the North, living in unsafe, old buildings, often illegally.

As she got closer to the beach, Sarnel heard singing, barely audible among the sound of the waves, but beautiful and sorrowful. And not sounding like Westron. She smiled.

She took off her shoes, rolled up her pants and entered the narrow beach, which soon gave place to rocks. First low and smooth, then more uneven. How deep was the sea below them? At least in this part the smell was pleasant: salt and seaweed, and there was no trash in the water.

Sarnel stood on a wet rock, with the next one a good five feet before her, also wet and uneven. Not a good landing point for a long jump. The sharp turn of the promontory still blocked her view. She could turn back, which would accomplish nothing and require more jumping on rocks. She could go on all fours which was the last thing she wanted anyone to see, and would destroy her pants. She could just stand there like a fool. Or…

She waited until the song, now more audible and even more beautiful, ended, and before another started, she yelled, “Hello?”

Silence.

“We need to talk! If you don't come I'll try to come to you and I'll probably fall into the sea!”

“Wait.” How did he manage to be so loud without sounding as if he was screaming?

A few moments later a familiar figure — Maglor, she should get accustomed to thinking about him as Maglor, the thousands years old legendary not quite hero — came from behind the turn of the cliff, jumping between the rocks effortlessly, even though he carried a guitar.

“How did you find me?”

“I'm a historian. I derive conclusions from ancient tales. And the ancient tales suggest that when you have nothing else to do, you sing on the beach. This place seemed like the best spot for it. Now please, help me get back to solid ground.”

“We need to talk,” she said again as they reached the sand. They sat near the cliff.

“I don't know where to start,” said Maglor.

“Then I'll start. First, I want you to know that we're friends and that's not changing. Even though instead of you explaining it was— whatever this crazy thing was. I think I feel explained enough. So, yes, I am your friend, and I trust you to be mine. And I know that I can trust you with Rainel and with myself.”

He looked at the sea, tense. Sarnel took a deep breath, feeling the salt in the air.

“Again I don't know how to say things indirectly, so excuse me, but we're not going to have anything to do with any Silmarils, even if they weren't luckily all gone, neither I nor Rainel are absolutely not going to, and I'm pretty sure that's the only thing that could challenge our friendship.” She took a breath. “Unless I'm wrong and you just don't like it when people know who you are, or there’s some other—”

He looked at her and smiled. “Sarnel. I rarely lack a word, but you're halfway between rude and genius. Yes, we definitely are friends. Both of you are very important to me. And thank you, thank you very much. I didn't explain…”

“Of course you didn't explain, I wouldn't believe you without some kind of proof. I'm sorry.” She put up a hand, shielding her eyes from the sun, or maybe her face from this feeling of having been wrong for most of her life.

“Don't be, it's normal nowadays. And earlier the normal reaction was running away in terror or trying to kill me.” He paused for a moment. “One thing I don't understand. You know my history… you must know, you are a scholar…”

Sarnel turned to him. “Yes. That's the second part. You're a mass murderer and I don't know what to think about it, how to reconcile it with my first point. However, my first point still stands. This implies something about myself and I eventually will have to figure out what. But that’s my problem.

“Also, you're older than anything my museum ever had and that too feels like too much. Best if I just don't think about that part for now.” She leaned on the cliff and closed her eyes from the low hanging sun.

“Mind if I sing again?”

“I'd love it.”

Maglor sang for half an hour, and while she's heard him before — beautiful, melancholic, calming — here it was something more, something uninhibited. His voice went from the lows of a bass to highs that a few women could reach, from very fast, jumping, notes to vowels so long that Sarnel wondered how could anyone have so much breath in them.

The lyrics were Quenya, and quite complex, so she understood only fragments. Some of them were happy, praising the beauty of unsullied lands, some more nostalgic, about lost nations, and places, and people.

It was just one man — well, one elf — with a guitar and insane vocal capabilities, but with the echo and the waves it sounded almost like an orchestra. Finally, after another song, Sarnel gathered enough resolve for another difficult conversation.

“What do we do with our other problem?”

“Which one?”

Sarnel couldn't bring herself to reply.

“Morgoth?” asked Maglor.

She nodded. “How bad is it? I mean, how much is he like in the stories? He doesn't seem that terrible, but still…”

“He's worse.” It was one simple sentence, said in a matter-of-fact way, but Sarnel’s heart went up to her throat. Maglor continued. “Our only hope it's that after his exile he's nearly powerless. I'm not sure how far it goes, and I won't risk checking. But I'm still alive and still myself, which proves that he can't do much.”

“Maybe he really did change? He said—”

“He's talking about seeking forgiveness, but Morgoth would never do that. I mean that he would never really repent, but he had of course claimed to do so before. The previous time.” Maglor closed his eyes and his face tensed. After a while he spoke again. “He does however seem to need something from me. I don't know what he's planning, but the only safe solution is that we give him to the Valar and they will deal with him, hopefully in a more final way than the previous time. Maybe they will even thank us.”

“I'm sure they will, if we survive getting there. You will. But I'm not sure about the two of us. Two…” She smiled nervously. “Rainel was right, now I can't just resign.”

“What worries me is that he is actively trying to go to Valinor. What is he expecting, a warm welcome? Still, it's much better to have him there than here, even if that's what he wants.”

“What if he does something stupid before that? I don't mean ‘say insane things to my sister when she's driving’ stupid. I mean murderous stupid.”

Maglor nodded. “We need to find Tol Morwen. Why do you think I encouraged you to seek it? I want you to have Gurthang, no matter how weak of a safety measure a mannish legend is.”

“He can read my mind. Or at least read parts of it. If he learns we're trying to have a way to kill him just in case, he may kill us first.” Sarnel shivered.

“I won't let him. And I will teach you to close off your spirit. This will prevent Morgoth and anyone else from reading or manipulating your thoughts. Focus on what separates us. The things in me you cannot understand. The incomprehensible.”

Sarnel closed her eyes, trying to do as Maglor told her.

A great sea, waves higher than her, deep blue, crushed onto her and swallowed her. It was so calm under the water, and she let the depths hold her, cradle her, and she was a child again. She fell, and she was gently caught by blackness.

Sarnel awoke in the dark, but it was a normal dark gray of a moonlit night. She was sitting on the sand, her head on Maglor’s arm.

“What—?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't be expecting you to do well so shortly after this conversation. The images I gave you were too strong, and with your mind so wide open they overwhelmed you. I would have woken you up, but you seemed to enjoy it.”

Sarnel smiled. “I did. Thank you.”

“We should try again some day soon, though. You'll need to learn to put our friendship to sleep for a moment.”

She stood up. “We can meet tomorrow after work, I think I'll be in much better shape then. Now I have to go home.”

“So tomorrow it is, and more lessons after that. But aftermorrow I will take the train to Methir and get us a good copy of that map.”

They walked for a while.

“Maglor,” she said as they climbed the stairs. “I know he… there's a lot of history between you two and I can't even find words for it. Lots of terrible, one-sided history. I wish I could say or do something actually helpful…”

“Hush. You're just a child, now I can say it to you clearly and you won’t protest: You are a pure, innocent child. Terrors of the past are not meant for you.”

It felt so warm and for a moment Sarnel wanted to agree. It was technically true. But it didn’t feel quite right. “You're my friend. I should help you.”

“You are here. It is more than enough.”

“I am here, in this crazy world. When Rainel gets back to her talkative self, she'll rub it in my face how much she was right and I was wrong.” Sarnel laughed. “But I can deal with that. With friends like you two, I can deal with a lot.”

Rainel slumped over the bentwood cafe table. She'd rather be home, lying on the bed and not having to think about it, but Sarnel had insisted, so now she sat with a sweet spiced tea with her sister next to her, and listened to Maglor singing. How could people not realize that he wasn't human? Humans didn't sing like this. Even the swollen bruise on her head stopped hurting.

She closed her eyes and sipped the tea, letting the music lead her mind somewhere, to a cold, sad place full of longing, but at least she was safe there. The tea warmed her up and filled her throat with the smell of cinnamon and cloves.

When Maglor joined them, she was already much calmer than she'd been throughout the whole day.

“You don't look well. Is your head still hurting or is it something worse?” he asked.

Rainel held her empty cup closer. “He came to the hangar. As if nothing happened. With some paperwork. I can't… I just can't work there, knowing that he is who he is, that he killed so many people… How could I?”

Sarnel exhaled quickly and gave her an intense look.

“Do you want me to tell him to leave you alone?” asked Maglor.

Rainel looked into her cup. She could use more tea. Maybe this would help her think. What did she want actually? “That would be cowardice,” she said. “That's not what our ancestor would do.”

“Hurin had no choice,” said Sarnel with emphasis. “You do have a choice. You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to. Just like with regular people.”

“I'm not going to run away from him,” said Rainel and went for more tea, which the shirt man at the counter poured her from a huge brass kettle, which he refilled immediately with fresh hot water. Her head pulsed with dull pain at each step, but it was a lesser discomfort than unknown people giving her worried looks because of the bandage.

She added sugar to her tea and quickly returned to the table. “Why did I promise to take him? Why can't I just shut up?”

Maglor said calmly: “If you don't want to go—”

“I want to! I've always wanted to, and now I also need to take you home. I just wish I could leave him.”

“You can,” said Sarnel.

Rainel drank her tea. It was still too hot, but it calmed her down. “Maybe I could. But it would be unhonorable.”

Maglor looked at her with concern. “Rainel, there are more important things than honor. And as for taking me home: you do know that I don't deserve that?”

“You do.” She put the cup on the table and looked at him. If they both wanted to argue, she wouldn't back down.

They gazed at each other for a while.

“Are you unaware of my life story or just too kind?” Maglor asked, and there was something impossible to ignore in his voice.

Was she unaware? He did kill many people, but he had reasons… the reasons being an oath he willingly made. Did it even force him to act or was it his choice? Everyone had a choice, didn't they?

Still, he was the one who held her when her world broke apart. And he was willing to face even Morgoth to protect her and Sarnel.

“It's not too kind,” she said after a while. “You do have a lot of good in you, I can see it.”

Sarnel nodded.

Maglor looked down. “And a lot of darkness.”

Rainel smiled. “But the good part deserves to be happy and at home.”

“And the darkness?”

“It will have to tag along, I guess. I'd rather be too kind than not kind enough.” She drank her tea, now only comfortably warm. “I know your story. Maybe not fully, but well enough. And I stand by what I said.”

Even with the tea, Rainel felt cold, but at least she knew what she wanted. Partially. But it was a start. She needed to get Maglor to Aman, and for this, she needed the ornithopter. The rest she'd figure out some other day.

Maglor left the train station and entered the busy street. The sun was hanging low and a colorful crowd of people filled the pavement, enjoying the cooler evening.

He reached the park near Methir Museum: the too-dry soil was covered in fragrant herbs and small bushes, and the air smelled almost fine. Small orange trees growing asking the path were mostly fruitless, but at least they had decent leaves.

He sat on an iron bench. There was over an hour left until the museum would be closed, and after that, probably another hour until it would be empty.

Those two crazy girls. And he wasn't the reason for their lack of family. He'd had so many children — in various wide interpretations of this word — since the twins, but it still hurt.

The girls actually had some family, but regardless of what their mother thought, those two were Maglor’s responsibility now. And he needed a way to protect them before Morgoth could… What was he planning to do? Regain his power somehow? Corrupt them into something unbearable?

Could Maglor protect them?

If their nation had indeed been descendents of Turin, which was unlikely but not impossible, there was a chance they may protect themselves. If only they had Gurthang.

The prophecy had many variants, he'd heard it with ‘Turin’, not ‘descendant of Turin’ and it was mannish gossip anyway. But at least it was something. A straw to grasp to.

And who knows, maybe helping the Men kill Morgoth would be enough for him to be able to return home? But it was a desperate plan, to be attempted only if necessary. Too much risk for the girls.

Maglor still wasn’t sure if simply bringing Morgoth to the Valar would be enough to open the road for him. Ulmo, of course, never replied to his prayers. But Rainel's flight was his best hope right now and the safest solution for everyone.

Someone needed to do it. It would be easier if it wasn’t him, but everyone else competent was long gone.

At least now he has something concrete to do. Should he braid his hair? Definitely not in a battle pattern, as he wouldn't kill anyone that night. Not a celebratory pattern either, of course. The noble families of Noldor didn't have a tradition of breaking in. A hunting pattern would be most relevant if he could remember any of them. Celegorm had shown him at least twenty at various points, but it was millennia ago.

Maglor braided his hair, pulling scraps of ideas from his memory. It most likely looked awfully chaotic, but everyone who could notice it had been since long dead or gone. Why did he even bother?

Before he finished braiding, the sun set and the air filled with a stronger scent of orange leaves and rosemary, and with buzzing of insects. Maglor left the park and walked around the museum.

Slowly the city grew quieter and the building emptied of people. The sky turned dark, but with the dirty city air and the amount of ugly, bluish lanterns, only a few stars were visible. Of course, one of them was clear and bright, as every night.

At least one of them we didn't mar…

He walked to a window in the side wall, where the closed room should be. It opened easily and Maglor quickly entered the building.

He was in a small, undecorated room full of cabinets and drawers with tags. A drawer described as “near-Shift (SA) papers” contained a small jar with some white dust and a stack of papers, separated by pieces of thin cloth.

Maglor moved the papers to the table one after another, checking what they were. A map, but much smaller. A letter with a Numenorean seal, but it wasn't Elros’s, it was written by one of his troublesome descendants. A really good drawing of a ruby. Another map, a wrong one again. But the next map was the right one.

Maglor took out a piece of paper and started copying it. At some point the guards passed nearby, their steps loud on the wooden floor. He continued drawing. It would take over an hour to copy the whole map precisely, but he had time. After half an hour he took a break, and out of curiosity looked further into the drawer.

A portrait of an unknown man. A genealogical tree of some lesser Numenorean family. A handwritten poem he wrote when—

He screamed into the night, desperately hoping that it's all been a dream. Nelyo. The look in his eyes, worse than after Thrangorodrim. Red light on his face. ‘Don't leave me!’ he screamed, but how could he expect to not be left alone? He had left Nelyo alone. For thirty years.

We're all bound to fire.

This poem was to be his farewell. He left it at the cliff before jumping. But he underestimated how much of a coward he was.

We're all bound to fire, not to the ocean.

“Hands where I can see them!”

Maglor blinked, suddenly awakened from the memory.

Two guards stood in the door, one holding a flashlight and the other aiming a gun at him. The first one had a gun too, but she held it down. Not good. Typical Men, even trained in combat, were trivial to incapacitate without causing them lasting harm, but the guns changed everything. Damned things, making the mortals too dangerous for their own good.

Maglor waited for a good opportunity to distract them and run without having to risk killing the two women who were just doing their duty.

“You will come with us,” said the one aiming at him.

The other guard raised her flashlight straight at his eyes. “He was here three days ago with that woman from Eithel Turin.”

So she did remember him. Now Maglor had either to kill both or to follow their requests, and end up arrested. How much did he need that sword? Not that much. Nothing was worth so much to kill innocent, almost civilian mortals for it.

Being able to make such a choice felt wonderful, even if Sarnel would have to bail him later and he would have one less way to handle Morgoth. The legend was probably false anyway.

The guard with a flashlight took his drawing and they led him out of the museum. They turned right, towards the villas, not to the city center. Weren't they going to a police station?

They went through the same street where he'd recently been with the girls, along the mosaic-covered walls. Upper floor window of Tungson’s house beamed with light despite the late hour. One guard opened the gate — the other still held him at gunpoint — and they went in.

A worried-looking young man in a gray suit opened the door. “What happened?”

“This man tried to break into the museum. Ms Tungson may want to see him if she’s still awake,” replied the front guard and they moved into the hall.

“She’s—”

“What’s going on?” asked a slurred voice.

“Someone broke into your collection,” said the front guard and they went deeper into the house.

On the upper floor, peeking through an open door stood a red-faced middle-aged woman, very likely of some hobbit ancestry, and looked at Maglor with curiosity. “Is that a thief?”

The guards were silent for a moment, then the one with the gun replied. “Um, yes—”

“Bring him to me! I will deal with him,” demanded the woman, who must have been Ms Tungson herself.

They went upstairs, to a rather boring-looking but tidy office decorated with useless ornamental swords and solid bronze sculptures that would probably make for better weapons.

The lady sat heavily in an armchair. Her eyes were red and she sniveled a little, but her expression was very confident.

The whole room smelled of whiskey and a mostly empty bottle of it stood on the desk, along with a shot glass and some ice, scattered on the stone top.

The guard still had her gun out and stood behind Maglor watching him. The young man in gray — probably an assistant — stood in the corner, looking extremely embarrassed.

The other guard handed Maglor's drawing to the drunk lady. “It seems that man was copying your map. He’s been asking about it earlier, along with a woman from the Royal Museum in Eithel Turin.”

“The nice short-haired girl in a blue dress?”

The guard nodded and Tungson said, “she was here with her sister. They must be all thieves. But they seemed like good people. What is it?” she asked Maglor. “Are you good thieves, or bad thieves?”

Her assistant sighed.

Maglor spoke slowly, so that her drunk mind could follow. “Those women aren’t thieves, I broke in on my own. They are my friends, but didn’t know anything about my plans. They genuinely want your help in flying to the Undying Lands—”

“They want to fly to the Undying Lands?” Tungsten’s face grew redder than before. “Why didn’t they tell me? I mean, it makes no sense, of course, but…” she blinked intensely and poured herself more whiskey.

Maglor took a deep breath. This whole situation seemed surprisingly salvageable. “They were afraid of telling you this, but when Rainel finishes the ship, she will fly far into the sky, to beg the Valar for salvation from the invading wilderness…” He talked, painting before the woman a vision of an epic journey and the world being delivered from the brink of a catastrophe. It might even be not a complete lie, after all the Valar did help once. Even if they didn't finish the job.

Of course he couldn’t mention the real main problem, but the wild zones were enough for a good tale.

Still, Tungson listened to him unmoving, mouth opened, like a child.

“Out, you three,” she said when he finished.

“But he may be dangerous,” said the guard. Her gun has since some time been pointed down, and if Maglor wanted to be dangerous, her presence wouldn't stop him. Still, no wonder that she didn't want to leave her employer alone with an unknown criminal.

“I can deal with a thief!” said Tungson. “Now out, am I the one paying you out not?”

The guards and assistant left, but stayed just behind the door, whispering among themselves. Tungson pulled a second glass from a cupboard, and poured them both, finishing the bottle.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re the best thief I ever had.” She sniffled. “I’ve been sitting on all this, like, over thirty years since they died and I thought… I’ve always wanted adventure, you know. Now I’m too old. I turned fifty last month. That’s why I opened the collection, I thought… But I guess it’s too late now. And those two… They deserve to have an adventure, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so.”

She put some ice into the drinks and handed him one glass. “For adventure.”

Maglor drank with her. It was a good whiskey, single malt and unchillfiltered.

“Sit down. You tried to steal my map,” she said, slurring the words together. “Why? Maps are the least valuable of all those things. They aren’t shiny or beautiful.”

Maglor sat on a chair opposite her. “I was simply copying it.”

“That is a really nice copy, better than that ugly photo. I want one. Or two. I will hang one in the museum and the other here.” she gestured haphazardly at the wall.

“I can make copies for you, if you like. I can handle the map safely even though it’s delicate.”

She soaked her hand at the desk. “Then we have a deal! This and some more drawings, I’ll make a list. You will come here… when can you come to make copies?”

“Monday morning.”

“Radio said the spores from White Wastes of Rhovanion will fall sometime on Monday.” Tungson held the empty bottle and turned it around as if making sure the whiskey was gone.

“I can deal with the cold spores. I’ll probably just work continuously for a few days until I’m finished with the maps, and then we’ll see.” Maglor stood up. It was best to leave when she was in a good mood.

“So Monday it is. You are honor-bound to come. Because you tried to steal from me. So we are done about this. But sit down. The two women with a flying spider. You know them, yes?”

“I do.” He sat again. This lady definitely had a personality.

“Tell them I’ll give them the money. To fly to the Valar. But the ornipo— the airplane must be painted poppy red and have my grandparents’ crest on it: nine silver coins on brown… here.” She took a signet ring from the desk and showed Maglor the crest – a symmetric design with one element removed, in a way once commonly used to mark estranged family members. This little lady must have had quite a family history.

“And I will name that airplane,” she continued. “I will send them a name. And I want my photo in all newspapers that will write about it. They must tell the newspapers that it’s my— what is it exactly?”

“Your sponsorship. I will make sure—”

“Sponsorship, yes. In three weeks it’s the silver anniversary of my grandma’s death. I want the airplane ready by then, flying over the city with the crest. For all the newspapers— And when they do talk with the Valar…” Her enthusiasm faded and Tungson slumped on her desk. “But will they get there? It never worked, did it? I mean, they aren’t elves or something.”

“It may work—”

“I know what you need.” She paused dramatically, her eyes glistening with drunkenness, her finger raised in the air. “A Silmaril. What are you laughing about? Am I a joke to you?”

With some effort, Maglor stopped chuckling.“No. I’m sorry, miss. You are a very respectable citizen with a wonderful collection of artifacts. I just— It must be the whiskey.”

“Can’t hold your liquor, can you? Not everyone can do it. Anyway, a Silmaril. I will give you one. Give it to those valiant ladies. It is beautiful, but they need to save the world, don’t they?” Her words were barely recognizable and she practically lay on the desk, but still spoke with a lot of energy.

“I don’t think—” Why burst that lady’s dream? Besides, Sarnel would definitely be happy if her museum was given the Arkenstone. As long as Tungson wouldn’t change her mind and… whatever those people did when someone deceived them? Take her to court, probably. Wonderful, innocent people. “This is very generous of you, miss. But I think you should sleep with this thought and make the decision tomorrow. It is not a decision to be made lightly.” Somehow, Maglor managed to keep a straight face.

“You think? Well, I do like it, but… How would they fly without it?”

“I think the girls can handle it.”

“If you say so… I need to go to bed. Nine coins, and three weeks, remember? I’ll send them a letter anyway.” She somehow managed to stand up and let Maglor out of the room. The relieved guards followed him down to the gate, and watched him as he left.

Sarnel paced back and forth in front of the police station. She should have asked someone for his phone number, but if someone knew it, it would be Maglor, and he would worry too much about what she was going to do.

So she was at the station for a second time today, but this time at the correct hour. It was still better than what she did before: fervently rereading the books which she had until recently considered purely myths and legends, and trying to figure out which parts were literal, which parts were true in some other sense, and how it all connected to her current situation.

Finally, the fallen Vala left the building and fortunately, he was alone.

“Can we talk?”

Either Melkor wasn't surprised to see her, or he hid it well. “It's not my fault she won't talk to me.”

Sarnel walked alongside him. “Rainel needs some time to adjust to the situation. I can’t blame her, to be honest. But we need to talk about boundaries. Let's go somewhere nice, like the fountain square.”

“Boundaries of what?”

She took a deep breath. “Of behavior. Judging from the accessible material you seem to have a problem with them. Before we can work together, we need to establish some rules.”

He turned into a direction that definitely wasn't the fountain square.

“Where are we going?” asked Sarnel.

“Somewhere nice. Which means not too bright, no parks, no fountains with idiotic sculptures, no sea, and no complaining Feanorians. So, what were you saying?”

“Rules,” she replied, glancing around. The street was fortunately full of people, and it didn't seem like they were going anywhere dangerous.

“Yes, not lying to you and not scaring your sister, because it’s your machine. I get that,” said Melkor dismissively.

“Regardless of whose machine it is, it’s just… If you want to be able to be a part of any society — I’m pretty sure it includes Valinor’s society — society has rules. Like not entering people's apartments before you are actually let in, and other, more difficult things. ”

“When I came to you? Well, she opened the door.”

This was going to be a long conversation. They walked into the railway station. Odd idea of a nice place, but at least it was full of people and loud enough to have a conversation without being overheard. They sat on a bench inside, facing the roofed train tracks.

Melkor pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and scribbled as she talked.

Sarnel felt like a kindergarten teacher, explaining the most basic things and being asked why. However, instead of a five year old, she had a terrible, dark deity listening to her. And the topics they talked about were very much not suited for children.

At least he was willing to listen.

“Nobody ever told me all that,” he said after yet another explanation. He kept looking at the trains and not at her, but Sarnel slowly grew accustomed to it. “Well, maybe they did, but I wasn't paying attention. All that stuff related to you was… Nobody told me it was going to blow up in my face again and again.”

“And blowing up in your face the most important problem about it?”

“It is an important problem. It was quite awful, you know.” They didn't speak for a while, but it still was loud with the sounds of trains and chatter of people. “All right, all right, I guess it is a problem all by itself, too. Your feelings and freedoms and all that stuff. It's just so weird. Frustrating, quiet, and confusing. It's much easier to classify behaviors by what's going to end with me getting thrown in the void, or stabbed, or having my Silmaril stolen.”

“It wasn't yours.”

“It was at the time.”

Sarnel sighed. “All right, we need another rule—”

“It's the last one for today, I'm tired.”

She was tired too, not only from the noise and hard steel bench.

“Fine. We don't talk about Silmarils, especially when Maglor is close, which with his hearing means we don't talk about them at all. I don't want to check how easy it is to provoke him.”

“I wouldn't say that to his face. Probably.” He closed the notebook and put it in his pocket. “That was actually some useful advice. See you in a few days, I guess?”

She nodded. “I'll call you. Just give me your number.”

Despite the fabric covering her lower face, Rainel sneezed again. The air was full of wood dust, making the hangar seem even smaller. The air filter, of course, wasn’t working well enough. She should have bought a better one, but the project was way out of budget anyway. She would need to find an alternative sponsor now that Tungson refused to help. She sneezed one more time, stronger, and the bruise on her head echoed with pain.

“Maybe take a break or something?”

