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meta-squash · 3 years

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Brick Club 2.3.8 “Inconveniences Of Entertaining A Poor Man Who May Be Rich”

This chapter is so long. Here goes.

Is it normal for Cosette to have to knock to get into the house she lives in? Or is Hugo just using that as a vehicle to make Mme Thenardier meet Valjean first?

It’s times like this that I desperately wish I knew more about biblical stories and fables and things. This, a rich man in disguise as a poor man being treated poorly by innkeepers and taking something from them, sounds like a bible story or a similar type of fable. But the only two bible stories I know with similar themes are the nativity story and Sodom and Gomorrah and neither of those seem quite right. Still, this entire episode reads like a fable or fairytale.

We’ve already seen how Evil the Thenardiers are re: their treatment of Cosette. Now we are seeing their Evil in the form of treatment of the poor.

You know, that’s an interesting thing that I’m not going to get into in this longass chapter. Javert’s evil and Thenardier’s evil are different because I feel like Javert’s evil is a lot more muddied or obscured by morality and duty and things like that. Where are the Thenardiers are bad but the badness of their actions is much more black and white. I think it’s also because, technically, they never have social power over anyone unless they are manipulative, whereas Javert always has the social power. I’m not sure where to go with either of these ideas but I will look back on it for a shorter chapter.

Cosette is ugly because she’s sad. It’s like the exact opposite of Roald Dahl’s description of ugliness. I called it on the orphanage thing and kids looking years younger than they are; she looks 6 when she’s 8. That doesn’t seem like a huge difference when you look at it written down but the difference between the size and maturity of a 6 year old vs an 8 year old is surprising.

In the way that the description of the doll was a distant echo of young Fantine, the description of Cosette here is a faded echo of dying Fantine.

“Fear was spread all over here; she was, so to speak, covered with it; fear squeezed her elbows against her sides, drew her heels up under her skirt, made her shrink into the least possible space...” I’m sure this description comes from Hugo observing children in his lifetime, but I also wonder if any of this comes from his brother who had schizophrenia and was institutionalized?

“The expression on the face of this child of eight was habitually so sad and occasionally so tragic that it seemed, at certain moments, as if she were on the way to becoming an idiot or a demon.” What an interesting pair of choices. Fear and sadness either stun and numb you completely or they turn you aggressive and evil. Hugo said the same thing before when talking about Valjean’s prison time. Again, like I said before, Cosette here is Valjean when we first met him: exhausted, scared, sad, numb, hatefully terrified of the people around her; the difference is that she still has hope. She had that moment of hoping someone would rescue her, she had the moment of pausing and wondering what the doll’s paradise was like; when we met Valjean he was past that kind of hope.

(Funny that Mme Thenardier doesn’t suspect the trick Valjean just pulled, despite Valjean “finding” a 20 sous piece instead of 15 sous piece.)

I love the description of Eponine and Azelma because it’s so innocent. They as little human beings aren’t morally bankrupt at the level of their parents yet. They’re still pretty and glowing. Partly because they are well-cared for unlike Cosette, and partly because they are still innocent.

“Eponine and Azelma did not notice Cosette. To them she was like the dog. The three little girls did not have twenty-four years among them, and they already represented the whole of human society: on one side envy, on the other disdain.”

Ah, human microcosms. Hugo loves those. The Thenardier children and Cosette are the pared down, simplified version of society. It’s also an excellent example of how Privilege works in layers. The girls’ doll is worn and old and broken, but the fact of them having a real doll and Cosette having nothing is already a layer of privilege Someone else, another little girl with wealthy parents and a new intact doll would have privilege over the Thenardier girls. There are layers.

I really love this passage too because it shows the start of the zero-sum game between Eponine and Cosette. At no point are Eponine and Cosette able to be equals. But the important thing is that neither of them are aware of this. Later, when Cosette and Eponine encounter each other again in the Gorbeau house, Eponine doesn’t have the awareness to be angry about the reversal of their fortunes. She seems sad, mostly, a jealousy born from a feeling of worthlessness rather than feeling slighted. And Cosette doesn’t even recognize Eponine, so there’s no room at all for disdain on her part, unless she’s disdainful of Eponine et al due to their poverty, though that never seems to be the case. But Eponine cannot be happy while Cosette is and Cosette cannot be happy while Eponine is, because their goals occupy the same fulcrum (Marius) and they can’t both be on the same level at the same time.

Fanfiction has explored this a lot in modern AU but I wonder the kind of havoc that could have been wreaked had Cosette and Eponine met and become proper acquaintances. Their teenage personalities are two sides of the same coin. I’ve always been of the opinion that had they switched places as children Cosette would have ended up like Eponine and Eponine like Cosette. Because Eponine has the capacity for kindness within her, except that she doesn’t know how to use it selflessly; and Cosette has the same stubborn ruthlessness as Eponine, except that she is held back by convention and reduced to talking a lot in order to try and somehow glean information from Valjean or Marius.

“Now your work belongs to me. Play, my child.” This is the second (or third?) Myriel moment for Valjean. Cosette is a child, an innocent child, but her soul doesn’t need to be bought for god. As far as I can tell, for Hugo, children are always holy. Instead, he’s buying her work. But that makes sense. For Valjean, his soul needed to be bought for god because he had already lost it to sin and to evil and to doubt. Cosette still has hope; what she needs bought from her is suffering.

And here is where the parallel continues. Cosette up until now has been Valjean as we first met him: sullen, suffering, scared, dulled, close to becoming “an idiot or a demon” and now, like Valjean’s soul, her work has been bought so she can be free.

I think it is within the walls of the convent that their parallels will catch up to each other and they will become more equal.

I feel as though the cat in a dress vs the sword in a dress must be some sort of parallel to Eponine and Cosette’s personalities but I’m not quite sure how to pull the meaning out.

“A little girl without a doll is almost as unfortunate and just as impossible as a woman without children.” Ugh. Gross, Hugo. This whole chapter was so lovely and then this misogynist bullshit.

I can explain the “water on her brain” line! Mostly because it’s a medical condition I actually have! So, “water on the brain” is another term for hydrocephalus, which is a buildup of cerebrospinal fluid in the ventricles of the brain. It can be caused by being born prematurely (like mine was) or by infections/head trauma. Nowadays they can put a shunt in your head that pumps the fluid into the abdominal cavity (which is what I have), but obviously they didn’t have the technology back then. So what happens to the head if the fluid doesn’t drain, is the head will start to increase in size, and the fluid buildup will squish the brain against the sides of the skull, causing seizures and brain damage/intellectual disabilities and vision problems and other such things. I function perfectly fine except for mild dyscalculia and ADHD (which might have been genetic anyway) but back in the 19th century hydrocephalus probably would have resulted in either mild-to-severe disabilities or death.

Cosette doesn’t have hydrocephalus, but what she does have is severe malnutrition, which can make a person’s head look much too large for their body. So Mme Thenardier is likely using Cosette’s appearance due to neglect to fake that she has a neurological problem and explain why they have to “take care of” her.

Jesus fucking christ this next bit is so much. There’s so much going on. Mme Thenardier is talking to Valjean about Cosette’s mother, the drinkers are singing vulgar songs about the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, and Cosette is under the table singing “My mother is dead.” to herself. Woof. It is, yet again, an instance of the memory of “Fantine” (in the symbolic, saintly form of the Virgin) being sullied both by the foul songs of the drinkers and the callous, flippant commentary of Mme Thenardier. And Cosette is there under the table, staring at the fire, suddenly playing the role of her own mother, rocking the sword-baby (herself) to try and comfort herself from the shock of this new knowledge that her mother is dead.

(Anyone else read As I Laying Dying, by the way? All I could think of when I read that line was “My mother is a fish.”)

We start to see Cosette’s bold personality come out in fits and starts. She’s brave enough to sneak out and grab the doll Eponine and Azelma have abandoned. But it’s also an example of how desperate she is for something pleasurable and good, considering she’s doing that at the risk of a beating.

For the second time, we see Cosette so absorbed in her moment of “I Want” that she doesn’t see or hear anything else. Again, this seems unusual considering her constant hypervigilance. But her success in getting the doll and her increased confidence due to Valjean’s presence probably have something to do with her lack of awareness.

Cosette is caught with the doll. Is this the parallel of Valjean being caught with Myriel’s silver? Mme Thenardier says “That beggar has dared to touch the children’s doll.” The gendarmes don’t say as much when they return Valjean to Myriel, but it’s pretty obvious they’re thinking something similar.

“We are forced to add that at that moment she stuck out her tongue.” COSETTE IS SO CUTE I LOVE HER SO MUCH SHE DESERVES THE WORLD. Also I just love the way Hugo writes children, it’s so real.

Why did Hugo choose Catherine for the name of the doll? Is it to do with St Catherine? She (the saint) became Christian at 14 and converted hundreds of people before being martyred at 18 after rebuking the Roman emperor for his cruelty and winning a debate with his best philosophers.

“This solitary man, so poorly dressed, who took five-franc pieces from his pocket so easily and lavished gigantic dolls on little brats in wooden clogs, was certainly a magnificent and formidable individual.” Valjean is now Myriel. Outsiders are fascinated by him because he dresses so shabbily and yet is so benevolent and charitable with his money. Again, the difference is that Myriel’s name is always known, and Valjean’s is never known.

I know I say this so often but the distance with which Hugo treats Valjean is absolutely fascinating to me. Valjean has this incredible power to just go inside himself and not move, but we never get that kind if internality unless it’s really really important (like with the Champmathieu affair). Otherwise, Hugo keeps a respectful distance, and even when we get Valjean’s emotions described to us, I feel like Hugo is always holding back a little, like he’s not letting himself see all the way into Valjean, or Valjean isn’t letting him in.

Valjean asks for a stable; I think this is the first time we see his whole thing about sacrifice of physical comfort. Things like this asking for the stable and sleeping in the shed behind the house at Rue Plumet and not having chairs and only eating black bread etc. This is the first example we see of him feeling unworthy of physical comforts to such a degree.

(It’s interesting to me that we don’t see this characteristic when he was mayor, or at least not to this extreme. Is it because it would be unbecoming of a mayor and therefore would blow his cover? Or did going back to prison hammer in that feeling of worthlessness and lesser-than and warp his perception of what he is compared to others?)

“What a sublime, sweet thing is hope in a child who has never known anything but its opposite!” We’ve said this already, but Cosette is full of hope and life and light and that is Important because it is exactly what Valjean did not have when he was in her position. But it means that she doesn’t have to work as hard in her ascent towards happiness and goodness.

And, lastly, I love that the placement of the gold Louis in Cosette’s shoe isn’t just a sweet Christmas gesture or a gesture towards Cosette: it’s also an echo of M Madeleine breaking into houses to place gold pieces on the table.

Wow. Long af post for a long af chapter. Congratulations if you read through all of my rambling thoughts.

#les miserables meta #les miserables #brickclub #lm 2.3.8 #les mis #les mis meta #doing this chapter melted my brain a little

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tumbledfreckles · 4 years

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Fitting In

Jilytober Day 13 Prompt from @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world: Flying Lessons on AO3

James had realised recently that when Lily often said she was going to the library to study after supper, Sirius often disappeared. Not unusual in and of itself, but the face he always made sure to take the map with him was. That it seemed to only be the evenings that Lily went to the library also strange.

With time on his hands, and no mates to speak of that evening, Peter on a date, Remus unwell, James decided to investigate. First up was the obvious inspection of the library. He checked all the normal places, the Charms stacks, the dusty Potions corner, the hidey-hole near Herbology where Lily often hid when she didn’t want any of the younger students she tutored to find her in the aforementioned locations. Nothing.

Searches of the Potions labs, the kitchens, the Room of Requirement (Merlin, who even knew Gideon Prewitt was getting it on with William Terry anyway?) revealed neither his girlfriend nor his best mate. James trudged up the Astronomy Tower, hoping it was still too early and too light to run into any more couples with nefarious intentions.

It was, quite thank fully, empty as James completed a circuit around the exposed outside path. He looked out across the grounds, ticking off locations. Where the devil are they? He wondered. He turned to go back down the tower, when a shout and movement caught his eye.

Two figures seemed to be moving slowly around the Quidditch Pitch, barely a foot above the stands. If it hadn’t been for the shout, James would never have noticed them. The two brooms were extremely close together and one appeared to a bit shaky. He frowned, mentally consulting the Pitch schedule. No one had the Pitch booked tonight for practise, he was pretty certain. And there didn’t seem to be anyone else with the pair, let alone a whole team of players.

James headed down the Astronomy Tower, still frowning, his brain ticking over. The light had been too faded as night approached to see any colour in their hair, and it was too far to see what House the students had been in.

Still, with time of his hands and an ongoing distinct lack of mates, James decided he’d go for wander down to the Pitch and see who was there. It wouldn’t be Sirius and Lily, given Lily didn’t fly, but curfew was approaching, and he could at least pretend to be Head Boy. Lily would be pleased whenever she did emerge from her hidden location.

By the time he got down there, it was almost dark, but he could see that the two students were now on the same broom, doing lazy loops around the pitch. One was clearly female with long flowing hair and he guessed by the build of the other, a male. It wasn’t until he heard their voices that he recognised the flyers.

“I swear to Merlin if you do another bloody loopy thing.”

“Just relax and enjoy it. Maybe try and open your eyes.”

“I will if you just bloody fly straight.”

“Where’s the fun in that though, Evans?”

“The fun’s in living, Sirius.”

“Reckon we can go a bit faster?”

“This is fast enouuuggghhhhh. Siiirrriiiusss!”

James could hear Sirius laughing hysterically as they accelerated to what he could only really call a medium pace around the hoops at the far end of the pitch.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Prongs would kill me.”

“I’ll bloody kill you in a minute. Take me down!”

“As the lady commands.”

Lily shrieked again almost immediately as Sirius took them in several loops on his way down to the pitch. As they came toward the ground he could see Sirius was holding the broom with one hand while his other hand was clasped over Lily’s two hands on his stomach, her arms tightly encircling his waist. Lily’s face was pressed firmly into Sirius’ back and James guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.

“Honestly, Sirius, I will murder you,” James could hear Lily threatening as he moved further onto the pitch.

“Open your bloody eyes Evans, we’re on the ground,” Sirius smirked back at her, tapping his hand on top of hers comfortingly.

Lily opened her eyes, looking down at the ground before stretching her feet down towards the ground. “Oh,” she exclaimed, quickly swinging one leg over the broom to hop off. As she did so she cuffed Sirius on the back of the head, “Jerk.”

“Oi, watch it,” Sirius rubbed at his head and tried to smooth down his hair. “And I think the words you’re looking for are, actually, thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” James stepped forward from the shadows.

Lily jumped visibly and looked strangely nervous as Sirius turned around, “Prongs!” he greeted happily, a far cry from Lily’s obvious discomfort. “What brings you out this way?”

“Saw some people on the pitch. Thought I’d come see who was out so close to curfew. Didn’t expect to find you two here,” James shrugged, but knew his tone didn’t quite sound casual enough.

“I reckon I’ll let you take this one,” Sirius muttered to Lily, moving past her.

She tried to jab him in the side as he went, “Thanks a bunch.”

“Now you’re getting it, Evans,” he laughed as he jumped out of the way. “You’re most welcome, you ungrateful cretin.” Sirius continued walking, clapping his hand on James’ shoulder as he went past him. “Go easy on her, mate.”

James turned and watched Sirius head out of the Pitch back toward the castle. He turned back toward Lily, “Thanks for what? Why do I need to go easy on you?”

“I’m impressed with your Head Boy attentions,” Lily tried to deflect, nodding approvingly. “I must be rubbing off on you.”

“Don’t even try it,” he frowned again. “What’s going on?”

Lily muttered something, looking down at the ground as she stubbed her toe into the grass, kicking up a small clump of the pitch.

“What was that, sorry?” James stepped closer toward her.

Lily muttered again, but James was a bit closer and managed to catch the last word. Lessons.

“Sirius is giving you lessons?” He tilted his head to the side. “Flying lessons?” Lily nodded and James tried not to feel hurt. “Why didn’t you ask me for flying lessons?”

Lily gave him a pained expression, “It was meant to be a surprise.”

“A surprise?” James frowned. “For what?”

“The bloody Potter Easter Quidditch Tournament,” Lily burst out. “Sirius was telling me all about it, how even your Mum plays in it. And I’m coming home with you for Easter, I didn’t want to be the only one who wasn’t playing.”

“Oh,” James looked a bit shocked. “So, you asked Sirius to teach you?”

“I wanted to surprise you and fly well and make you really proud of me. And to make sure your parents like,” Lily explained, biting her lip. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

James had never felt more like he was going to melt into a small puddle at the sweetness this girl showed him. He took several more steps forward until he could reach out and grasp her hips, pulling him to her. Lily’s eyes were still downcast, her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, so James used one finger to tilt her chin up toward him before stroking her cheek softly.

“Lily, my parents will love you. Probably more than they love me. And Sirius. But mostly me. You don’t have to learn to fly for that to happen. And I’m always proud of you, proud that you’re my girlfriend,” he assured her.

She shook her head, “But I want to fit in. I want to be part of it.”

“You could keep score. Use your wit to entertain everyone with commentary,” he offered.

“I want to fly,” Lily argued. Her arms came up to loop around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape. “What a sad Gryffindor if I can’t face my fear of heights and learn.”

“Then I’ll teach you,” James smiled, pulling her even closer.

“Mmmm,” Lily hummed as she pushed up on her toes. “I think you might be a distraction.”

James’ hand buried in her hair as his lips dropped to her temple for a soft kiss, “How so?”

“Well, I’ll probably try to do this while your teaching me,” she pressed her own kiss in the crook of his neck, “And this,” a kiss on his jaw, “And this,” she planted her lips firmly on James’.

James wasn’t sure she’d made her point as he happily responded to the kiss. This was probably the type of lesson he could finally get behind.

#jilytober #jilytober2020 #jily fluff #sirius black #lily evans #james potter #lily and sirius were besties and you can't tell me otherwise #they would have been siblings that loved to tease #you cant tell me otherwise

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asthmark · 4 years

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❝ among the stars ❞ l.mk

synopsis → “Would you be willing to give me the amulet, my prince? Or will I have to rip it off you?”

word count → 6.9k

a/n → when i say i cannot believe i did this i MEAN THAT like i started this in FEBRUARY and here we are, wow! ok on a real note i’m not proofreading because, like always, it is 4 in the morning and i want to get 3 hours of sleep at the very least D: anyway i’ll rest well knowing this is done so plz enjoy!

“Do you ever get tired of looking for a treasure that could be fake for all we know? ‘Cause I sure do.”

“Quiet.”

You slouch down in your seat. “So mean, captain.”

Taeyong turns to glare at you, hoping it’ll get rid of the smirk on your face. “This mission is hard enough on its own, your commentary doesn’t make it any easier.”

You roll your eyes. “Would you rather we just sit here in complete silence ‘til we find the… gem or jewel or whatever it is?”

“It’s an amulet,” Taeyong corrects. “And yes, definitely.”

“Would you two knock it off?” says Jaehyun from the passenger’s seat.

“I say let them go at it,” Yuta murmurs, staring out the window, into the vast galaxy.

Jaehyun raises a brow. “Is watching your teammates argue amusing to you?”

Yuta shrugs. ‘We’re in the middle of space, what else is going to entertain me?”

You see Taeyong's grip on the steering wheel tighten. He was serious about this mission. His team? Not so much. The only person who seemed to back him up on everything was Jaehyun but that was given seeing how he was his second in command.

“Yuta.” Jaehyun's tone could rival a disappointed mother’s. “Could you at least try and be a little professional?”

The redhead scoffs. “There's nothing professional about this team. We’re a bunch of criminals.”

That was true. You all had bounties over your heads, a consequence for having committed countless crimes all over the galaxy. Taeyong was probably the one that was most serious about what he did, always doing things with vigor and determination, no matter how illegal it was. Jaehyun was the same way although he was a little more detail-oriented, focusing on little things rather than the big picture. He always polished Taeyong’s plans to perfection. They made a great duo and, in fact, for a while it had just been the two of them. Then they realized they needed a team to be able to execute their ambitious plans.

That’s where the rest of you came in.

They had told you they found Johnny first. That was no surprise. He was tall and muscular, impossible to miss. If Taeyong and Jaehyun were the brains, he was definitely the brawn. When they had first met, Johnny was doing nothing but getting in fights. He was always the bigger man, he always won. It seemed to give him a rush, defeating his opponent with ease. Taeyong and Jaehyun stroked his ego to no end, telling him he would be a perfect addition to the team they were forming. The praise was enough to convince him to join.

They found Yuta second but you were never told the full story. From what you had gathered, he had attempted to pickpocket Taeyong. You had no idea how that would've led to him joining the team but you found it incredibly hilarious. You assumed your relentless teasing was the reason why Taeyong wouldn’t tell you about it but it didn’t matter to you; everytime Yuta references it, you still laugh.

Lastly, there was you.

Meeting the boys was probably the most memorable thing that had happened to you. You still remember how Taeyong had wordlessly walked into the gas station—where you were working at the time—and held you at gunpoint with his face shielded only by a black ski mask. Before he could even demand you give him all the cash in the register, a dark blue haired male had rushed in. You can still remember the sequence of events like it was yesterday.

“Taeyong, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I thought I told you to stay on the ship, Jaehyun! And where’s your mask?”

Jaehyun ignores the second question. “I thought we had agreed to always form a plan before we steal something!”

Their argument is cut short by the bell on the door ringing as a tall, brunette male and a shorter bleach-blonde enter. You catch the way Taeyong sighs, “you have got to be kidding me” under his breath.

“Hey, Taeyong? Yuta and I were wondering if you could buy us some snacks.”

“Johnny and I have been on our best behavior so you owe us.”

“Jesus Christ.” Taeyong pinches the bridge of his nose over the fabric of the mask. “This is you on your best behavior? Interrupting my robbery for some snacks? The plan was I come in here, get the money, and you all thank me for being a good leader!”

“No wonder you need my help making plans, they're so unrealistic,” Jaehyun mutters.

Taeyong shoots him a glare. “Look, we’re running low on fuel, we barely even made it here. I thought if I acted fast I could just get the money and we'd be on our way.”

“Let’s just try that corner store a couple galaxies over. The guy behind the cash register is young. You think that kid will really say no to us?”

“That’s low.”

“Hasn't stopped us before.”

“I’m with Johnny. It'll be hilarious to see him pissing his pants the second Taeyong aims a gun at his head. Easy money.”

“You guys need serious help.”

“And yet you still hired us.”

“I’ll give you the money.”

Your statement ends the bickering between the four males. They stare at you in bewilderment and they’re stunned into silence as if they’re certain you’re pulling their legs. To prove yourself, you spin around and grab a brown paper bag that you usually used to put the customer’s liquor in and begin stuffing it full with all that was in the register.

You hear them whispering and mumbling but you just continue bagging the money as calmly as you would groceries. It takes only a couple seconds before the brown bag is overflowing with the pink bills that were only valid currency on the planet you were on. You wordlessly hand it to Taeyong.

He grabs it, holding it close to his chest and peering down at it, his eyes seeming to widen the longer it was in his arms. Jaehyun’s eyes darted between you and the bag like he was waiting for some sort of catch. Yuta and Johnny both cracked a smile, as if the unforeseen chain of events was comical to them.

“Happy?” you ask.

They all turn to you, the look in their eyes still skeptical but Taeyong, ever the leader, speaks for the team and gives you a nod.

“Good. Now I get to come with you.”

Johnny is the first to react, erupting into long and hard laughter. “Is that seriously what you want in return? To join a group of outlaws and run from the police?”

You give him a firm nod.

His laughter dies down. “Whatever you say. It’s your life, babe.”

You all watch as he walks out of the gas station, putting his shades on (despite it being pitch dark outside) and you’re sure he must feel like a million bucks knowing that you actually wanted to stick around them.

You turn back to the three others. Yuta grabs a handful of snacks from the shelf behind him, cradling the assortment of sweets, chips, and more. “Can I take these?”

You shrug. “Go for it.”

He smiles and you can't help but notice it’s healing aura. “Good to have you on the team.” He also makes way for the door.

You’re almost positive that his willingness to have you join their group came solely from you granting him permission to take the food.

Taeyong is the next to leave and he does it silently, offering you nothing but a small smile as he held the bag of money as tightly as he could and used the side of his arm to push the door open.

“Why do you want to come with us?”

You turn to Jaehyun. It was just you and him. By staying back he had once again proved to be the only one who truly thought things through.

“Believe it or not, robbing gas stations seems better than picking up another late shift for a lazy coworker on this dull planet. The thrill is a bonus.”

You catch a pair of dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Yeah, well with that thrill comes three idiots, myself excluded.”

“I’ll manage.”

“In that case, welcome to the crew.”

“It doesn’t matter that we’re criminals!” Jaehyun shouts, bringing your attention back to reality. “That doesn't mean you get to be a pain in my—”

“Hey!” All of a sudden, the door that leads into the cockpit slides open and Johnny’s head pops in. “I need a new toothbrush. Can we stop by a gas station or something?”

“Just use hers.” Yuta jabs his thumb in your direction. “Work’s for me.”

“Wait, what?” you ask, mouth agape. “You better be joking.”

He just shoots you a smile, displaying his pearly whites, as if to tease you. You whine and make a face that expresses all your disgust.

“Relax, I rinse it off when I’m done like, almost every time.”

“Almost?”

Taeyong speaks up before you can go off on Yuta. “Alright! Next stop, gas station!”

Your ship lands on a nearby planet and when you land, you can’t help but gaze out the window in awe, the luxurious ships and opulent buildings catching you off guard. Even the people that cruise down the streets—that practically shone and didn’t have a trace of litter—are draped in flashy clothing.

”We’re gonna look so out of place,” you grumble to yourself but Yuta’s ears pick up on the comment.

“Cheer up.” He points to the civilians below you. “Just think about how easy they’re gonna be to pickpocket.”

“No pickpocketing.”

A chorus of displeased groans fill the ship. You notice that even Jaehyun seems a little bummed out by Taeyong’s reprimand.

“We’re only here to get what we need. The amulet is our top priority, remember?”

Yuta unbuckles his seatbelt. “The amulet is your top priority. Mine is stealing some filthy rich dude’s fancy watch.”

“Well, just think about how much the amulet is worth. You’ll be able to have all the stupid watches in the world.”

“Yeah, once we find it.”

Johnny’s comment reminds each and every one of you of your current struggle—actually locating the amulet. It was undeniable that finding the treasure’s whereabouts had been your biggest obstacle so far. In fact, the idea of it being nonexistent had been tossed around, much to your captain’s displeasure. In fact, the only reason any of you had heard about this item was because of Taeyong.

According to his grandfather’s tales, it was so valuable that it could turn someone from rags to riches but the mystery of where it was prevented him from finding it himself. It was clear the amulet was something special to Taeyong and his dedication to attaining it was probably sparked by his grandfather’s own desire to do so and only fueled by his death.

He was always on the hunt for it, resulting in the rest of you doing the same, even if you didn’t match his vigor. You scoured the galaxies in pursuit of it but Taeyong’s determination never once faltered.

“Just get in and get out,” Jaehyun commands, siding with Taeyong, as per usual. “We’ll stay here with the ship.”

“Are you afraid someone’s gonna steal it?” Johnny teases, standing from his seat. “Because I wouldn’t worry about it.”

You snicker. “What a polite way to say it’s a hunk of junk.”

“Might I remind you that someone begged to be on this,” Taeyong makes sure to make in-air quotes, “hunk of junk.”

“She was so innocent and naive back then,” sighs Jaehyun, hand placed dramatically over his chest. “What happened?”

“You guys did. Practically drove me into insanity.”

“I’m sure you would’ve gotten there yourself,” counters Johnny.

You can’t seem to argue with that so you simply shrug. “Probably.”

“Get a move on, you guys.” Taeyong stretches his limbs out as far as they can go and then comfortably places his hands behind his head with a yawn. You had never thought about how tiring piloting the ship was for him. “We’ll be waiting.”

With that, you, Johnny, and Yuta exit the ship, receiving some of the nastiest looks you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing as soon as you step foot on the planet.

“What’s with all the staring?” you mutter as you make eye contact with a seemingly disgusted woman dressed in gold from head to toe. “You would think that with all that money they could pay for some good manners.”

Johnny agrees only mumbling, “If looks could kill.”

Yuta lets out a frustrated sigh. “All I want is something expensive. I’ll even take a ring at this point, I don’t care. How am I even supposed to get my hands on anything when everyone is too scared to get within five feet of us?”

“Guess we don’t meet their standards.”

“Having that amulet would come in handy right about now,” you comment.

Johnny snorts. “Oh. Right. The prized amulet.”

“You mean the one that only exists in grandpa’s head?”

“Say that Taeyong’s face, Yuta, I dare you.”

“No thanks. I might be stupid but I’m not an idiot. I know he’d knock me out cold.”

Johnny shakes his head. “He’s so set on finding it. I still remember the day he finally brought it up to all of us. There was this fire in his eyes. He seemed so determined that I would’ve followed him across galaxies to get the stupid thing.”

Yuta chuckles. “We all did. But it’s been, what? A year now? Seems kind of impossible at this point.”

“I wish we’d just go back to doing all the fun crimes that he and Jae would come up with when we first met. Remember those?”

You can’t help but smile at the memories, remembering the feeling of adrenaline racing through your veins as you continue listening to Johnny and Yuta talk.

“Yeah. Those were the good days. Now our lives are just a huge wild goose chase.”

“We’re here,” you announce, steering the conversation away from your misfortunes.

The three of you peer at the building before you, its windows are shiny and from the glimpse you catch of the inside, everything is stocked up and organized. The sign above it reads ‘Purveyor’ in bold letters.

“This is the closest thing they have to a gas station?” Yuta asks, mouth agape.

You nod. “I think so.”

“I don't wanna go in. Nice things scare me.”

You ignore Johnny and take the first step forward. The cashier glances up from counting money when the bell on the door rings, alerting him of your presence. He almost drops the currency when he gets a good look at you. Although, he doesn’t seem judgy. In fact, he seems more in awe with you than anything else.

You stuff your hands into your cargo pants as you awkwardly walk past him and roam the store. You hear the door open and soon enough Yuta joins you as you skim the shelves, grabbing the necessary items.

“Pick your toothbrush,” you tell him as you grab one for yourself. You had immediately gotten rid of the one you two had shared. “And please stick to it this time.”

He cracks a smile as he eyes his options. “Do they have those ones that light up? And play the songs so you know how long to brush?”

“You mean the kid ones?” You’re ready to laugh at Yuta’s joke but he seems serious enough as he nods his head, vigorously.

“Uh, well, they’re probably around here somewhere. Keep looking.” You hold back a chuckle when he goes back to searching intensely. “Which one does Johnny want?”

“Not sure, he stayed outside.”

“Oh god, he was serious about being scared?”

“Probably just wants us to do all the shopping.”

“Well, go tell him that if he doesn’t come in here and pick a toothbrush, I’ll be taking the liberty of getting him this one.” You hold up a fuschia pink one with a cute princess character on it. You assumed it was from some cartoon that was popular with the children of the planet.

Yuta obeys and seconds later, Johnny magically appears to grab a solid blue toothbrush off the shelf and give you a glare. After grabbing a couple more items, you check out. Johnny fishes into his pocket for money, mumbling about how he knew it was in there somewhere. After much digging, he pulls out a crumpled wad of cash that you’re pretty sure isn’t even valid on the planet you’re on. He smiles proudly at you and Yuta then the cashier but the expression quickly falters.

“Wong Yukhei?”

You glance between him and the man behind the register—Yukhei, according to Johnny.

“Johnny Suh!” Yukhei’s voice is loud but filled with excitement. “I thought I recognized you! But I told myself there was no way!”

Johnny laughs, breathlessly. “I could say the same thing! What are you doing here, man?”

He casts his eyes downwards. “As soon as you left with those two guys, I realized I didn’t wanna street fight for the rest of my life either. I wanted to start over and I thought, what better place than here? So, I picked up a job at the palace—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Johnny interrupts. “You? In a palace? Never would've seen that coming.”

Yukhei grins so wide it seems like second nature. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, I just worked as a guard.”

“That’s still something!”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

Your question seems to bring his spirits down once again. “I quit. They kept telling me to ‘work harder’. But it was just about impossible, I was already running around like crazy for the royal family. They’re so demanding, I swear. Only person who didn’t drive me crazy was the prince.” He sighs. “I didn’t have what it took, I guess.”

“Sorry to hear that, Yukhei,” Johnny sympathizes. “You still made an effort, though.”

He nods. “Yeah. But it doesn’t always work out. So, here I am.” He forces a weak smile. “What about you?”

“I turned things around—not for the better, though.”

Yukhei raises a brow, offering you and Yuta a glance. “I’m guessing your new friends have something to do with that.”

Yuta chuckles. “Hey, he joined the team before me or her.”

“Team?” Yukhei echoes.

Johnny nods, half heartedly. “Yeah. Long story short I basically live on a ship with four fools, commit crimes, and look for imaginary treasure.”

Yukhei looks dumbfounded but his lips curve upwards in amusement. “Sounds… fun?”

This produces a laugh from Johnny. “Sometimes.”

He leans forward on the countertop, curiously. “And what’s this treasure we’re talking about?”

“Some amulet. Our guy in charge—you’ve seen him, he’s got pink hair—is wild about finding it. We’re just along for the ride.”