She looked at him, sitting on a crate in a nonchalant pose, reading a newspaper. Morgoth. The Dark Enemy of the world.

The last few days were a haze. Gluing the remaining wing took a lot of focus, fortunately, and Rainel could avoid thinking about what had happened in the car. But as she finished gluing and started sanding the wood, the fog covering her mind had gradually dissipated and she had to face her situation.

She put the sander down. “We need to talk. Really talk, not just— this.”

He shrugged. “Took you some time. Back in the car, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to tell you, because, after all, I could only do this once. It seems that it wasn't the best moment.”

Rainel turned towards him. “Not about your choice of the moment.”

“I guess you want your toy back?” He pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her. “And to tell me how much you hate me and all that. Go on. At least I'll learn a few new words in Westron. When Maglor talks to me, it's now usually Quenya.”

She took the toy, careful not to touch him directly and returned to her working place, accidentally kicking down the radio. She put it back up and turned to Morgoth again. “Why would I not hate you? Just one reason.”

He didn't reply.

“Why do you have to make it more difficult? You— it makes no sense. I thought I had my life figured out, I've spent years believing despite everyone else that there is more to everything, that I have a destiny, and then— then it's more but—”

He snickered. “Not in a nice way? Not in a shiny, heroic way when someone comes to you and gives you a noble speech about how you will help to get the Valar to beat Melkor up, or how you will steal Melkor’s things, or how you will invent a way to kill a Maia, because Mairon had been to be too smart for his own good.”

He shrugged. “You read all their idiotic stories, you know the drill. And instead of something you'd like it's just – me. It's just that you will help Melkor to go where he can actually do something useful, maybe for the first time in a while. I would say that I'm sorry you don't get your fairy tale, but Sarnel asked me to not lie to you.”

“Don't twist it like that! Earendli, Beren, everyone had perfectly justified reasons. You tortured their friends, murdered their families, slaughtered whole nations!” She looked straight at him, feeling her muscles tighten. “Don't present yourself as the victim, when you are the very opposite. You are Morgoth Bauglir and you did more than enough to deserve this name.”

He rolled his eyes, but Rainel continued.

“Yes, I do hate you. I’d love to tell you a lot more about what I think of you and you would learn more words that you can expect. I'm not afraid. I'm a descendant of Hurin. And he was very much right.” She kept looking at Morgoth, even though he looked more and more inhuman, his face frozen with no expression, but she could feel the anger emanating from him.

“Oh, the other kind of hero I forgot to mention,” he sneered with more malice than before. “Lecturing me as if I was the stupid one, provoking me as if I wasn’t angry enough. Cursing me for always getting the worst luck, and then being surprised when his brats got the same. And calling me that name to my face. Calling me—” He closed his eyes and sat for a long while unmoving.

The radio talked quietly in the background, covering a recently expanded wild zone: after two months of struggle, Erech was finally overtaken by thorny iron-like vines.

When Morgoth looked at her, he looked frustrated, but the strange feeling was gone. “Anyway you're not their kin, both died before they could get any. But sure, you do have a temper. I wonder if you would say all this to my face if the situation had been different.”

“I—” Would she? But were her words less true only because the risk was lesser? “Yes, I am their kin. Ulmo saved the child, took it down the river and into the sea and found for it a new family on an island where you couldn't find it.”

“I would have seen it happen.” He grimaced. “But you got one thing right: it's the exact kind of thing he would do. Get their brat somewhere safe just to spite me.”

“To kill you, eventually. I'm her descendant, distant, but still.” Rainel sat on the floor, opposite of him. “And I have no idea what to do. You are rude and entitled, and twist everything we talk about. But at the same time, you… don't behave like a monster. You could have easily killed me, and you're just complaining. And yet you have done so much, to so many. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, what now, you’re angry that I’m not torturing you?”

“It’s not that!”

“Then don't quote Hurin to me, it can end badly for both of us. Let's just leave each other alone.” He picked up the newspaper again. Apparently working on the ornithopter wasn’t part of his plans.

But Rainel needed to work. She started cleaning the sander, because its ventilation holes were covered with dust. The dust reminded her of something. “You did send the forests against us, didn't you?”

“I wasn’t even here. And I don't like forests. You can ask Yavanna when you get there. I'm sure she'd have a big list of reasons why what she's doing with those forests is perfectly fine,” he said, still looking at the newspaper.

“She wouldn't. She wouldn't have beasts slaughtering people mercilessly.”

“Why?”

“Because she's noble and good.”

He looked at Rainel above the newspaper. “Which, in turn, is proven by the fact that she didn't empower those forests?”

“Even if you didn't do this, you created many other catastrophes and perils. Ice. Volcanoes. Fire in general.”

“It made sense at the moment. I'm still not sure—”

“It doesn't make sense. What sense could there be in losing someone so close, so early? It's just— you made explosions and all those things. And that's not…” Rainel looked away.

“Forgivable?”

She finished the sander and could go back to work. Not talk with him. But she kept talking. “Maybe. At least that's not something you can expect me to ignore.”

“People would still die. That's what you do.”

“It wouldn't be this painful.”

“Well, what do you expect me to tell you? I have no idea what would be. Do you know how little I even remember from the beginning? I've made explosions and how do you think your favorite machines work? What moves their engines?”

They sat for a while in silence, broken only by the radio, relating a golf tournament. The broadcast broke into the weather forecast, confirming that there was a cold fallout due soon, and the temperature would decrease dramatically for a couple of days.

Morgoth smiled. “Hmmm… That sounds fun. I can’t wait to see the thing.”

Right, there hasn't been a major fallout since February, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to see one.

“I’ll have to work fast with mounting the wings…” Rainel bit her lip. “At the police you said that you would help, and I don’t think I can manage it in time by myself. Sarnel is busy most of the time and Maglor—”

“—can’t decide between avoiding me and trying to watch my every move while being as mean as he can without actually saying anything directly. Fortunately, now he found himself something else to do.”

“Are you really surprised he reacts to you like this?”

He gave no answer.

She took out the cylinder again. “I shouldn't be taking gifts back, even from you. This isn't right.”

“If you don't want it in my hands, I'm not going to take it against your will. It never works.” He shrugged and turned the newspaper to another page.

“I—” She closed her eyes. Back in the museum, he seemed to enjoy it. Their whole discussion… She opened her eyes. Morgoth was still sitting on the crate, with the newspaper open.

“I think you should keep it. If you like it. I'm glad that you like it.” She handed it to him again, her eyes focused on the toy. “And I don't think it was fair to shout at you just because it felt heroic. Everything I know is second hand, and even if it's true, I should probably judge you more by what you do now than by what you did millennia ago.” She took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I'm not very brave, as you have noticed. I'll try to behave better, but don't get angry if I mess up the names. I'll try not to.”

He turned the cylinder around for a while, then put it back into one of his pockets and got up. “We better get to work with those wings. You have a second sander?”

“No, but I have a lot of fabric to be glued onto their surface. You can finish the sanding, I guess you won’t have so much problem with the dust.” Rainel handed him the sander, still feeling uneasy about being this close, and they began working.

Despite the relatively early hour, and the streets being crowded, Sarnel felt a chill on her neck. Maybe she was getting anxious from all the— what was it? When such things had happened in the past, she’d call them ‘history’, or rather ‘mythology’. But now? Now they shouldn’t be happening. But they did.

She walked quicker, heading towards a bigger street. Who could be following her? It was too crowded for any kind of robbery and the scariest thing… The scariest thing that could be there was her sister’s sort-of-coworker, if he chose to be scary.

She stopped and turned away.

It was Maglor. He caught up to her and led her into a narrow, tidy alley, full of clothes drying on strings hung between the windows. Those were mostly children's clothes and the air smelled of cooked vegetables.

“Are we having a secret conversation?” she asked.

“A private conversation, I would call it,” he said quietly. “It involves some illegal activities.”

“You did it. Of course you did, I should have expected this, but back when we made the bet I thought that you were just a normal, eccentric human.” She smiled.

“If you think our bet wasn’t fair, I won’t pressure you. I got caught anyway, it just went better than I’d expected. I will have the map, you will have the money to finish the ship, and that hilarious lady probably had a huge hangover, but I don’t think she ended up particularly unhappy.”

“What did you do?” Sarnel shuffled her legs. She never liked standing in place for too long. At least the alley was covered in shade, because the sun was still low.

“Nothing vile or worrisome. I simply told her where you are flying to and helped her imagination a little. She was very willing to help from the start. I think you had her nearly convinced.”

“Maybe. Yes, it sounds possible. But we couldn’t make the deal with her.”

“Sarnel, don’t blame yourself. Compare the amount of experience we have. Also, I met her when she was utterly drunk and simmering in regrets about her life. That helped too.

“The problem is that I agreed to make more copies of the map for her as part of the deal, so I have to go to Methir. There’s a fallout forecast. If it’s intense enough the trains won’t be running and I’ll be away for a couple of days, maybe more.”

Sarnel looked at him, puzzled.

“I don’t want to leave you two alone. I know I can’t watch over you all the time, but…”

“We can handle the situation. I’ve talked with him, and it wasn’t exactly an easy conversation. And I still have everything in its right place.” She smiled. “Even Rainel got better, I think. She started talking in a normal way. You can safely go, we’ll be fine. And with the fallout coming I should probably help them in the workshop, if my boss agrees to give me some free time.”

They left the alley.

“Ms Tungson expects the ship to be ready for the first flight in three weeks.”

Sarnel's heart jumped. “Three weeks? That’s crazy. Even with Rainel’s fastest timeline—”

“She said it’ll be a month, and she has help, even though questionable—”

“The month she mentioned was more like a month and a half in her calculations, which are probably too optimistic anyway. She’s always too optimistic. And from what I heard, the ‘help’ isn’t actually helping that much.” Sarnel sighed. “Three weeks means that I need to take free time from the museum and when you’ve done with Tungson, you’ll have to help too. This way we have a chance of making it.” She looked at Maglor. “I think you still won the bet. You didn't get arrested after all.”

“If you don't want to—”

Sarnel smiled. “Maglor, you are my friend. I want to be fair to you. And I think it's fair that you won. Anyway, getting that sword simply makes sense. I'm not sure about keeping it a secret, if that's even possible, but I can't see any better solution. I think we should tell him soon after we return. Otherwise it just seems like asking for trouble.”

“I think we can discuss it with Rainel when we have the sword. Now we need to focus on getting the ship working.”

#silm fic #my fic #my fanfic #silm fanfiction #fanfic #I lahorima anna #The unexpected gift #RVY #silm #TW suicide mention #TW alcohol

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Text

Okay but Foolish and Cornelius's history with Punz's ancestor is a beautiful tragic symphony when you think about it.

Like imagine: These two are two old gods and both of them have pretty much seen everything.

They're both kind of getting bored of this world and both of you are about to leave when all of a sudden they go into this village and almost get scammed by this Merchant.

The Merchant a bit closed off and had some biting remarks but really after you peel away the exterior they're a softie and genuinely cares for others and oops. Now Foolish and Cornelius see them as their emotional support human.

So they go and just hang out with him for a while. Go and help him get things to stock around his shop and soon after a bit of bonding and near death situations, they go and become close friends.

Foolish and Cornelius knows that they probably should leave and cut off ties with them. They're mortal, they'll die eventually. One day, Cornelius and Foolish will see them die.

But they stay. They stay because they care about them and they want to go and be in their life and cherish these moments. These are the best years that they had in their lives.

Times goes on and they've been friends for like about 7 years. It's now common knowledge that there are two gods in the village and they are best friends with the Merchant up on the hill.

Cornelius in that time fell in love with a certain Catboy and had a child named Robin that everyone dotes on. He's a baby and already he's surrounded by so much love and care from everyone.

And in that time, we have that same Merchant spot the guy who owes him money and then makes off with a sword.

Soon that same Merchant bursts in frantically telling Foolish and Cornelius that they accidentally became the chosen one for this quest after picking up this sword and then having this quest to slay the Crimson beast.

Foolish and Cornelius then go stand up, and say alright. Let's go and help you with this quest then!

They all pack their things, tell the villagers about it, go and tell Robin that they'll be back soon, and leave to go and get this over with.

And they all bond some more and god. None of them know what they're doing but that doesn't mean they're not trying though. They soon also get wrapped up in other quests and welp. Now the three of them are just seen as the legendary heroes and as angels pretty much. That's cool.

They all write letters to the villagers and they get letters back. They all camp under the stars and go and dream of places they'll go after this and Foolish and the Merchant smiles fondly as Cornelius talks about their partner and their son.

Eventually, after two years, they reach the cave and there laid the Crimson Beast.

The fight was easy. It was dead the moment they entered.

They go home with people calling their name in praise and with the happy thought of seeing their loved ones again.

They arrive and they're met with hugs and worried exclaims for them as well as a two-year old child running towards them and being excited to see them.

Things soon return to normal. The village is a bit richer but otherwise the same and that's okay. Everyone is talking to each other and asking about the adventures the three had and laughing at them about it.

The Merchant goes and spoils Robin a bit too much and often goes and teaches him some of the basics of sword-fighting even as Cornelius and Cat says that he is only 8 and that he really shouldn't be learning that so soon. Foolish on the other hand encourages it and that earns a playful shove from his brother.

Then one day, the three of them go out as a little bonding moment. Just a little outing together like old times.

They go into the woods

They go and find a cave they hadn't seen before

All three of them explore it

They find a box

Cornelius grabs the box

Something is in the box

Everything goes black

When Foolish and the Merchant woke up, they find Cornelius missing as well as all their gear and have a sinking, sinking feeling.

Both of them rush to the village only to find that it is now empty and devoid of life. There was nothing there except a person in all green standing in the middle.

(Foolish: Cornelius! Oh thank god. You're okay. What happened!? We woke up and you were gone! Is everyone alright? Where are they?

Merchant: ...Foolish I don't think that's Cornelius anymore.

Foolish: Wha- But it is Cornelius. He looks like him and-

Dream: Right you are my fellow Merchant! I'm not Cornelius! A bit off there little god.

Foolish: ...What did you do to my brother.

Dream: Eh. Nothing he didn't got himself into. Don't worry he's alright. A bit separated from his body and trapped in a box with all the other villagers but he's alright. He's alright. If it is any consolation though, I will say that the little one has escaped.

Merchant: You- You-

Dream: What little Merchant? What will you do? Stab me with the sword? Yeah that's not going to happen. You see, this is still Cornelius' body. If you kill this thing then Cornelius dies. Forever. Do you really want that on your conscious.

Foolish: Let them all go right now.

Dream: Hmmmm. I don't think I will. Anyways, that's enough conversation though. I think it's high time I go and leave. Ta ta!)

...The two of them were left with an empty village and a heavy heart.

With that, Foolish turned to look at the Merchant and told him to move out and find a new village to set up shop at. Tells him to go and live his own life. He's got this. It'll be over before they know it.

And so the Merchant does just that. They both part ways with the hope that they'll meet each other soon.

And then months went by

And then years went by

And then Foolish realized that he has no idea where Dream is and where to start and realized that he doesn't know where his nephew is.

And the Merchant realized that it is likely that they'll never come back and see each other again.

The Merchant tells their child stories about Uncle Foolish and Uncle Cornelius. They tell them amazing stories of adventure and family and have a small, dimming hope that one day they'll see Foolish, Cornelius, and the others again.

Foolish explored the lands searching desperately for his brother, a way to fix this, and his nephew. He has the hope of seeing them again but it is dimming with every passing day.

Years go by

The Merchant dies

Foolish couldn't make it to his funeral

The shop is passed down among the family for years and years. The stories has been passed down and has faded from their memories.

The stories and achievements are long gone to the family, only being told through books of legends and myths.

One day Foolish decides to go and visit the Merchant's shop, now run by their descendant. A descendant from countless, countless years of their family.

They almost went and had a heart attack as they see a person who looks strikingly similar to the Merchant they saw as their second brother all those years ago.

He immediately cries after they ask how they can help him.

(Punz: Oh uh...Oh shit. Uh do you need a hug? I'm sorry if I said anything wrong.

Foolish: No, no, it's just that- *hic* it's just that you look close to an old friend I knew from before

Punz: Oh...I'm sorry. We can go into the back if you want? I can make some hot chocolate if it makes you feel any better.

Foolish: God and you- I'm sorry it's just-

Punz: Hey hey hey, no it's okay. It's okay. You're grieving. This is fine alright? Do you want me to hug you?

Foolish: Please.)

#dream smp #dream smp au #fantasy merchant punz au #foolishg #foolish gamers #tftsmp cornelius #tales from the smp cornelius #dream #dreamwastaken #punz #long post

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP Meme from "Chapter Two: Between the Cracks" in the Bone Gnawers book from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse" Part 2 of 2

"We're screwed."

"Maybe they’ve seen the pure evil that’s waiting to rise up and consume us all."

"Why do we let them suffer like that?"

"Why don’t we just kill them and put them out of their misery?"

"If you’re willing to take the scenic route, I’m happy to tag along with you for a while."

"Long-distance traveling also results in some odd friendships and temporary alliances."

"They’re poor, and they’re proud, and they’re horribly inbred."

"Here in the city, we’ve got culture and civilization."

"Cityfolk think they know everything."

"The fads in the cities come and go."

"My education comes from survival in the wilderness, not that crap on the teevee."

"I can survive without a cell phone, a supermarket, or a dumpster."

"I hunt what I eat and stand by my family."

"Marriage with outsiders is accordingly discouraged."

"I ain’t hiding. I’m waiting. Waiting for the time to strike."

"Hunger drives sane people to desperation."

"Why risk your life in a straight-up fight when the fate of the world is on the line?"

"Werewolves are legendary because of their feral instincts

and shocking acts of violence."

"The names of heroes are remembered; the names of sidekicks, outsiders, and peasants are not."

"Only a few have the courage to stand up and oppose such prejudice."

"They have refused to attend our gatherings."

"They are born innocents, and yet they suffer abuse throughout their lives."

"Many aren’t terribly open (or open-minded) about sex, preferring to keep their liaisons furtive and transient."

"Survival often depends on choosing your battles carefully."

"Don’t stir up trouble in someone else’s home."

"We will see what happens when your throat is in my teeth."

"Don’t speak to me of cowardice when you won’t face me in a fair fight."

"When survival is on the line, there’s no such thing as honor."

"If your opponent is groveling on the ground, it’s fair game to break a few ribs with your steel-toed boots."

"Is it really respect these creatures display?"

"You feel our expressions of submission are insincere?"

"We have submitted in more ways than you can understand; submitted to shame, submitted to scorn, and submitted to prejudice."

"Forgive us if we aren’t willing to let you kick us more when we’re down on all fours."

"If the food a starving man gave you wasn’t good enough, I really have nothing to say in response."

"Do not forget; When our brothers and sisters come to us for help, we help them."

"Someone who cannot survive on his own is a liability to others."

"It is a sad fact of life that people die on the street every day, slowly killed by exhaustion, starvation, inclement weather, hopelessness or loneliness."

"Only a tyrant refuses to listen to the ideas of his lessers."

"It is the custom of tyrannical rulers to enforce continual states of war, using them as an excuse to persecute those who would not support their rule."

"These ladies don’t take crap from anyone."

"Damn uppity women."

"Hey, I live off garbage, but you don’t hear me complaining."

"Fuck ’em. And if you know me, you know I mean that literally."

"We don’t need their help, or their pity."

"Mercy for the weak and downtrodden is one thing. Mercy towards your enemies is another thing entirely. It’s called ‘treason."

"I prefer when they stand up front and I hide in the back.”

"You expect me to say we should be all buddy-buddy with these guys?"

"They’ve got money and power, so we should get all cozy with them, huh?"

"What? It's a job!"

"I'm sick of forests."

"Time to move to the city, eh?"

"They use us, and we use them. They just don’t realize it."

"Hey, I may be a rat, but I ain’t stupid."

"Yes, sir. No, sir. Whatever you say, sir."

"The time to strike is now."

"I'd rather stay here in my cardboard box, if you don’t mind. Mmmm. Nice, safe cardboard."

"We aren’t all that different."

"We stick up for underdogs, and fight to defend them."

"Sounds like we have some common interests, right?"

"Get over it!"

"It's ancient history!"

"Here's a good strategy for survival; avoid anything that

can kill you."

"Our survival depends upon their destruction."

"Stick close by me and don’t say a damn thing. Just keep that gun drawn."

"That’s what street magic is all about; making the best of what you have."

"Best to play it safe. Don’t summon up trouble you can’t put down."

"Yes, I'm an idiot."

"I know what the world is really like. It sucks."

"I won’t make the same mistake again."

"Hey, you want to see the scar?"

"I mean, who really expects to see a giant shapechanging dinosaur in a place like Chicago or Manhattan, right?"

"Thanks for the ride! This is where I get off."

"It’s like someone has clogged all the toilets of the city, and hideous vampires are creeping up back into the streets again in numbers never seen before."

"Life isn't always so serious."

"Less dangerous hazards include rebellious ghouls, hitchhiking wraiths, and straight-up psychotic human predators."

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay starters #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #owod #wta #World Of Darkness #Werewolf the Apocalypse #bone gnawers

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

Text

Anonymous asked: Have you watched Lupin? What did you think? (And are you a fan of the books or other adaptations of the character?)

The short answer is yes, I have seen Lupin on Netflix. Overall I enjoyed it so long as I suspended my disbelief at certain things.

Unfortunately it took being struck down by Covid and being bedridden for me to actually to binge watch the whole series. So I was behind the curve when my friends, French and those outside of France, started to talk about it around me. I had to beg them not to give away spoilers until I had seen it all.

It did surprise me that it won rave widespread reviews outside France because usually French drama series don’t travel very well outside of France. I’m sure even Netflix had no idea how successful it would be for them. I’m sure being in Covid lockdown had something to do with it. In any case I don’t begrudge its success as it’s well earned.

However I wasn’t too surprised that within France itself the French reviews were decidely mixed and divisive. The critic at Le Point painfully hit the nail on the head when he wrote, “Le plus gros défaut de l'ensemble reste la pauvreté des personnages, tous unidimensionnels, caricaturaux et aussi épais que du papier à cigarette.“ - loosely translated as, ‘the biggest flaw of the whole thing remains the poverty of the characters, all one-dimensional, cartoonish and as thick as cigarette paper’.

There’s a growing amount of good French stuff on TV and streaming services but a non-French audience will not have had the chance to have seen all of it yet. I can think of any number of French television drama/dramedy/cmedy series that are much better than Lupin with better plots, characters, and even a truer perspective of French society and even modern day France (Dix pour cent (Call My Agent!), Le Bureau des Légendes, Engrenages, Baron Noir, and Paris Police 1900). But you would be hard pressed to find anything that comes close to Lupin just for the sake of something fun to watch during the Covid lockdown.

What makes the current generation of home made French television series so interesting is how much of it is a reflection of France’s own anxieities about itself and its role in a increasingly English speaking dominating world. In a funny way it sees itself as defiant plucky Asterix fighting off the Roman American cultural hordes from totally invading their Francophone culture.

For sure, it has societal and racial issues stemming from its colonial legacy and issues of immigration and integration (France has the largest Muslim population in Europe). However it seems to want to ‘resolve’ these issues through the almost sacramental adherence to French secularist ideals rather than American inspired ideas of social justice and equity. There’s always been something very admirable about the French - from the time of General de Gaulle and perhaps before - always swinging from snooty ambivalence to outright antipathy towards the influence of American culture ‘americanising’ French culture (no to Walmarts or fast food chains for example).

Is it any wonder then that Netflix’s ill-conceived American series ‘Emily in Paris’ was widely hated and mocked within France for just perpetuating those lazy American tropes of Paris and French culture?

Personally I know Francophile Americans, long resident in Paris, who were frankly embarrassed and spent a lot of time apologising to their French friends. I have one American friend who has told me that she was so mad that she would have blind folded Emily and shoved her hard in the car boot and drive her all the way to the poorest of the banlieues in the grimey crime saturated suburbs of Paris - Seine-Saint-Denis came to mind - and dump her preening arse there. She would slap her and tell the spoilt entitied brat to make her own way back home - you know, to her spacious apartment in one of the most expensive arrondissements of Paris that of course(!) any American intern working for French marketing firms can afford.

I digress. My apologies. Watching this God awful show gives me PTSD.

Onto Lupin.

Thankfully Lupin doesn’t try to play to non-French tropes of what Paris is or isn’t. It does skim the surface of current discontents within French culture and society (race, class, power, and money) but ever so lightly so as to not get in the way of just spinning a good crowd pleasing yarn. It invites you to have fun and not to think too much. I have to be honest and say I enjoyed it as long as I suspended my disbelief here and there.

Lupin refers of course to the character Arsène Lupin, the French gentleman thief who stole jewellery from Parisian haute bourgeois and aristocracy at the turn of the century. Lupin, as written in the novels and short stories by Maurice Leblanc between 1905 and his death in 1941, was the archetypical anti-hero, a Robin Hood who stole from those who deserved it but kept the loot himself. He was often portrayed often a force for good, while operating on the wrong side of the law.

Lupin never really made much of an impact outside of France as he had within France where is revered with many French film and television adaptations. In England, we already had a Lupin type character in the form of A.J. Raffles, a cricket playing gentleman thief with his aristocratic side kick, Bunny. E.W. Horning’s stories of Raffles’ daring heists proved to be quite popular with the British public when Raffles first appeared on the scene in 1898. And even later Leslie Charteris’ The Saint took over the mantle from Raffles as the gentleman thief/adventuring Robin Hood.

I think Hollywood tried to introduce him to an English speaking audience (legendary actor John Barrymore even played him) but he didn’t really take off and eventually they found their gentleman thief archetype in Sir Charles Lytton aka The Phantom (played by David Niven and Christopher Plummer) in the Pink Panther movies. So Lupin never got the English audience he deserved.