Yukhei nods in understanding. “I see… and this amulet, could you describe it for me?”

Johnny shares an uncertain look with you and Yuta, obviously expecting one of you to come forward. You both return his stare.

Yukhei chuckles. “Okay, lemme ask again. Could you bring me someone who can describe it?”

Not even a minute later, Taeyong has been forcibly dragged out of the ship joined by Jaehyun who insists on filling his duty of backing up the older male.

“Yukhei, this is Taeyong. Taeyong, Yukhei. Okay, now that you’re no longer strangers, can you give our friend here a quick description of your beloved amulet?”

Taeyong is taken aback by Johnny’s strange request but does so anyway. When it came to the amulet, you all knew he would do anything. “Well, it can fit inside the palm of your hand. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous, too. So gorgeous it could be mistaken for a piece of fine jewelry.”

The five of you stay silent as Taeyong continues reciting what he had heard from his grandfather so many times. Once he’s finished, you notice that there’s a satisfied expression on Yukhei’s face.

“I think I know what you’re talking about.”

Taeyong smiles at the declaration, teeth making a bright appearance. He had never met someone other than his relative that knew of this treasure. “Are you serious?”

Yukhei nods, positively sure. “Oh yeah.”

“Do you happen to know where it is?” You can hear the hope and fear in your captain’s voice. You could even feel it. The cruciality of this moment weighs in on you; this could be a turning point in your hunt or another dead end.

“It’s on this planet.”

Your entire crew stays silent, too stunned by this new piece of information to say a word so Yukhei decides to continue.

“In the palace. Around the prince’s neck.”

This is followed by another moment of silence. Each of you celebrate internally, happy to finally have found a location. All that was left was a plan. How were you going to get it in your hands? As if he’s reading your minds, Yukhei speaks up.

“I know how to get it for you, too.”

“How?” Taeyong nearly pleads.

“Johnny?” He directs his attention to the older male. “How do you feel about becoming a palace guard?”

Johnny’s face gives away his answer before his mouth has the chance—his nose scrunches up and his eyes widen ever so slightly. Taeyong stares up at him, filled with a newly found ambition. That seems to pressure Johnny into agreeing to whatever Yukhei was scheming and Taeyong must surely know it.

“I… guess I could.”

“Alright then, go to the palace immediately. They must be desperate to find a replacement for me but they’re always open to more defense. They believe in power in numbers over there, they don’t care where you’re from or who you are. They’ll settle for anyone as long as they look like they can take and give a good punch. And, you know what Johnny? You’re the strongest guy I’ve ever met. It’s impossible that they won’t hire you.”

Johnny smiles at the compliment before asking, “What do I do once I’m inside?”

“You wait. Complete the tasks they give you. Don’t make yourself stand out. Just… don’t be suspicious.” Yukhei seems pleased with the nod of understanding Johnny gives him. “Once night falls, Johnny will wait by one of the backdoors and let somebody in using the keys they’ll give him along with his armor and sword. This will make sneaking inside the palace way easier. Once that person is in, they’ll have to steer clear of any other guards and head to the prince’s room. The amulet will be wherever he is.”

Taeyong purses his lips as he thinks of a candidate to do the sneaking. “Can’t be Yuta—”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll end up stealing stuff instead of staying focused.”

Yuta can’t seem to argue with this statement so he simply nods and keeps quiet.

“Can’t be me, I’m the getaway driver. Jae?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I stay with you. If we get found out, you’ll need defense.”

Five pairs of eyes end up on you and you sigh. “You don’t even have to say it. I got it.”

Taeyong places a hand on your shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You give him a genuine smile. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get this amulet… finally.”

You file into the ship and Yukhei joins you to serve as a guide. He tells you the ins and outs of the castle and informs you of important details as you take off. You can’t help but feel your heart thump as you listen to him. You certainly did not think you would be getting anywhere near the amulet today and yet here you were—about to break into a castle for it.

When you land nearby the palace, that anxious feeling only intensifies. You know you won’t have to do anything risky until later that night but seeing Johnny getting ready to leave makes you realize that it was really happening. You were finally going after what you had spent the last year of your lives seeking. You couldn’t afford to slip up despite all the things that could go wrong.

“Nervous?” you ask, approaching the brunette.

He runs a hand through his hair and gives you an honest shrug. “Kind of. But then I think about how good life’s gonna be once we get that amulet.”

You admire his positive outlook. You decide that you’ll match his mindset instead of bringing him down with your worries. “True. We’ve been waiting for this. It’s kind of exciting when you think about it.”

He nods. “We can do it.”

You’re sure his certainty is supposed to boost your confidence as well so you reply, “I know.”

With that, he leaves the ship, walking into the bustling streets, towards the palace Lucas has described to him. Although, he assured him it’d be impossible to miss. You watch his figure become increasingly harder to track before he disappears completely, becoming just another someone in the crowd. You back away from the window with a sigh.

All that was left to do was play the waiting game. But you had been playing it for the last year, right? What would another couple hours do?

It was true what they said about sunsets being more beautiful on certain planets. You decide that this specific planet is one of them. Everyone onboard the ship takes a pause from worrying to gaze at the sky, painted with warm oranges and yellows before setting into a cool purple and blue hue. Stars begin to appear and you see the outline of three moons in the distance. Night time was near and you would be needed on the field soon. You prayed that Johnny had successfully made it inside the palace or else your mission would be over before it even started.

“You ready to go?” asks Taeyong as you retie your laces.

You glance up at him and nod, tightening a knot. “I hope so.”

He doesn’t say another word but continues to stand above you, even when you begin to work on your other boot. You suspect he’s trying to find the proper words to tell you not to ruin this for him and simultaneously boost your morale so you stay silent. When you stand from your kneeling position, Taeyong still doesn’t say a thing. Instead, he pulls you into a tight hug.

“Please be careful.”

This is a command you certainly didn’t expect but you’re not disappointed at all. You carefully wrap your arms around him. “I will.”

“I want you back in one piece, got it, young lady?”

You feel your heart tighten along with the knot in your stomach but you only chuckle. “Yes, captain.”

The three others who sit in the cockpit yell encouragement your way and wave you off before you slip out of the ship, engulfed by the darkness. You had never been afraid of it. It was always more of an ally to you than something to fear. You were grateful—it shielded you away from everyone and everything else whenever you found yourself doing unsavory things which, for the record, was often.

You follow the path Yukhei instructed you to take. You had been ordered to go around the castle, through the nearby woods that would hide you away from any guards patrolling the perimeter. As you tried your best to dodge prickly shrubs and low hanging branches you can’t help but envy Johnny who simply had to knock at the front gates to be let in.

The prospect of seeing your friend again motivates you to keep walking. You might have secretly cursed the castle for being so large as you trudged along, your legs already starting to feel slightly sore and a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead but you didn’t let yourself feel too discouraged. You remind yourself that Johnny is waiting for you on the fourth door behind the castle, as Yukhei had ordered. You had to make it to him.

For Taeyong.

For your team.

For you.

After what seems like an eternity, you reach the door. Just to be sure you scan it up and down. Wooden? Yes. Scratches on the bottom? Many. Rusty doorknob? Definitely. It seemed to match Yukhei’s description perfectly and if everything was going according to plan, Johnny should be right behind it as well. Without any further hesitation you knock as softly as possible. You don’t expect it to be audible but to your surprise, it opens almost immediately. His figure is poorly illuminated but you can still see the shine of Johnny’s metal armor and the reflection of a moon in his sword.

You give him a quick once over. “Looking good, John.”

He shushes you but you still manage to catch his smile. “Just get in here.”

You obey and he closes the door behind you as soon and quickly as possible. You barely get a chance to look around what you’re sure to be the nicest place you’ve ever been before Johnny’s ushering you towards a large set of stairs. You both rush up them and upon reaching the second floor he grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to stare directly at him.

“Go left, right, down the hall, and through the door. It’ll be the last door to your right.”

He’s referring to the location of the amulet and you nod, hoping he can’t see just how nervous you are. These directions are sacred. They were what you had been looking for.

“There’s no guards up there so just worry about getting the amulet and getting out. I’ll be here in case anyone decides to come by.”

Without further ado you dart up the stairs, the carpet on each step preventing you from making a noise. You glance down at Johnny who is posted at the bottom of the staircase. He smiles warmly over his shoulder and gives you a subtle thumbs up just as a pair of guards pass him by.

You move fast and without hesitation, your friend's words still clear in your mind. When you finally arrive in front of the door that holds the amulet you take a shaky deep breath. Your trembling hand twists the doorknob completely before pushing it open enough for you to take a peek inside.

A boy, around your age, sits cross legged on a king sized bed with satin sheets, acoustic guitar in hand. His fingers fiddle with the strings and he pushes a pair of specks farther up the bridge of his nose as he examines sheet music sprawled all over his mattress, attentively. You hear him hum to himself, tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrates on the melody. He sighs in frustration before leaning back on his headboard. He briskly runs a hand through his black locks before his fingers land on something on his neck. Your eyes widen as you catch a glint of green.

He was still wearing the amulet.

You refrain from groaning. You thought it would be on his dresser or bedside table and that finding it would only take a little rummaging. Then again, you also thought he was going to be asleep. It seemed like this guy just wanted to make things difficult for you.

You find yourself to be at a loss. You ask yourself what Taeyong would do before concluding that pondering it was useless. Obviously, Jaehyun would be right by his side as backup. You had no one but Johnny at the bottom of the stairs and you couldn’t call for him. What about Yuta? He would probably charge in, gun cocked and loaded. You couldn’t do that either.

You decide that all you can do is your best.

So, you knock. The humming ceases and you hear the bed creak. You press yourself against the wall, holding your breath as his footsteps near and the door flies further open.

“Donghyuck, I know you’re a servant but I already told you that you don’t have to knoc—”

The prince isn’t given a chance to finish before your hand is clamped firmly against his mouth. Your other hand grips his shoulder with such force that he wails in pain. You feel him struggle to escape your grip and his cries come out muffled. You push him against the door, eyes boring into his caramel brown orbs.

“Would you be willing to give me the amulet, my prince? Or will I have to rip it off you?”

Your every word is laced with venom and if anything, he should feel more threatened but you can’t help but notice that his screams have stopped. He mumbles something that you can’t understand so you part your fingers so he can get a couple words in.

“You’re a girl?”

You shut your hand over his mouth again, rolling your eyes. “Yes, I’m a girl. Problem?”

He shakes his head, furiously.

“Great. Amulet, please?”

He raises a hand to grip the string that binds the precious emerald green stone to his neck. He removes it and places it in your outstretched hand. You refuse to let the sheer excitement that blooms in you show. You needed to maintain the upper hand.

“Very good. You’re a smart thing, huh? Glad to see they taught someone around here some common sense.”

You inspect the amulet and allow yourself a smile. Just a small one. You tuck it into your pocket before turning your attention back to the prince.

“What’s your name?”

“Mark. Mark Lee.”

“Alright, Mark Lee. You’ve been very cooperative with me tonight, surprisingly so. I want you to keep it up, can you do that for me?”

He nods and you drag him towards his bed, forcing him to sit down on the edge. He gazes up at you, eyes slightly watery. You feel a pang of guilt at his fearful look but then you remember the gem in your pocket and suddenly a couple tears from Mark don’t seem like such a bad price to pay for it.

“Sit here. Don’t move until I’m gone. No screaming or calling for help either, got it?”

He nods once more. You back away from him, watching to make sure he stays still in his place. He does, eyes still following your every move.

“Okay, Mark, um. Have a good night?”

With that you all but fling yourself at the door. You run back the same way you came, containing any celebratory laughter or dances. You had the amulet. You were set for life. Your friends were, too. You’re convinced that nothing can bring you down.

“Hey! Burglar girl!”

Scratch that.

You spin on your heel and there stands Mark, charging towards you. You debate whether or not to keep running. You were so, so close. The stairs were right there. But then you catch sight of an object in his hand, one that shines even in the dark of the hallway. It’s green and hangs by a string. You pat your pocket, making sure if you really even had the amulet. You feel it, it’s with you. Then what was it that Mark had?

Against your better judgment, you wait right where you stand, allowing the boy to catch up to you. He wordlessly holds the second amulet up for you to take. You grab it, Mark having seemingly no problem with that.

“That’s… a decoy,” he pants, pointing to your pocket, doubled over as he inhales air.

You feel yourself become even more confused than before and this time you have no control over your facial expressions. Your eyebrows furrow and you hold the real amulet close to your face, staring at it carefully with uncertainty. All you can ask is, “why are you doing this?”

By this point Mark’s caught his breath and he stands up straight. “I wanted you to have the real one. I mean, you went through all this effort, right?”

“I don’t buy that. What are you gonna do? Turn me in? Is this a trap?”

Before you can speculate any further, Mark entraps your wrist with his hand. You kick yourself for even stopping in the first place. If you had made a run for it, at least you could go back to Johnny and Taeyong and the rest of your friends even if the amulet you held was fake. Now you were going to get consequences, for sure. You prepare for him to call out for someone but he never does.

“I want to go with you.”

You’re sure your ears are deceiving you so you don’t even bother responding and for a moment there’s just silence. He clears his throat.

“Did you hear me?”

“Oh, so you really did say that, huh?”

“Um, yes, I did.”

You shake your head. “Sorry, I’m just in a shock, I’m sure you can understand.”

He nods and releases his grip on you. “Yeah, this must be pretty confusing but I promise I’m being serious. Royal life is not something I’m cut out for and running away with a pretty stranger seems like my best bet right now.”

You blink a couple times. “Wow. So, this is how Jaehyun felt that one time.”

Mark tilts his head. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s just go. But only if you’re sure about this.”

“I’m positive.”

“Alright then.” You begin to go down the stairs before you pause and look back at Mark and the amulet in his hand. “That is real, right?”

He can’t help but give you a lopsided smile. “Yes, it is.”

“Just making sure.”

BONUS:

Taeyong is a loss for words as his eyes dart between you and the dark haired boy besides you. Jaehyun matches his confusion, arms crossed over his chest. Yukhei seems equally amused and worried, glancing at Mark, tentatively. Yuta smiles wickedly, interested with how things have gone and surely excited to see you attempt to explain yourself.

“Um, Johnny?” Taeyong says, hoping the oldest one onboard will have some kind of explanation.

He shrugs, a tired expression on his face. “I have no idea. The kid was set on coming, I wasn’t gonna say no. I just wanted to get out of there.”

Taeyong nods, staring at Mark, intensely. “Uh-huh. And you’re here because?” He leaves the question open-ended and Mark rubs the back of his neck, giving you a lingering look.

“Well, she kind of just appeared in my room and started bossing me around and like, I freaked but it was also the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in years so I didn’t want to lose her so I gave her the amulet—the real one, by the way—and told her I wanted to come along. Now I’m here in front of you all and I’m kind of uncomfortable, I won’t lie—”

“You got the amulet?”

You’re grateful for Taeyong’s interruption; you’re sure that without it, Mark would rant the entire night.

You shake your head. “He has it, actually.”

Mark steps forward and places it around Taeyong’s neck without a second thought. On the way back, you had briefly explained to him how long he had been looking for it and how much it meant to him. Mark found his dedication incredible and seemed even excited to give Taeyong his long-awaited prize.

Taeyong’s hands delicately trace the outline of the accessory and you swear he tears up.

“I’m glad it’s yours now,” Mark comments. “Even if you do sell it. It just sat around back at the palace, another ridiculously expensive thing nobody really cared about.”

Taeyong nods with a sniffle, overcome with emotion. Jaehyun reaches over to rub his back. Yuta begins to clap slowly but you nudge him and he knocks it off. You hear Johnny thank Yukhei for his help, to which he only shakes his head, humbly.

You lock eyes with Mark and he glances around the ship, looking suddenly nervous. You smile at his antics, motioning for him to come closer. He slowly obeys and you extend your hand towards him. He stares down at it, hesitantly.

“I don’t bite,” you promise. “I just want to start over. I don’t think I made the best first impression.”

He grips your hand back with a chuckle. “I beg to differ. I know you were trying to rob me and everything but you still seemed nice enough. That’s stupid to say about the person who had me pressed against a wall like, half an hour ago but to be honest, I was fine with it. It was kinda hot—”

A chorus of too loud to be real coughs fill the ship and the culprits are none other than your crewmates. They all eye Mark, as if to give him a warning. Even Yukhei gives him a nasty look.

“Um, so, anyway, thanks. For getting me out of there. Might not seem like it but it really sucked.”

You understand him completely, having been in a similar situation yourself. “No problem. Glad to have you around.”

The sudden sound of sirens prevent you from saying anything else. They’re incredibly loud and you press your hands over your ears to try and shield yourself from the horrendous noise. To add to the commotion, a couple cop ships speed by in the near distance.

“The sirens are from the palace!” Mark exclaims. “They’re probably looking for me!”

“So are the cops!” you respond.

You laugh at the way his face drops with worry. Being on the cops’ bad side was still foreign to him. You place a reassuring hand on his back.

“Don’t worry! You’ll get used to it!”

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misssophiachase · 3 years

Text

All You Never Say - Part 4a

Mr Mikael and Mrs Esther Mikaelson and Dr Grayson and Mrs Miranda Pierce request the pleasure of your presence at the wedding of their children:

The Hon Elijah Edward Mikaelson and Dr Katherine Elena Pierce

On the twenty-third of June, twenty-twenty one, 1400h at Ely Cathedral followed by a reception at Mikaelson Manor, Ely Cambridgeshire

Dress: White Tie

23rd June 2021, Mikaelson Manor, Ely Cambridgeshire - 8:47am

“What do you mean the beagle ate the wedding cake?” Caroline hissed, shutting the door behind her so as not to alarm the bride on her big day.

“Well, I can detail the stages of destruction, but yes, the Mikaelson's beloved pet dog decided to taste test the cake early, long story short.” Caroline was certain that the housekeeper’s use of “the Mikaelson’s beloved pet dog” was clearly by design.

Caroline was all for adorable dogs, especially those that were photogenic for the wedding album like Tully, but not those who scoffed the cake before the ceremony had even begun. Especially given that extra amount of fondant and extra tier which cost the earth.

But given the way Tully looked at her with those imploring, brown eyes and the telling evidence of frosting smeared across her chops, she was close to calling it a day.

Who needed cake anyway? It was worth way too many calories and most people would be so drunk that far into the festivities it wouldn’t even matter, right?

“So, I see you’ve met our cute but pressing problem.”

Caroline turned to see the best man in all his glory. And by that she meant those unkempt curls, sly grin and a fitted, tank top that should be illegal given those arms on display.

Was this their thing? Just running into each other partially clothed. She looked down at her ensemble self-consciously glad for the shorts, t-shirt and the Maid of Honour monogrammed robe that she greedily pulled across her chest.

“Our problem?”

“Because a problem shared is a problem halved right, wedding buddy?”

“Wedding buddy? Oh, you mean the same guy who wanted to document the lost ring for speech fodder?”

“It was a joke but clearly you don’t know what that means, grouchy.”

“Oh, like that time you let your dog, albeit cute, eat the wedding cake before the ceremony. I only hope the Bride and Groom figurines are still firmly intact at least?”

“Well, their passing was most definitely mourned,” Klaus noted. Caroline was trying to be mad, but he was doing that thing where he looked cute so as to avoid her wrath. Bastard.

“So, what you’re telling me is that we have no cake or cake topper and the wedding is due to start in 5 hours?"

“I mean there’s some cake left, albeit a mess, but if the guests want to eat it off the floor...”

“Yeah, I can see the Prime Minister doing that. You are not helping, Mikaelson. Look, I’ll call the baker, they must have a back-up cake on hand, otherwise why are we paying them such an exorbitant amount? I mean it’s a cake, like it’s hard to bake one of those,” she rambled, the reality of the situation making a sudden and ugly appearance.

“Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this because you are clearly already upset but the baker has no wedding themed alternatives,” Klaus explained, shooing away both the guilty canine and her loyal housekeeper in the process, no doubt by design. This was not the news Caroline wanted to hear and clearly he knew it.

“What?"

“You are not going to lose it, not on my watch, Forbes.”

“I am not losing it,” she hissed, finally finding her voice. “But she is your dog and that makes you responsible for my mood.”

“She is a Mikaelson, I mean expensive taste comes with the territory,” Klaus replied. Caroline, meanwhile, felt the brief spell he had over her lift.

“Can you please stop offering up annoying commentary? We have an emergency, one that needs to be rectified STAT.”

“What I didn’t get to say was that the baker has two other cakes on hand.” Caroline’s ears pricked up, maybe all wasn’t lost.

“I’m listening,” she murmured.

Klaus pulled his cell from his pocket and swiped through his phone. “These are the options.”

He leaned in closer so she could see the photos but in the process his arm grazed hers and she was momentarily blindsided and not focused on the pressing emergency. It reminded her so much of two years ago, when she’d felt his arm encircle her waist and pull her towards him.

Caroline told herself he must have been dreaming at the time but that didn’t take away from how it had felt. It felt good, really good.

“Alright, love?” She looked up into his blue eyes, only deciding too late that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

“I’m just shocked by...” she paused, her eyes hurriedly flickering to his cell screen. “Congratulations on your Retirement, Bernie?”

“I’m sure we can change a few letters around or something,” she gave him a look which plainly said it wasn’t going to happen. “Right, here’s the other one."

“Happy 6th Birthday to our Unicorn Princess? Don’t think Kat would mind being called a unicorn princess at all but not sure about Elijah...”

“Well, what suggestions do you have, Forbes?”

He had a point, there were none that forthcoming but then it hit her.

“The bomboniere.” Caroline was surprised she thought of it given she was so caught off guard by his close proximity and the unfolding situation.

“The what?”

“I don’t have time to explain wedding terminology right now, I have a bride to reassure that everything is peachy. Just meet me in the kitchen in twenty minutes and put some clothes on while you’re at it.”

“Only if you do,” he smirked. Caroline didn’t wait before slamming the door in his smug face.

There were so many things to reconcile with Klaus Mikaleson and not just her feelings. Last night they’d shared more than a sandwich in the kitchen and two years ago...well that was another story.

Perch, Los Angeles CA - 14 February (two and a bit years earlier)

Caroline felt like she’d finally hit rock bottom.

Not because it was Valentine’s Day.

Or that she was single.

That wasn’t the worst part of her predicament. She was currently...well, before she could lament her situation a bell rang out, breaking Caroline from her regretful thoughts. She didn’t have time to bid Phil the Chiropractor farewell because a burly looking brunette appeared immediately in his place.

“Tyler.” Apparently there was no need for an actual greeting or for Caroline to ask his name in the first place. I suppose they only had two minutes so he was getting straight to the point. Caroline couldn’t blame him given how painful this whole thing was.

Caroline was going to kill them. First Bonnie, who wanted their apartment to herself tonight so she could cook a romantic dinner for current boyfriend Jeremy. Clearly he hadn’t been present at her most horrific of food failures given they were still dating.

They’d been living together since Bonnie relocated to Los Angeles nine months earlier and Caroline was enjoying rooming with her best friend again after so long. Then she got a boyfriend, even if he looked twelve, and Caroline was relegated back to her usual existence. It wasn’t like Caroline wanted or needed a boyfriend because her schedule was busy enough.

Which took her to the second person she had to blame. Lexi. Her colleague and friend, who decided they should spend the evening speed dating so Bonnie could “get it on with her boyfriend” as she put it. Caroline figured the fact she’d already signed them up weeks earlier and only asked right before a deposition hearing were the main reasons why she had no choice but to agree.

Now, here she was, pretending to be interested in Tyler and shooting deliberate looks in Lexi’s direction who seemed unaffected given the way she was attempting to read her guy’s palm. Smooth.

“I don’t think I got your name?”

“Huh?” She looked into his warm, brown eyes feeling guilty she’d been blatantly ignoring him.

“Your name?” Before she could reply, she heard a very familiar voice call out her name.

Then he appeared in all his gorgeous goodness, his ability to wear a suit had not waned since they’d seen each other last at a mutual friend’s engagement party. Why he was here of all places, she had no idea.

“Caroline, sweetheart.” Sweetheart?

“Do you know this guy?” Tyler asked, the confusion obvious. She didn’t blame him.

“Of course she knows me, I’m only her boyfriend.”

Her what now? Caroline was too shocked to speak let alone reprimand him for being a presumptuous idiot.

“You have a boyfriend? Then why are you here?”

“I’d like to know the same thing, mate,” Klaus agreed, his hands crossed over his chest. Caroline was madly trying to crawl under the table just so everyone would stop looking at her like she was some two-timing girlfriend.

Lexi meanwhile seemed to be enjoying the entertainment from afar, raising her champagne glass in salute, even if she had no idea what was happening. Caroline wasn’t enjoying it at all. She wanted to scream at him for being such an ass but at the same time a rescue from this situation was an equally enticing prospect.

“I…”

Before she could find the words, he found them for her.

“It’s my fault, sweet cheeks,” he implored, pushing past Tyler and placing his hands in hers. Caroline was trying to ignore the electricity it generated but also the horrible pet name he’d bestowed. Like he couldn’t have come up with something normal? “I neglected you and for that I am so sorry but just know that I will love you, always and forever.”

Was he kidding? Next thing he’d be pulling out a cracker jack bracelet or resembling any one of the romantic leads in a Nicholas Sparks adaptation. Caroline made a note to tease him about his taste in movies and television later.

However it seemed their audience didn’t mind one bit. Women and men nearby were more interested in fawning over the scene playing out than resuming speed dating. Even their organiser seemed transfixed.

She hated him, especially for interrupting her night and being the smug pain-in-the-ass she knew so well but she needed to get out of there fast and he was her ticket.

“Honey bear,” she cooed, noting the slight twitch in his jaw. Caroline knew he was trying to withhold his signature smirk. But why did he have to smell so good withholding it? His hands were still firmly intertwined with hers too. “You took me for granted, so why should I forgive you?”

Now he was trying to contain an eye roll, only someone who’d known him for that long could tell. And she was loving every moment especially if he was going to crash her speed date and embarrass her in the process.

“And for that I am eternally sorry, baby cakes.” Caroline had to really try not to dry reach. “But you are the one for me. We are destined to be together forever, like soulmates.”

As much as she wanted to draw this out and force him to eat those horrible and predictable platitudes, this show needed to end. Now. Given Tyler’s defeated expression she knew it wouldn’t be too difficult to transition to the bar and to a much-needed straight vodka on the rocks.

“You were an imbecile, Mario, but I’m willing to consider a reconciliation if you stop being an asshat and promise to worship me forever.”

Before she could relish in her response and the slight tugging at the edges of his crimson lips, he’d pulled her up and moved them towards the direction of the bar. No doubt because her demands were slightly out of the question and he was starting to feel embarrassed himself. Served him right really. Given half of the people were entranced by their conversation and the rest were clearly dubious she decided it was good timing to high tail it out of there.

“Worship you forever, someone clearly has tickets on themselves,” he muttered, gesturing to the barman. “And who is Mario? I so do not look like a Mario.”

“Says the man child named Mario who called me sweet cheeks and baby cakes."

“I was clearly being sarcastic,” he shot back, gesturing for a shot. “What was honey bear all about then?”

“You barrelled into my life uninvited, and last time I checked you don’t live here.”

“I'm in town for business and was having dinner with colleagues. Had I known it was going to be dinner and a show I might have arrived sooner.” Caroline chose not to respond immediately, just drank her vodka in one, long gulp. “Someone is thirsty.”

“I need to drink to deal with you.”

“Says the girl speed dating,” he whistled. “I mean you can be difficult and kind of abrasive, Forbes, but I never thought you’d speed date in a million years.”

“I am only doing this for Bonnie because she wanted the apartment to herself to cook for her date and then my friend Lexi signed me up without telling me,” she rambled.

“She’ll have another vodka,” he gestured to the barman. “So, I take it this boyfriend hasn’t sampled Bennett’s cooking yet? I just hope you left the fire extinguisher in plain view.”

“That’s what you took from all of this?’"

“I feel like if I delve too deeply I’ll be too immersed in all the Rebekah type drama and we both know that is not my thing.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your best wishes to your sister,” she growled. “So, why involve yourself and embarrass me like that in front of total strangers? Let me guess, you’ve got no one to play with and were bored?”

“Don’t underestimate my ability to find a playmate, love.” The way he drawled “playmate” was making places below feel like they hadn’t in a long time. So much so that she didn’t even try to bite back. “Anyway, I thought it would be fun,” he teased, his left dimple making an unwanted appearance at that exact moment. “And I could tell you you needed rescuing.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress you need to save, Mikaelson,” she argued.

“Says the girl who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here,” he shot back. “So, you’re welcome.”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” The patrons began to chant and tap their glasses, Caroline only just realising they seemed to have an audience of very interested speed daters watching their every move.

“I’m going to need more vodka,” she muttered, “But not here.”

Roosevelt Hotel, Beverly Hills - 2 hours later

“So, this is where you bring all your playmates?” It was the first thing that came to mind when Caroline spied the king size bed taking pride of place in his suite. They’d spent an hour at 25 degrees, the hotel’s poolside bar and were now in his suite.

Inexplicably.

Okay, maybe not so inexplicably.

Caroline wasn’t one to go to a guy’s hotel room - especially this particular one - but between the vodka buzz and the fact Lexi had picked up and Bonnie was enjoying her night in their apartment there wasn’t much choice about where to go.

The vodka had helped loosen her usual inhibitions and, although she’d never say it aloud, Caroline was enjoying his company. Although, if anyone asked about this temporary bout of insanity she’d blame the alcohol.

“ Says the woman who was questioning the existence of said playmates only a few hours earlier.”

“So, you won’t mind if I do this?” She stated, not bothering to ask his permission as she discarded her heels and jumped onto the perfectly made bed. He stopped what he was doing momentarily, his eyes transfixed on her short, black dress and bouncing, blonde waves.

“I’m going to have to tip the maid extra now,” his voice was low, husky almost.

“Maybe she deserves it,” Caroline shot back.

He didn’t respond immediately, just shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. She was watching him do it like it was in slow motion. Then he rolled up his shirt sleeves. Who knew forearms could be so...appealing?

Caroline was starting to think that she was entering some sort of alternate universe she needed to escape, if only just to keep her sanity and self respect. I mean he was Klaus Mikaelson and she wasn’t one of his “playmates.” Not by a long shot.

“Drink?”

“Water, please,” she replied immediately, he cocked an eyebrow as if to say she was no fun. “I’m a cheap drunk, what can I say? And who knows what else I might trash in this place under the influence?”

He seemed to accept her response, busying himself with drink preparation. “So, why exactly did you go speed dating in the first place?” He asked, filling a tall glass with ice cubes.

“I told you,” she panted, finally tiring of the activity and making herself comfortable on the expansive bed. “Bonnie…”

“I heard that version,” he pressed. “But I want the real one.”

He passed her the water and made himself comfortable on the bed, his aftershave combining with the dizziness and messing with her overall composure.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and maybe you don’t understand, but spending it alone can kind of suck,” she confessed. “Especially when your roomie kicks you out of the house.”

“I just hope you kick Bennett out on Halloween as payback.”

“You like Halloween?”

“You have no idea, love,” he chuckled. “No rose petals or corny ballads, just blood, guts and general mayhem.”

“Noted.”

“It’s just this ridiculous Hallmark Holiday,” Klaus offered, stretching out further and grazing her legs in the process. “It creates unrealistic expectations.”

“So, it’s Hallmark’s fault?”

“Hallmark is the tip of the iceberg,” he explained. “Every candy company, every florist, every jeweller and don’t even get me started on those terrible things they call romantic comedies.”

“You don’t like romantic comedies?”

“I try to steer clear for my own sanity, Caroline.”

“Not tonight,” she murmured, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “If I’m forced to stay in this mediocre hotel with you then...”

It was a lie and they both knew it but suddenly the less tipsy version of herself felt like she needed an excuse to stay the night with her best friend’s brother in such close quarters.

“I demand a movie marathon.”

“Terminator, Rambo, Rocky?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Mikaelson,” she shot back. “And I happen to know there is a marathon on television tonight.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“I’m deathly serious,” she answered. “But before we start, I’m going to need some popcorn and a shirt.”

“You want my shirt?”

“Not the shirt you’re wearing, lover boy, don’t get so excited. But I can’t sleep in this dress.”

His eyes seemed to linger a little too long on her body and Caroline was trying to do everything in her power to remain calm. Luckily he broke the silence not too long after.

“I’ll get you a shirt, but I’m not going to enjoy these movies at all, understand? I am only watching these ridiculous excuses of cinema because you’ve taken my television hostage?”

2 hours later…

“So, the apparent “virgin who can’t drive” ends up with the step brother? I mean I’m not surprised given the poor and predictable plot but is this kind of union legal in the state of California?”

“For the fiftieth time, he’s not related,” she growled, throwing a few popcorn kernels in his direction. This is about Cher realising that material things in life aren’t everything.”

"Whatever you say, Forbes. Although, tell me after this movie ended she ditched the mansion, the jeep, the designer plaid and knee sock combination outfits and moved to the Valley?”

He was annoying but also eerily observant.

“Yes, I mean maybe? People with money can change.”

“They’ve clearly never met Mikael or Esther.”

He said it quietly but Caroline couldn’t mistake the pain in his voice. She knew about his difficult past but they’d never been close enough to discuss it and given they were lying in the same bed it didn’t seem like the best time to open that pandora’s box.

“Do I have a great choice for you next,” she promised, her eyes sparkling, hoping to lift the mood.

2 hours later…

“Are you crying?”