I first got wind of who Arsène Lupin was when I was growing up in Japan as a child. As strange as it sounds Lupin was big in Japan especially after World War Two. The Japanese did their own take on the Lupin character using Japanese actors and plot lines but it was Lupin.

I don’t know how exactly but I remember watching these scratchy DVDs of these Lupin inspired films. I think it was one of my parents’ Japanese friends who was mad for all things Lupin and he had studied French literature in France. Jogging my memory I now recall these black & white films were done in the 1950s. One starred Keiji Sada and the other version I remember was with Eija Okada (he was in Resnais’ classic film, Hiroshima Mon Amour) as Arsene Lupin called (I think) Kao-no Nai Otoko. I didn’t understand most of it at the time because it was all in Japanese and my Japanese (at the time) was pitiful, but it looked fun.

There was even a Japanese manga version of Lupin which was called Lupin III, - so named because he was the grandson of the real Arsène Lupin.

The 1960s manga series spawned generations of TV series which I do remember watching and finding it terribly exciting if somewhat confusing.

It was French expatriate friends whom my family knew that introduced me to the real Arsène Lupin. They had a few of the books authored by Maurice Leblanc. It was in French so I read them to improve my French but enjoyed the story along the way.

I also remember them showing me scratchy episodes of the 1970s Franco-German TV series ‘Arsène Lupin’ with the monocle wearing Georges Descrières in the lead role. It was a classical re-telling of the adventures of the aristocratic gentleman-burglar and very family friendly viewing. I don’t really remember much of it to be honest.

It was some years before I actually started to read more of the Maurice Leblanc’s novels and short stories collection. I have them all now. I was a teen and I remember being stuck in a snowed in a Swiss Alpine chalet and with nothing else to do but pull out a few dog eared books from the bookshelves belonging to our French host and read to pass the time.

I read Les Dents du tigre, Arsène Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes, and Les Huit Coups de l'horloge and thoroughly enjoyed them in the original French. I was already reading classic detective and mystery novels (Sherlock Holmes, Poirot etc) so it was natural to read the adventures of Arsène Lupin.

I haven’t got around to reading all the novels and short stories but I have read most of them and I enjoyed them all immensely. In the same way Conan Doyle, through Holmes and Watson, manages to conjure a convincing picture of late Victorian and early Edwardian England, so Leblanc manages to give us a taste of Belle Epoque France through the eyes of his suave gentleman-thief, Arsène Lupin.

Indeed it's a lot like reading Sherlock Holmes in that you're always trying to figure out how he did it, but the difference is that you are rooting for the bad guy. You can’t help but be drawn to this gentleman thief who is charming, comic, playful, and romantic and generous. Lupin is not an intellectual puzzle-solver but first a master criminal, later a detective helper, who maintains his curious ethics throughout his adventures. In this regard he is very much the anti-Sherlock Holmes; and I wasn’t disappointed when I actually read the story where Lupin faces off with Holmes himself. Brilliant!

I’ve also seen the 2004 French movie with Romain Duris in the Lupin lead role and it also starred the majestic Kristin Scott Thomas and the sexy Eva Green.

It was a decent adventure flick and it was a clear confluence of different Lupin novels (The Queen's Necklace (introducing Lupin's childhood), The Hollow Needle (where the treasure is the macguffin of the story), The Arrest of Arsène Lupin (the gala on the ship as a backdrop) and Josephine Balsamo, (one of Lupin’s most memorable opponents in the The Countess Of Cagliostro).

Romaine Duris, a fine classical actor, was I felt miscast because he didn’t have Lupin’s levity of wit and be at ease within himself. I love Duris in his other films but in Arsène Lupin and even in his other film, Moliere, he seemed ill at ease with the role. Perhaps that’s just me.

The latest Netflix adaptation (or reimagining to be more precise) is a welcome addition to the world of Arsène Lupin.If you don’t over-think it, it’s bags of fun.

Omar Sy is immensely likeable. Sy is a deservedly a big star in France - he won the best actor César for “The Intouchables,” an international hit - and has played forgettable secondary characters in big-budget American special effects movies (he was Chris Pratt’s assistant in “Jurassic World” and a minor mutant in “X-Men: Days of Future Past”). It was reportedly his desire to play Arsène Lupin, whom he’s compared to James Bond (“fun, funny, elegant”), that led to the series, created by British writer George Kay. And it is on his charm that the series largely, though not entirely, rests.

So the basic story revolves around a jewellery heist. Sy plays Assane Diop, a first-generation French-Senegalese man in contemporary Paris. A collection of Lupin stories, a gift from his father - whose undeserved fate Assane set himself to avenge in long-delayed, Count of Monte Cristo style upon a criminal tycoon - has made the actual Lupin books a foundation of his life and profitably illicit career. This fan-ship goes as far as borrowing practical ideas from the stories and constructing aliases out of anagrams of “Arsene Lupin,” a habit that will attract the interest of a low-level police detective (Soufiane Guerrab as Youssef Guedira) who shares Assane’s love of the books. (That the detective also shares an initial with Lupin’s own adversary, Inspector Ganimard, is possibly not a coincidence.)

Among the many comic delights of Lupin, is an unspoken one. Time and again, the show’s hero, master thief Assane Diop is able to slip into a place unnoticed, or by assuming a minor disguise that prevents witnesses from providing an accurate description of him to law enforcement.

Why is this funny?

Because Omar Sy is six feet three (and, since most actors are short, seems even taller), is roughly as wide as soccer pitch, and is memorable even before he flashes his infectious million-Euro smile. This is not a man for whom anonymity should be possible - even allowing for racial bias in a majority-white country, Assane would be memorable and distinctive - and Lupin seems cheekily aware of this. Like the various incredible sleights of hand Assane deploys to pull off his thefts and escapes, his ability to be anyone, anywhere, is treated more as a superpower than as something even the world’s greatest criminal would be able to pull off.

At one point, when he’s slated for a cable news appearance as a much older man, we learn that Assane is also a master of disguise. The revelation of this skill arrives with a wink in the show, and it feels pointless to ask where he learned it, or how he affords movie-quality latex and makeup. Or rather, asking the question feels wrong.

We know this is impossible, the show seems to be asking its viewers again and again, but isn’t it so much fun?

The performances and the production - it has that particularly European filmic quality of feeling natural even when it gets stylish - keep the series warm even as the plot is made up of incredulous contraptions that require everything to go right at just the right time and for human psychology to be 100% predictable. Its physics are classical rather than quantum, one might say, and like the world itself, which becomes more curious the deeper you peer into things, it is best handled along the surface. You do not want to take too much time working out the likelihood of any of this happening. Just go along for the ride.

Somehow, though, it all works because Sy is so magnetic and charming that questioning plot logic feels wildly besides the point. Though he never looks appreciably different in his various aliases (including one ill-conceived live-TV appearance done under old-man makeup and a thick beard), he changes his posture and voice ( if you watch it in French that is) enough to allow for the willing suspension of disbelief, in the same way that any lead actor as Superman has to do when playing Clark Kent. But Sy and the show are at their strongest when Assane is just being his own Superman self, utterly relaxed and confident in his own skin, and so captivating that his ex-partner, Claire, can’t really resist him despite ample reason to.

If Assane seems practically perfect in every way, he is not perfectly perfect. His most obvious failing is that his criminal shenanigans and revenging make him less than reliable in his daily life, affecting his relationships with ex-partner Claire (Ludivine Sagnier, whom non-French audiences might recognise from “The Young Pope” and “The New Pope”), who despairs of his inability to show up on time to see his son Raoul (Etan Simon). Like Sy, Sagnier brings a lot of soul to her part - though onscreen far less, she’s as important as Sy to the series’ success - and the two actors have great chemistry. Also impressive and key to creating sympathy are the actors who play their flashback teenage selves, Mamadou Haidara and Ludmilla Makowski. Really, you could do away with action elements and build a series around them.

This is a pity because Lupin often fumbles its emotional reveals in other parts - the story of Diop being torn between his job and his family feels like wheel-spinning, rather than genuine emotional intrigue.

Soufiane Guerrab is wasted in the Young Detective Consumed by the Case role and spends most of this season pinning colour printouts of book covers to cork boards and getting waved off by his colleagues, who are all blinded or otherwise hampered by careerism.

But to my mind the weakest link is the villain himself and his daughter. Veteran actor Hervé Pierre hams it up as Hubert Pellegrini, a business tycoon who is the patriarch of the Pellegrini family. He just comes across as animated cartoon villain with no character depth (think moustache twirling Russian villain, Boris Badenov, in the Rocky & Bullwinkle cartoon shows). He just emotes anger a lot without any nuance or hint of complexity.

Even Clotilde Hesme who plays the daughter who is unaware of her father’s criminal tendencies is miscast. For the record I adore Clotilde Hesme as she one of France’s most talented classical actresses (that non-French outsiders will not have heard of). She is a classically theatre trained actress and is one of the best stage actresses of her generation that I have ever seen. I’ve seen her in plays where she is just mesmerising. She has said before that she’s more comfortable on the stage than she is on the screen. And when she has been on screen she still has been a powerful presence. She’s actually won a César too. Here in Lupin, she seems to have no agency and looks bored with nothing really to do.I really hope they give her more scenes in the next part of Lupin.

The series is at its best when following Diop enacting his plans, and when revealing each one from a different vantage, making us privy to every moving part like a magician revealing his secrets. The show captures the momentum of a clockwork heist, the tension of sudden obstacles and the ingenuity of improvised responses, with thrilling precision (especially in “Chapter 1 - Le Collier de la reine,” directed by Now You See Me’s Louis Leterrier).

Lupin is also politically incisive when it wants to be; it brings to mind Ladj Ly’s Oscar-nominated 2019 film Les Misérables, which adapted the broad strokes of Victor Hugo’s novel about the 1832 Paris Rebellion, and modernised the story by focusing on the police brutality faced by non-white Parisians.

Lupin opens with Diop disguised as cleaning staff and entering the Louvre after-hours, alongside dozens of forgotten, anonymous non-white workers as they pass by “La Liberté guidant le people,” Eugène Delacroix’s famous painting of the July Revolution of 1830 which replaced France’s hereditary rule with popular sovereignty.

Before any semblance of plot or character, Lupin centres broken ideals and promises unkept (without giving too much away, the show’s primary villain has much more nationalistic view of French culture and history which merely adds to a cartoonish caricature than a complex character). The rest of the episode is about valuable jewels once owned by Marie Antionette - one of the most recognisable symbols of wealth and extravagance in times of extreme poverty - which are put up for auction by the Pelligrini family, and bid on by other wealthy collectors with bottomless purses and no sense of irony.

Granted, beyond this auction subplot, explorations of race and class are largely limited to individual interactions, but the show continues to refer back to (and implicitly comment on) its source material in ways that wink at the audience. An elderly, unassuming target of Diop’s schemes seems like an unlikely victim at first - Diop, though he acts in his own self-interest, usually displays a moral compass - until this victim reveals the colonial origins of her wealth, immediately re-contextualising the ethics of the situation, in a manner that Leblanc’s stories did not. (The show is yet to apply this lens to Arsène Lupin himself, who Diop treats with reverence, but that’s a secondary concern since Lupin is entirely fictional in-world).

Barring some nagging structural problems - like cutting to flashbacks when things are getting exciting, or epilogues that feel ten minutes too long - Lupin mostly works. It plants a few personal seeds early on, which it keeps hinting at without fully addressing, but by the time its scattered elements come into focus, the show finally figures out how to weave them together, and delivers a mid-season cliffhanger that renders many of these flaws irrelevant.

Lupin manages to have fun even with an antiquated premise - the story of a suave con-man who charms his way through high-profile robberies - while adding just enough new spin on the concept to feel refreshing. Omar Sy may not have much to work with, but his alluring presence makes Assane Diop feel like a worthy successor to Arsène Lupin.

Lupin isn’t going to win César, BAFTA, or Emmy awards, or even turn heads for its ability to develop tertiary or even secondary plots or characters - that doesn’t really matter. You’re there to see a difficult hero be difficult and heroic - everyone else is there to be charmed, vexed, or eluded by them. Sy’s performance bounds off the screen, and is almost musical. He floats through scenes like he glides over the roofs and through the back alleys of Paris; he outmanoeuvres his foes with superior literary references and sheer athleticism. He is irresistible and also good at everything he tries, even kidnapping.

I would encourage anyone to watch Lupin for a fun care free ride. But the only caveat I would make is watch it in the original French.

If you don’t know French then put on the subtitles to understand (that’s what they are there for). The real crime is to watch this (or any film or television series) dubbed in a foreign language. It’s disrespectful to the actors and film makers and it’s silly because it’s comical to watch something dubbed over.

Please watch it in the original French.

Then go and read the books. You won’t regret it.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #lupin #omar sy #netflix #tv show #culture #personal #arsene lupin #japan #maurice leblanc #france #french #society #arts

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scarasimplysimping · 3 years

Text

These Books Of You

Xingqiu x Adepti Reader

Sypnosis: A boy of noble blood and disciple to the Guhua Clan, Xingqiu has been reading books of the heroic adventures of an elusive adepti, [Y/N] ever since he was a little boy.

Now a bit older, he sets everything aside in a journey to meet you.

(A/N): I planned to put it all in one post but like it wouldn't fit. Part 2 link below.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar.

It was midnight. All of liyue was quiet and asleep except for a certain room where you could here the rustling sound of packing made by a young man eager to leave before dusk.

"Are you sure about this?" Chongyun asks, catching his breath after climbing his friend's window.

"Most definitely!" Xingqiu says excitedly as he picks out the books he would be bringing.

Chongyun furrows his eyebrows, "You don't even have a plan!"

"These books are my plan," The dark haired boy says in a wise tone.

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

Xingqiu chuckles in response.

Chongyun begins to rant again. "Where will you go? Where will you search? What will you eat? What if you get mugged?"

Xingqiu laughs harder, "My friend, I appreciate your concern but I assure you. Nothing you say will change my mind. I will search all of Teyvat if I must."

"What if they don't exist? What if it's all fiction? Mere children's fairytales."

This makes Xingqiu stop in his tracks, contemplating the possibility for a few moments before coming to the conclusion, "They are real. I can feel it."

"And what of your family? Your brother?"

"I've left them a letter."

"What will they do with the letter? Teach it chivalry?" Chongyun says sarcastically.

Xingqiu does not bother to reply.

The exorcist sighs in defeat, "Xingqiu, if you don't come back alive, I will kill you."

"Then perhaps it's best if I don't come completely," He teases.

"Then I shall kill you right now and you won't get to leave at all."

The two friends bicker like this for a while until it is time for one's departure.

"Be careful, Xingqiu," Chongyun bids.

"I will. Make sure my family doesn't do anything rash while I'm gone."

The light haired boy rolls his eyes.

"Dear Chongyun, If in any case I don't come back, know that I've always appreciated your friendship."

And just like that, Xingqiu climbs out the window and disappears into the dark of night.

In the early afternoon, you sat peacefully, having tea with Cloud Retainer and Zhongli atop of Mt. Aozang. The breeze was nice and so was the view.

"It's a shame only we came to this tea party. It's been ages since we've gathered with the adeptus," The geo archon spoke.

"This is not a petty tea party. One has called a meeting to discuss the next move regarding a matter of great importance," Cloud Retainer retorted.

"And what might this matter be?" You ask while slouching on your seat, showing no interest.

"One has come to notice that ever since the incident of Osial's return and defeat, mortal's have come to One's domain asking for favors or offering goods much more times than One is comfortable with. The mortal, Aether has also-"

Cloud Retainer could not finish because the sound of your intentionally loud sigh interrupted her.

"Is the almighty Cloud Retainer scared of mortal affection and admiration?" You tease. Even Zhongli could not help but smile a bit.

Cloud Retainer threw you both a look that.. well you could only assume was a glare since she was in the shape of a bird after all.

The light-hearted argument continues until you here a soft grunting from a distance.

You all pause, listening as the voice becomes louder and louder and then, you see a hand grip the edge of the mountain, then another. A dark blue haired young man lifts himself up and throws himself onto the mountain surface, panting heavily.

"Oh.. Sweet.. sweet ground.," He says. You can almost hear him thank the Archons that he's made it this far.

"And what is your purpose of interrupting an important gathering?" Cloud Retainer's voice boomed.

Xingqiu blinked a bit before remembering why he was here in the first place. Quickly, he got up and bowed, still woozy from all the climbing. "I've been traveling for two days, seeking an adepti. I've heard that there's another adepti who lives here and I respectfully ask guidance in my journey," he says, still in a bowing position.

Zhongli recognizes him, "Xingqiu, are you not a little to far from Liyue Harbor?"

Xingqiu, in turn also recognizes the man but dares not question Zhongli's purpose. His only concern was finding you. "Please don't tell my family, Mister Zhongli."

You decide to entertain the mortal, "Well Xingqiu of Liyue Harbor, which adepti is it that you're looking for?"

Only then does he make eye contact with you, Xingqiu is taken in by your beauty. He stares a little too long before answering, "The heroic (Y/N)! The legendary adepti of great legends! They who saved thousands of lives and vanquished thousands more foes!" He says enthusiastically.

You are dumbfounded, never have you been sought after by a mortal for your heroic deeds. This was new. "And where do these legends come from?" You ask nervously.

"The books I've read! I've read every single one of the books that mention them."

Conveniently, you remember that time, thousands of years ago where you saved a family of writers who thanked you relentlessly and swore they'd write of your heroics.

While you are contemplating, Cloud Retainer speaks, "Look no further, mortal. The one you seek is here," She gestures to you.

You glare at her. "Is the mighty (Y/N) scared of mortal affection and admiration?" She mocks.

Xingqiu stares at you, trying to imprint this moment into his brain. "You... you weren't what I was expecting."

"And what were you expecting exactly?" You ask, offended.

"To be honest, I assumed you looked like a bird or fox! I was not expecting someone human and... beautiful." He says almost absent-mindedly.

Beautiful? As in attractive to a mortal's eyes? How dare he use such methods of flattery.

"How long will you stay with-"

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Zhongli and Cloud Retainer decide it was best for them to leave, they quietly dismiss themselves and leave you alone in this awkward situation.

The young man before you just stares at you with dazzled eyes.

"Now that you've found me, what do you plan?" You finally question.

Xingqiu stops for a moment. He didn't really think this far and didn't expect to find you so soon.

"I want to be your friend," Xingqiu blurts out.

You are again, taken aback by his straight-forwardness.

This was unnecessary. A mortal of such fleeting lifespan. How would this benefit you? This wouldn't benefit him either; you think to yourself. This is nothing but mortal entertainment. You had no interest in entertaining a mortal at your expense.

"I have no need for mortal company," You say firmly, all your nervousness replaced with a cold gaze.

"Please? I've dreamt of meeting you my whole life-"

"And now you have. Go."

"I swear to the Seven Archons I shall serve you well-"

"No!" This time, you raise your voice. "Go home," and with that, you vanish into thin air.

Xingqiu is sad and dejected, even on verge of tears but he does his best to keep it together. "Very well," He quietly whispers.

Xingqiu, climbing down the mountain is several feet away from the ground when his mind wonders back to you and the harsh rejection. "Well it's not like an adepti to mortal friendship is common anyway. At least I got to meet them," He says, trying to look on the bright side. He assures himself that he will return.

Tears start bluring his vision and he takes a wrong step, causing him to plummet down and make a loud thump sound.

He groans in pain. For the most part, he was unharmed except for his right hand which was twisted in a weird position.

"Drat! Xingqiu, how pathetic can you be? You fall and just had to break your right arm, you're sword hand!" He scolds himself.

The good part of this was that it was nightfall now, if he was lucky, all the hilichurls around the area would be asleep and he could avoid combat.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans as he sees a hydro abyss mage that he could have sworn was not there before. And the abyss mage sees him.

Xingqiu curses and tries to make a run for it, but as he was still limping from the fall, the mage catches up to him and teleports in front of him. Xingqiu stumbles backwards. In a desperate attempt, he shouts your name. But the abyss mage wasn't going to wait for you to show up. The young man suddenly feels himself getting drowned. So was this it? Rejected by a childhood dream, almost fell to his death and was currently being drowned? What a weird day. What a sad way to die. It's almost poetic. Xingqiu was slowly beginning to lose consciousness, coming to terms with this tragic death when he felt the bubble burst, quite literally.

He fell to the ground, the last thing he saw was the vanishing particles of a defeated abyss mage and what appeared to be a silhouette of a person- Xingqiu was saved!... and falling unconscious.

After you rescued him, you hurriedly brought him to Wangshu Inn, blurting out to Verr Goldet that you almost let a mortal die.

You paced back and fourth at the terrace. While the vigilant yaksha, Xiao watches you with annoyance.

"What if he dies?" You ask frantically.

"You dressed his wounds quiet well. He won't die unless someone comes in and murders him," Xiao says as if trying to be comforting.

Xingqiu awakens from his slumber, body still aching. A cast of bandages was made in order to support his broken arm.

The door slowly opens, you walk in with some hot soup and set it on the bedside table. It didn't take him long to realize that you were the one who saved him.

"You're awake," You state the obvious but almost sigh in relief. "Despite the attack, you managed to go almost unscathed.. except for well, your broken arm."

"Thank you... You really are my hero," Xingqiu says, once again beaming at you.

"Don't come back to Mt. Aozang,"

"Wait- what?" His face falls. And all the feelings of being rejected earlier come back.

"If...," You hesitantly start, "If you must see me, then I spend one night a week at the statue of Pervases." This was a lie, of course. But you were willing to do as you said if that meant the mortal, Xingqiu would stop going through such dangerous measures in order to meet you.

As if like a switch, his bright smile returned almost instantly. "My liege, you won't regret this!"

"Drink your soup and meet me at the terrace when you're prepared to return for Liyue Harbor." You don't know why you say what you say next but it felt right, "and call me (Y/N)."

You shut the door behind yourself quickly, leaving Xingqiu alone in the room, euphoric.

"You should not get too close to mortals," Xiao warns once you reach the terrace.

"I will not."

"In the thousand that I've known you, never once have I seen you prepare soup for a mortal.. or immortal."

"That means nothing."

"And I suppose your made up visits to the statue of Pervases mean nothing as well?"

He had a point there."Don't eavesdrop on my conversations, Alatus."

He glares at the sudden mention of the name. "Their lives are fleeting, (Y/N). The peace at the end of their journey is just a thousand years of grief for us if we so choose to befriend them. I just warn you because I care for you," Xiao says before vanishing from your sight.

He was right. You knew that. Of all the adepti, Xiao knew you the most. He was there when the mortal part of you was taken away in exchange for eternal life, after all.

You loved once. But that did not end well.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar

Never again.

Shortly after Xiao's departure, Xingqiu arrives with that ever so charming smile.

Charming? Did you just think that? Right after promising yourself to solitude? Oh dear...

"I've prepared! Will we go on foot or will you fly us there? I must warn you I get motion sick-" He stops talking when he notices you taking steps toward him. You put a hand on his shoulder and Xingqiu's mind goes blank. Was this approval? Mutual admiration? Were you friends now?

"Close your eyes," You tell him.

To which he obeys without hesitation. He's read enough romance books to know where this is going. Xingqiu would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous but at the same time he was extremely excited. His train of thought is cut short when he feels a harsh gust of wind blow his way.

"You may open them now."

He does and to his surprise, the both of you are back at Liyue Harbor, specifically the bridge.

"We... teleported?" He asks, embarrassed of his thoughts just moments ago.

You nod. "This is as far as I'll go. Make it back to your residence carefully and get some rest."

"Can't you come with me?"

"No."

"I have a friend who-"

"No."

"We can grab some countryside delicacy-"

"No."

He sighs in defeat, "But I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"

"Perhaps."

Xingqiu, in a moment of elation and not thinking properly, abruptly takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles.

Realizing what he had done the dark haired boy glows red as apples and lets go as quick as he took hold of you. "W-well... good-bye then."

The boy leaves you dumbfounded once again.

Part 2

#xingqiu x reader #xingqiu #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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static-fanatic-1 · 3 years

Text

Day Two

-| Stuck at A StandStill |-

StandStill: Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Foul Language, Bullying.

Komori didn't really appreciate being in second place. Out of everyone in his school he went against one of the weakest students, and yet he got second in a two person race.

That isn't something to be proud of.

And it made his blood boil to no end.

With a bubbling jealousy and a rough plan in mind, the second day of U.A would be the beginning of his call to action. Of course he had some help, another student who resented class 1-A. He was blond and had a stare that pierced daggers through anyone he looked at. He had a smile that called you an asshole and an attitude that was too envious even for Komori.

His name was Monoma, and he would help him finally break Aiko down. Once she's out of the way with a mind as malleable as clay, he'll be able to shape her into his ideal version of herself. It'll be easy, just a little bit of manipulation to do so.

Komori sauntered his way into the school. His uniform was loose and he didn't bother fixing the tie around his neck. As long as he has the components of his uniform the teachers won't bother him.

His plum eyes glanced around at the students piling into the school, each one different than the others. Some had spiraling blue hair and doe like eyes while others had fur like manes. Teeth, horns, tails and more created a mythical atmosphere while some people had mechanical parts attached to their limbs. Some people even looked normal, well as normal as someone can be in a quirk infested world.

The bat child wasn't paying attention, and his shoulder bumped into someone else. "Tsk, watch it." He growled, turning to face the kid beside him.

He was tall, about as tall as Komori minus his ears, and they both shared a pair of glasses. Though he smiled, nervously, a extended his hand in good fortune. "I'm sorry about that, I'll take better care in watching where I am going."

Komori's sharp teeth gleamed past his pink lips. "Yeah, whatever." He turned his body away and waved his wings behind his back to dismiss the other student. "Just stay out of my way."

Iida furrowed his brows and pursed his lips in a scowl. "What a... nice fellow." He whispered, watching the bat saunter further into the school. Iida pushes up his glasses and turned to his locker.