“No, for the last time I have allergies, Caroline.”

“Inside?”

“The pollen level was high today and the doors in these rooms are forever opening and closing. Maybe the maid doesn’t deserve such a big tip after all.”

Maybe it was cruel, but it was on television and there was no stopping the effects of the Notebook on even the most emotionless male.

2 hours later…

“I thought I’d seen everything,” he scoffed, stretching out tiredly. “She paid a guy to be her wedding date?”

“Not just anyone, he’s hot.”

“He’s an escort.”

“I think it adds to his overall appeal. He knows how to treat a woman because of his experience.”

“And how many escorts have you met?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Wow, if you ever show up to a wedding with a stranger, I’ll be asking for their credentials,” he joked. “Wait, you think he’s attractive?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Each to their own I suppose, but that aside, the whole premise is just unrealistic.”

“It is a movie.”

“Yeah, a romantic comedy,” he shot back. “Case closed. Now, can we please sleep already? I think I deserve it after that marathon effort.”

“Fine,” she conceded, leaning across to turn off the lamp. “I have to say your shirt is very comfortable.”

“It should be," he replied, snuggling into the covers. “That’s my lucky Ramones t-shirt.”

As her head hit the pillow, Caroline was wondering why he gave her that particular shirt to wear. She couldn’t deny just how good the worn fabric felt against her bare skin and how the faint hint of his aftershave consumed her senses.

Sleep was immediate.

When she woke up the next morning and felt his arm encircle her waist and pull her towards him Caroline relished in the feeling. She assumed life would go back to normal but for now she was happy to live in the moment. It was probably better that way.

Read on AO3 HERE

#klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #all you never say #klaroline #misssophiachase

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regrettablewritings · 3 years

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Modern!Jaskier x Reader Ship Meme

Prompts taken from this ship meme

Which one texts like a straight white boy?: Of course it would have to be our resident white boy. It isn’t even that he necessarily means to, there’s just an embarrassing amount of overlap between the messages a straight white boy tends to text, and those of your rising star boyfriend. You’d look more into it if it weren’t for the fact that you know there’s no actual malice in it, and because it’s just so sad that it’s funny. If one were to go into the photos saved on your phone, they would’ve surely come upon an entire album of screenshots you’d taken over the years, from when Jaskier would be on tour without you to when he’d just be resting at home while you were out at work. Things like: “Wat r u up to 2nit, cutie? ;)” “I’m probably just gonna play whatever’s on my Watch Later backlog on youtube until I conk out.” “Wild!!! anyway wat would u do if i was there rn~?” Or “Do u miss me? :(” “Of course I do ya dingus!” “Ok....Can we do a quickie over videochat?” “Jas i’m at the store.” “The point still stands.” Or “Watcha thinkin bout? ;)” “About how The Great Gatsby becoming public domain means there’s nothing stopping anyone from making a drag show interpretation called The Gay Dragsby.” “Aaww w/o me? ;)” “...” “WAIT NO I THOUGT YOU’D SAY YOU WERE THINKING ABOUT ME SHIT NO.” “BUT ACTUALLY DO GO ON IM KINDA INTERESTD.” If it were anybody else, you would’ve blocked them. But this wasn’t anybody else. It was your Jaskier: Your foolhardy, constantly horny, but never-short-of-loving Jaskier. And besides, not for nothing, at least they were something you could get a laugh out of.

Which one cried during a fucking Disney movie?: Once again, Jaskier is the guilty party. It’s no secret that he’s the more emotional of the two of you -- he wore his investment in Titanic with pride, after all. But it is a secret that the particular Disney movie to make him cry was Hercules of all things! Not Bambi, not The Lion King, not even Beauty and the Beast, but goddamn Hercules! (On another note, he also cried to Coco. But that barely counts: Literally everyone and their mother has cried during Coco. The only difference here was that Jaskier could relate to being a young man so in love with music while coming from a family that discouraged the pursuit of it.) This isn’t a knock on anyone who enjoys the movie, mind you, but let’s be honest: Out of the Disney animated canon, Hercules isn’t exactly the most . . . emotionally cathartic or heart-string-plucking of the bunch. But just because it didn’t go out of its way to create a crying frenzy doesn’t mean that it’s lacking in some humanity. It is, after all, still a Disney film. The problem is, Jaskier can’t even quite express why it made him cry the night you both decided to watch it. Maybe it had something to do with a young man most people took as a joke trying to achieve greatness? And to be fair, “Go the Distance (Reprise)” and “A Star is Born” differently when you’ve done some growing . . .

Who put a goddamned fork in the microwave?: It only happened once, but you’d never let him live it down. You like to joke that you’d left him to his own devices for just fifteen minutes so that you could take a shower -- of which was completely true -- and that was all he needed for things to go downhill. Nobody wants to think they’d be in the wrong for trusting a 20-something year-old to not be his usually somewhat distractable self. But that particular day, said 20-something year-old decided to occupy that little spot of time to himself with TV and a plate of leftovers. And normally this would’ve been fine and dandy. But normally, Jaskier would’ve just waited for the food to heat before searching for something to watch. It shouldn’t have been too big of an issue that it went the other way around that day, but apparently it was. As much as he wanted to (which honestly wasn’t by much), Jaskier just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the images flashing on the TV. The baby blues were set on the screen the entire while -- up until he heard a faint popping. Followed by a sound he normally only heard in a cheesy sci-fi movie. The problem was, he wasn’t watching anything even remotely science-fiction-y . . . All you were doing when you exited the bathroom was going to grab your lotion. That was literally all you had any expectations for. What you hadn’t expected to come upon was your boyfriend, hollering and diving over the sofa in order to scramble into the kitchen and stop that strange, not-good-sounding sound. Suffice to say, you had to put your shower on hold; it simply had to wait for you to finish fussing, then again for you to finish laughing your ass off. And again because if you entered the shower still laughing, you’d probably slip and break your head open and then Jaskier would have to deal with another possible emergency caused by himself.

Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes “Guess who?” thing?: You can both be guilty of it, but Jaskier without a doubt does it more. Sometimes he’ll emerge from “his cave” (aka the little nook in the apartment where he likes to mess around and write lyrics or arrangements) on a break and catch an unsuspecting you sitting on the couch or at the dinner table. Other times, it could just be when he comes back from running some errands or doing a quick interview at the local radio station. You don’t mind it much . . . Especially since you can get a rise out of him by purposefully guessing the wrong person. (“Hmmm . . . Could it be . . . my mail-order husband? Boy, that was quick. And all the way from Russia, too . . .” “Uh, no.” “The milkman, finally accepting my invitation to commence a torrid love affair?” “Okay, you know damn well -- ” “Or better yet: My hopes and dreams have manifested, oh, Waluigi, could it really and truly be you!?” “What in the absolute fuck --”)

Who puts their cold hands/feet on their partner?: Because it’s usually himself who presents as being the more mischievous of the two, and because he tends to run the warmest, it always shocks Jaskier when you decide to play dirty and put your cold limbs all over him. Is it childish? Yes. But are his reactions to the sudden feeling of icy flesh hilarious? Also yes. You love to creep up on him when he’s tuning his guitar or scribbling down lyrics, or just minding his own damn business by trying to actually turn in relatively early for once. You love even more to watch him jolt and release the most high-pitched yip a man of his build could ever even joke about making. You’ll still be laughing about it as he scowls at you, cursing your “ghoul hands” and demanding to know if he’s dating a corpse at this point. Of course, no matter how peeved he might be, you can always count on one other thing from his dramatic reactions: Him huffily grabbing your hands into his own and rubbing them warm, or him forcing a park of fuzzy socks on your feet. And just for extra measure, you can be sure that he’ll spend the rest of the night holding you close or cuddling you -- “For exchanging bodily heat purposes,” he will always reason.

Who had that embarrassing reality TV marathon?: You both are guilty of it, actually. The question should really be, who is the least shameful about it. As with most things regarding a lack of shame, it was, of course, our dear Jaskier. Being a musician with a growing following, the little attention whore just can’t miss out on an opportunity to show himself off to his awaiting public. A rising star with relatability and a taste for trash? People eat that shit up! So you’ve learned to be less surprised every time he decides to liveblog himself watching things like Love Island or any of the 90-Day Fiancee spin-offs. In fact, in more recent times, you’ve come to join in with him, adding your own corresponding Tweets and commentary. Though don’t be too shocked once he starts holding polls and letting the public decide what show the two of you should watch next.

Who laughs more during sex?: You do, completely through Jaskier’s own efforts. Jaskier’s always had a pretty lax view of sex. This didn’t change when he met you, of course, but how he specifically portrayed that laxness did undergo some metamorphosis. Before, the entertainer was much more intent on his bedroom experiences being a display of power and an ability to please. Something dramatic and to be taken seriously. He still sees the importance of satisfaction in the bedroom, mind you, but with you, he can’t help but feel more . . . comfortable. With you, it’s a little more okay if he accidentally makes a dumb noise that in no way can be salvaged as sexy. With you, it’s a little more okay if he struggles to get his or your pants off, or if he struggles with removing your bra. And with you, he’s come to find that he’s a lot more okay with sharing a giggle or being a little more loose about things. It’s fine if your fingers tickle him or if he struggles to think of something proper dirty. But it’s even more fine if you think something he says or does makes you laugh, but not in a way that discredits his efforts. When you laugh, it shows that you’re comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to be with him, and be truly vulnerable. So do forgive him if he can’t help but run his fingers up your sides in a tickling fashion, or sloppily string together an innuendo. He simply loves how golden your laughter sounds, even in the throes of passion, intermingled with sweet whimpers and pleas of his name. How the heave of your chest and rippling of your tummy bumpily sync in with the rhythm of his thrusts . . . He just wants to see your smile, your genuine mirth, and bask in it with you. Besides, it serves as excellent song inspiration for him . . .

Who is the little spoon?: It depends on the sway of the day, really. As a whole, you both take turns without much thought simply because you tend to just fall into your positions. Some days, you just happen to lay into him in a way that makes you the little spoon. Other days, he conks out next to you in a manner that most could consider would make you the big spoon (or jet pack). Neither side really fights how it plays out unless one or the other may feel small and vulnerable, or just plain tired and in need of comfort. You often find yourself playing the role of the more dominating position during those first few days after Jaskier returning home from either a quick tour, or after finishing a long week of hours upon hours in the studio, or whatever kind of press-related nonsense his management team told him he needed to do. For as much as your boyfriend loved the spotlight, the truth was he was still quite capable of burning out and needing time to himself. Or, at the very least, just time with you. Even if that means he’s asleep for most of it, with you clinging to his back as he drifts off into a much-needed sleep. He makes sure to return it tenfold when you need just the same. Sure, your occupation may not be of the same nature as his own, but that didn’t mean you were in any less need of his cuddling. In fact, with him being gone as often as he was, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel almost guilty for not always being able to provide you with the basic comforts of being a constantly present boyfriend. Hence why the moment he would see your fatigued body crossing the threshold of your apartment, he would be all over you, ushering you into a quick shower, followed by a quick and simple dinner or snack, and capped off with him cuddling about you from behind. It didn’t matter if you’d come home right in the middle of a writing frenzy, or even if he’d been in the middle of searching for a breakthrough with an arrangement -- for as vain and bullheaded as Jaskier could be, he knew he owed you at least this much. You already put up with so much of his nonsense; this was quite literally the least he could do, both for you and for himself. Besides, he who was he to fight against the feeling of you wiggling closer into his hold, to deny himself the sound of your soft breathing as you lay yourself vulnerable to him? The fact of the matter is that he simply isn’t. He couldn’t be. Maybe in the beginning when things were still so unsteady and uncertain, but never now, when things had become so . . . well, what he could only describe as being “the both of you”. The both of you, molded and entwined, never wanting to let go. Never planning on it, either.

#jaskier x reader #modern!jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier imagines #the witcher imagine #the witcher imagines #regrettablewritings

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totallypathet · 3 years

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Episode 1

Drag Race is back, and so is the Pathet Commentary that noone asked for baby!

Since the UK has just gone into Lockdown #3, I am super glad there's a new series of Drag Race to keep me entertained every week - so you guys better be prepared for these ridiculously long posts, bc I got nothing else on 😂

So first of all let's talk about the format. I do not understand why this show is so obsessed with ~twists~ and ☆turns☆ and making everything a 💫gag💫. Like, nothing was wrong with the usual format? There was no need for this weird staggered introduction/lipsync thing. They kept flicking between introductions to lipsyncs, so it felt like you were always at the beginning of the episode. Very weird. And we all obviously knew that they weren't going to send half the people home on the first episode, so it just felt stupid to have this "lipsync for your LYFE" every 2 seconds. It feels insulting - if you're going to predicate an episode on half the people going home right away, the audience just feels cheated when actually noone goes home and everything we just watched is academic.

It didn't have to be that way either, they could have done all the introductions, had the whole cast do the "walk in" and have their little moment & one-liner; then put them into groups to lipsync? And whatever it is they're going to do with the Pork Chop group, they could have just said? Like "this year the first challenge is in teams, and to decide the teams we're going to have a series of lipsyncs". I have no idea if that's actually what they're doing, but it wouldn't feel as insulting as what actually happened. And then you can still have the "twist" where the teams aren't even and you have to send someone home. I wouldnt have minded that so much. I actually really like the concept of seeing them all lipsync in episode 1! It sets up the season, you can see who's going to be the lipsync assassin, you can see what kind of performer everyone is... I think its a really cool challenge for the first episode! Just the way they went about it was shitty.

The other thing is it was really clear that none of those queens knew they were gonna have to lipsync in their entrance looks, which feels unfair. At least let them prepare properly!

I also really missed the photo shoot mini challenge! Like, i know that it's harder to do that inline with covid restrictions, but I feel like there are still ways. They could have done an outside photoshoot, the photographer would not have had to be near any of the cast or crew... I just missed it.

Anyway, onto the breakdown!

1. Denali

I looooooooooved Denali's entrance look! It was so perfect. I have no idea how she was just casually walking on those skates though?! They looked like real skates, but they can't have been, right? Also, I am such a slut for like, people with super long plaits, and when they twirl the plait wraps around their body! I love it so much. The only teeny little critique I have, and I'm being super nit-picky here, is i think her contour is just a tiny bit too dark, or maybe not blended out super well? Such a nit pick, but the rest of her makeup seemed like beauty makeup, and it was done really nicely, so the contour really stood out to me.

It was also really obvious that that look was not a lipsyncing look. Which is such a shame, because I think she's a really good lipsyncer, I liked her lipsync, but I think it was a little bit hampered by what she was wearing. Its just really unfair that they didn't tell them to be prepared to lipsync in their entrance looks.

Overall though, I like Denali, I think she's great.

2. Elliott with 2 Ts

I really liked Elliott's entrance look, I thought it was a really cool 80s mom look, I liked it! I do think it was a shame that she was standing on stage in between Tina Burner and Kahmora Hall though - there was an all out campy costume on one side, an all out glamour beauty pageant look on the other, and poor Elliott did look a little over shadowed in the middle.

Unfortunately I think she was also middle of the road in the lipsync. Tina Burner is such a powerhouse that I think the other two were always going to look a little lacklustre next to her; but I think not being able to prepare properly can't have helped either! I could go either way on Elliott, I feel like I haven’t seen enough to make up my mind yet.

3. Gottmik

I really honestly thought they were called "GottMilk", which I thought was cute and fun, and I was almost disappointed when I realised I'd read it wrong and it was Gottmik. C'est la vie.

I loved Gottmik's entrance look - the makeup was stunning, the outfit was everything, I really enjoyed it! I'm really looking forward to what looks their going to pull out, especially makeup looks! I do think they're very young, and didn't seem all that confident in front of the judges; which I really hope changes! I think they're going to be amazing, I just think they need to recognise how amazing they are and own it. I also really liked their lipsync! I was finding it really hard to call between them and Utica, they both did great!

I'm also super excited to see a trans man on the show, we love inclusive drag! Hopefully this is a step towards the show being less transphobic. I'm going to be really interested to hear what Gottmik has to say about their experience on the show - particularly in a few years when they're no longer under contract with RuPaul.

Really excited by Gottmik, can't wait to see what they bring!

4. Joey Jay

I'm not convinced by Joey Jay just yet. I didnt buy everything she was selling this week. I don't know why, I just feel a bit...underwhelmed, maybe? I liked her confessionals, she seems quite funny, and self aware, which I love, I'm just not sure about her yet. I hated her entrance look, which probably didn't help 😂 the chicken feathers didn't bother me, I kind of love a big feather sleeve, and I'm all about being cheap - I do wish it hadn't been moulting though, like baby make sure your shit is glued down before you walk on! There was also something about the wig I didn't like, I think she was going for a wet look with the hair, but it just felt a bit flat. I feel like it didn't go far enough to be proper wet-look, so it just was a bit lifeless. And the bodysuit was cut super weird in the crotch area. It just felt like everything was a little bit off; and I just think for your first look, first impression, making an entrance; it was lacklustre. It's a shame.