Behind him he could hear heavy breathing and the clatter of shoes. He turned and waved his hand, shutting his own locker in the process. "Hello Aiko! Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! I just woke up late." She brushed her curly pink bangs from her sweaty forehead.

"Late? You're early, there are fifteen minutes before the ten minute bell."

Aiko whipped her head around with a pause. "Wait, what time is it?"

Iida lifted his wrist and pulled back his sleeve. "It is five minutes past eight."

"Really?! My alarm must have been off." She lightly chuckled, it was nervous and stressed. "I'll have to fix that when I get home. Uh, how have you been, Iida?"

He smacked a hand onto his chest and happily smiled. "My day is going wonderfully so far! And you?"

Aiko blushed. "I'm doing good." She shut her locker and fixed her backpack. "I guess we should go ahead and head to class huh?"

"Of course! All the top students are early to class!" Iida grabbed Aiko's hand and dragged her to the classroom with a grin plastered onto his strong features.

The hallways were the most uncrowded Aiko has ever seen. Being so early meant most of the students hung out around the lockers, conversing about whatever came to mind. Most seemed to be second or third years, while a few were first years who wanted to know the ropes.

Iida stopped near the door, not exactly in front of it, but close enough to not raise suspicion. Though, she should have guess something was wrong with someone as meticulous as Iida.

She glanced past his broad shoulder and was greeted with a face full of leathery wings. "Oh look who it is. The twat and the slapper. Seems they don't care who gets into class 1-a."

Iida moved back a bit, kinda stumbling over Aiko in the process. "Twat? Slapper?" He furrowed his brows at the insults, wait, were they even insults?

"You heard me." Komori pushed, stretching out his large wings to size Iida up. "Twat." Plum eyes scanned the figure behind Iida, a toothy grin stretching across his lips. "And slapper."

Aiko bit her lip, now the time to grow a backbone, she thought. He can insult me as much as he wanted but insulting a friend was out of the question. 'Say something. Tell him off!'

"Are you just going to stand there, mouth open like a fish out of water?" He mused, sidestepping to face her fully. "Or are you too terrified?" He leaned down, sharp teeth only a few inches away from nipping at her nose.

"Leave her alone." Snapped Iida, placing a large hand upon the aggressors shoulder. "There is a zero tolerance for bullying at U.A."

"Tsk, like that matters." The bat shrugged off the hand with a scoff, turning his back and ruffling with wings once more. His thin tail swished behind his lanky form with a newfound vigor. As if he enjoyed the challenge despite being seemingly annoyed. "But seriously, this is what the legendary class 1-A has to offer? A kid who can run fast and some girl with a useless quirk? Where's the competition?"

"Leave us alone, Komori. If we aren't worth your time why are you wasting it?" Snapped Aiko, finally building a bit of a backbone.

Komori turned and glared, his signature grin now faltering into something of mixed surprise and malice. He didn't need words to tell her to shut her pretty little mouth.

The tension was high and the thickness of the air could only be cut through with a sharp blade. Luckily, it seemed Iida was that sharp blade. He placed a warm hand on the small of her back to support the backbone. "We'll be taking our leave." Iida's tone was sharp, strong and defensive, warning Komori to back off and leave them alone before things get too ugly.

Komori watched with a malevolent glare through his shimmering glasses. "Just needed to make sure you knew your place."

The two students of class 1-A watched the bat walk away, his figure disappearing behind the doorframe of the class over. There was a pregnant silence between Aiko and Iida as they entered their classroom.

They were the only ones so far, so they stood next to each other and soaked in the new student they met. "Aiko, May I ask you a question?"

She hummed in approval, placing her bag down and giving him her undivided attention.

"Komori... do you know him?"

"Oh, yeah. We went to the same school ever since we were kids. He... always bullied me. I'm kind of used to it by now." She gave a small chuckle and avoided eye contact. Instead she decided her sketchbook cover was far more interesting than Iida's concerned eyes. "I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's all bark no bite."

Iida has never been bullied, at least not to his face. Every once in a while in middle school, a student would talk about him behind his back. Thing like his strange body language, intelligence, or physical appearance. He never thought too much about it, only that they must be jealous of his hard work. Still, that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Well, tell me if you have any problem then." His hand pointed to Aiko and a comforting smile stretched across his thin lips.

"Th-thank you. I appreciate it." She really did, it wasn't everyday someone would help her stand up to a past bully. It actually never happened, not even her past teachers did anything other than scolding Komori.

Iida sat down in his seat and awaited the start of class. She guessed the conversation was over. Though it didn't feel over, Aiko couldn't help but linger on the kindness from her classmate. His words echoed trough her head as she sketched away her future hero costume. She made a few changes from her current costume, some she actually liked, but she could do that once she goes big after school.

Once she became a hero, all of her problems would fade away to nothing. All she'll have to do is battle against her family's killer: All for One.

The door to the classroom opened, the green haired boy labeled Izuku shuffling into the room. More students entered, each one with their own gait.

Then there was the teacher, he really was a strange man. He still looked like a gruff cat of sorts with yellow goggles. The scarf around his neck hung loosely on top his slouched shoulders. In his hands was a small stack of papers, he straightened them up in the pedestal in front of the class and readied himself for the rest of the students.