The lipsync was okay. Again, I wish they'd been told that they were lipsyncing right off the bat, in their entrance looks, so they just were ready and prepared. Watching Joey Jay's lipsync felt a lot like she was just pulling out her "usual" moves, it didn't feel like she was in the moment. I think a lot of that can be put down to just being surprised and not totally ready? Again, it feels unfair.

I think Joey could be really great, and I do want to see her progress in the competition and see what else she has, I just feel like she didn't get to show her best this week, and I think that's a shame.

5. Kahmora Hall

Kahmora is beautiful. Her face, her body, the big hair, the Mackey dress... stunning. I literally couldn't listen to anything that was said while the camera was on her, I was so distracted by how beautiful she is 😂

I was a little disappointed with her lipsync though, it felt like she wasn't really there, she wasn't really in it? And there were a couple of moments where I think she dropped words. She just didn't seem super sure of herself, which is such a shame, because she walked in with confidence, she stood on that stage radiating star power, and then the lipsync came and she just faded. I really hope that it was just because she wasn't ready, and I really hope we see her kill it next week!

6. Kandy Muse

I can see exactly why her and Aja are friends 👌 I love that she's a big personality, and I think she could be the confessionals queen this season. I kind of love that she shaded Aja as well, because it didn't really feel like proper shade, it just felt like a sort of sibling rivalry, and I thought it was funny! I like her so far. I feel like she's the friend who's very over-excitable, and can be a little annoying, but 1000% has the biggest heart in the group and will always have your back. I relate to her 😂

I loved her entrance look! Any bedazzled and sparkling denim, I am here for it. The dress was gorgeous, I love the tie waist detail that made it look like a shirt tied around her waist, I loved the pearls on the boobs, the denim arm warmers! Everything. I loved it. The denim boom box? Iconic. As soon as she walked in, I got it. I got that she was New York, I saw a little Haus of Aja, I got the edgy beauty thing, I just loved it the second I saw it. The only shame of it is that, because they obviously weren't told they'd have to lipsync in these looks, she kept pulling it up during the lipsync. But thats production's fault, Kandy can do no wrong for me right now 😂

7. Lala Ri

Okay, hear me out. I love her. Her entrance look is the worst one I've seen for at least a few seasons. I hated it so much! And its such a shame, because she's obviously gorgeous, and an incredible performer, and funny, and all these other things, but girl the look was ugly.

I liked the high neck/faux mask thing, I thought that was cute. But it was just a weird look. There was so much fabric at the top of her body, and nothing underneath? And then to have fully bare legs with an ankle boot? No! It was just all wrong. Maybe it would have worked if the roll neck (I assume bodysuit, just for convenience) had been really sheer mesh, so there was a really clear distinction between those layers. And I wish she'd worn pumps instead of ankle boots.

But her performance was one of the best of the week. I loved it, I love how much she just threw herself into it, gave it everything, I loved it. Very much looking forward to seeing other looks from her though!

8. Olivia Lux

What a beautiful smile! Such a gorgeous face. I love love looooved her look, I love a two tone moment! Especially with the gloves - I just wish she'd done the shoes too! I loved it. I also love that it was two pieces, and that she was able to take of that long skirt in the lipsync, and give herself maximum movement! It was a really smart choice.

I also think her lipsync was great! I love that she gave me a little bit of everything; we had a bit of story-telling, a little comedy, a little camp, it was a whole lot of fun! I couldn't take my eyes off her, she was just sparkling.

I'm a little bit in love with Olivia, I think she's gonna be one to watch this year!

9. Rosé

I feel like I might be being unfair on Rosé, but I dont like her very much just yet. Her confidence was just bordering on arrogance to me, and I felt a lot like she was looking down on Olivia Lux for being a less experienced queen? And the look on her face when she "lost" the lipsync was like she was thinking "how could I lose to her", which I just didn't like at all. Idk, I probably am being really unfair, and a lot of it could be the edit, she just seems a little too cocky for me. And I also feel like, how are you gonna be super cocky like that when you've walked in in the most basic look. I don't know, I'm not buying it yet.

Her lipsync was good, but it just felt a little bit too serious, she wasn't having as much fun with it as Olivia.

10. Symone

I love that Symone came in in a dress made of Polaroids. I love it. I love unconventional materials, I love the confidence, I love that she literally came in going "this is me". And the way it was constructed as well, so it had the little flare on the bottom that moved when she twirled? Perfect. Also I love the orangey wig with it! It went so well with the dress, and she looked totally flawless.

Her performance was great as well! She was cute and funny, she knew that song back to front, I loved it. I bought it.

11. Tamisha Iman

Tanisha almost did what I wish Lala had done - the mesh top under the power suit, I loved it! I love a big power shoulder; the only problem I had was the hair. If you've got big high shoulders, you need to have big high hair, otherwise your hair is going to look flat, and you're going to look like you're walking around with your shoulders held up around your ears. Even if she'd just had an updo, I think that would have helped. There also was a little bit of a sense that the outfit was wearing her somehow? I dont know, it just wasn't quite right.

But her performance. She's a performer. She's a dancer. She was giving me Janet. She is one to watch this year. She came to play, she knows what she's doing, and I am so ready for it!

12. Tina Burner

We love a queen with a brand. Of all the entrance looks this year, I think hers was the smartest. I dont really know much about her, other than that she was in the cast, but when she walked in I was like "oh, that must be Tina Burner, she's got the firefighter look happening". Was it my favourite ever look? No, but it was well made, it fit her nicely, it didn't look like anything anyone else was wearing, and it told me exactly who she is; that's what you want from qn entrance look! She did it right.

Tina is also obviously used to sharing a stage with other people; she was perfectly comfortable in that lipsync. She didn't get in anyone's way, but she still knew how to pull focus and be centre stage, even is she wasn't literally centre stage. It was a great lipsync, she knows how to play this game, and I think she's definitely one to watch out for!

13. Utica Queen

I loooooooved Utica's entrance look! I love clashing patterns, over the top accessories, big hair, outfits that just shouldn't work but they really really do.

Unfortunately, I think that's where my love for Utica might run out. She has this cool fashion sense, and clearly a silly sense of humour, bit it felt like she was trying sooo hard to be ~quirky~ and it just came off annoying. Maybe that will improve, maybe I'm being really unfair and I just need to get to know her better, I just felt a bit like "okay babe, calm down".

Her lipsync was pretty good, but again, I feel like she was relying on silly & quirky. I dont know.

Overall, I'm a little bit disappointed in the first episode, I feel like we didn't get to see very much of the queens at all. Like, compare this to season 12; say what you want about season 12, but in the first episode(s) we got to see 5 looks from each queen, and song lyrics to tell us more about them. This episode, we got 1 look, a lipsync they weren't told about, and some chatting in the Pork Chop Loading Dock. I just think its a shame. This show is so invested in twists and turns that its forgotten that the queens are what makes this show special. I want to see them have fun and do well, not be totally defeated in episode 1!

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aidemint · 4 years

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𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐔𝐛𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢

Word Count: 1781

Warnings: Mentions of smoking

I told myself I would stop smoking, for the sake of my own sanity. I'd already thrown out all the nicotine I had and invested the money in books. Judging by how many novels I'd bought with the new budget, it was a good decision. A step in the right direction, considering that I was a writer.

Sighing as I organized the pile of books on the floor, stacking them so they fit perfectly into my bookshelf, I grumbled as I fought the urge to go out and suck on my pipe. Maybe there were leftovers still stuck in there. Once I realized my thought process, I shouted and hurriedly stuffed the novels into their place and fumed. Stomping out the door, I wanted to do something to stop this toxic cycle.

I should do something different. There has to be something to do.

Maybe my horrible life was a byproduct of all the shitty decisions I made so far. My publishing company didn't fail me, at least. I couldn't say that my career was a total flop, and I had a consistent paycheck, but I just felt so damn sad and lonely all the time. Sure, I was whining, but it wasn't for no good reason.

Plus, it wasn't like I hated every single thing on the planet Earth, I was just in a rut. Motivation was fleeting and I didn't have enough energy to chase after it. Not without an excuse, at least. I spent my days tirelessly writing and working my ass off for deadlines. To think I once enjoyed writing -- that was a long time ago, when I was a child. I'd daydream for hours, weaving fantasies in my head like I was on mushrooms.

How I wished to get a glimpse of the old days, to feel what I felt way back when I wasn't like this. I was so sure I was going to die alone and miserable, since I broke all the old connections I had when I started my career. It wasn't part of the contract or anything, I just felt that if I were to be mature, then I should sever off my childhood -- drop it like a lizard to its cut-off tail.

My jaw clenched as I spotted my pipe on the ground. I picked it up, squinting in distaste, debating about whether I should or shouldn't go to the market to get another good smoke in. I could drown out my worries that way.

Scoffing at myself, I took the fragile wooden tube and broke it in half, tossing it into the bushes.

How stupid.

Two days later, I was still in that same mood. But instead of twiddling my thumbs and lounging around like some lazy pig, I tried to pick up a new hobby while still reminiscing at the old days.

Ah, to be young.

I sounded like some old geezer.

But I kept thinking.

I miss everyone.

A week passed and I could safely say I was in a better mood. My cravings weren't as bad, and I tended to chew on mint leaves rather than suck on that damn wooden pipe.

Maybe for this reason, the universe decided to gift me a surprise.

The invitation arrived by crow. I was outside, doing some garden work when that black bird flew in front of me, its beady eyes analyzing every single one of my features. For a moment, it seemed hesitant to come near, but the creature eventually hopped its way to my feet and dropped a note by them.

I could have imagined it, but it seemed as if the crow gave me a slight bow before flapping it great wings and flying away. Eyeing the rolled-up parchment carefully, I picked it up and unraveled it, curious to see what message was displayed inside.

(Y/N),

I hope this letter finds its way to you without interruption. It's been a long time since we've last spoken, so before we get to the technicalities, I'd like to know: how are you? Hopefully you're in a prosperous position, one of good wealth and balance. I remember you always went on about becoming a renowned poet, and I think you're quite close to achieving that dream. Just yesterday I bought one of your books, and the limericks and clever haikus are quite entertaining.

Anyways, the real reason I wrote to you so late in our relationship is that I've been meaning to see you again. The last time we met, if I recall it correctly, was ten years ago -- far too long of a time for friends to be separated, no?

During these years, I imagine that a lot has changed. You're out and about, pursuing your dream and accomplishing your wildest dreams. It's admirable, to say the least. Though my disability hinders the possibility of me becoming a sumo wrestler, I am doing better than expected (even though I live with that disappointment).

I've just realized, in the middle of my jest, the topic has suddenly shifted to me. It's unpleasant, seeing how little control I have over my words. Please accept my apology, (Y/N), as I don't expect you to become suddenly infatuated with my life, nor does the meeting represent a discussion about the current events happening in my little "circle."

I just truly want to catch up with you. One of my greatest wishes is to see you again after all these years. I've missed our kinship.

So please, I implore you to come. There will be a guide outside of your house an hour after this crow is delivered. Please do not be frightened by the methods taken to bring you to my estate -- I'm sure you understand based on our previous history together.

I'm looking forwards to our potential reunion.

- Kagaya Ubuyashiki

My teeth tugged at my bottom lip as I closed the scroll, feeling tears well up in my eyes. With a tidal wave of memories flooding back into my mind, I couldn't help but want to cry. Kagaya was one of the people that made my childhood worthwhile. I'd met him when I was eight, while he was nine. We spent our free time together, however small the amount was.

Despite being so young, we were always busy. I took advanced courses at home, tutored by poets and writers from across the community. My parents did all they could to help me on my way to success, which I was grateful for. I never knew what Kagaya did, as he always kept it a secret, but I appreciated him nonetheless. He seemed so mature, even at age nine.

The way he thought was like a philosopher. Whenever I showed him my work, he'd bring about inquiries that would dumbfound even the greatest of my masters. I wondered how he did it and always wanted to be like him -- diligent, thoughtful, understanding.

Even now as an adult, he never fails to blow me away with his humility.

Sighing once more as I swept the stray tears off of my face, I pocketed the scroll and continued to do my garden work until the guide came. I was just about done when a masked figure strolled up to my home and asked me if I was (Y/N) (L/N). In response, I nodded and exchanged greetings before hopping onto their back and being blindfolded by the figure.

"I hope Master already told you about the procedure," they muttered awkwardly, "It's to prevent information from leaking." I laughed lightly and waved the thought away. Too excited to see my old friend again, the commentary bounced off me like rain to an umbrella.

"It's a smart idea." With that, the guide hauled me onto their back and took off running along their designated path.

Once I could finally see again, I blinked for a couple moments to let my eyes adjust to the blinding light. Though my vision was blurry and I couldn't quite make out the scene in front of me, I sensed multiple presences waiting for me at the entrance to the estate. When I'd finally cleared all the fog out of my head, I felt myself instinctively draw in a small gasp.

There Kagaya was, standing in the middle of a group of colorful figures. He wore a small and docile smile, gently waving at me from a distance. I quickly thanked the guide as I slid off of their back and made my way over to him. The ravenette regarded me with a kind look, and spread his arms as a welcoming gesture.

All the world's noise seemed to come upon deaf ears the closer I got to him.

Though his lips moved and the trees rustled, all I could hear was the sound of my own heart beating, thrumming through my eardrums. The sound of the flowing of blood in my veins became more prominent as I got increasingly star-struck.

Was this reality? Or just another twisted dream that came back to haunt me?

I wanted to believe that it was real. I desperately prayed, in that moment, that this was real. Maybe in a few seconds I would wake up, breathing heavily, covered in sweat in my futon on the ground. Then I'd squeeze my eyes shut again, crying for the sweet dream to come back to me. But as my staggers became steadier, and those steady strides quickened, I had a newfound energy to hope.

To believe that my life wasn't so hopelessly lost.

When the tips of my fingers reached my friend's kimono, my heart blossomed. The silk seemed to greet my touch like they already knew each other, despite the sensation being so foreign. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I wanted to collapse onto the ground and sob until my eyes fell out of their sockets.

To think that the connections hadn't been severed, but rather weakened, was the greatest relief I'd ever experienced. It spurred me to think that maybe I could reconnect with the outside world rather than keep to myself all the time.

The possibility of not being alone and feeling a socially ambiguous made my insides tingle with excitement -- with childish wonder. There was someone who still cared for me, who still waited for me all these years, who was kind enough to reach out and contact me, the recluse, the hermit.

When I fell into his arms, breathless, I closed my eyes and finally smiled.

I could smile again.

And be thankful.

And finally feel like I was somebody.

I couldn't have asked for anything more.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kagaya #kagaya ubuyashiki #imagine #oneshot #reunion #kagaya x reader #anime

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 4 years

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voiceless jaskier au (pt 7)

Chapter 4 is, with this, complete and shortly will be on AO3! And also possibly my longest chapter. YAY!

In which I actually let Jaskier have a Not Shitty Day (and Geralt has a much more shitty day)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

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

Geralt was, perhaps unsurprisingly, not back yet when Jaskier woke up, surrounded by the papers that held everything he'd purged the night before. He sat and stared blankly at the detritus of his hurt and anger, feeling hollowed out and weary.

Hollowed out and weary, but not like he was going to get lost in the mist again, which brought on a feeling of something like relief. He got out of bed and pulled fresh(ish) clothes on, being careful not to disturb any of the papers as he did. That was the thing, he was angry still, and he thought he had every right to be. Geralt didn't get to be overwhelmingly attentive one moment and then just refuse to listen to him the next, especially before running off to maybe get himself killed without thinking about how Jaskier would survive.

No, Jaskier thought with an admittedly bitter-tasting sort of pride, the papers would stay. He couldn't yell at Geralt, but as emotionally raw as he felt glancing over the things he'd written, maybe it would get through to Geralt and he'd look next time. And the time after that. And every time Jaskier was trying so hard to reach out of the silent pit he'd fallen into to connect to another goddamn person.

That decided, clothed and with a clean face from scrubbing in the washbasin, Jaskier considered his options. He could swear up and down to the innkeeper that the witcher would be back to pay for any meals he might have while staying alone, but the fact was that most people would be dubious of a witcher's guarantee to come back. Especially given how quickly he left, for the next town over. Jaskier could, instead, set up in the main room or the town square with his lute and play, and hope for some generosity from the townsfolk. The problem was that without his voice, he was limited to only the sound of his lute itself. Which, admittedly, was fantastic, but wasn't likely to earn him much of anything. Instrumental music was for banquets and noble halls, before the night moved on to more energetic entertainment. People in a little place like this looked to a bard for entertainment with jigs, melodramatic ballads, tales of adventure, and songs about maidens fucking farmboys. Jaskier could play a mean jig, but for the rest... well.

And anyway, doing that would mean actually playing, and thinking about it still made something twist up in his stomach.

No, not today, he thought, and snagged his tablet before heading to the door. Today, he would hope that the innkeeper or one of his neighbors would take pity on him and give him some sort of small job to do in exchange for food or a little bit of money. It wasn't something Jaskier was looking forward to, silently begging for the chance to do menial labor, but it wasn't like he had many options.

The innkeeper did have a few unskilled tasks that he usually had his daughter do alone, but he seemed to be perfectly happy to let Jaskier help with them in exchange for food, even giving him breakfast before setting him to work.

"That witcher of yours left you here without coin for food?" he'd asked, eyes narrowed, when Jaskier approached him. Jaskier shrugged, spreading his hands dramatically, trying to play it off as sort of a 'witchers, am I right?' situation. The innkeeper shook his head, grumbling. "Damn thoughtless creature," he'd said, and ushered Jaskier into a seat near the kitchen. Jaskier wanted to protest, to speak up in Geralt's defense, mention how careful Geralt had been up to this point, but once he was seated and eating porridge and sausage, he had to admit he didn't disagree.

Geralt had been damn thoughtless, and Jaskier was still fucking angry.

The chores were hardly complicated, even for him. Washing breakfast dishes, helping boil water for laundry (which he was allowed to drop his own dirty clothes into, and pointedly did not bring Geralt's down for), helping hang the laundry to dry. Not exactly easy, nor the sorts of chores he'd ever had to do growing up, but it was something to pass the time, and made him at least feel useful for the first time since the djinn. The innkeeper's daughter was seventeen, sharp as a whip, and named Hanna. She kept up a steady, if not constant, commentary throughout the day, giving her thoughts on what she wanted from life, how well (or poorly) Jaskier was doing at following her directions, and various gossip and theories about passing townsfolk that they could see from the back yard of the inn. She got him to laugh more than once with her sharp commentary, and he felt if they could've had a proper conversation he would've enjoyed her even more. She even shared her lunch with him, half a small loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and an apple that she imperiously demanded he slice for them, which made him laugh yet again.

(She'd started singing at one point, in the absent way people did when they were doing a familiar task, and he'd faltered in his movements hanging the laundry on the line, his hands frozen in the process of pinning someone's chemise up. He'd forgotten until that moment, despite not being able to answer her as she chatted, that he couldn't sing anymore. It hit him like a punch to the chest and for a long moment he felt like he couldn't breathe. Hanna hadn't said anything, but she must have noticed, and she resumed talking about the exploits of her friend Maja instead of her song, and didn't sing again. Jaskier felt guilty and grateful in equal measure for that.)

It was a good day, probably the first good day he'd had in... how long had it been, two weeks? Longer? The first good day since even before the lake, though he'd hoped briefly when he found Geralt that his day was getting better. More the fool him. But this day of feeling useful and not pitied was what he needed and Jaskier was very relaxed (if already sore and sweaty) by the time the late afternoon sun was warming him as he weeded the kitchen garden alone, Hanna having gone in to help start supper.

Or he was relaxed until the door to the kitchen was thrown open with a loud bang, and he briefly was grateful for his enforced silence because he can tell he would've just screeched embarrassingly otherwise. Geralt of fucking Rivia was the culprit, looking tensed for a fight. Jaskier barely had time to wonder what could possibly have gone so wrong while he was outside that Geralt was looking like that when Geralt's eyes locked on him, kneeling in the dirt with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a weed in his hand, and the tension seemed to bleed out of him. Not that anyone but Jaskier or maybe another witcher would've noticed, as little changed, but the feeling that Geralt was readying himself for a dust up dissipated.

Jaskier obviously couldn't say anything, but that was very far from anything he expected to happen, and he raised an eyebrow, not otherwise moving.

"Excuse me," Hanna's voice came from behind Geralt in the kitchen. "If you don't mind, sir witcher, we're busy in here. Go out or come in, but don't just stand there all in the way!"

Geralt half-turned with a startled frown, and Jaskier couldn't imagine the scathing look the girl must've been giving him that prompted him to simply grunt out a quiet "Sorry," before stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

Jaskier almost laughed at the disconcerted expression on Geralt's face in the wake of whatever look Hanna had subjected him to, before remembering why he was out here in the first place. Instead, he pressed his lips in a line, his good mood already fled in favor of lingering anger and resentment, and pointedly looked down and resumed weeding. Geralt walked closer and it occurred to Jaskier that he'd left his tablet upstairs after going to fetch his laundry, because he didn't want to risk it getting lost or stepped on, and Hanna hadn't needed it to get on just fine with him. Whatever conversation he had with Geralt right now was, by nature, going to be extremely one-sided, as Jaskier both couldn't talk to him and wasn't speaking to him.

Geralt stopped at the edge of the garden plot, a few feet away from where Jaskier was kneeling, and just... stood there. Jaskier'd intended to just let him stew until he felt like speaking up, but eventually the silent looming got to Jaskier, and he left off the weeding to sit back on his heels and spread his arms. What?

"You weren't there," Geralt rumbled, an inscrutable and alien (to Jaskier, anyway, which was actually pretty strange) expression on his face. Jaskier frowned slightly, then pushed himself to his feet and brushed his hands off on his trousers, eyes never leaving Geralt's face, and the expression he didn't recognize.

"You weren't there," Geralt repeats after a few beats of silence, clearly struggling to get words out. "There was all the paper talking about how angry you were, and your lute was there, and the wax tablets were there, and it didn't smell like you'd been there for hours."

Oh. Jaskier's shield around his heart cracks a little bit. The big idiot had been scared. Of something having happened to him, maybe, or of him having left, or something Jaskier can't think of, but the point was that Geralt was scared and had flipped out because of it, stormed the kitchen and threw open the backdoor to make sure Jaskier was there. There was "mad at him" and there was "being an ass to him", so Jaskier softened and reached out a hand to put on one of the arms Geralt had crossed protectively in front of his chest. A soft little exhalation escaped Geralt's lips, and Jaskier thought honestly if he was the sort of person who cried, Geralt might be crying from relief now. Jaskier had wanted Geralt to know and understand how angry he'd been last night, but he'd never really meant to scare or hurt him, so it was his turn to apologize. Not for being mad, he refused to apologize for that sort of thing, but for scaring him.

Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt's, dirt and sweat and all, and tugged him back towards the door. Geralt let himself be led, not taking his eyes off Jaskier as they moved. Jaskier waved and smiled apologetically to Hanna and her mother as they cut quickly through the kitchen, and saw the disdainfully disappointed look the innkeeper shot Geralt as they passed, and then it was upstairs and into their room. The pages that had been scattered on every surface were more or less in a pile on the bed, like Geralt had grabbed each one of them, read it, then grabbed the next and the next, before dropping them and racing out to find him. Which... was probably what had happened.

The giant idiot.

Jaskier unlinked their arms to move the papers, dropping them to the side of the bed carelessly, because frankly they didn't matter now that they'd been read, herded Geralt to the bed and pushed him to sit down, and then retrieved his tablet from the side table, rubbing his hands on his trousers again to keep any dirt from getting ground into the wax.

You're an idiot, was the first thing Jaskier wrote, turned around to show Geralt with fond exasperation. Geralt opened his mouth to respond and Jaskier held a finger up to stop him, adding more under it. And an ass. Geralt huffed, frustrated, and scowled slightly.

"Jaskier."

Oh, fine, he'd go faster and stop just listing things that Geralt, patently and provably, was. I'm angry, not stupid. What did you think happened?

"I don't know," Geralt grumbled with a faint grimace, not looking up at Jaskier's face. "The papers were ripped out of your journal. The messages seemed... desperate."

Jaskier sighed and sat on the bed next to Geralt, tucking one leg up under him, and smoothed the wax before starting in on a longish message.

You didn't look when I had a message to show you. This is my voice right now. I can't shout. Maybe throw it at your head but it might break. And you didn't think about how I would pay for anything, which was what I was trying to ask you. But you didn't look. You can't not look, Geralt. His handwriting wasn't great, admittedly, especially writing smaller, but it was readable when he held it out to Geralt.

"Hm," Geralt handed the tablet back, and Jaskier started smoothing the wax again. "I'm... sorry. It was thoughtless. You could've gotten hurt." He sounded sincere to Jaskier's ears, if a bit reluctant. Jaskier knew Geralt struggled to talk about his own feelings, let alone his fears. Jaskier had never known Geralt to talk about his fears, and while he hadn't said so explicitly, the fear that Jaskier could've gotten hurt, and it would've been Geralt's fault, seemed like an obvious jump from what he'd said. And really, it made sense. Geralt considered what happened to Jaskier's voice his fault. It would be him failing Jaskier again if anything but a truly spectacular meltdown and some laundry had happened while Geralt had been gone.

Jaskier bumped his shoulder up against Geralt's as he wrote, Geralt leaning in a little to watch the letters forming, and Jaskier's breath almost hitched from the smell of him so close in his space (even the sweat and horse that permeated him). Forgiven if you never do it again. Promise?

"I promise," Geralt responded even before Jaskier finished writing, solemn as anything. "I'll always look. If it needs to wait, I'll say. But I promise I'll look."

Jaskier patted Geralt's knee in acceptance and smiled. Good. Dinner. He stood, then stopped on his way to the door to quickly add, I earned dinner tonight. You can pay for baths. He showed Geralt and gave him a smug, cheeky grin, and Geralt's eyes flicked from the tablet to his face and met his eyes without response for just a moment too long to be entirely comfortable. Then the moment passed, and Geralt pushed himself to his feet.

"All right," he agreed. "You look like you've been rolling in the mud all day, you could use one." He chuckled at Jaskier's indignant expression and got a smack upside the head with the tablet as they made their way back downstairs.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #fic #my fic #voiceless jaskier au

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Justice Society of America #10 (1993)

Fact: Golden Age heroes didn't have penises.

I was starfished on my bedroom floor tonight staring at the ceiling and thinking about how in my teens and twenties, I could revel in it, thinking, "Who am I? Who will I become? What does life have in store for me?" But a grown ass man doing that simply thinks, "This is it, isn't it?" At least I can lose myself in reading comic books I've already read and which I didn't really enjoy that much the first time. It might sound like a waste of time but it gives my life meaning! The most shallow of meanings, sure. But at least I'm not growing old watching conservative news because I need anything at all to light my passion. I'll say this about Fox News: they understand how old people are so bored they'll watch the dumbest shit and then get mad about it. I know other people who aren't old also watch Fox News. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with them. I guess they have fears and hatreds I hope I'll never truly understand. I just don't understand watching Fox News (or any of the other non-propaganda 24 hour news sites). People do understand there are channels which show programs that make you laugh or feel merry or that simply entertain the other non-lizard parts of your brain, right? How do you pick Fox News when you can watch Sci-fi or Buzzr Comedy Central or the Ru-Paul's Drag Race all day channel? I just realized that the people who watch Fox News basically use Twitter the same way. The majority of my feed are funny people so even when they're discussing politics, it's always entertaining (or fiercely intelligent because witty people are smart. Dumb people think they're witty (see Mike Huckabee)). But when I check out the Twitter feeds of conservatives I know, at best they'll retweet a sports tweet sandwiched between forty retweets of Ben Shapiro and Dinesh Souza. Maybe they think some of the right wing pundits they follow are funny. But calling somebody a mean name or tagging everything "liberal tears" isn't funny. It's the kind of funny that the bully's weasely sidekick guffaws over and then says, "You tell 'em, Jimmy!" Speaking of things bullies would say, it's now time for me to criticize Len Strazewski's Justice Society. Previously, some old fart named Kulak made everybody in the world begin to hate. But they aren't just randomly hating everybody else. They really seem to be bonding over their hatred for the Justice Society of America. Is this story a metaphor about me and my hatred of this comic book? Because that would be a terrible metaphor seeing as how I don't really hate this comic. I wish I did though! I'm old and I need to feel passion! I bet if I hadn't dropped cable eighteen years ago, I'd be addicted to Fox News too! No, I wouldn't be. I'm as liberal as you can be while still making offensive jokes. So not really that liberal, I guess? Maybe I'm socially, economically, and politically liberal. But I'm a complete asshole when it comes to punchlines. Don't get me wrong! I don't make offensive jokes at the expense of people different than me. I make offensive jokes about myself and those Goddamned fucking babies. Fuck those parasitic monsters. This issue begins with Starman finally reappearing.

It really wasn't exciting enough for an announcement of his return. He's just another half-balding old guy. But it lets me talk about the DC Universe show, Stargirl!

I decided to watch Stargirl because what else am I going to do with my life? Finish reading Gravity's Rainbow? I mean, I am going to do that now that I'm done re-reading those awful Lando Calrissian books. But I can't spend all of time reading Pynchon! Just too much of it! I mean, I'm only 18 pages into Gravity's Rainbow (which is further than I've ever gotten on my previous three attempts!) and I'd estimate I don't understand 5% of the words he's used. And that's me being an English Lit major who has been a voracious reader his entire 48 years (minus the ones where I couldn't read yet. Like ten or something?). I was in bed reading and didn't have a dictionary at hand so I just powered through. But I think I need to go back through and learn all of those words so I can impress the local Starbucks barista! Or are people not impressed when you use a word they have nearly zero chance of knowing and don't know you enough to keep the conversation going by asking you what that means and instead just smile and nod and glance occasionally at the tip jar? Anyway, so I've watched three episodes so far and I'll tell you how I feel about it after I mention how I've actually watched four episodes. The first episode I watched, I was impressed with because Courtney was already palling around with a bunch of legacy JSA members and the Injustice Society was trying to tackle the "Who is Stargirl?" problem and I watched it thinking, "This is really impressive how they decided to start in the middle of the story like this. I like it!" Then I went to watch episode two and I was confused because it didn't seem to follow after the previous episode. So I kept thinking, "Maybe this is a flashback?" And then eighteen minutes into it, I thought, "Maybe I didn't watch the pilot episode. I'd better check." And I started watching the first episode which I totally hadn't seen. So I guess I started with Episode 7 or something. Here are some of my tweet-thoughts on the show for those who don't follow me on Twitter (why don't you follow me on twitter? What is wrong with you? Is it because you don't know I'm @GrunionGuy?): Tweet #1: "Sometimes you think maybe you're having inappropriate thoughts but then you check to make sure the actress playing a fifteen year old Stargirl is actually 21 and then you breathe a sigh of relief and think, 'I won't be cancelled today! Unless I tweet this experience, probably.'" Tweet #2: "Sometimes you think maybe you're having inappropriate thoughts but then remember it's okay to fuck a car that's been converted into a giant robot with Luke Wilson inside of it." Tweet #3: "3rd episode of Stargirl begins with a dying white woman's final wish to her white husband that he make the world safe for their white son. She dies and he goes out into the enormous hedge maze garden of his mansion to scream into the sky about the injustice of it all. All in all, a pretty good villain origin!" That third tweet was the only one that really makes any sort of socially acceptable commentary on the show. Saying things like "Stargirl's butt doesn't look like my mouth should be inside of it because she's fifteen although the actress is twenty-one so maybe it actually does look like that?" aren't the greatest things to admit even if you're just joking (which I am but just adding this statement makes it sound like I'm not but I totally am (that "totally" doesn't help but I assure you, I'm joking (did the hole just get deeper?))). I mean, sure, her body is super fit because she's a super hero (or will be?). But she has such a baby face! And even at twenty-one, she's just a baby! If I were younger, I'd totally have a crush on her. But I'm 48 and I just don't consider young women proper targets for my sexual deviance anymore. The only interaction I should have with young women these days is warning them against going out to the summer camp at the lake where that boy drowned so many years ago. The girls I had a crush on when I was younger (Christina Applegate (Kelly Bundy), Winona Ryder (Veronica Sawyer), and Stacie Mistysyn (Caitlin Ryan)), I have even more of a crush on now. Judging by the crushes I've had my whole life and not society's stereotype of women, women definitely get better looking as they get older. And probably as I get older. I'm sure that's part of it although I like to think that fifteen year old me would still look at these nearly fifty (or maybe fifty? I'm not so obsessed I know their ages but they're all around my age anyway) year old women and think, "Holy fuck mommy." I'm sorry for that last comment. But I'm only sorry to God not anybody who was reading this. Oh, I forgot to mention that Joel McHale is the original Starman (I mean original in the show although he's Sylvester Pemberton who was never Starman but only Skyman although in the show he was at one point the Star-Spangled Kid and Luke Wilson does mention Ted Knight at some point). And he's funny in his death scene just like he should be because I've obviously decides Sylvester is Jeff Winger's new superhero secret identity alias. Starman heads off with his Cosmic Buttplug to stop Kulak in Gotham City. He doesn't know it yet but the rest of his pals are currently battling Kulak and probably losing. Although Kulak is even older than they are so maybe it's a fair fight. I'm just surprised that a comic book where old men battle other old men has made it ten issues.