Once class started, Mr. Aizawa cleated his throat and began. "Today I am going to give you the class syllabus. I would read it carefully and thoroughly, if you don't you will miss something important." He flipped to the back of one of the papers. "We will need your parent's signature and your own, as well as a class fee and other important information. Again, look over it completely. You need to turn it in by this Friday."

~~~

Nothing too important happened, introductions, classes, teachers. Some were eccentric like the Voice Hero Present Mic, and some were... R-rated like Midnight.

Still, Aiko was giddy with excitement. She would be taught by heroes! Professional heroes! The young girl couldn't help but bounce her leg beneath her desk, tap her pencil on her sketchbook, and nibble her lip between her teeth.

She dug her hands into her backpack to fish out her binder. One section for each class, right now with different syllabuses and paperwork. She already took out her pen and signed everything, so she just had to ask Ms. Takahashi to do her part.

Aiko wasn't too focused on the door, well, until it burst open with s gust of wind. "Hahaha! Hello there!"

Everyone jumped from their seats with a newfound vigor, yelping and jumping with smiles that rivaled his own. All Might! In class 1-A! "All Might!" Even Aiko couldn't handle her excitement!

He continued to chuckle, swaying his way inside with Aizawa and shutting the door behind him. "Hello young heroes! I would introduce myself but I'm sure you already know who I am! Number one hero-" he turned to his side and flexed his muscles to the class "ALL MIGHT!!"

Out of everyone in the class, no one was as excited as Aiko. Even that kid with the freckles and green hair had nothing on the beaming smile and jumping Aiko was doing. She couldn't help it! All Might was more than her hero! He was kinda like a messiah for anyone in the Hero community! And Aiko was becoming a hero!

"This year will be an eventful one, as I have decided to help train the new generation of aspiring heroes!" He returned to standing straight and tall, towering over everyone in the room. He set his fists on his hips and continued. "I, as well as all the other teachers, will do our best to mold you into fine, young heroes! Bravery! Integrity! Compassion and hope are all necessary for someone to be the best hero they can be!”

He threw his head in a cheerful laugh, the entire class clapping from the small speech. All of them would become heroes and nothing would stop them! Aiko couldn't help the rush of excitement either!

All Might evaluates the class, each one a rising hero with promise. Finally, his eyes landed on Midoriya, and his smile grew just a bit more, yeah, he chose one good successor!

"Hurry up, All Might." Aizawa pushes, moving to his desk and tapping away on his computer.

"Right right." The number one rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Anyways, I have your syllabus' right here for my class. I will read most of it out, the important stuff at least, and then I'll ask you a question I would like you all to answer. So, let begin shall we?"

All Might, with his theatrical voice, wasn't the best at reading out loud. He stuttered more than any other teacher, and Aiko couldn't get past the funny tone he always wore. Imagine an over exaggerated, comedy relief character trying to read something serious. It's more entertaining than anything.

"Finally, the question I want to ask all of you is, what do you think makes a good hero?"

Iida raised his hand first, his entire body leaning up to the roof. Momo was the same, her hand stretched high above her head and even higher against all the other classmates. Though, All Might seemed to be a bit nicer to the shyer students, his first choice was a kid in the back with white and red hair, and a scar across his right heterochromia eyes.

"Go on, introduce yourself first, then answer the question."

All eyes took in the student in the back, his body shriveled and his hand slowly dipping down to his side. His face portrayed a different story, instead of being reserved and shy, there was a hint of distaste as his brows furrowed together. "My name is Todoroki Shoto, and I believe what makes a good hero is someone who protects people. Someone who doesn't hurt others needlessly, and instead helps them when they need it."

Aiko glanced back at All Might, the cryptic message seemed to make the number one hero uncomfortable. Weird.

"Of course! A good hero always puts others before themselves, and makes sure the masses are safe against villain attacks!" He moved on to the next student, the infamously pissed blond who seemed to not care at all given his posture. "And what about you?"

"Bakugou Katsuki," he introduced, springing up from his chair when he began the second part. "What makes the best hero is being on top! Winning and taking down useless villains!"

All Might stuttered. "We-well of course winning against villains is important! But winning isn't exactly what makes a hero. It is important to think of victory as a means to save as many civilians as possible." The pro hero moved on to another student, then another one, and another one, until he landed on Aiko.

She didn't even realize her hand was up, too excited to even think correctly. Her bright features dulled down, what was she going to say?! Revenge? Helping people like herself? That'd defiantly get Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi in trouble... they would hate that.

"My name is Takahashi Aiko and I think what makes a good hero is... helping people who can't help themselves. Through anything, like helping the elderly cross the street or helping someone with their homework."

All Might smiled. "That's a perfect example of what makes a good hero! Being a hero isn't always about fighting villains or saving civilians, it is also about being a good role model for the people who look up to you."

His theatrics didn't end when the bell rang, and he dashed out of the class with a strength matched by only one. Aiko was beyond excited, beyond proud! Talking in front of a class is difficult and she did it without any hiccups.

Seeing All Might, being brave, and making friends counts as a win in her book.

Iida wondered into view, his glasses falling slightly down his nose with a pleased grin. "Can you believe it?! All Might will be teaching us heroics! It's the chance of a life time!"

"Yeah!" Aiko began. "I can't believe it either! He's my hero."

"Mine too, I've always looked up to All Might. He's the world's best hero, there's no competition!" Iida finished collecting his things and waited, two more people wondering over. One was Uraraka, the cute brown haired girl with flushing cheeks. The other one was the green haired kid with cute freckles, Izuku maybe? "This is Uraraka and Izuku, we were in the same entrance exam."

Aiko gave a gentle smile. "Hi, I'm Aiko. I met Iida at my locker, his is across mine." She shrugged and stuffed her sketchbook into her back. "You guys can go ahead and get a table, I wanted to stay after class a few minutes."

"Sure!" Uraraka smiled and threw up a few thumbs up. "We'll save you a seat!"

"Sounds good." Aiko grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She waved away the small ground and looked around the busy halls, where did All Might go? From the path of talking students, her probably went in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. Would it be okay to see him?

She bit her lip, this would probably be the only time she could talk to him privately, after all he's probably really busy already. It would just be better to get what she's itching to say out of the way. Silver eyes glanced at her homeroom teacher, he was sitting at his desk, shifting through some papers with a bored expression.

He looks too busy to be bothered, so the aspiring hero trotted off into the hallways with vigor in her step. Passing through the cluttered halls, Aiko rushed through the crowds of students and past class 1-B.

Until she stumbled to the side form bumping into someone. "Sorry! Sorry!" She yelped, catching herself and grabbing the shoulders of the figure she hit. "I wasn't watching where I was going!"

The blond ran his hand through his hair, his too gleeful grin plastered onto his now visible face. "This is class 1-A? Pathetic! Can't even watch their own feet!" He cackled through his disturbing grin and held his pained chest. "Seriously?!"

The pink haired girl stumbled back, once again almost tripping on her feet. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Sorry? You don't even know how to apologize? Useless, hahaha!" He continued to imitate a hyena as another figure showed up... and smacked him across the back of the head.

"That's no way to talk to a fellow student!" The new figure chided, using her hand to swipe away the red ponytail form her shoulder. "Sorry about him, he's always been like this since we started class. Don't know why." She shyly laughed to herself. "My name's Itsuka Kendo by the way, if he ever does this again, just call me."

"S-sure?" Aiko gave a scared smile. "Uh, thanks—oh! Do you know where All Might went?"

"All Might?" Her face flashed with excitement. "Yeah! We went to the teacher's lounge over in that direction." She pointed her thumb behind her. "Anyway, I should take him to the lunchroom, ya' know?"

"Right, uh, thanks by the way... Kendo. I appreciate it." She glanced to the side, movement catching her eye.

Komori stared into her soul form behind Kendo, a snark plastered onto his features. He scoffed and walked off with his clawed hands into his pockets.

Kendo didn't notice Komori and instead smiled at Aiko's discomfort. "We honestly think he's an escapee from Tartarus or something." She giggles at her joke to try and lift the mood.

It worked. The two exchanged a little laugh. "I'll see you around I guess."

"Defiantly! See you later-?"

"Aiko, you too." Both separated their own ways, and continued their missions.

The pink haired girl ran through the halls and stopped in front of sign high on the wall. Big, bold letters told her she finally made it to the teacher's lounge. God, was she really going to go through with this?

The door opened before she could bail, a small mouse with the most adorable suit she had ever seen walked out. He had the cutest smile on his face with beady, black eyes that shimmered with momentary surprise. "Hello there!" He began, waving around a tiny paw. "How May I help you?"

She knew who this cute mouse was, and it only made her more regretful of her decision, would he be angry at her? "I-I-umm, I just-I was meaning to-uh-ask Mr. Might a question. I-I can ask another time if he is busy."

All Might jumped at her voice, quickly scurrying away from the view of the door. He wasn't in his All Might form, and if a student already figured out his secret, god that would be difficult to deal with. Still, he listened in, wondering what she might have been wanting to ask. He should go out there right? A little more time wouldn't kill him, besides he needed to be a role model right?

Taking a deep breath he inflated, fixed his suit and leaned into the doors entrance. "Hello there-er-little miss."

Her eyes shined a bit brighter, and Nezu glanced behind him with a raised brow. Toshinori grew his smile to reassure the little mouse.

"Sorry to bother you sir, I was just wondering if I could ask a question about earlier?"

He thought for a moment and remembered which class she might have been from. Oh! Right, the one he was just in. "Of course! What did you want to ask?" He fixed his posture and leaned on the door, waiting for her to continue, but she didn't right away. Instead she glanced over at Nezu nervously and fiddled with her hands.

"I'll see you at the office room, All Might." Nezu said, shuffling away with another cute wave.

The teacher and student watched him walk off before looking at each other once more. "Um, I was thinking about what you said, about what makes a hero, but would it be wrong for someone to want... revenge?"

The question took him by surprise. Revenge? Such a fickle idea split between right and wrong, would it be bad to want revenge? He didn't think so, after all an ulterior motive of him being a hero was also once revenge. "You want to be a hero for revenge? Who are you after?"

She blushed, clearly embarrassed. "It's a bit of a long story, but six years or so ago you saved me from a villain attack. My family didn't make it, but if you weren't there I'm sure more people would have died! If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't be here, that's why I idolize you!"

"Six years ago? I'm sorry I don't remember much about villain attacks back then." He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. "It's been quite a while."

Aiko shuffled on her feet. "It was a major attack in one of the rich districts, it has been rebuilt since then."

All Might thought deeply about her words, it's normal for villains to attack wealthy districts or shopping centers, either to get hostages or to steal. Her words didn't really make it easy to remember.

Then he thought about what happened six years ago, the scar along his torso tingling form a long lost memory. With that in mind, he would just base her experience after what he remembers in that fight. He couldn't forget that fight. "I think I remember, there was a lot of collateral damage, I'm sorry for your loss."

She smiled a sad smile and avoided eye contact. "Don't worry, you saved my life... and it wasn't your fault. I just want to find that villain and put him to justice for what he did, is that wrong?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, a small head of sweat dropping down his high cheekbones. "Of course it isn't, revenge can be a bad thing, but I think you are justified in wanting to find this missing villain." He shook his head to clear his mind. "You seem like such a sweet, young girl. There is no doubt in my mind you can put that villain to justice and make your family proud."

He placed a large hand on her shoulder and crouched down. Shadowed blue eyes now stared into weary silver ones. "You will be an amazing hero one day, I can tell."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Might. Hearing that from my hero means more than you think." She glanced down at her hands, a loose nail catching her eyes, must have been from her fiddling. "Thank you, I was worried you'd think it was wrong."

"Everyone has their motives, some more selfish than others, wanting justice is on the selfless side of the spectrum." He stood up to his full height and flashed a smile. "And if it makes you feel any better, I find it admirable to want to justice."

Aiko blushed a deep crimson, did her hero seriously just call her admirable?! Is she dreaming?! No, she isn't, and the man in front of her wasn't just a made up fantasy. She was actually talking to the number one, her literal savior. "Th-Thank you! I promise to be the best hero I can be! I promise to put that man to justice and make you proud!"

With that she dashed off, her hands gripping her hair over her face to cover her blazing cheeks.

All Might chuckled, these students really seemed like a promising bunch huh?

#bnha #mha #aiko takahashi #fanfiction #mha oc #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #chapter three #komori suzuki #Bakugou #deku #all Might #Iida

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acepalindrome · 5 years

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So Critical Role is on hiatus this week, and they’ll be taking another break over Christmas and New Years. Are you bored and needing another tabletop show to scratch that itch? Yes, there’s TAZ too, but they’re biweekly so you’ll still have off weeks. And everybody knows about Critical Role and TAZ. Don’t you want to try some of the lesser known but still very very good roleplaying shows?

I hope the answer is yes, because I’m gonna rec some of my favorites! Please feel free to reblog and add your favorites too! There are so many very good D&D/tabletop podcasts/web shows that get overlooked and a Critical Role hiatus is a great time to shine some light on those gems! And without further ado:

Not Another D&D Podcast: the campaign after the campaign! NADDPOD is set in a world that has already been saved by a team of legendary heroes...except maybe the legendary heroes didn’t do such a great job saving the world as we thought and fucked up quite a lot and left mountains of problems to be solved in their wake! NADDPOD has a great story and drama and heartbreak, but mostly it’s wildly hilarious. The Band of Boobs consists of Hardwon Surefoot (a human fighter raised by dwarves who left home for adventure and is used to be being a big fish in a small pond,) Beverly Toegold V (halfling paladin boyscout and Very Good Boy who’s trying to earn his merit badges) and Moonshine Cybin (wood elf druid, hillbilly and chaotic bi who flirts with every woman she meets. She has a possum companion named Pawpaw. I love Moonshine.)

Dungeons & Daddies (Not A BDSM Podcast): Four dads from our world gets transported into the Forgetten Realms on a quest to rescue their sons! This podcast is extremely goofy and if you thought the McElroys played Calvinball, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Dad jokes cause psychic damage, and there are a LOT of dad jokes. It’s 90% hilarious shenanigans and then 10% feelings (I cried about a character called Lizardboy Scales McStuffins.) The dads are Darryl Wilson (barbarian and stay at home coach dad, big softy on the inside,) Henry Oak(druid and mega crunchy hippie dad,) Glenn Close (bard and rock’n roll pot-smoking dad,) and Ron Stampler (rogue, emotionally detached stepfather and honestly probably a cryptid. What the fuck is Ron? We just don’t know.)

Dimension 20: Escape from the Bloodkeep: this is a fairly short webshow, just 6 episodes long, and I admit that I only checked it out because Matt Mercer and Erika Ishii were on it, but I absolutely loved it! Escape from the Bloodkeep follows the subordinates of the Lord of Shadows right before the great final battle of good vs evil that they were totally going to win...except a couple halflings threw some magic jewelry in a volcano and fucked everything up. It’s wildly funny as a LOTR parody but the evil villains end up becoming a found family at the end, because of course they do. The vile villains include Efink Murderdeath (elven grave cleric who turned evil to rebel against her dad,) Sokhbarr the Boglord (half orc ranger and basically the Steve Irwin of monsters,) Kraz-Thun AKA Leiland (anxious insecure Ringwraith warlock,) Lilith (queen of the spiders and wine mom to thousands of tiny spider kids,) Maggie (tiefling barbarian and daughter to the Lord of Evil) and Marcus St Vincent (human pirate who sided with evil to get rich.) Dimension 20 has some other shows like Fantasy High and The Unsleeping City that I’ve heard good things about, but I haven’t gotten around to watching them yet!

Rusty Quill Gaming: I’ve only just started this one but I love it already! It’s set in an alternate 19th century London that has magic and all the usual fantasy trappings, but also Lord Byron is there? It’s a lot of fun so far but I’ve been told that there’s a lot of pain coming and I’m very scared. The squad (at least where I’m at) includes: Sasha (socially awkward human rogue,) Hamid (halfling sorcerer and Fancy Lad,) Zolf (dwarf cleric, has a peg leg and possibly the owner of the team’s only brain cell) and Bertie (human fighter and loud, flashy buffoon.)

And it’s not a tabletop/roleplay podcast but I only got into Rusty Quill Gaming because of one of Rusty Quill’s other podcasts, The Magnus Archives, which I can’t recommend highly enough. It’s a horror series that follows the new head archivist at the Magnus Institute, which is an organization that documents all manner of supernatural and spooky shit. What happened to the last head archivist? It’s a ~mystery~. At first it seems like a bunch of stand alone stories but soon you start to realize that there are all these threads connecting everything and I can’t really say much more because a big part of the fun is seeing how the overarching story comes together. Also lots of LGBT+ characters. The main character is canon ace. Please listen to The Magnus Archives.

Hope you’ll give some of these a try, and again, feel free to add your own! Give some other shows some love!

#critical role #the adventure zone #naddpod #dungeons and daddies #rusty quill gaming #escape from the bloodkeep #the magnus archives

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duhragonball · 3 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (156/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[1 December Age 893, Earth.]

Throughout the night, Trunks had been exploring the simulated universe in the popular arcade game Super Dragon Ball Heroes. To the Earthlings of the 9th Century, it was just a video game about famous warriors and battles from history, but it was in fact a secret project backed by the Time Patrol. The game world in SDBH was a scale model of the actual universe, based upon the Scroll of Eternity itself. This provided a unique gaming experience for the unsuspecting civilians, but it also allowed Time Patrollers like Trunks to conduct research and interact with historical events without altering history. His main objective to was to learn more about his new partner, Luffa. So far, he had spoken to several Saiyans across time and space, and each answer he found seemed to raise a new question.

At the Hero Lab, where the SDBH game was programmed and maintained, Trunks pondered these questions over takeout food. Dr. Leggings had cleared off her desk for the plates and napkins. Her assistant, a girl named Anne, was fussing over the bags of food, determined to make sure everyone’s order was accounted for and properly distributed. No one asked her to do this, but she was the type who couldn’t relax otherwise. She still complained about it, but Trunks knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nearby, Beat and Note had rolled their own chairs to face one another, and they each propped their feet up on the edge of the other's seat. He had recruited them for help on a case when they were younger, and it was strange to see them as teenagers. He wondered if there was something more than friendship developing between them, or if they themselves were aware of it, but it seemed undignified to ask, so he let it go. There were more important things to consider anyway.

"The main job's been accomplished, at least," Trunks said after he swallowed a bite of eggroll. "I know where Camelia's key planets are located, and our historians can probably fill in a more complete map of the galaxy from that era. Then we can work with Luffa to figure out the correct date and location she came from."

"You don't sound very satisfied with that, Master," Note said as she fished out a piece of shrimp from her takeout box and fed it to Beat.

"I'm not," Trunks said. "We thought Luffa might be from a distant civilization, but one in the present day. Now, it's starting to look like she's from our galaxy, but eleven centuries in the past. Maybe twelve. The Rehval that I spoke with was the third Saiyan King with that name. The one Luffa mentioned may have been his father or grandfather."

"Why is that bad, Trunks?" Beat asked. He found a piece of pork in his box and passed it from his chopsticks to Note's chopsticks. "I mean, so what if she’s from twelve centuries in the past? You guys are the Time Patrol, after all. If anyone can send her home, you can."

"It's not that we can't send her back," Beat, " Trunks said. "The problem is that I'm not so sure we should. From the start, I just assumed Luffa was from the present time, or close to it. Without realizing it, I've shown Luffa things that will happen in her distant future. To us, it's the past, but if we send her back with that knowledge, she could change the course of history."

"Would she?" Note asked. "I mean, I'm sure she's an honorable person, or Shenron wouldn't have chosen her as your ally, Master. And now that she's seen the dangers involved with time anomalies, I'm sure she'd never tell anyone what she learned about our era."

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid," said Dr. Leggings. She was chewing on a bone from her order of spare ribs, and Trunks couldn't help but appreciate a very faint resemblance she had to his father. Leggings looked a lot more like his mother, particularly with the way she wore her green hair in a ponytail. She was no warrior, but there were definite hints of Saiyan to her. He liked this. In his own timeline, Trunks was an only child, and the last of his father's people. It was comforting to spend time in places like Hero Town and Toki Toki City, where he had an extended family of sorts, no matter how distant.

"What do you mean, doctor?" Note asked.

"We've seen how even minor changes in the past can cause major changes in the present," Leggings said. "The game world makes it easy to see, because we can jump from one time period to another very quickly, and we can reset those changes as easily as refreshing a computer. It's not just a matter of winning a battle you were supposed to lose, or telling secrets that you aren't supposed to know about. Luffa might change history without even realizing she's done it."

"She's right," Trunks said. "When I first went back to the past, I tried to be careful not to make any unwanted changes. I only wanted to warn Goku about the Cyborgs and give him the medicine for the heart virus. But somehow he got sick about six months later than I expected. I still have no idea why that happened. My guess is that he was training for the Cyborgs, so he must have been in a different place than he was in my timeline, so he wasn't infected under the same circumstances."

"You think Luffa might do something differently, now that she knows what's going to happen to the Saiyans?" Beat asked.

"She might," Trunks said. "Luffa hates King Rehval, and now that I've met the guy, I can't say I blame her. If I understand correctly, there's a direct throughline connecting Rehval's policies with the class system used by my grandfather on Planet Vegeta. So she might blame Rehval for the downfall of the Saiyan race, and try to take revenge. For that matter, she knows about the Dragon Balls on Namek. She might be tempted to use them in the past, to try to make wishes to prevent some of the terrible things she's seen in the future."

"That'd be good, wouldn't it?" Beat asked.

"Not for you, it wouldn't," Note said in a scolding tone. "Son Goku is your ancestor, isn't he? If the history of the Saiyans changes too much, then they might never send Goku to Earth, and you would never be born."

"Oh, right," Beat said. "Maybe Luffa should stay in Toki Toki City, then."

"And that could have consequences too," Trunks said. "Luffa might still play a role in history, however small. Shenron may have only brought her to us because he knew the Time Patrol would eventually put her back. But there's also the matter of her power level..."

"Power?" Anne asked. She had already finished her meal and was busily cleaning up the discarded cartons and wrappers. "Don't tell me that's a problem on top of everything else!"

"Yup, I'm afraid so, Anne," Trunks said. "Luffa's done well on her missions, but she's nowhere near as powerful as what I had expected. Now that I know what time period she's from, that makes more sense. King Rehval told me he was the strongest Saiyan of his era, and he's a lot stronger than Luffa, but he wouldn't stand a chance against the kinds of enemies I've had to fight. Luffa defeated the Ginyu Force, and Rehval might have handled them more easily but that's about all I could expect from either of them."

"That's nothing you can't fix, Master!" Note said. "I'm sure you can train Luffa just as well as you trained us!"

"I appreciate your confidence, Note," Trunks said, "but Luffa's not exactly what I'd call 'teachable'. Besides, she seems to have improved dramatically on her own. Even she doesn't understand how she's doing it, but she may catch up before too long. But if she returns to her own time with all that extra strength, then that could mess up history too. And if she has to remain with us, then I'm not sure she'll be any good on future missions."

"Why not?" Beat asked. "She's sure to get stronger."

"I thought so too, but maybe I've been taking that for granted," Trunks said. "I'm used to dealing with Saiyans descended from Son Goku, or from my own family. Goku and Vegeta were extraordinary fighters, even among Saiyans, but Luffa could be... Well, there's no gentle way to put this. She might not have the same potential."

"You're not going to just fire her, are you?" Note asked.

"Of course not," Trunks said. "If we can't send her home, I'm sure we can find a place for her in the Time Patrol. But we can't risk sending her on certain missions. Towa and Mira are dangerous, and if I'm right, their raids on history's warriors are only going to get bolder. Luffa could find herself in deep waters with no one to help her. Shenron may have granted my wish, and maybe she is the best person for the job, but that doesn't mean I can gamble with her life. I need more information before she goes back into the field."

"I'm sure whatever happens, it'll all work out, Trunks," Beat said.

"You always say stuff like that," Note groaned.

"Well, I'm right, aren't I?" Beat shrugged. "Well, most of the time, anyway."

"This has been fun, but I should probably get moving," Trunks said. "I need to report my findings to the Time Patrol, and maybe the Supreme Kai of Time has a fresh lead on Towa."

"You have to leave already?" Beat asked. "But it feels like you just got here!"

"Yeah, it was beginning to feel like the old days," Note said.

"I've missed you guys too," Trunks said. He stood up and brushed loose grains of rice from his pants. "You've grown up a lot while I've been away. You too, Anne."

"I guess it's kind of childish how I keep calling you, 'Master'," Note said. "Force of habit, I suppose."

"You're welcome to call me 'Trunks' if you want, Note. But to be honest, it reminds me of when I was a kid. I used to call Gohan 'Master', back when he trained me to fight the Cyborgs. He meant a lot to me. Hearing you say it... It's a good feeling."

"I'll keep the Hero Switches ready in case you come back," Leggings said. "You'll probably need to do some follow-up work to pin down an exact time for Luffa."

"Good call," Trunks said as he slung his sword over his shoulder. "I'll probably have to bring her with me. I'll see if I can get her to make some more of that lasagna she made for us the other day."

"Lasagna?" Beat asked. But Trunks vanished before he could get an answer.

*******

[4 March, Age 850. Toki Toki City.]

Luffa felt ridiculous doing this, but she had no other ideas for how to handle the situation. She knew the way from her apartment to the Time Nest, and the Time Vault was unlocked and unguarded, but she had no idea what to do on her own. Trunks had always contacted her whenever she was needed, and he always had the Scroll ready to send her on her next mission. Without him, it seemed that the Time Vault was a useless building with a tree sticking out of the roof. And so, her only way forward was the Supreme Kai of Time, who lived in a modest capsule house in the Time Nest, next door to the Time Vault. Luffa felt awkward simply entering the house, and so she went back to her apartment and baked a cake. That wouldn't make things less awkward for her, but at least there would be something to eat during her visit.

"Luffa, Hi!" Chronoa said as she answered the knock on her door. "Ooh, what's that? It smells good."

"Uh, I got in a mood, so I made some cake," Luffa said, in a failed attempt to sound nonchalant. "And I thought I should check and see if you and Trunks had any update on the search."

"Afraid not," Chronoa said. "But perfect timing on the cake. I just put on a pot of tea. Come on in!"

The interior of Chronoa's house was littered with technological gizmos. There were entire jet engines laying around the Time Nest, and it seemed that this was because those larger objects were the only ones that wouldn't fit inside. Chronoa tossed several of them off one of the couch cushions and gestured for Luffa to take a seat.

"I'm glad you finally came over," Chronoa said. "I was worried that you might be having trouble fitting in with the Time Patrol."

"It's uh... it's not so bad," Luffa said. "My roommate is kind of weird, but we get along well enough. I've met a few people here."

"They're all a very special bunch of people," Chronoa said. "I haven't been able to get to know them all as well as I'd like to, but they've helped me out a lot. That goes for you too, Luffa."

"Listen, uh... I think I owe you an apology," Luffa said. "I was in a pretty bad place right before I ended up here, and... well, I might have taken out some of my frustrations on you and your staff."

"You've had to adjust to a lot of changes very quickly, Luffa," Chronoa said. "And we didn't exactly give you a choice about coming here. You're entitled to get frustrated with us."

"Thanks, but... I'm a mercenary," Luffa said. "Well, I used to be. My parents always taught me how important it was to maintain a professional discipline around the clients. I don't think I've lived up to my own standards."

"I don't think of the other Time Patrollers as mercenaries, Luffa," Chronoa said. "We're a team, and we're friends. At least, I'd like to think of you as a friend."

"Yeah, I guess so," Luffa said. "I... Can I ask you something?"

"Sure!"

"You're a god, aren't you? A god of time."

"That's right."

"Don't you already know how all of this turns out?"

Chronoa chuckled as she sipped her tea.

"Did I say something wrong?" Luffa asked.

"No, I get that a lot, actually," Chronoa said. "The short answer is: no, I don't know the future. Not in the way you're thinking of. I watch over time, and maintain the flow of time. When it's necessary, I correct problems in that flow. But I don't make time, or control it."

"It's just... I'm kind of anxious to get back on the trail of those demons," Luffa said. "And we've been waiting for them to make their next move, and it occurred to me that it doesn't make much sense that we have to wait. You could jump ahead to the moment when they've already made their play."

"Well, now that's something I could do," Chronoa said. I can travel to the future and find out when the next mission happens. I could even take you with me so you wouldn't have to wait."

"You can?" Luffa said.

"Oh yeah!" Chronoa said. "I can do a lot of things. But I shouldn't do it, so I won't."

"Oh."

"It's not an arbitrary rule, either," Chronoa said. "Most Supreme Kais are only permitted to travel forward through time, and only to observe future events. They can't interfere, so they have to limit their use of that power. With me, the problem is that if I skip around too much, I run the risk of upsetting the balance of my own timeline. Things have to proceed in order. That's what time is all about."

"I guess that makes sense," Luffa said. "Honestly, I had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy, or you would have already done it. But I had to ask."

"You’re right, it’s not that easy. In fact, it's part of the reason I established the Time Patrol," Chronoa said. "For millions of years, keeping watch over the flow of time was pretty simple. I just had to keep Tokitoki fed and watered, give him plenty of enrichment. But as the universe grows older, it becomes more complex. Once, there was no Supreme Kai of Time. We didn't even need one. But then we did, and now we've reached a point where I need a whole staff to help maintain things. If I could just jump back and forth in time any way I wanted, maybe I could do the whole thing alone. But it’s more satisfying this way, with all of you.”

"Why mortals? Why not get other Kais to do this work?" Luffa asked.

"Because there aren't enough of us, for one thing," Chronoa said. "We come from a place called the 'World Core'. There aren't many Core People, and few of us ever achieve the rank of Kai. Fewer still ascend to the status of Grand Kai, and even fewer make it to Supreme Kai. There used to be seven Supreme Kais in this universe, including me. These days, there's only three."

"Is three enough?" Luffa asked.

"For now, it'll have to be," Chronoa said. "Besides, I've found that mortals are very dedicated and resourceful. To say nothing of all the technology they produce..."

She reached for an end table and picked up a machine that looked vaguely like a can opener combined with an alarm clock. Luffa expected her to use the device, but instead Chronoa simply admired its surfaces.

"So what's all this stuff for, anyway?" Luffa asked, gesturing to the assortment of similar gadgets that lay in every direction.

"Nothing in particular," Chronoa said. "I just find their designs fascinating. The electronics, the cogwheels, the little blinking lights. It's helpful for contemplating the nature of time."

"If you say so," Luffa said.

"Without time, everything would happen all at once," Chronoa explained. "Birth, death, creation, destruction, none of that would mean anything without the passage of time to separate those moments. The oven you used to bake this cake. Without time, there would be no need for it. Cooking would be meaningless. You can't preheat an oven or leave a cake inside for seven hours, not when there's no hours."

"S-seven hours?" Luffa asked, but Chronoa paid no mind.

"Mixing the ingredients would be pointless, too. Even the pan you put it in, it would be unnecessary, because there could be no cause or effect. There could be no hunger, because there would be no time for you to become hungry."

"That's why you like these tools, then?" Luffa asked. "Their functions remind you of the flow of time?"

"Yes, that's one way of looking at it," Chronoa said. She picked up another object that had a handle connected to a transparent dome on wheels. Inside the dome were several colorful plastic balls, which bounced around inside as Chronoa pushed it along the floor.

"What does that thing do?" Luffa asked.

"Oh, this is just a child's toy," Chronoa said. "Same idea though."

"Okay..." Luffa decided this was as good a time as any to serve the cake. It was yellow with chocolate frosting, a recipe which suited her aesthetics, though she had no idea what flavor “yellow” was supposed to be. She wondered if “yellow” was a kind of fruit, like the oranges used to make the juice she had discovered while shopping.

"Very impressive," Chronoa said as she took a bite. "You must have turned the oven up to full power for this."

"Uh, not exactly," Luffa said nervously. She was beginning to get the impression that Chronoa had no idea how cooking worked. "Jayncho found a recipe, and they had everything I needed in the Industrial District. I've been using my downtime to get a handle on Earth cuisine."

"That's great! You know... when we figure out how to get you home, Luffa, you wouldn't have to stay there. You could come back for missions."

"Huh?"

"We have a lot of Patrollers who still live on Earth, in their own native eras. Mostly ranging from Age 850 to 1050, but there are a few exceptions, like Trunks."

"Well, that's nice and all," Luffa said, "but I don't know that it would work for me..."

"Do you have any family?"

Luffa hesitated before answering. "No," she said. "It's just me." To explain further would require her to reveal that she knew she was from the distant past, and she wasn't ready to divulge that just yet. She wasn't sure she ever would be. But somehow, sitting in Chronoa's home, sharing snacks with her while they watched the view outside her window, Luffa felt like she could trust her.

She just wouldn't trust her today. Not yet. Like Chronoa had said, these things had to happen in the proper order.

"Have you heard of ‘Providence,’ Chronoa?" Luffa asked.

"I know the term, if that's what you mean." she said with her mouth full.

"My... a friend of mine, she believed in a divine plan. I just wondered if you, or one of the other Kais, had any connection to that."

"Are you religious yourself, Luffa?"

"Not really. But I've known people who were. You wouldn't know a god with nine eyes, by any chance, would you?"

"No, I can't say that I do," Chronoa said.

"What about Beerus?"

"Oh, well that's different," Chronoa said. "You see-- Wait, what was that?"

She put her plate on the coffee table and stood up, as though looking for something beyond the walls of her house.

"What is it?" Luffa asked. Her own senses picked up nothing out of the ordinary.

"Something's wrong," Chronoa said. "We need to go to the Time Vault."

"Is it Towa and Mira?" Luffa asked.

"I'm not sure," Chronoa said, “but I think it could be."

Luffa punched her right hand with her left as she stood up from the sofa. At last, it seemed like her waiting was over.

*******

[24 December, Age 762. Planet Namek.]

The Namekian Dragon Balls were ordinary stones. Two wishes had been granted, but they petrified upon the death of their creator, Guru. When Frieza arrived to discover this predicament, he was furious. So furious, that he wasted no time in destroying the objects of his wrath. Within minutes, Krillin, Vegeta, and the Namekian child, Dende, were all dead. Piccolo, newly resurrected by the Dragon Balls, joined the battle, but far too later to do any good. Gohan was next, and then the only one left was Goku.

"Who... are you?" Frieza asked, as Goku cradled his dead son in his arms. "Never mind. I don't need to know."

Goku followed the others soon after.

*******

[4 March, Age 850. Toki Toki City.]

"It has to be Towa," Chronoa said. She had the Scroll of Eternity unfurled on the great octagonal table in the Time Vault. Luffa watched over her shoulder, while Tokitoki flapped his wings and hooted overhead.

"This looks like the same day as the Ginyu Force battle I was just in," Luffa said.

"It is," Chronoa said. "This new temporal change takes place thirty-seven minutes after you left. Towa must have decided it was the last place we would expect her to strike. I didn't think she was prepared to try her energy stealing techniques on someone as powerful as Frieza."

Luffa had never actually seen Frieza before. Until now, she had only heard about him. During her previous mission, the Ginyu Force and Vegeta had spoken of him as being present on Namek, but occupied elsewhere. Before that, she had heard about Frieza's conquest and destruction of the Saiyan homeworld from the Toki Toki City historian, Dewar. Dewar had said that Frieza was a clansman of his own species, and now that Luffa could see Frieza in the mystical images generated by the Scroll, she could see the resemblance. Mostly, Frieza had purple colorations wherever Dewar had blue, and Frieza didn't bother wearing clothes. He was a white-skinned, muscular humanoid with no hair and three-toed feet. A long, thick tail waved behind him. The purple aura from Towa's magic seemed to suit his cruel, indifferent expression.

"Looks like it's the same story as before," Luffa said. "Frieza got a power boost and he overwhelmed these guys too quickly, so I'll have to step in and balance the scales."

"It's not that simple," Chronoa warned. "Frieza is far more powerful than anyone you've faced so far."

"He can't swap bodies like Captain Ginyu, can he?" Luffa asked.

"No, but--"

"Well then, this should be a lot more straightforward," Luffa said, She held up her hands and began cracking her knuckles.

"Wait," Chronoa said. "Luffa, I really think we should hold off on this until Trunks gets back."

"What for?" Luffa asked. "I'm the one who has to go on these missions, and I'm ready right now. With any luck, those miserable demons will still be there, and I can pick up where I left off."

"You don't know what you're dealing with, Luffa," Chronoa warned. "Every time you've come back from these missions, you've been badly hurt. Fighting Frieza is one thing. If he hurts you, you can be automatically recalled to the Time Nest before you die. But if Towa decides to step in, that might not work. She's already threatened you, and there's a lot we don't know about her temporal manipulation abilities."

"Then it's time we found out," Luffa insisted. "I don't know what kind of Saiyans you have working for you in the Time Patrol, but I'm the kind that doesn't back down from a challenge. I think your pet Dragon noticed that, and maybe that's why he brought me here to help you out."

"There's more at stake here than whatever chip you have on your shoulder, Luffa," Chronoa said. "I can tell you're out to prove something. I don't know what, but I won't risk your life like this."

"And what happens if they try to alter history somewhere else while we're waiting around?" Luffa asked. "We need to address this sooner rather than later. And no matter what we do, it's going to be me who ends up going. You know I'm right, Supreme Kai of Time. I wouldn't be here if I weren't."

Chronoa regarded her for a moment, then looked back at the Scroll. "All right, we'll try it your way," she said. "But I'll be watching, and at the first sign of trouble, I'm pulling you out of there."

"Thanks," Luffa said. "I was thinking about making a grab for the Scroll, but I didn’t want to upset you. I've never fought a god before, and I didn't want to make things awkward between us.”

"Uh... sure. Well, promise me that you’ll keep that in mind if I have to bring you back from the mission early," Chronoa said. "If you can't handle Frieza, then you definitely don't need to be picking fights with me."

Luffa smiled as she picked up the Scroll, and then she was gone.

NEXT: 「F」

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #luffa #trunks #chronoa #note #beat #anne #dr leggings #toki toki city #earth #namek

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Nightmare Time Episode 1 Review: The Hatchetfield Ape-Man/Watcher World

I take a look at the first episode of Starkid’s new show Nightmare Time! Starkid, returns for a zoomcast, bringing back the casts of both Hatchefield plays for an anthology series of science fiction double feature picture shows! This week’s tales of terror:

The Hatchefield Ape-Man: A british heiress gets romanced by a shaved bigfoot with the help of everyone’s favorite kooky college professor. Forgotten fiances, murder and described nudity naturally insue.

Watcher World: Bill and Alice return as Bill drags his daughter to a kitschy theme park for a day of family fun, which Alice enjoys and is as respectful about as much as you’d expect. As you’d also expect given Bill’s general luck, things take a turn for the Shining real quick. Spoilers and full review under the cut.

Well this was a nice suprise. With the ongoing pandemic I genuinely did not think Starkid would be back anytime soon. Having just gotten back into them this years after several years of forgetting they existed via the Hatchetfield plays, I was pretty bummed, if understanding. So last week’s announcment of not only this series but a full scripted series from their sister production company the tin bros was a HUGE shot of happy I needed in this troubling times. Still need to watch spies are forver love the soundtrack nto important.

Point is the Lang Brothers and their merry band of actors found a way to continue on via format I didn’t realize existed outside of table reads but is a nice way to do things: The Zoomcast, basically a podcast done live on zoom, with the actors in plainclothes for the most part, with one person, in this case Nick Lang, reading out descriptions of what’s going on. Being a starkid production this also has musical director Matt Bohm playing accompaniment and pretaped if still via the actor’s own camera musical numbers. Overall while i’ts an understandably cheap production, only what costumes the actors have on hand and most props mimed, it WORKS, allowing for way more elaborate set pieces than the stage would allow and is anchored by Lang’s impeccable descriptions and the cast’s amazing as always acting really making the stories pop. So things worked on a technical level despite having the barest of bones to work with. But did it work on a story level? Well yes, but if I ended my reviews with just that i’d have less than the 3 or 4 fans I do have, so without further ado, it’s nightmare time! The Intro:

Now normally in my reviews I don’t talk about the intro because I come in mid way or because I just didn’t think to. This is an exception since

A) I should be doing that anyway or at least when I cover a show’s first episode since intro’s are sometimes one of the most memorable parts of a show

B) It’s a full musical number that’s been stuck in my head since the trailer for this series and has now set up an apartment there. C) This series is a musical, if not to the same degree as the two plays before it, so it’d be weird NOT to talk about it’s signature song.

So with that out of the way the intro.. is fucking impressive. Seriously taking disparate videos with probably as much as the directions “Sing this part of the song and be kind of creepy or alluring or whatever” and making it really flow? Good work, both to the starkids for bringing their a game to it as always and to Nick and Matt really did a good job editing this together, musically and visually to be an abolute jawdrop. And somehow finding utterly stunning stock image animations that none of us realized were stock footage but still fit the tone perfectly. Just great stuff. Some stray notes: Mariah is absolutely stunning in both voice and apperance in this, John Matheson’s bit as paul was great, and Jeff Blim of course got a great bit with his always astounding hair blowing in the breeze with him at full high pitch. Just an utterly great intro, and for Starkid’s first series in over a decade, and really ever but semantics, they really brought it. Good stuff. Onto the actual episode content.

The Hatchetfield Ape-Man: Lucy, a british heiress played by Angela Giarratana, was saved by the legendary “Hatchefield Ape-Man”.. who apparently has a hyphen like spider-men because while sasquatches can do that. Point is she’s come back every year in the hopes of reuniting with her savior but has so far failed. But as Lucy prepares to leave from this year’s failed expedition, an old friend finally gives her what she needs... old friend to us to her she’s just some grey haired lunatic who showed up out of the mist. Which while accurate, dosen’t quite quantify everyone’s favorite playwright/college professor/murderous psychopath/composer.

Yes at long last Professor Hidgens has returned! I honestly didn’t expect the anthology to bring in such a huge fan faviorite so soon. I mean I expected returning characters, mostly because the project allows old faviorites to come back for their own stories or for the stars of the musicals to get a chance at a much happier ending... there’s a lot of potetial there. That and let’s face it “Jane’s a Car” is a pretty dead giveaway it’s going to be about Tom’s dead wife and Tim’s dead mother coming back in horrible mash up of christine and my mother the car. Maybe. I could be wrong. I also doubt many of you know what my mother the car is and to that I say it’s an old sitcom i’m honestly suprised I know exists and know nothing about other than the title and it being about a son’s mom’s ghost possesing his car apparently. Well that and it was the basis for this.

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Point is, while I expected some returns, I wasn’t expecting one this large and this bombastic so soon, but BOY was it welcome. So getting back on track after all that, HIdgens seemingly takes Lucy to meet her ape man, who goes by the name Klonk, played by everyone’s faviorite sexy caveman Joey Richter. Also it’s adorable he and Lauren share a streaming screen. I know practicality and all that but their engagment is genuinely a sweet thing to hear about at a time when the world’s going down the toilet fast. Fun Fact: I pegged the Ape-Man was either going to be Jeff or Joey, leaning towards Jeff, though given my love of Joey I wasn’t disapointed with him, especially with the twist... but I was EXASTIC to learn the answer was basically “Both.. kinda?”. But yeah Lucy soon bonds with the ape man, with HIdgens encouraging her since it’s more than he’s gotten out of Klonk in 11 months of looking after the guy, and this way they can get him to learn enough to decide what he wants for himself.

So a few months, and some romantic bonding between woman and ape-man, pass but a wrench is thrown into Klonk’s wooing and attempt to tell lucy he loves her: Jonathan, Lucy’s just now mentioned fiance and royal dickhead played by Kurt Mega. And credit where it’s do whlie he clearly didn’t have to dress up, he did have a nice 50′s monster movie british person suit he put on. Lucy is now conlficted and what not even though Jonathan is kind of an asshole who just wants to drag her back home. And i’ts not like Lucy didn’t keep in touch: she sent him texts and probably called, so i’ts not like he didn’t know she was here. He’s also a hunter for extra dick points as if he needed them. Naturally when meeting his romantic rival he’s a dick.. but raises some valid questions: While Hidgens claim he shaved Konk due to lesions, there’s no mark of lesisons or the shaving. But his natural dickheadedness shines through and Jonathan talks about shooting Klonk before lucy takes his ring off and throws it and Jonathan goes after her. Annnnd yeah turns out the disposable dickhead fiance for once is RIGHT. In a twist I did not remotley see coming but damn if it wasn’t clever, Klonk.. is Ted from TGWDLM and the plan was to seduce lucy with this con, marry her and then bump her off. It’s a hell of a twist and cleverly hidden since Joey’s such a starkid mainstay, it’s not a huge suprise he was Klonk and thus easily hid the fact he was also Ted. It’s clever stuff and pivots the story nicely.

Ted is naturally a douchey as ever, going along with Hidgen’s plan to have him marry lucy then kill her and take her dough for themselves.. and unsuprisingly, so Hidgens can get Workin Boys off the ground. Granted there are easier ways to do this with the same scooby doo scheme: Just have HIdgens plan working boys casually, have Klonk really love it and being the sweetheart she is LUcy would fiance the thing just to make them both happy. I mean he can still marry her and ted can still have direct acess to her money if they want, it’s just an easier way that dosen’t shine supscion on the caveman who looks exactly like a local douchebag who everyone he’s met would testify against him. I mean would Paul and Bill REALLY be that suprised that Ted did this?

Exactly. Then again neither of our “heroes’ Here is very bright, and this scheme only works because Lucy is clearly very sweet, very naive, and very much wants a romantic evening with an ape man after all this time and effort searching, so she wants to believe him. So the fact the best they could come up with is something out of Scooby Doo is unsuprisng but still great. However things take a turn for the

Pretty quick as Hidgens takes disposable british douche fiance hunting.. then kills the guy after freely admiting he’s a fraud in what’s an INCREDIBLY chilling scene. Seriously it’s amazing how Robert takes a character as loveably redicilous, even his evil and murderous plan during TGWDLM was still hilariously rediclous, and makes him UTTERLY TERRIFYING. Even when dropping my fair lady refrences. Amazing stuff. So the next day, after Konk “asks” what an engagment is and what not, we then get Lucy wondering just WHERE jonathan is and we get the second biggest laugh of the night as Hidgens gives us the iconic line of “Oh he left... said something about you being crazy and going back to london and basically to go fuck yourself. “. Naturally Lucy has followup questions and goes to find out while Ted, also naturally, isn’t exactly pleased when he finds out his partner in crime did a murder on someone.

Ted may be a sleazy dickhead.. but even he sees maybe murdering a rich british person who just came here, went basically ONLY to this one location, and whose probably got many people who will misss him, one of whom is their primary target, is kinda dumb. Then again this is a plan that hinges on someone who could easily be identified, as he has or at least probably had an office job and three coworkers who know him, assuming a false identity to marry someone for their money. But again we’re dealing with a guy who thinks working boys is marketable to anyone who isn’t a starkid, and a moron who soon says he does his best thinking while erect. They only got this far because their target REALLY wants to fuck a sasquatch, is sweet but naive and well Ted IS still joey richter, and no longer has the porn stache so there you go. Ted decides to cut Hidgens out of things.. partly because you know, he killed a person, and partly because instead of killing Lucy, Ted realized he honeslty has a LOT to gain by simply marrying her and staying married. He gains a hot rich wife (his word’s not mine, but angie is genuinely beautiful so fair point), a mansion, and while Hidgens points out the obvious, he has to stay Konk.. that’s actually appealing to Ted as he feels better as Konk, not just because he impresses an attractive woman for doing basic stuff, but because he feels better as Konk. This is.. an intresting turn for Ted i genuinely like. It shows that Ted may, as much as he presents with bluster and ego, actually LIKE the kind of shithead he knows he is. I mean looking at his life he has two workmates who calling them friends is a bit of a stretch, and one who he’s having an affair with but seems detemrined to make her doomed marriage to an even bigger asshole work. He really dosen’t have much as ted so it’s easy to see why being Konk is better: He’s a better person as him who actually has someone who cares about him. Naturally Hidgens takes this as well as you’d expect and when Ted/Konk tries proposing he goes with the logical option for taking the fourtune for himself:

Yes really. Hidgens strips naked, and swings his arms around like an orangutan to try and convince Lucy he’s the real hatchetfield apeman. Sadly this dosen’t mean we get a shirtless robert manion as he needs to keep the turtleneck on for later, but the mental image.. I had to pause the video for a good minute to laugh over it. Just everything about it from it somehow being a dumber plan than his scheme this episode, to the orangutan swaying to just.. everything. It’s fucking genius. But Higdens has more than a mighty penis to compete with Ted.. he reveals ted’s phone and Ted ends up revealing himsef by telling Hidgens to go fuck himself. Naturally Lucy is distraught and tries to leave and the professor pulls out his shotgun to threaten her into financing his musical because of course it’s about workin boys. Lucy tries to run, Hidgens tries to shoot.. and ted , doing the first good thing in his entire life, takes the bullet. Lucy gets ted out of there then locks the door behind them, and we get the SCARIEST bit in this segment as Hidgens leans into the camera, simulating the peep hole of the vault door to the ape man inclosure and begs her to let him out. It’s some real Jack Nicholson in the Shining stuff and it’s utterly terrifying, but it’s also an amazing bit of acting. Nice job Rob. So ted bleeds out, as much as Lucy wants to save him he knows he’s not going to make it and prefers to die as Konk, finally happy with himself. And I just realized everyone at Paul’s job is horribly miserable. I mean good god, Paul himself has serious depression issues judging by “Let it Out”, Ted clearly hates himself, Charlotte is in a horrible marriage and Bill just got out of one and has a strained realtionship with his daughter we’ll get into more in a bit. I mean honestly, Mr. Davidson is the only one of them who really dosen’t need therapy.. he just needs to tell his wife he wants her to choke him while he jerks off. For as ungodly hilarious as that line is he’s probably the most well adjusted person there. Go figure.

Naturally being already insane, Hidgens breaks out, still naked mind, and chases after Lucy. Also noticable is apparently some people thought hidgens was manipulated by the blue shit hive mind in TGWDLM. Which.. no. I do love the guy dont’ get me wrong.. but it was very obvious both from the way his musical number was done compared to the rest of the ones in the musical, and his actions that was entirely him, and his playing the music was so he could join, especially since we don’t see the hive mind use any mind manupluation on anyone else. Regular manipulation sure as seen with you tied up my heart and not your seed, manipulating charoltte into freeing her asshole husband so he could infect her and torturing bill for funsies. Just something to get out of the way. Point is he was always crazy we just now have him chasing an innocentish woman with his dong hanging out to prove it. He eventually catches her as Lucy catches herself in one of his bear traps when she hits the woods, because he had those for some reason.. and he has a resonable way out: Just give her the 30,000 dollars he needs for his musical. Thing is she dosen’t have the money.. or hardly any. She spent all of it trying to find the ape man and was marrying jonathan for his money and him for her title. And while it is a bit skeezy, it’s very clear both were using each other and likely knew it, and Lucy still comes out the most moral of our cast here.. granted it’s not a big stretch as hidgens is criminally insane, ted’s a skeeze and Jonathan.. well he’s just a diiiiiiccckkkk. It’s not hard is what i’m saying.. much like hidgen’s dick flopping around in the rain. But yeah he dosen’t take it well, Lucy goes up a tree, which is apparently something Becky did once. But before Lucy can die at the hands of a naked thespian, the REAL Ape-Man shows up and tears Hidgen’s arms off, taking lucy in his own arms afterwords and revealing he remembers her. The two hit it off instantly, it turns out his name is chumby in an excellent gag as that was what Hidgens wanted his fake ape man to be named but Ted froze, and go off into the night together. Awww.. what if a naked ape man played by my boy jeff blim and a british person can’t work who can?

We then close out the segment with a cameo appearance by Jamie Lynn Beatty, who while not part of the cast for this double feature, does get a fun showtune about the ape man. Also fun fact that i found out here on tumblr: That costume is from something Jamie did in HIGH SCHOOL. As in well over a decade ago. Like holy shit, good for her. She looks great in it. But yeah it’s a fun song and a nice way to close it out. Final Thoughts on the Hatchetfield Ape-Man: This was a great way to start things off. This one was more in line with starkids pre-hatchetfield work, a goofy story with some hidden depth inside. And like the guy who didn’t like musicals it was utterly terrifying in spots so yeah good stuff ,utterly hilarous and a great way to bring back some old faviorites while giving us a neat new protaganist. Good stuff.

Watcher World:

Now from a mostly comedy with a horrifying ending to just.. pure unfiltered horror and depression! It’s Watcher World! Bill and Alice are back! And given I love Mariah Rose Faith and Corey Dorris, I was exastic to find this was what the second segment was about.. mostly because I had no idea Starkid had teasers for the episodes on their instagram, or I would’ve known Hidgens was coming. I wouldn’t of known he’d be stark naked for the last third of his story but still, pleasant surprise.

So Bill and Alice are spending the day at Watcher World, a run down amusement park on the edge of town. It’s Alice’s last weekend before College so Bill’s trying to reconnect with her by cramming a good old fashioned family vacation down her throat. Alice is less than enthused, both because she clearly resents her dad in general, and because Deb is throwing a huge rager on the same night. My honest interpretation of that is that Deb fully inteded for her girlfriend to come but Bill sprung this on Alice at the last minute and being pretty oblivious and hating Deb, either didn’t care about taking alice from one last night with her friends and girlfriend or didn’t generally think that through. I mean don’t get me wrong normally i’d side with a parent not wanting their daughter to attend a huge teen rager on their last weekend together.. but it’s also Alice’s last weekend in town for some time, and it’s likely a saturday.. so he has another day, and presumibly had friday before this and while things with his ex wife are tense, fighting for an extra day with her would be understandable and i’ts not like Alice, even if she hates Bill, would really fight him on getting an extra day in the town she didn’t want to leave.

But that’s what I really like about this one that it’s layered. While Alice is slightly more in the right, she’s still shutting her dad out, refusing to let him follow her on instagram (though he does agree with her keeping it private as he dosen’t want Ted perving on her, which tracks, or Ted’s brother doing it which.. wait what?), and being on her phone the whole time to very clearly spite him and rub how much she dosen’t want to be there in her dad’s face. She dosen’t WANT to be at watcher world but instead of trying to talk to her Dad just wants to complain and apparenlty has on all their vacations.. it’s easy to see why Bill is annoyed by his daughter at times and thinks he has to FORCE HER to have fun with him, because otherwise she’d gladly ignore him for their entire weekends together for Deb. She’s so determined to punish her dad for the divorce, that she refuses to see on some level he IS trying, and is just sad about her leaving, and possibly leaving him forever and alone with nothing else in his life but his buddy Paul, whose getting married next week so that’s probably not helping. On the other hand the reason I say Alice is more in the right is that well.. Bill’s a grown ass men. And while, speaking for himself, grown ass men don’t always make the right decisions, and not speaking for myself neither do fathers... Alice’s acting out is understandable coming from an 18 year old whose been through hell over the last year, having her parents divorce being forced to move, loosing her friends. Bill however just kind of uses her age and angst as an excuse to undermine and belittle her feelings. Because he doesn’t like deb for the very stupid reasons of she does pot, instead of assuring her that Deb wouldn’t cheat on Alice with Deb’s former crush Zigg, starkid’s first non binary character in a nice show that Nick Lang wasn’t just covering his ass when he said there’d be more representation in starkid, which in his defense I didn’t doubt him on but it’s still nice he did so at the earliest opportunity and very clearly plans to use Zigg if he can find a nonbinary actor for them.

But yeah instead of assuring his daughter, Bill is just like “well sometimes relationships don’t work out” which while true is clearly his self serving way of trying to get Alice to break up with someone he dosen’t like. INstead of supporting her in her dreams of writing plays, one of which was good enough to get her a scholarship, he tries to act like she has no plans for her future and get her to be a doctor for more security, even though having a secure job has done.. no one at his office including him favors. I mean again, the most stable and happy person at the office is the guy in charge, and even he can’t tell his wife he wants her to choke him out at night. He wants her to choke him, he wants her to choke him while he jerks off, he wants her to choookeeee himmm while heeeee jerrrkssss offfff.

While part of this seems to be that Deb plans to be a starving artist who can mooch off her parents in a pinch, Alice GENUINELY seems to have a full plan for her life. I do get his worrying about her future.. but she’s a smart kid. A bit of a brat but she knows what she wants clealry and clearly has talent. He’s just projecting his own fears on her. He also refuses to accept any responsibility in the divorce.. his hating his ex wife IS valid, as she took his daughter away, uprooted her life a year before graduation and spends gobs of money on impressive outings, the latter two seemingly just to spite him when honestly, it’d of made more sense for Alice to stay with Bill for the year before she graduates and been better for her. However, Bill still doesn’t take responsibly that he too is shoving fun down her throat to try and win her over, hates her girlfriend and refuses to treat her with any respect, and really DOSEN’T know Alice all that well. As we learn during their fun day she has anxiety, and he never knew about it. And the divorce isn’t really an excuse when he had years before that. It’s the real problem of their relationship: Bill feels ENTITLED to a good father daughter relationship, but isn’t working at it and blames his ex wife or Alice for it instead of himself. While Alice isn’t an innocent as i’ve made clear, putting up walls and not telling dad things, given bill ignores her when she DOES try to tell him about her life, it’s easy to see she’s just given up. If he won’t listen why bother. Which yeah i’ve found myself there with my own dad from time to time. Bill’s not a bad person, he genuinely loves Alice, as he says “to the moon and back”, but it’s very clear from this outing he still loves the little girl who loved him unconditionally and not the complicated and mopey adult sh’es become, and dosen’t WANT to adapt to that and fears once she leaves for college she’ll avoid him for good, which isn’t unfounded. It’s a good, complex rich dynamic. Naturally with.. all this I covered up front instead of sprinkling it throughout, the day doesn’t go great, with Alice utterly miserable most of the time, and ending up in a goofy novelty t-shirt due to a log ride. She also has an unsettling encounter with park mascot Blinky, our newest adorable abomination, who not only shows up the moment she does something bad on camera but also stares at her ass, which.. Paul you mind coming back for a second?

Thank you. They end up at the Watch Party, a cheesy kids show musical because Bill apparently equates this with his daughter loving musicals. I mean granted cheesy kids stage shows can be rad just listen to this.

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But I get Alice’s annoyance here. Thus we get the return of the sniggles, who apparently serve whatever eldrich deity is around this week and our first song of this segment, The Blinky Song. Which is catchy as hell as well as hilariously dark (”I’m so hungry”), and uses the stock footage well, as I could buy a cheap theme park ran by an eldtirch eye goblin using stock footage. But yeah it establishes Blinky as always watching and kinda fucked up. Also the sniggles are now clearly the smurgs with Angie’s now being named Sniglette, Jeff being papa Sniggle and James being Snigglotts. However Sniglette considers leaving with another song with a long string of words. Then, things get.. dark as the rest of the sniggles don’t want her to leave and try and mob her, and then Papa Sniggle accidently wings her with a mallet and apparenlty injures the actual performer, before everyone’s ushered out and the usher pretends nothing happened. Good mind screw horror stuff.

Alice and Bill then bicker a bit with my above point being made as Alice TRIES to get Bill to accept some respoinablity but he refuses and blames her mom. It’s now time for the Tear-Jerker, the reason they came. Bill’s buddy Paul says someone died. They also find three other people waiting in line and when one goes to the bathroom the other two start making out which.. yeah, dosen’t help Alice’s worry Deb’s going to cheat on her. So she takes the first single rider pass she can, with Bill worming his way in as to not let her get away. The two naturally end up fighting on the Tear-Jerker before it stops up high, and ends up stalled, with the gloriously returning Nerdy Kid played by Joey from Black Friday being as helpful as usual. Seriously bless them for bringing him back. Man in a Hurry also showed up again, bless him too. Alice picks this time to reveal her fear of heights and anxiety, and an approaching storm isn’t helping. So Bill.. steps up. He helps ease Alice down taking her phone for her, if loosing it due tot he rain and helping her stay calm. It’s a REALLY nice portrayal of an anxiety attack, with Mariah herself apparently having them and thus portraying it really well. As someone who has them myself it really hits home and Bills calm attempts to help her are really heartwarming, getting her to describe her musical for him and the two bonding. It’s genuinely sweet. But.. it can’t last, as Alice freaks out about her phone and Bill for once is in the right, as .. he was you know.. trying to save his daughter having a panic attack, and really stepped up given he was obnovious she had anxiety in the first place, and managed it well. He then gives the utterly heart stomping line “I love you to the moon and back, but sometime’s it’s really hard to like you. “

Just damn. So Alice runs off and both find their way to the fairway. Bill tries winning a doll for Alice, getting into a test of strength where he fails repedatly and is constantly mocked by the barker, played by James Tolbert who also played Blinky..

That should be Tolbert’s twitter handle. Anyway point is, Bill keeps trying even as he wracks up 400 dollars in credit card debt, for a 49.95 doll, before eventually the barker and hte crowd’s jeers get to be too much and he does smack it hard, thinking of all of his pent up rage towards alice.. just as the bell at the top takes the shape of alice’s head and explodes. Bill is naturally horrified by this by the barker assures he loves him.. and that he should totally hobble his daughter misery style to make her not leave him and use the mallet for it. Meanwhile Alice is at the shooting Gallery not wanting the blinky doll she wins, just blowing off steam when she runs into an old crone played by Lauren Lopez. But this Crone has her phone... which suspiciously has a ton of instagram photos of Deb and Zigg making out while sharing a toke. Granted Deb COULD’VE cheated, but given Alice is insecure, and her phone was given back to her by a witch working for an eye goblin.. yeah maybe just maybe Deb was loyal, and if she wasn’t wouldn’t be dumb enough to put it on instagram. But given Alice is already worked up it’s easy enough for her to beliive that her relationships in danger and if she gets there in time she can stop it and oh look her gun is now a real gun and can help her get the keys. So yeah it’s time for a creepy as hell Shining-esque showdown, but if both sides were possesed instead of one. It’s.. a CHILLING as hell scene, not helped by Alice wielding a gun again as both fight. I was gripped the entire time and don’t have much to say utter than HOLY SHIT THIS WAS AS TERRIFYING AS IT WAS RIVITING.

But a crowd gathers as the fight continues.. all with purple eyes which ave been seen on and off, watchers with a thousand eyes.. and with Blinky, now revealed NOT to be a costume probably, above them all. We also get one hell of a line. “This is an amusement park but not for YOUR amusement.”

So yeah I love this sequence.. and Blinky as a villain. While it’s vague if he and Blinky are the same entity.. I’m going with not. It’s not a stretch that like Cthulu, Wiggly has brothers in the black and white, with their own motives, methods and ability to get into our world. Unlike Wiggly.. Blinky’s already here and has no real ambition other than to find people to mentally tear apart and set loose on one another for his own amusement. He doesn’t have grand plans of burning the world.. he just wants to be entertained. It’s an interesting and chilling motive and I hope we see him again eventually. I also believe those at the park are trapped there bound after their own day there and trapped doing whatever Wiggly needs. Except maybe squeaky voiced teen. He probably just complains about cleaning up so much blood. But yeah Blinky is very happy as the fight escalates into the hall of mirrors and Alice looses her gun.. with Bill now poised to strike down his daughter as the mirror reflects the various workers at the park, all encouraging him to kill her... it’s utterly terrifying as Bill’s eyes take on a purple tint.. and we get a POWERFUL use of the score and the “why does it hurt to love you’ bit from TGWDLM.. as Bill sees himself and what he’s about to do, sees his daughter understandably having a panic attack.. and calms her, his eyes returning and the two reconciling. Of course Blinky isn’t happy about this “sappy bullshit” and brings htem into his domain, charging at them. But kinda missing that giving a pissed off teenager a rifle she knows how to use when you have a giant target for a face isn’t a good idea and she shoots him, with him bleeding a flood of purple goo that sends them out. While I doubt Winky’s dead, he is done with them. Our story concludes on a sweeet note as the two find their car, and they finally make as tep forward, Bill having seen almost too late how selfish and controlling he was being and accepting his daughter on her phone.. and Alice realizing her need to open up and after checking Instagram, likely finding out those photo’s weren’t real, she throws her phone in the back.. but not before accepting her dad’s request, letting him in. Sure the road ahead is rough.. but the two have made a good first step towards repairing things and loving one another again in a healthy manner. and all it took was bill nearly murdering her and allice shooting an eye goblin int he face and getting covered in his blood. Cue the credits, a beautiful song called “One Thousand Eyes” with Jeff Blim fucking nailing it. A great way to send off this bit. Final Thoughts: This was the best one of the two. While Ape Man is really good too, this one took the darker tone of black friday, but with a tighter narrative. By focusing on a smaller cast, the darker elements really played better and the conclusion felt more satisfying.. though it helped that BOTH of these tails ended without everyone dying, and while I doubt EVERY story will have a happy ending, it makes things more interesting knowing that the heroes can get a happy ending this time around instead of an apocalypse.

Overall Thoughts: This double feature was great, I’ll be getting a ticket to the next one if I can afford it, and if not i’ll see it presumably in December or next year when it comes on YouTube. Really excellent stuff. So this was a first for me but if you’d like to see more starkid stuff from me, let me know in the comments or my askbox, commission me to review one of the musicals via dm, and if you liked how I did this review follow this blog for weekly ducktales and loud house coverage, and amphibia coverage when that returns, among more fun reviews. And until next time.. don’t blink. Play us out Jeff.

youtube

I really hope this is the ending theme for the series.

#nightmare time #hatchetfield #the hatchetfield ape man #watcher world #ted #professor henry hidgens #Bill Woodward #Alice Woodward #Lucy Stockworth #halloween #halloween havoc #paul matthews #jeff blim #team starkid #starkid

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secret-engima · 4 years

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Braids questions! What do elders do when their hair falls out and they no longer have enough hair for their Clan braids? Do they tattoo the braid on their skin? Wear a wig? Wear a braid of leather/silk (like some padawans in sw do)? At what age do kids start wearing Clan braids regularly? And what happens if someone cuts off their/another’s braids? (What would cause someone to cut their own or another’s braids?)

Ohh good questions! When their hair starts falling out, they prepare an artificial braid made of silk dyed in their personal balance of the Clan colors, with all the beads they earned throughout their lives displayed on it/them (some elders/clans have more than one braid after all.) They start wearing those even before they’ve lost enough hair to not be able to have a “real” braid just to get everyone used to the idea. If I was more creative than I am atm I would probably talk about how the REALLY old elders get to have a fancy, if small, headdress thing out of like- bone and silk and leather braids hanging down that is like a silent display of all their accomplishments in life.

Kids start wearing the Clan braids as soon as they have enough hair to do so without hurting the scalp or whatever, their parent puts it in. As the kid gets older, they are taught by their parent/guardian how to do the braid themselves and what other types of braid there are.

Cutting braids is ... oh boy. OH BOY. *cracks knuckles* HERE WE GO.

The legal version of this is Exile. When someone in the Clan has committed a crime so horrible it will not be borne by other punishments, that member is dragged out before the entire village in undyed leathers (no more Clan colors, no NOTHING), and are both forcibly tattooed somewhere visible on their person with a mark of Exile + a symbol of their crime and then the braids are cut off and thrown into the fire to burn, beads and all. It’s ... it’s basically the most humiliating and horrifying thing that can happen in their culture, barring a few exceptions. Clan braids are, are nigh on sacred. Even ENEMY Clans, if they have any honor, will not try to harm the braids in battle and even when trying to break captives for info they Will. Not. Cut. The Braid.

The braids are ... they’re a symbol. Of family, of connection, of history. That braid is the same style of braid your parents wore, and their grandparents of the Clan wore and so on all the way back to the legendary chiefs and heroes and founders of Galahd (at least according to the story). That braid represents all you Clan history, all your family, all your memories and loved ones in the Clan. Other braids can be added for things like mourning or marriage, for positions like chieftain/chieftess or for special deeds done, but the Clan Braid is the first braid. It is Special. Cutting any braid is seen as assault tantamount to a war crime, but cutting the Clan Braid is cutting off someone from their family, their home, their history, their own NAME. It’s rendering them Nothing™. And yea from an outsider POV that seems very melodramatic but to a culture that is primarily Oral, where symbols are treasured and connections to family prized above all else ... it’s not. It’s really not.

Anyway, let me pause to clarify something that you didn’t: Galahdians know that accidents happen, they know that in a fight, or a hunt, or just a spar gone wrong the braids might get pulled or nicked. It’s horrible yes, but that’s- that’s not the same as CUTTING. Losing half a braid in the heat of battle will win some tears from the person who lost it, but the braid is still partly there, and a leather or silk replacement can be worn until the hair grows back. If the bead is pulled out and the braid comes loose, a replacement bead can be made and the braid woven back in, it’s okay.

Cutting a Braid in the Really Emotional Instances means pulling it tight and shearing it as close to the scalp as possible. It has to be very, very clearly intentional that way and that’s the heartbreaking one. Just getting nicked in battle is ... emotionally not fun, but not “I have been robbed of everything I am” kinda thing. Okay? Okay.

Moving on, to CUT one’s own braid is ... to intentionally exile oneself from the Clan. It’s an action that is usually done in front of witnesses to really count/make a point but can also be done without witnesses. Once it’s done however, it cannot be taken back. That’s it. The individual has cut themselves off from their family, their Clan, and their past. Some even abandon their first name, but all abandon their last name because it is no longer theirs. Reasons for this vary but it is NOT something to be done lightly. It’s ... usually either because the person believes they are no longer deserving of the Clan and are exiling themselves OR the person believes that the Clan itself has somehow betrayed them beyond all reconciliation and are cutting ties to the Clan very literally.

Note that a formally exiled individual (the one who got their braid cut by their Clan and a tattoo of their crime placed somewhere on their person), barring Very Unusual Circumstances, cannot be adopted into any other Clan. Most Clans won’t even talk to the exile of another clan, and even in war, if the Exile tries to sell information about their former Clan, they will be treated very warily and not allowed to join a new Clan.

Clan members who have had their braid cut by a dishonorable enemy as part of torture are not Exiles and will be welcomed back to the Clan with open arms and much mourning on their behalf.

Clan members who cut their own braid and self-exiled usually don’t WANT to join another Clan, at least for a while, but if they prove themselves to another Clan by intent or by accident then it is acceptable for the new Clan to offer to adopt them.

Fun Fact/HC: when Regis first founded the Kingsglaive it was, as a military branch, originally gonna have the “mandatory short haircut” thing. When the Galahdians discovered this, they freaked and were just about ready to RIOT. The recruits who hadn’t realized that “hair cut” meant “CUTTING OFF THE BRAIDS TOO” (they assumed the needed short hair with the EXCEPTION of braids because what are you a monster?) figured it out before any Braids were lost and immediately barricaded themselves in their barracks to Panic™. This caused a lot of annoyance with the sergeants who eventually had to call down the King to personally resolve the matter after more Galahdians heard about it and swarmed over the training grounds ready to Throw Hands.

Regis came down and politely tried to ask the nearest Galahdian why this was such a problem, the Galahdians were all too freaked out and angry to really answer (BECAUSE WHY EVEN ASK, IT’S OBVIOUS??? they think to themselves) and, in a rare moment of Social Awareness, Cor stepped in and gruffly (loudly) stated that FOR INSOMNIANS, hair and braids had no particular cultural meaning, IF THIS WAS NOT THE CASE for Galahdians, SOMEONE please step forward and SAY SO.

After about five minutes of horrified realization from the Galahdians (because oh yeah, they knew mainlanders didn’t have Clans but- but somehow they hadn’t expected braids to Not Be A Thing™), one of the recruits poked his head out of the barracks and then shakily came over to the King. Kneeling, the recruit haltingly explained that braids were sacred to Galahdians, a sign of family and home and belonging and to cut it off ... the recruit shuddered and visibly blanched at just the thought and wouldn’t go on, but by this point Regis got the point and firmly announced that the Kingsglaive would be allowed to keep their braids and hair the way they wished so long as they could prove that their hair would not be a hindrance in battle. Being Galahdians used to handling the Jungle, this was easily proven and the regulation was removed by Royal Order and all the Galahdians collectively breathed a sobbing sigh of relief.

#SE asks #a-world-in-grey asks #Secret Engima Rambles #galahd culture #Stand Strong Verse #Thrown to Wolves verse

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alarawriting · 4 years

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Inktober 2020 #5/Writeober 2020 #1: Blade

I have a feeling this might be based on a Tumblr prompt but I can’t remember where or when...

***

Aster finished haggling with the merchant for tomatoes, and turned, certain that someone was watching her. There was an old woman standing in the center of the market way, looking directly at Aster, and there was something strange about her – aside from the gray braid that went down to her knees, given that the old women Aster knew cut their hair short to make it easier to keep it, since they were going to put a kerchief over it anyway. After a moment, Aster isolated it – no one was looking at the woman. No one was looking away from her either. It was as if no one in the market could see her, aside from Aster.

She went on to the merchant selling cauliflower, broccoli and beans. The old woman followed her, and now she was closer. There was still no one else looking at the woman, but they all stepped out of her way, casually, as if they just felt like bending their path slightly.

Finally, Aster went to a tree on the side of the market, and waited. The old woman strolled over to her. “You’re Aster Sennadotter? Daughter of Canlon the Eater of Fire?”

“Who wants to know?” Aster asked. Mom and Dad had been heroes, once upon a time. Some of those who’d know that Dad was the legendary Fire-Eater were those who’d have nothing but praise for him and his deeds. Some… were not.

“I’m an old friend of your father’s. Has he never told you of the wizard Enteleki?”

Aster’s eyes went wide. “That’s you?” She looked the tiny, ancient woman up and down. “I thought you’d be taller.”

“Many say that. Tell me, has your father trained you in the blade?”

The phrasing was a little weird; it took Aster a moment to realize that Enteleki meant trained her to use blades, in general. “Mom taught me some dagger work. Throwing, mostly, but some up close, for self defense. Dad hasn’t taught me anything.” She abruptly realized how that sounded. “Anything like that. I mean, he taught me how to fish and ride a horse and identify weeds and things like that. But nothing about blades.”

“So you’ve never learned to use the Sword of the Eater?”

“Are you kidding?” Aster laughed disbelievingly. “I’ve never even seen it. Dad said it was lost after he defeated the last of the Servants of the Phoenix.”

“It wasn’t,” Enteleki said. “He’s still got it. He must have hidden it from you.”

Aster shrugged. “He probably had good reasons. He’s done adventuring, he says. He just wants to live on the farm and grow our crops in peace.”

Enteleki shook her head. “Short-sighted. Of course, he’s done adventuring, no one would expect a man his age, with a family and a farm, to go on a quest. But the thought never entered his mind that the world might need you, did it?”

“Why would the world need me? My mom and dad may have been heroes, but I’m just a farm girl.”

“Your father was a farm boy before he was a hero. Your mother, the granddaughter of the village wisewoman. They were nothing special, before destiny called them.” She leaned heavily on her staff. “Just as it’s calling you now.”

“Why me?”

“You’ll figure it out. Just know for now that you are your father’s daughter. Ask him for the sword and prepare to leave. Or the Lady of Light will destroy everything – including your town, including your farm.”

Aster scowled. “I’ve never heard of her, but, generally speaking, why would someone named the Lady of Light be evil?”

Enteleki looked up into her eyes, and it felt like the old woman was a hawk, sizing Aster up as prey. “Phoenixes are creatures associated with life and rebirth; why would evil people call themselves the Servants of the Phoenix? Evil people lie, Aster. And they lie to themselves, and tell themselves they are good, perhaps that they are the only good ones in the world. Battles are never between good and evil. They are between those who seek to cause harm, even though they may think they are doing what is best for everyone, and those who seek to mitigate or stop the harm, or to make something that helps come to pass.”

“Okay, but… if evil people think they’re doing what’s best, and good people think they’re doing what’s best… how do you tell which is which?”

Enteleki barked laughter, sharp and hard. “How indeed. But the Servants of the Phoenix were burning the wisewomen, claiming that those who followed the ways of the Phoenix would have eternal life, and wouldn’t need wisewomen to heal them, and therefore wisewomen were evil because they tempted people away from the righteous path of the Phoenix. Tell me, was anyone ever good because they burned healers to death?”

“No,” Aster said firmly. Her own mother was a wisewoman, just as her great-grandmother had been. “All of that sounds wrong. I mean… why would you have to worship the Phoenix? What if you have a different god? And even if you did worship the Phoenix… no one ever said the worshippers of the Phoenix come back to life, only the Phoenix itself. And even if you were going to come back to life, why would you not want willowbark for a headache, or a poultice if you get injured? Phoenixes come back to life by dying in fire first. You’re not going to set yourself on fire if you strained your leg.”

“And that is why your father had to defeat them, with the help of your mother and their friends. The Lady of Light claims that she will drive out the darkness, and bring enlightenment. But her idea of ‘darkness’ includes men drinking in pubs and tossing dice, women brewing beer, people telling stories where anything happens that involves an evil act even if the evil act is done by the villain of the piece, men and women who love their own sex, and people who join in love before marriage even if they’re betrothed. As well as many other things. She sees our land as steeped in sin, and she wants to conquer us and burn out the ‘sins’ of the people… by setting fire to their homes and farms, if necessary, and for some reason she always finds it necessary.”

“Okay… yeah, that does sound pretty evil. But how do I know you’re telling the truth? Maybe you’re an evil wizard and this Lady of Light person is actually great and you’re lying to me.”

Enteleki smiled. “Your parents taught you to question. That’s very good. A skill that will serve you, in life. But the answer is, firstly, your parents know me, so you can ask them if I am trustworthy in the things I say. Secondly, you can go deeper into town and give the crier a coin and ask them to tell you everything they know about the Lady of Light, and my suspicion is, they’ll back up what I’ve said, because there aren’t many of her followers around here – which is why she wants to burn it all. Ask a few women at the washer-well what they’ve heard. Ask your parents if they know anything about it. And then take everything you’ve heard, and use your own judgement to decide who’s right.”

“All right,” Aster said. “I will.”

Beginning with telling Mom and Dad all about this.

***

Canlon Shreveson, called by some the Fire-Eater, stormed out of his house in a fury, grabbed his horse, and rode down the dirt path outside his property far enough that he knew neither his daughter nor his wife would see or hear any of it. He dismounted, and yelled, “Enteleki!”

There was no guarantee she would come just because he’d said her name. Wizards weren’t summonable. They showed up when they wanted to. But he suspected Enteleki would want to, and he was not disappointed. One moment there was nothing at the edge of the forest, and in the next, there was an old woman wrapped in a cloak.

She hadn’t changed at all. Most old women, if they didn’t die between the time you first became a man and the time you were settled with a farm and a wife and a teenage daughter, became frailer, more wrinkled. Thinner, usually. Sometimes smaller. Enteleki looked exactly the same as when he’d last seen her, nearly twenty years ago.

“What in seven hells are you trying to do with my daughter?”

“I’d think it’d be obvious,” Enteleki said. “You’re in no shape to go kill the Lady of Light, or even stop her, and you’re not the right one for the job anyway. Your daughter is.”

“My daughter is the Chosen One for some new damned quest to stop some other monstrous person from causing death and chaos. Am I hearing this correctly?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Canlon said, almost roaring it, in the tiny woman’s face. “NO! Aster is fifteen. Fifteen, damn you! She’s not even old enough to get married!”

“Senna was sixteen.”

“Senna was our healer. We tried to keep her out of the fighting as best as we could. And I don’t know what you told her grandmother to let her come with us, but whatever it was, I suspect she cursed you to have the eternal crows pick your bones when she realized what you’d sent a child into. I was too young then to realize how wrong it was for Senna to go with us… and Senna was a year older than Aster is now.”

“Do you think I do this for fun?” Enteleki glared up at him. “Do you think I send children into battle out of love for their parents’ distress? Just once I would like to find that the Chosen One is twenty-six and an experienced mercenary, thank you. But no. You were eighteen when the bones and the ashes told me you were the one. And forty years before you were born, it was a girl of thirteen years, and I did my best to protect her as best I could, but she wasn’t as fortunate as you. She lived, but there was darkness behind her eyes all her life, and she took it finally, three years after you were born. And before her, there was Melen the Rogue, who was seventeen then. I don’t know why it’s always children. I don’t know why we need to have heroes at all – why can’t ordinary people taking up arms do what must be done? But it’s always the same – so much more war, so much more death, if the child heroes don’t go up against the evil of the day. Maybe the world would eventually prevail and become a bright and loving place again, but there would be so many dead, so many made displaced refugees.”

Enteleki had never spoken to Canlon this way before. She’d seemed so encouraging, so strong, when he was young. It had honestly never occurred to him that any part of what she did might bother her. “And so you need to sacrifice my daughter so that hundreds can live in peace.”

“Yes.”

“No! Not my daughter. Not this time.”

Enteleki’s eyes narrowed. “You know well that if the Lady of Light isn’t stopped, this whole land will burn. Your farm as well, and your neighbors’. You know that if the duke musters an army against her in time, which is unlikely in itself, your farm may be burned by your own countrymen so that the Army of Light can’t resupply here. Are those good fates for your daughter?”

“No. But she shouldn’t be the one.” Canlon took a deep breath. “I’m experienced. I know how to wield the Blade of the Eater. She’s never held a sword in her hands before. I’ve done this before and I can do it again. I’ll be the one to fight the Lady of Light, so that Aster can stay safe.”

Enteleki shook her head sadly. “You’re not the one. You’ll fail. Aster’s the one who can succeed.”

“My daughter is not taking up my blade – that she has no idea how to use – and going to war. End of story. I’ll go. And if I fall, at least I’ll fall knowing I was protecting my daughter.”

“Which will reassure her greatly when she becomes an orphan.”

“You can’t stop me, Enteleki. I know you. You can’t take my sword from me; I’d have to give it to you for you to give it to Aster, and I won’t. I’ll take it with me to challenge the Lady of Light. Now you can fight by my side and maybe make it less likely that I’ll fall, or you can get out of my way.”

“I won’t stand in your way,” Enteleki said, almost sadly. “And I’ll do what I can to help you. But it won’t be enough. You will fall, and then either Aster will take up your blade, or this land will burn.”

“We’ll see about that,” Canlon said.

#inktober 2020 #writeober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #fantasy

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hylian-champion · 3 years

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Link’s Letters, the last Champion’s Diary

The first few entries are old / posted before but I decided to post them all together in one place anyway!!

Aryll,

I know I haven’t been able to see you for a while. I hope this letter makes up for it. People look at me differently lately. They treat me differently too. But I don’t feel any different. Am I different to you too? … Is it because of that sword?

They say I’m the reincarnation of the hero of legend. As such, it is my duty to fight and win against the beast that threatens Hyrule.

That hero… he was said to have tremendous courage. He must have in order to face such a terrible demon. If that’s the case, I don’t feel like a hero either. But I’ll try. I’ll keep up a brave face for everyone’s sake. Though, honestly, I’m terrified…

P.S. Don’t tell dad I said that.

I met the BIGGEST Goron today. Though I can’t tell what’s bigger: him or his appetite. I never knew Gorons ate rocks either. Weird. He offered me to try something called ‘rock roast’ which is apparently a local delicacy on Death Mountain. It’s… crunchy.

Daruk is a very warm and friendly soul. It feels like you could have known him for ages when you’ve only just met. I really like him, and the Gorons in general. They’re pretty straightforward people. Incredibly strong too. Daruk seems to think I’ve got Goron-like strength as well. Maybe if I eat more rocks I could be as strong as him one day.

It’s been so long since I last saw Lady Mipha. I heard that she was the one chosen to pilot Divine Beast Vah Ruta. To imagine her on the front lines of this battle… I was hoping to talk her out of it.

When I arrived she told me about a Lynel on Polymus Mountain that has been terrorizing the Zora with its shock arrows. If you didn’t already know, those arrows can be deadly to the Zora. So I set off straight away to deal with it but Mipha… she followed me. Despite how dangerous I insisted it was, she wouldn’t turn back and we argued. I never knew she could raise her voice like that. The Lynel must have heard us and got the jump on us from behind. I took an arrow or two to the back though I didn’t actually feel it until after the monster was long gone. I’m alright, though, don’t worry.

Having Mipha there… her support means a lot to me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Today we have all been formally appointed as Champions. After the ceremony, I wanted to see those relics—the Guardians—up close. They’re meant to help us in our fight against Ganon, and… I have to say I’m glad they’re on our side. One of the ancient machines went out of control and started shooting a deadly beam at anyone who came close to it. I only had a pot lid to reflect its attack, but it worked!

The king saw what happened and wanted to have a word with me. I thought he was upset because I broke one of the relics meant to save us…

As if being a Champion wasn’t enough, it seems your brother is now the princess’s appointed knight.

I should feel proud, shouldn’t I? It’s a great honor…

The princess and I have arrived at Rito Village. I bet you would love the Rito. They resemble birds, though I don’t think they bear any relation to your cuccos. It may be rude to ask.

Oh, but I did get to talk to the Rito Champion, Revali. Or… more like he talked to me and flew off. I can’t help but feel he looks down on me for some reason. Maybe it’s because of his height. Or that he spends a lot of time in the sky. You would have no choice but to look down on people from up there.

If I were up there, I would never look down. For the most part because I’d just get terribly dizzy from the view. Do you remember when one of your birds got itself stuck on top of that old flagpole? I never want to climb anything like that again for as long as I live.

We set out for Goron City today. The princess is intending to help Daruk with his control over Divine Beast Vah Rudania. It’s really quite admirable how determined she is. When she sets her mind to something she’s so focused on it, it’s like I’m not even there… Or, rather I get the feeling she wishes I wasn’t. Maybe I’m overthinking it?

Still, the first time she addressed me, she wanted to know about the sword. Of course. The old legends say there is a voice that’s supposed to guide the chosen hero. She asked if I could hear it. I didn’t know what to tell her. So I said nothing. But I imagine she already knew the answer… She must despise me.

It was nice to see Daruk again. I wanted to ask him for some advice about… you know. Turns out he needed some help too. His control over his Divine Beast has been a little… rocky. Honestly how can a big guy like that be so hesitant? All he needed was a little push to get the boulder rolling. Now, his handle over Rudania is rock solid.

By the way, the postman can’t carry a whole rock roast all the way to Hateno for you. I asked. But I got you another Goron specialty: Goron Spice! Try it with some Hylian Rice and Goat Butter. It’s delicious!

I always had the feeling that the princess hated me, I just never realized how much she did. I don’t know what to do. She does everything she can to get away from me, even travel alone despite the dangers. She’s made it very clear that she does not want my company, and yet it’s still my job to protect her. I can’t disappoint the King.

But… I can’t stand being the reason she’d put herself in danger in the first place. I guess I can’t do anything right.

I can’t ask Lady Urbosa for help. I mean, you make a very good point, Aryll. But what do I tell the longtime friend of the Royal Family? ‘I lost the princess… again!’ She’s way too smart for me to keep up. She does everything in her power to avoid me. And, worse, she’s really good at it.

Though, I suppose if she keeps abusing Gerudo Town’s laws to separate us, the one person who has any way to address it is the Chief of the Gerudo…

I hate when you’re right.

It’s been days. I’ve searched every corner of this desert for the princess. Lady Urbosa said if she saw her she’d send word immediately. I get the feeling she knows exactly where she is. At least I hope so. The Yiga Clan has been all too active lately. But if she stays with Urbosa, then I know she’ll be safe. I just have to trust her.

Until then, I’ll stay close by at the Bazaar to keep an eye on things.

That reminds me I got you something. There’s a lady in Gerudo Town who makes all kinds of jewelry from circlets to earrings to pendants—don’t ask me how I got it—but I hope you like it.

Urbosa sent word last night that she’d found the princess but today, just like that, she was gone again in an instant. By the time I caught up to her I was almost too late.

She’s safe, now. A little shaken up, I think, but unharmed. Though this all started because she tries so hard to avoid me. I think… Tomorrow I should tell her… If she would rather have another knight accompany her, then I will send in my resignation to the King. Regardless of the shame and disappointment that will come with it. If my job is to protect her, then I have no other choice than to leave. She should be a lot happier with whoever ends up my replacement. Less inclined to run away too.

She… apologized… for everything. I think I get it. The princess carries such a heavy burden, and she does it with her head held high. She’s working harder than all of us to stay ahead of this prophecy. She’s so brave. I wish I could be more like her in that regard.

I could fight anything from lynels to hoards of moblins, but when it comes to… speaking… There’s so much I want to tell her. I’ve made up my mind, I’m going to try.

P.S. Maybe I should offer to cook for her? I could make her grandma’s famous pumpkin stew! Do you think she’d like it?

Zelda is staying at the Castle today to further her studies. With the whole royal guard there, she granted me some time off. This time I know it’s not just to get rid of me. I’ll be home soon, but I hope you don’t mind… I made a quick stop at Zora’s Domain to see Mipha. She took a look at that scar from the attack on Death Mountain and healed it right up.

Out of the blue, she started telling me about the namesake of Divine Beast Vah Ruta. Apparently it’s named after a Zora princess and one of the legendary sages from an age far older than the Great Calamity. Legend has it she fell in love with the Hylian hero of that time.

Do you think my past life married a princess? I can’t imagine.

We got caught in a rainstorm by Lake Hylia.

I’ll be honest. I used to hate this destiny stuff. But… sharing it with Zelda the Princess isn’t so bad. As long as we have each other, we can face anything.

By the way… How is father doing?

Is it wrong to butt heads with the King? I guess that’s a very stupid question. Of course it is. It isn’t my place to interfere and yet… You have no idea how much I wanted to say something today. To stand up and tell him he’s wrong.

Can they throw a Champion– a “hero of legend” in jail for speaking out of turn? I don’t know why that should even stopped me. I really am just too much of a coward.

It’ll be Zelda’s birthday in a couple days. She’s working harder than ever to unlock this sealing ability. The day she turns 17 she’s heading straight for Mount Lanayru without even a moment’s rest.

That’s right, you’re coming to Castle Town with father, aren’t you? It’s a national holiday, but the one person who doesn’t get the time off to enjoy it is the one who needs it most. Maybe meeting you will cheer her up before we head out to the Spring of Wisdom. I’m counting on you! I’ll see you soon.

Love, Link

#▲; side quests ( drabbles )#( I tried to mirror these as best as I could to the events in Zelda's and the other champion's diaries! c: )

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spirit-science-blog · 3 years

Video

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Ahhh, interstellar, a simple classic movie, about a farmer his family Some dust and a transdimensional interstellar quantum gravitational space travel.

Seriously!

So the basis of this movie is that in the future, the earth has become a global dustbowl due to humanity being excessive. It’s mostly a commentary on monoculture farming, which we’ve explored in our food series. Primarily by farming the same thing on the same land over and over, you lose the majority of your nutrient base due to lack of plant diversity. You also lose your root system, making it easy for winds to pick up dirt and throw it for miles and miles. Interstellar begins with a warning - if we continue living the way we are, this could be our world.

So the film introduces us to our main characters, Cooper, or Coop for short, and his daughter Murph. Now, there’s an interesting thing in these opening scenes, where we see Murph's teacher talking to Coop about his daughter's progress in school. She remarks about how the moon landings were fake. They were entirely propaganda to fool the Soviets into pouring their resources into the space program so that the Americans could gain an advantage in the war.

It’s so exciting seeing a Hollywood movie talk about this, because of course, if you google this, there are massive conspiracies today that say the moon landing was faked. Then again, we also have ex NASA officers and astronauts who publicly have said: “Yeah, we went up there and met a bunch of aliens and it was so crazy that NASA hid it from the world, and never went back.” You can learn more about that in our Sumerian Epic series. Ultimately, you’re going to have to decide for yourself on this one, but still interesting that we even see it mentioned in Hollywood!

Now, in many storylines today, we see this narrative of the hero’s journey, which often begins with a call to adventure. Interstellar features this through these strange gravitational anomalies vibrating morse code patterns in Murph's bedroom, which Coop and Murph translate to be co-ordinated to a nearby location. They make their way there and find none other than Nasa.

In this movie, Nasa is a driving force of the plot, providing the technology and the plans to execute a journey into a magical wormhole way out near Saturn. Now, I’m not here to get into the drama and conspiracies against or for Nasa, though yes, these things exist out on the internet. Curiously, we find a spiritual lesson about this in the film itself, and we’ll come back to that soon.

In these scenes, we see the opposing mentality of the many vs. The few. Mostly, everyone these days are just concerned with farming, they’re focused on survival and just getting enough to make it through to the next season, even though their crops are slowly growing smaller and smaller. The few, on the other hand, such as Coop, exclaim, “we used to be pioneers, explorers, adventurers… not just trying to survive”. And this becomes a question we can personally ask ourselves are we pushing the boundaries of what we know, or are we just trying to get by in life?

So upon the discovery of Nasa, we learn about this wormhole, a link through the spacetime into another galaxy, where there might just be a way to save their dying species. So Coop, Anne Hathaway, and two other characters who don’t make it to the end all get in a rocketship and blast into the universe to save the human race. Bringing with them, some unique and friendly robots, and a bunch of test-tube humans that they plan on growing somewhere, and they intend that if they can, maybe they can even transport some people there.

Perhaps one of the most fundamental hidden spiritual truths of this movie is that the deeper you get into science, into the unknown, into the universe, the more mystical reality gets. We see this with the wormhole itself. The funny thing about the wormhole, though, is that it was produced using the mathematics of an actual wormhole according to General Relativity! The visual fx artists worked with renowned Physicist, Kip Thorne, and used a mathematical representation of a massive black hole, then plugged it into their VFX generator, and this is what it turned into! They even produced a scientific paper about it. So this is an actual wormhole simulation, not just a fancy visual effect.

Now, maybe this is just me - but watching the sequence of going through the wormhole felt to me like my mind was expanding. Like reality was being stretched, like more was possible than it was before. It feels to me like this was an encoded message for the audience watching the movie, implanting within us this idea of what it looks and feels like to perceive spacetime differently, getting us ready for our transcendent evolution of consciousness.

Now, on the other side of the wormhole, they have three planets to visit in hopes of finding a new home for the human race. Their first guess takes them on a short trip to Waterworld, where they go surfing and chilling in the shallow side for the equivalent time of 23 earth years. It doesn’t go so well, and returning to their ship, they’re limited on fuel. So there’s this moment where they have to decide on which of the two planets to visit next, and they better pick well.

So it’s revealed that Dr. Hathaway is in love with one of the astronauts on one of the nearby worlds, Dr. Edmund. And there’s this very rousing speech from her about following our hearts., that love is powerful - it has to mean something. Love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving that can transcend the dimensions of time and space. It’s an overall very moving and emotional scene, and it might even make you cry.

Now, this IS Hollywood, so OF COURSE, the man immediately takes control of the situation and steers directly towards the other guy. The legendary, the one, the only Dr. Mann.

I gave him a little hype just now because this is how Dr. Mann is portrayed in this film. He is a legend; he is the best of the best; he was the one who brought everyone together and made this mission possible And then, well, this happened.

Dr. Mann is a personification of the ordinary human consciousness and our ego. I mean, his name is Mann. He is the one who could create miraculous things, but watch how quickly that personality can turn when it is filled with fear, dread, and isolation. This is what happened with Dr. Mann - He was isolated, stranded alone on a frozen planet with nobody else for the rest of his eternity. The last time he went into cryosleep, he didn’t even set wake-up time. This isolation and the fear of not surviving caused him to lie, caused him to tell people to come to his planet because it was the one. It caused him to betray his comrades, and in arrogant defiance to the truth - got himself killed. A valuable lesson for all of us doesn’t arrogantly defy the reality, or you shall suffer horrific karmic repercussions.

With the power of persistence, determination, and undying faith in the universe and himself, coop successfully reconnects his ship to the space dock even with it exploded and spinning like mad. Herein lies another secret lesson - if we set our hearts upon doing something, and we do it well, there’s nothing we can’t accomplish!

Okay, let’s pause for a moment and reflect briefly on the events back on earth. Throughout the film, it is slowly revealed that the head of Nasa has been lying. Coop's daughter noticed that it looked like he was doing equations with two hands tied behind his back. Then it was revealed that he knew a long time ago that it would be impossible to save the human race by using science to negate gravity and lifting off into a super space station. He could not reconcile quantum mechanics and general relativity. Still, he convinced everyone that it was possible, and he was working on it - so that people would work on the technology and carry out the mission.

THIS is the key to the whole Nasa conspiracy thing that we mentioned earlier. Because look - there is some evidence and speculation that NASA is hiding something, but instead of throwing shade, the film reminds us this valuable lesson that even the people who are behind NASA and other giant organizations are just that - people, subject to human desires and emotions, the positive and the negative, and are easily influenced to do things, such as lie or create deceptions, out of their fears and insecurities. The Nasa chief in the movie wasn’t able to see beyond the solution to his formula, he couldn’t conceive of a quantum interdimensional answer, probably because there was nowhere for him to go and take Ayahuasca. So he fooled everyone in a way that he believed was safe.

Jumping back to another galaxy and another timeline, Coop’s new plan is to slingshot them around the wormhole and over to their last remaining planet where maybe they’ve got a shot at growing some modern humans. In the process, coop sacrifices their robot and himself to make it happen. In a scene of great wisdom, Cooper says, “to get ahead mankind has always had to give something back/let something go,” and in this case - it was him. Honestly, this was a scene of tremendous bravery and courage to let oneself die to save their species.

And this is where Interstellar becomes a mystery school for us all. Cooper falls into a massive sphere inside the black hole, which then becomes these tunnels of lines, revealed to be pockets of time. On the other side of his tracks is his daughter's bookshelf, and he connects through his radio with Tarz, his robot buddy, also trapped inside this wormhole - who explains that he is inside a three-dimensional manifestation of a 5th-dimensional timeline. It’s time represented as a physical dimension, and Cooper can manipulate gravity from inside this time matrix because gravity is the only thing besides love that can go forwards and backward in time.

Cooper realizes that the gravitational anomalies that he saw at the beginning of the movie were him all along, giving himself messages from the future. He realized that the whole time he was thinking, “wow, it was THEM who have been helping us along,” alluding to some alien species. Still, honestly, that “them” was us - it was the evolved human consciousness that became 5th-dimensional beings through conscious evolution. It sent gravitational anomalies through time to help humanity grow in the first place.

What’s especially surprising about this is that that’s EXACTLY what the channeler Bashar has been saying in his channelings for years. That who he is channeling is himself from the future who, along with the rest of humanity, has evolved to higher consciousness, and he’s sending back information from the future about human evolution and how to make it happen.

Now, here’s a fun question that the movie will not even get into…. Why did the wormhole bring him THERE? Why that moment in time? Why that location? Well, in the bigger picture of the story, it’s because his daughter was the genius who could finish the mission and get quantum gravity liftoff to their earth-tech and save humanity. However, that’s only half the reason. The other half is because of something Dr. Mann said. When you’re about to die, you push a little farther to connect with your family and live longer.” The reason he went to the bookshelf was probably just as much because that’s what his subconscious manifested for him. After all, his loved ones were what he wanted most in life. Much of his driving actions in this film were because of his love for his children. Embodying the true spirit of the word Husbandry - the original meaning of which speaks to the nurturing and supporting of everything around the masculine father figure. This film asks us - what is it we truly care most about in our heart of hearts? And to dig deep into ourselves and find out what lights us up inside.

So Cooper transmits the quantum data to his daughter through time using morse code, and then he disappears into the void and wakes up in a hospital bed. A very long time has passed since he first left home, and his daughter is now an older woman on her deathbed. But Plan A is now fulfilled, using the data Cooper was able to send through the wormhole, young Murph was able to solve the gravitational propulsion problem to get Plan A, and the massive space station where Cooper awakens, out in space.

In an absolute heart-shattering scene, she tells him to leave her, she’ll be with her new family now, and that he should be with Anne Hathaway, and start a new life on a new planet and raise a new generation of humans on a new world. I’m sorry, this whole scene made me cry.

And so, that’s what Cooper does, bringing this film to an end. But the hidden spiritual meaning here goes on. See, the foundational message of Interstellar is not what most people think - the most excellent idea conveyed here is that of human evolution. That one day, we will evolve into a higher dimensional species, capable of perceiving time fundamentally different than we are today.

However, it will take some time to get there, and it’s up to us to make it happen. Interstellar warns us - we have to learn the lessons of caring and nurturing for each other and our world if we want to have a world to live on at all. We very well could destroy ourselves with our greed and excess. In other words, we must check ourselves before we wreck ourselves.

One thing Interstellar does make us feel this message takes us through large jumps in time. After Coop’s relatively short visit to the water planet (where he’s there for only several hours), the audience and Coop see both their astronaut comrade and young Murph age by 23 years. After he emerges from the black hole at the end of the film, his daughter is an older woman. These events show us viscerally that time is always passing, and compels the audience to make the most of what time they have, and show us the deep pain of missing out if we don’t seize the day, every day!.

But there is an even deeper message from this - because also if humanity destroys itself, even if we are pushed to the very brink of destruction, we can ALWAYS find our way back. All that it takes is unshakeable faith, love, and determination to see it through and do the things that are both scary and exciting.

So get out there and evolve into a multidimensional being!

Make sure to let us know what else you’d like to see a Hidden Spirituality about, and we’ll be sure to cover it soon! Peace out, and lots of love!

#spirituality #science #ascension #mystery school #spirit science

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dustedmagazine · 4 years

Text

Dust Volume 6, Number 8

Angel Olsen

Now half a year in the pandemic, we’re starting to see the emergence of quarantine records, whether in the trove of reissues hastily assembled to stand in for new product or home recorded projects made with extremely close friends and family or albums that are conceived and written around the concept of isolation. Music isn’t real life, exactly, but it lives nearby. And in any case, it’s still music and can be good or bad whether it’s been unearthed from a forgotten box of tapes, recorded at home without collaboration or side people or technologically gerry-rigged so that distanced partners can work together. So, as long as you all are making music, we will continue to listen and find records that move us, as the world burns all around. This edition’s contributors included Patrick Masterson, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Justin Cober-Lake and Ray Garraty. Enjoy.

+ — #playboy (Deluxe Edition) (self-released)

#playboy (deluxe edition) by +

One of the most genuinely confounding records I’ve heard this year comes courtesy SEO-unfriendly artist + aka Plus Sign fka Emanuel James Vinson, a Chicago rapper, city planner and all-around community activist who spends his time helping with the city’s Let’s Build Garden City initiative when he’s not making music (which is frequent, by the way — take a look at the breadth of that Bandcamp discography). The concept with #playboy, originally released in April but deluxed in late May, is simple: Two kids find a music machine called #playboy in their basement and start tinkering with it. Its childlike whimsy is conveyed in the song titles (“Getting the Hang of It,” “Wake Up Jam (Waking Up)”) every bit as much as it is in the music, with occasionally grating indulgences, the odd earworm and a brief appearance by borderless internet hip-hop hero Lil B that makes perfect sense in context; the kindred spirit of that community-building cult auteur is strong here. You may wind up loving this record or you may wind up hating it, but I can promise you this: You’ll be thinking about it and the artist behind it long after it’s over.

Patrick Masterson

Actress — Mad Voyage Mixtape (self-released)

I once suggested Darren Cunningham mucks about with his music because he can’t help himself. That was about six years ago on the occasion of his purported “final” album Untitled; with the benefit of hindsight, we can see he was (like so many others, to greater or lesser consequence) just pulling our leg with that PR. Hell, he’s released two albums worth of music in July alone: The first was the mid-month surprise LP 88, which follows in the vein of his acclaimed high period as an often brilliant, occasionally frustrating patchwork of submersible beats best played at high volume with a low end. The second came at the end of the month in an m4a file shared the old fashioned way on a forum via Mediafire link, nearly an hour and a half long, and per the man himself, “All SP-303, sketchbook beats, recorded this past week [the first week of July] straight to recorder or cassette.” It feels very much like a homespun Actress mixtape and is probably best thought of as livelier accompaniment to 88 but, even still, there’s no noticeable drop in quality — once Actress, always Actress. If headier lo-fi beat tapes are your beat, this will slot comfortably in line.

Patrick Masterson

bdrmm - Bedroom (Sonic Cathedral)

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Hull five-piece bdrmm play a satisfyingly crepuscular version of shoegaze on their debut album Bedroom. Ryan Smith, his brother Jordan on bass, guitarist Joe Vickers, Danny Hull on synths and drummer Luke Irvin combine the widescreen sound of Ride with a cloak of gothic post-punk. Like the late, lamented Girls Names, bdrmm find a sweet spot where atmosphere and dynamics either build to euphoric crescendos or bask in bleak funereal splendor. Bedroom seems deliberately sequenced from celebration to lament. “A Reason To Celebrate” evokes Ride at their most anthemic, the tripping staccato driven “Happy” summons the spirit of The Cure of Seventeen Seconds before the pace drops for the second half, the songs become quieter and darker as the band finds a more personal voice. “(The Silence)” is an ambient whispered wraith of a thing, “Forget The Credits” impressively mopey slowcore. bdrmm don’t always transcend their influences, but this debut is an atmospheric treat if your taste runs to the darker end of the musical buffet.

Andrew Forell

Circulatory System — Circulatory System (Elephant 6 Recording Co.)

Circulatory System by Circulatory System

Nearly 20 years after its initial release, the excellent eponymous debut album by Will Cullen Hart’s psychedelic chamber-pop band Circulatory System gets a long overdue vinyl reissue. While his previous project, the undeniably great Olivia Tremor Control, tended to lean more towards classic psych-pop’s traditional tropes — hard-panned drums, loads of disorientating tape effects, wonky harmonized vocals — Circulatory System taps into something utterly uncanny. Both Signal Morning (2009) and Mosaics Within Mosaics (2014) have their moments, but this is front-to-back brilliant, conjuring a sublime atmosphere of reflective estrangement. The music is a thick, grainy soup of shimmering instrumentation, from the eerie (“Joy,” “Now,” “Should a Cloud Replace a Compass?”) to the joyful (“Yesterday’s World,” “The Lovely Universe,” “Waves of Bark and Light”), but part of the album’s magic is the way everything flows into a seamless whole. As is vinyl’s tendency, the rhythm section really comes alive here, the fuzz bass and tom-heavy drum parts booming out, with plenty of vivid details in the mix swimming into view. A worthy reissue of an essential album.

Tim Clarke

Cloud Factory — #1 (Howlin’ Banana)

Cloud Factory #1 by Cloud Factory

Cloud Factory, from Toulouse, France, overlays the serrated edges of garage pop with a serene dream-pop drift. It’s an appealing mix of hard and soft, like being pummeled to death by pillows or threatened gunpoint by a teddy bear. “Amnesia,” for instance, erupts in a vicious, sawed off, trouble-making bass line, then soars from there in untroubled female vocals. Later, “No Data,” punches hard with raw percussion, then lays on a liquid, lucid guitar line that encourages middle-distance staring. None of these songs really up the ante with memorable melodies, sharp words or that intangible R’NR energy that distinguishes great punk rock from the so so. Not loud, not soft, not great, not bad. Cloud Factory resides in the indeterminant middle.

Jennifer Kelly

Entry — Detriment (Southern Lord)

Detriment by Entry

Nuthin fancy here, folks. Just eight songs — plus a flexing, fuzzing intro — of American hardcore punk. Entry has been grinding away for a few years now, and Detriment doesn’t advance much past the musical terrain the band marked off on the No Relief 7-inch (2016). That’s OK. The essential formula is time tested: d-beat rhythms, overdriven amps and Sara G.’s ferocious vocals delivering the necessary affect. That would be: pissed off, just this side of hopeless. Detriment sounds like what might happen if Poison Idea (c. 1988) stumbled into a seminar on Riot Grrrl; after everyone got tired of beating the living shit out of one another, they’d make some songs. “Selective Empathy” is pretty representative. Big riffs, a breakdown, and more than enough throaty yelling to let you know that you’re in some trouble. You might recognize the sound of Clayton Stevens’ guitar from his work with Touché Amoré — but maybe it’s better if you don’t. This isn’t music for mopery. Watch out for the spit, snot and blood, and flip the record.

Jonathan Shaw

Equiknoxx — VF Live: Equiknoxx (The Vinyl Factory)

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There’s nothing like a little roots music to get you through the sweltering summer heat, and this early July mix by Gavin “Gavsborg” Blair (half of forward-thinking Kingston dancehall unit Equiknoxx) was a personal favorite of the past month for hitting that spot. The group tends to throw curveballs at the genres it tinkers with, and Blair’s mix highlights why they’re so good at it: The crates run deep. Spanning everything from legendary producer and DJ Prince Jazzbo to in-house music fresh out the box (e.g., “Did Not Make This For Jah_9” was released in late May), Blair sets the mood and educates you along the way. Like everything else these cats do (and that includes the NTS show — support your independent radio station!), it’s hard not to give the highest recommendation.

Patrick Masterson

Ezra Feinberg — Recumbent Speech (Related States)

Recumbent Speech by Ezra Feinberg

Knowing that Ezra Feinberg is a practicing psychoanalyst, it’s tempting to read meaning into the name of his second solo album. But be careful to think twice about the meaning you perceive and ask yourself, is it the product of Feinberg on the couch or your own projection? His choice to name one of the record’s six instrumentals (there are voices, but no words) “Letter To My Mind” certainly suggests that there’s an internal dialogue at work, but the music feels most like a layered deployment of good ideas than an exchange of intrapsychic forces. The synthesizers shimmer and cycle like something from a mid-1970s Cluster record, resting upon a pillow of vibraphone and electric piano tones, which in turn billow under the influence of undulating layers of drums. Feinberg’s guitar leads are bright and pithy, like something Pat Metheny might come up with if he knew he was going to have to pay a steep price for every note he played. Ah, but there I go, projecting an implication of adversary process where there may be none. Might it be that Feinberg, having spent a full work week immersed in the psychic conflicts of others, wants to lay back on the couch and exhale? If so, this album is an apt companion.

Bill Meyer

Honey Radar — Sing the Snow Away: The Chunklet Years (Chunklet)

Sing the Snow Away: The Chunklet Years by Honey Radar

Jason Henn of Honey Radar has a solid claim at being his generation’s Bob Pollard, a prolific, absurdist songwriter, who tosses off hooky melodies as if channeling them from the spirit world. His least polished material glints with melody hidden beneath banks of fuzz, whispery and fragile on records, but surprisingly muscular in his rocking live shows. This 28-song compilation assembles the singles, splits, EPs and bonus tracks Henn recorded for Chunklet between 2015 and the present; it would be a daunting amount of material except that it goes down like cotton candy, sweet, airy, colorful and gone before you know it. Like the Kinks, Henn has a way of making strident rock and roll hooks sound wistful and dreamy. In “Lilac Pharmacy,” guitar lines rip and buck and roar, but from a distance, hardly disrupting Henn’s placid murmur. “Medium Mary Todd” ratchets up the tension a bit, with a tangled snarl of lick and swagger, but the vocals edge towards quiet whimsy a la Sic Alps; a second version runs a bit hotter, rougher and more electric, while a third, recorded at WFMU, gives an inkling of the Honey Radar concert experience. A couple of fine covers — of the Fall’s early rant “Middle Class Revolt” and of the Monkees rarity “Wind-Up Man”— suggest the fine, loamy soil that Henn’s art grows out of, while alternate versions of half a dozen tracks hint at the various forms his ideas can take. It’s a wonderful overview of Honey Radar so far, though let’s hope it’s not a career retrospective. Henn has a bunch of records left to make yet if he wants to edge out Pollard.

Jennifer Kelly

Iron Wigs — Your Birthday’s Cancelled (Mello Music Group)

Your Birthday's Cancelled by IRON WIGS

As an adjective, “goofy” had gotten a bad rep in hip hop. Anything that is unusual, inventive and not in line with “keeping it real” is immediately stigmatized as goofy, weird, nerdy and bad. Iron Wigs is goofy but hold the pejorative connotations. Chicago representatives Vic Spencer and Verbal Kent team up here with Sonnyjim from the UK to do some wild rhyming. They collaborated before, but Your Birthday’s Cancelled is a complete, fully fleshed project, masterfully executed from start to finish. Instead of the usual gun busting you get a fist in the ribs. Instead of drug slinging, a blunt to activate your rhymes. Each member of the group has a distinctive delivery which makes you to listen carefully for every verse, no skipping. It’s a relief to listen to rap artists who don’t pretend they’re out in the streets while they’re at home enjoying a favorite TV series. The standout track here is “Bally Animals & Rugbys” with Roc Marciano dropping by for a verse.

Ray Garraty

Levinson / Mahlmeister — Shores (Trouble In Mind)

Shores by levinson / mahlmeister

Jamie Levinson and Donny Mahlmeister’s Bandcamp page indicates that they’re based in Oak Park, a suburb of Chicago. This goes further towards explaining their association with Trouble in Mind Records, which is located in the same county, than their music, which brings to mind something much further north. The duo’s music is mostly electronic, with modular synthesizers setting the pulse and sweeping the pitch spectrum while lap steel guitar adds flourishes and a shruti box thickens the textures. The album is split into two, with each track — one is named “Ascend,” the other “Release” — taking up one side of a 50-minute cassette. The first side trundles steadily onwards, and the second seems to bask in a glow to that never totally fades. Since there’s no “Descend,” it’s easy to imagine this music sound tracking a drive into the Canadian north, the journey unspooling under a sky that never darkens, its progress towards Hudson Bay unhindered by other traffic or turns in the road. Perhaps that’s just one listener’s fantasy of easy social distancing and escape from the present’s grim digital glare into a retro-futurist, analog dream. But in dreams we’re free to fly without being seated next to some knucklehead with his mask over his eyes instead of his mouth, so dream on, dreamers. This tape is volume one of the Explorers Series, Trouble in Mind’s projected program of limited edition cassette releases.

Bill Meyer

Klara Lewis — Ingrid (Editions Mego)

Klara Lewis’s latest recording shows a narrowing of focus. Previously she seemed to be trying ideas and methods on for size, investigating ambient electronics or hinting at pop melody without completely committing. Given the approach to music modeled by her father, Graham Lewis of Wire and Dome, she probably does not feel the need to do just one thing, and that’s a healthy angle if one wants to stay interested and flexible. But there’s also something to be said for really digging into an idea, and that’s what she has done here. Ingrid is a one-track, one-sided 12.” Burrowing further into one-ness, it is made from one looped cello phrase, which gets filtered and distorted on each pass. The effect suggests decay, but not so much the gradual transformation of a William Basinski piece as the pitiless abrasion of a woodworker going over a plank with sander. The combination of repetition and coarsening hits a spot closer to one that Tony Conrad might reach, and that’s an itch worth scratching.

Bill Meyer

Luis Lopes Humanization 4tet — Believe, Believe (Clean Feed)

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The cruel economics of contemporary creative music-making favor an ensemble like Humanization 4tet. At a minimum, the filial Texan rhythm section of Stefan and Aaron Gonzalez (drums and bass respectively) and Lisbon-based duo of Rodrigo Amado (tenor saxophone) and Luís Lopes can each count on having the other half of a band on the other side of the Atlantic. But any project that’s on its fourth record in a dozen years has more going for it than the chance to save on plane tickets. For the Portuguese musicians, it’s an opportunity to feel an unabashedly high-energy force at their backs, as well as a chance to drink from a deep well of harmolodic blues. And for the Gonzalez brothers, it’s the reward of being the absolute right guys for the job; it has to be a gas to know that the heft they put into their swing is so deeply appreciated. While Lopes’ name remains up front, everyone contributes compositions, and everyone gives their all on every tune.

Bill Meyer

Joanna Mattrey — Veiled (Relative Pitch)

Veiled by Joanna Mattrey

This solo CD, which closely follows a collaborative cassette on Astral Spirits, is only the second recording with Joanna Mattrey’s name on the spine. But Mattrey is no newcomer. The New England Conservatory-trained violist has been playing straight and pop gigs for a while. If you caught Chance the Rapper on Saturday Night Live, Cuddle Magic with strings or a host of classical gigs around New York City, you’ve seen her. But if black dress and heels gigs pay her bills, improvised music nourishes her heart. And if sounds raw enough to scrape the roof of the world nourish yours, this album is new food. The premise of Veiled is finding veins of concealed beauty concealed, and that search impels Mattrey to tune her viola to sound like a horse-haired Tuvan fiddle, clamp objects to the strings and blast her signal through some satisfyingly filthy amplification. And whether it’s a slender tune or a complex texture, the reward is always there.

Bill Meyer

Angel Olsen — “Whole New Mess” single (Jagjaguwar)

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Everyone processes a breakup differently (though, to be fair, that’s probably less true now than ever). For Angel Olsen in 2018, it meant retreating to The Unknown, a century-old church in Anacortes, Washington, that Mount Eerie’s Phil Elverum and producer Nicholas Wilbur made into a recording studio. What ultimately came from those sessions was All Mirrors, but Whole New Mess is a chance to revisit that album (fully nine of these 11 songs are ones you’ve heard before; only the title-track and “Waving, Smiling” are new) in a more intimate framework — just Angel, a guitar, a mic and her reverberant heartache. The most cynical view to be taken here is that it’s a stopgap capitalizing on people’s vulnerability amid a pandemic quarantine, but it could also be a corrective for the bloat of All Mirrors, a record I listened to once and haven’t thought about since. Late Björkian excess doesn’t suit her nearly as well as the light touch delivered herein, and your interest will similarly hinge on how much Whole New Mess sounds like the old one.

Patrick Masterson

Ono — Red Summer (American Dreams)

Red Summer by ONO

Ono, the long-running noise-punk-poetry-protest project headed by P Michael Grego and travis, tackles the Red Summer of 1919, evoking the brutal race riots that erupted as soldiers returned from World War I. During that summer, conflicts raged from Chicago to the deep south, as white supremacists rioted against newly empowered returning Black veterans and an increased number of Black factory workers employed in America’s northern factories. Ono captures the violence—and its links to contemporary race-based conflicts—in an abstract and visionary style, with travis declaiming against an agitated froth of avant garde sound. “A Dream of Sodomy” lurches and rolls in funk-punk bravado, as travis declaims all the nightmarish scenarios that haunt his nocturnal hours, while “Coon” natters rhythmically across a fever-lit foundation of hand-drums, mosquito buzz and flute. “26 June 1919” wanders through a blasted, rioting landscape, sounds buzzing and pinging and roaring around travis’ fractured poetry. “White men, red men, Manchester town, send ‘em home, Oklahoma, send ‘em home, in a Black man house, send ‘em home, send ‘em home,” he chants, ominously, vertiginously. The center isn’t holding, for sure. The disc closes with the uneasy truce of “Sycamore Trees,” where steam blasts of synthesizer sound rush up and around travis’ vibrating, basso verses about meeting under the sycamore trees, a metaphor like the blues and gospel and nearly all Black music is full of metaphor about reuniting in a better place. Powerful.

Jennifer Kelly

Julian Taylor — The Ridge (Howling Turtle, Inc.)

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Singer-songwriter Julian Taylor does the little things well. That's not to say that he doesn't do the obvious things well, too, on his latest release The Ridge. His easy voice fits his songs, letting autobiography come with comfortable phrasing. As a writer, he tends toward the straightforward, avoiding extended metaphors or oblique references. The title track considers a particular form of life, and Taylor sticks to the tangible, singing about the stable, “Shovel manure, clean their beds, and prepare the feed for the day.” Taylor's songs make sense of the immediate world and relationships around him, but they avoid woolgathering. The album feels a bit removed from the current climate, but that's no complaint when Taylor's developed a welcoming place to visit. It isn't always easy here, but it's always companionable.

But back to those little things. Each song has carefully detailed orchestration and production. The record goes down easy whether tending toward James Taylor, Cat Stevens or something closer to country, and much of that easiness comes from the precise placement of every note. Burke Carroll's pedal steel, for instance, never exists for its own sake, but to serve the lyric that Taylor sings. The album contains enough space to feel like a rural Canadian ridge, with details drawn into to support Taylor's direct stories. The Ridge could easily go unnoticed (unobtrusiveness not being a highly rewarded trait), but its subtlety and care make it worth taking your boots off and sitting down for a minute.

Justin Cober-Lake

Various Artists — For a Better Tomorrow (Garden Portal)

For A Better Tomorrow by Various Artists

Compilation albums loom large in the American Primitive Guitar realm. Takoma, Tompkins Square and Locust all had larger ambitions than merely offering a sampling of wares, and to them, Garden Portal says, “hold my beer. I’ve got some collecting and playing to do.” For A Better Tomorrow started out as a Bernie Sanders fundraising endeavor. But when Bernie bailed and COVID-19 came on the scene, Garden Portal pivoted to support Athens Mutual Aid Network, an umbrella organization that coordinates aid to the underserved in this trying time. But in addition to good works, there’s some good work going on here. Not all of it is guitar-centric, but even the tracks that aren’t are close enough to the strings and heart template of the aforementioned parties to merit consideration under the same rubric. Joseph Allred’s been ultra-productive recently, so it’s actually helpful to be reminded of the spirit that infuses his playing by listening to it one track at a time. Rob Noyes’ “Diminished” takes the listener on a deep dive into the construction of sentiment and sound. And Will Csorba’s Pelt-like blast of fiddle drone, “Requiem for Ociel Guadalupe Martinez,” will put your hair up high enough to make that self-inflicted quarantine do a bit easier to execute.

Bill Meyer

Various Artists — The Storehouse Presents (The Storehouse)

The Storehouse Presents by The Storehouse

The coronavirus pandemic put the brakes on many things. You doubtless have your own list of loss, but for the proprietors of The Storehouse, the catalog of things kissed goodbye directly corresponds to their endeavor’s inventory of reasons to be. Over the past few years, the Storehouse has invited audiences out to a West Michigan farmhouse to enjoy a potluck meal and a concert played by some musicians of note. If there had been no lockdown, listeners could have enjoyed the Sun Ra Arkestra last April. Instead, no one’s playing, and no one’s getting paid, so the Storehouse has compiled this set of live and exclusive studio tracks to sell on Bandcamp in order to benefit the musicians and the Music Maker Relief Foundation. The cause, is good, but so are the tunes. Want to hear Steve Gunn and William Tyler in sympathetic orbit? Or Joan Shelley pledging her love? Or the first hints of Mind Over Mirrors’ new direction? Step right this way, preferably on one of 2020’s first Fridays.

Bill Meyer

Z-Ro — Rohammad Ali (1 Deep Entertainment / Empire)

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On one of his previous tracks, Z-Ro admitted that he’s basically just writing the same song over and over again (that’s how meta he is now, writing songs on writing songs). While he exaggerated a bit, he was not that far from the truth. In the last half dozen years he’s been writing the same three or four songs in various combinations, reconfigurations and forms. Rohammad Ali follows the same template: haters hate him, but he’s OK and is counting his money. Multiply this by 17, and here is the album. Despite this self-cannibalizing (lots of poets did that), Z-Ro with every new album sounds fresh and far from tired. The self-repeats just fuel him. Rohammad Ali has only one rap guest, and it’s Shaquille O’Neal whose rap career didn’t jump off in the 1990s. A lack of guests only proves that Z-Ro can self-sustain without support from the outside. The only thing from the outside he needs is hate.

Ray Garraty

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