I think some editor was fired last issue and the new editor's only job was to make sure it didn't look like Thunderbolt had been speared through the asshole.

Although this editor seemed to think it was okay to have Hawkgirl fucked from behind by Kulak.

I hope this isn't a terrible conservative take on women that exposes how terrible I am at sex but even mind-controlled, I can't imagine licking a woman's shoulder would elicit that response. Although she could be "Ummming" from his pee-hee in her bee-boo.

I know conservative talking points are generally fucking idiotic but Ben Shapiro somehow thinking women can get "too wet" from sexual excitement might be the most hilariously idiotic. I don't think I've been with a woman who was all, "Yes! Yes! Lick my shoulder blade!" and I then I got super into it and then suddenly she was all, "Nope. Too wet. This isn't working for me anymore. I need a doctor, I guess?" Who am I kidding? I know I've never been with a woman who did that because that would mean I've had to have been with a woman! Also, women get wet down there? What's that about? Is it because the vagina cries at the sight of the penis? Kulak takes away all of their super powers but I guess he forgets that Wildcat doesn't have any so I'm hoping Wildcat just punches him in the face soon. Although that Starman bit probably was a hint at how the coming fight might end. You know, with Starman shoving his Cosmic Buttplug into Kulak's third eye, if you know what I'm saying. You probably do because I called it a Cosmic Buttplug. I should try to be more subtle. Kulak's entire purpose is to get revenge on the Justice Society for defeating him way back in 1940. Can't even one super villain just accept defeat and move on with their lives? Or are writers just always going to be so inherently lazy that they'll never give up the crutch of the villain attacking the hero directly out of revenge for that one single time they tried to actually commit a crime and were stopped? The JSA puts up a fight that helps to drain Kulak's power but it isn't until Starman arrives and does that thing I mentioned with his Cosmic Buttplug that Kulak is defeated.

This is the grossest orgasm I've ever seen and my computer is riddled with viruses from all of the previous ones I've watched.

After Kulak's defeat, Jesse Quick wraps up the issue with her super hero dissertation which is less a dissertation and more of a thorough cleaning of all of their asses with her tongue. She's all, "I didn't really do much research or define heroes too good but the Justice Society of America are my heroes so I deserver a degree, right?" Justice Society of America #10 Rating: B. This comic book was as average as they get. I suppose that should garner a C grade but a B grade just seems to say decent but mediocre. By the time I get down to a C grade, I feel like the comic book needs a lot more faults than "I don't really care about stories with heroes who are having strokes during the battles." It's a valid criticism but it's probably too subjective for a critical review. I know, I know! When has that ever stopped me before? Well, I feel charitable today. It probably has something to do with Mars being so close to the full moon earlier this week. My blood is all riled up and wacky!

#Justice Society of America #Stargirl #JSA #Len Strazewski #Mike Parobeck #Mike Machlan

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rptv-starwars · 4 years

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'The Empire Strikes Back' at 40: What the 'Star Wars' sequel's iconic special effects owe to Ray Harryhausen

By Ethan Altered-States (Ethan Alter)

Yahoo Entertainment, Yahoo Movies • May 27, 2020

https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/the-empire-strikes-back-star-wars-special-effects-ray-harryhausen-212159259.html

[article was edited for brevity, clarity, and to omit dumb commentary by the original author]

Dennis Muren poses with an AT-AT walker behind the scenes of The Empire Strikes Back. (Photo: Lucasfilm)

Both Ray Harryhausen [special effects creator prominent in the 1960s for stop-motion animation] and The Empire Strikes Back (ESB) are celebrating milestone anniversaries this year. 2020 marks the 100th birthday of Harryhausen, the special-effects pioneer behind vintage Hollywood spectacles like The 7th Voyage of Sinbad and Jason and the Argonauts, as well as the 40th anniversary of the second movie in the Star Wars original trilogy.

But they have more in common than the calendar year: The AT-ATs and Tauntauns that walk through ESB are inspired by Harryhausen’s menagerie of stop-motion creatures, from cyclopses to krakens. “They had character, they had performance and they had purpose,” says Dennis Muren, who parlayed a childhood spent watching Harryhausen’s films into a groundbreaking career as a Star Wars F/X legend. “They were wondrous to look at, and the designs of the shots were dynamic. Ray’s work grabbed you emotionally, because it began with him. I’m the same way: being emotionally connected to the performance and design of a character who, simply put, looks really neat.”

Currently the Senior Visual Effects Supervisor and Creative Director at Industrial Light & Magic (ILM), Muren first joined George Lucas’s pioneering visual effects studio in 1976, when it was still making and photographing spaceships in a Van Nuys warehouse. After the success of Star Wars (A New Hope), Muren followed ILM to the Bay Area as Lucas planned for a sequel. “It was the hardest film by far,” Muren says of how ESB came together behind the camera. “Everything just got bigger. The spirit of the film was still fun and adventure, but it had more romance, it had more action, the Empire was bigger and the universe was bigger than we thought on the first movie.”

Muren’s role also expanded with ESB as he took point on directing the fleet of miniatures in the film’s iconic opening on the ice planet, Hoth. With the advent of digital technology still many years away, Muren and his team brought the Rebel’s herd of tauntauns and the Empire’s squad of AT-AT walkers to life by hand. And through it all, he followed the example established by Harryhausen.

“I always think of the Cyclops from The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, who comes out of his cave roaring and angry, and his hands are up because he’s ready to grab one of the sailors,” explains Muren, who later won his first Oscar for his work on the film. (He currently has nine statues, the most of any living person.) “That’s what I always strive to put in my work: that there’s a reason for that creature to be there. You’re not just giving the audience an effect: You want them to feel something from it, whether that’s ‘Oh my God, that’s amazing,’ or ‘Oh, that’s really creepy,’ or ‘Wait, that’s impossible!’”

In honor of ESB's 40th anniversary, Muren walked us through the seemingly-impossible task of making the Hoth sequence, and his own close encounter with his F/X hero.

Yahoo "Entertainment": You said that The Empire Strikes Back was the hardest Star Wars film to make. What was the reason for the degree of difficulty?

Dennis Muren: Well, The Phantom Menace may have been equally difficult, because there was a lot of real groundbreaking work on that in terms of getting all the digital stuff to work. But we had two supervisors on that. For Empire, we had just moved up from Los Angeles, and only brought about 12 people up from the 50 in L.A. and had to hire locally just to get the thing done. All of us working on it wanted to top ourselves, and George had already done that with the designs. The number of lands and battles you saw in Empire was at least five times more than you saw in Star Wars. You had an ice planet and a city in the clouds — how are you going to get that to look right?

Doing any kind of compositing over a light-color background is very, very hard. And the whole movie was full of that in addition to your normal space battles. The vision was so big, and we had a couple of years to do it, but it took us so much time to get the fire to do it and the people to do it. We all wanted what George wanted, which was also what the audience wanted: to show you that this universe is so much bigger than what we saw in Star Wars.

Yahoo "Entertainment": What was the most challenging part of the Hoth sequence specifically?

Dennis Muren: The opening tauntaun shot was one of the most difficult things, and the most interesting. The story behind that was that George had brought back this helicopter shot from Norway [where the Hoth exteriors were filmed], and it was about 200 or 300-feet off the ground with the cameras looking straight down. He didn’t know whether if that shot was going to be necessary to the movie, but at the very end, he said, “Yes, it’s necessary to have this shot. Do you think there’s a way you can add a Tauntaun to this?”

There wasn’t! There were no tracking markers on the ground that would have helped us make the stop motion camera map exactly with the moves the helicopter made, and then we could have combined that with an optical printer. But none of that stuff was there. I thought about building a big model, but I didn’t think it would work with the background. George said, “Well, just think about it.” I spent 15 minutes thinking about it, and figured it out in 15 minutes! I learned an amazing lesson from that: There’s usually an answer, there’s always some way that you can fiddle around with what you know to attempt. If I had stopped thinking at 14 minutes and 59 seconds, we wouldn’t have had that shot in the movie.

Yahoo "Entertainment": The tauntauns definitely feel very Harryhausen in their design and behavior. Did their form match what you could accomplish then with stop-motion or did the stop-motion dictate their form?

Dennis Muren: George had the idea for a galloping horse kind of thing, and I think Ralph [McQuarrie] and Joe [Johnston] worked on the design. I was involved in how we were going to create a setting that looked like it was going to be real, and wouldn’t be encumbered by any of the cameras. I don't know how many shots we had of it — maybe 12 or 15 or something like that, and they were some of the last ones we did. There were a couple that George added right at the very end of that. It was like, “We can finally take a breather after two years, but no, there’s one more shot!”

Dennis Muren (behind the camera) filming Suzanne Pasteur (a friend of Lorne Peterson's) on her horse for tauntaun movement reference. (Photo: Lucasfilm)

Yahoo "Entertainment": I remember connecting to them very strongly as a kid — I always through they’d be fun to ride.

Dennis Muren: That comes from the design and purpose of it. It doesn’t act like an evil creature: It’s a fairly big, bulky thing and it actually looks kind of cute with a horn and steam coming out of its nose. It’s not a creature that could kidnap you or anything — it’s just a beast of burden. That’s true of all the Star Wars movies: The behavior is familiar, so the audience can relate. Even with the designs of the spaceships; I tried to show how they would bank off to fly to another planet or something, like an airplane would do in the air even though there’s not gravity in space and that would never happen. It looks really neat and you can relate to it.

Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) on a tauntaun on the planet Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back. (Photo: Lucasfilm)

Yahoo "Entertainment": In terms of the AT-AT walkers, that’s a case where you’re bringing character to a non-living thing. There’s behind-the-scenes footage of the ILM team studying elephants for movement reference.

Dennis Muren: When we saw the designs, we thought they were kind of like big animals. We went to an animal park in Dunn, California, and put a bunch of chalk marks on the elephant and had it walk by left to right and right to left with the camera on. That gave us the weight; those things would have weighed thousands of tons, and we had to make it look like they had gravity or else they were just going to look silly — not as powerful and as evil as they're supposed to look. We also shot the elephants in slow motion to make them look even bigger, and observed traits like how far up the knee goes up and how far forward the body travels. Does the foot just lift up? Does it drop back down again? All that stuff was used as a basis so that when we went to animate, we had a body part to do that.

We also had some really good equipment to look at the frames as we were shooting them and make sure the animation was working well. Like now, there's all sorts of stop-motion photographers, and ours wasn’t done like Ray would have done it where you couldn’t tell if you made a mistake and could go back and say, “Did I move this too far?” We were able to compare and say, “Oh yeah, we did move it too far,” and then change it to move to a better place. So it's probably more of a fluid motion than you might have seen before and that was important. Any sort of chatter in the stop-motion looks like the mechanics of the walkers. They're all mechanical anyway, so there's got to be little bumps and grinds in the motors. So that adds to the feeling, you know?

Yahoo "Entertainment": Besides Hoth, what was your favorite sequence to work on?

Dennis Muren: I don’t know — they’re all so different! [Laughs] I really like the asteroid sequence; that might top Hoth a little bit. It was also really difficult, but a lot of fun to do. George wasn’t interested in the beats of the action, but the attitude. It had to have a certain clarity to see what was going on, which was difficult because the asteroids were coming in from any direction. I did a mock-up of that sequence and realized that everything had to be based on the Millennium Falcon blasting through the asteroids. We came up with the idea of having all the asteroids going in one direction, from one side of the screen to the other, and then you could show how the Falcon makes evasive maneuvers.

Yahoo "Entertainment": Did you get a chance to meet Ray Harryhausen before his death in 2013?

Dennis Muren: Oh, yes. I was probably about 14 at the time, and he used to be in the phone book as was almost everybody else in those days in L.A. I called him up, and he was living up in Malibu, so my mom drove me two hours up to his house, and I met him and his wife. They were just the nicest couple in the world. They invited me in for an hour or two, and we kept in touch. As I got older, I went back to his garage and showed him my home movies, and he showed me some of his early home movies. He was a kindred soul. He later moved to England, so I didn’t see him very often after that.

Special effects legend Ray Harryhausen working on a model for a Clash of the Titans character. (Photo: Courtesy Everett Collection)

Yahoo "Entertainment": Did he ever visit you while you were making Star Wars or Empire?

Dennis Muren: No, but I did see him while I was working on Dragonslayer. We were at the same studio in England, and he was making Clash of the Titans. I think I brought him by to show him the dragon, and the rear-projection work. We were working on the next step beyond stop-motion, which was the combination of animation with a motion-controlled motorized camera. He didn’t entirely relate to that, and I can understand why: It could take five days if you’re lucky to get a full shot. At the end of the day, [his method] didn’t have quite the realism that ours ended up having, but he also had the energy to just get in there and grab the figure with his hand and spend the next eight hour animating it.

After Empire and things like the Tauntaun sequence especially, I realized that we needed to get away from stop motion and try and look for something else. I would say that we didn't get the tauntaun to move quite as much as we wanted to, and there were some shots that we didn’t quite finish. But George was utterly accommodating about everything, and there was a feeling of real accomplishment when it was all over. Empire just opened everything up: You can see there’s a lot more stories you can tell, and they’re still going on.

#star wars #empire strikes back #empire40th #ray harryhausen #george lucas #lucasfilm #yahoo news #stop-motion #80s movies #i love the 80's #denis muren

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dracoqueen22 · 4 years

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[CR] Bloodlines 03

Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two, Alternate Universe, Bloodlines Characters: Fjord, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay, The Fletching and Moondrop Circus Rated: K+ Description: A simple twist of fate and betrayal lands Fjord in the path of the good ship Moondrop and her crew of traveling circusfolk, including one Mollymauk Tealeaf. Between Jester and Toya, it's hard to say who shines the brightest aboard the Fletching. Toya's youth gives her an edge, but Jester's perpetual cheer is simultaneously infectious and hard to beat. They're both impossible to hate. Which is why Molly finds it frustrating to watch Jester flirt with their new crewmate, and only feel the urge to cheer her on. May the best tiefling win or some such. Though he gets the feeling Jester's not opposed to sharing.

Fjord, for his part, has spent most of the morning getting a lesson in navigation from Ornna. Better him than Molly. She'd tried to teach him once, but Molly had been less than interested, and anyway, he preferred his navigational instincts rather than the math involved with stars and positioning. Fjord, apparently, seems to have something of a knack for it. Good for him. But now Ornna's sent him on his way, only for Fjord to be intercepted by Jester, and just like everyone else on the ship, Fjord can't turn her away. "Fjord!" she calls, singsong and cheerful, skipping up to him, her cheeks flush and her hair wild around her face. It's a windy day, and the lot of them are tousled with it and seaspray. "Let me give you a tattoo!" "What?" Fjord asks, clearly flustered, and Molly supposes he can't blame him. Jester can be a lot to take in at first. Sometimes forgets the conversations she's having in her head, aren't the same ones she's having aloud. "A tattoo!" Jester beams and tucks her hands behind her back. She circles Fjord as if assessing the best landscape for her artistic talents. "I'm really good at them. I promise. I did some of Molly's you know." "You did?" "Yep." Molly, watching from afar -- a deck higher to be precise -- touches the nape of his neck, where the pyramid she'd done for him sits. She'd been so excited to practice her craft, and Molly had no problem letting her try. She could be very convincing. "Ah, well, that's nice of you to offer," Fjord drawls, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, finding everywhere interesting to look at but Jester's face. "And it's not that I don't believe you, I just don't want a tattoo right now, if that's all right." Jester's face falls, but only for a moment, before it's washed away in another blinding smile. "Aww, that's okay. Let me know if you change your mind, okay? You won't regret it." "I'm sure I won't." "Shouldn't you be working?" Molly startles and swallows the urge to leap back into his duties. It's only Yasha, after all, not Bosun or Gustav. His tail swishes, agitated. "I'm on a break," Molly says as Yasha steps up beside him, leaning on the rail and following his gaze with a tilt of her head. The corner of Yasha's mouth curves into the smallest of smiles. "You're always on a break," she says, completely deadpan, and Molly thinks he might be the only one who really sees how humorous she is beneath the surface. "Good point." Molly watches Jester grab Fjord's hand and tow him somewhere, something she does with ease given that she's freakishly strong. Fjord stumbles after her, token protests falling from his lips, but he looks more charmed than annoyed. Molly doesn't know if it's Jester or the heat which has Fjord so flushed. Maybe both. "You were up early," Yasha says, the kind of way someone says 'the sky is cloudy today' or 'there's salt in the ocean'. It's a statement of fact, not really a question, but oh. There's definitely a question in it. "Mmm," Molly says, which is as much of an answer as Yasha's words had been a question. Yasha shifts, sword clanking against her back because she never goes without it, not even aboard the ship. "Tell me why?" The thing about Yasha is that she doesn't judge, and she doesn't push, and if he says 'no' she'll back off and she won't ask again. She doesn't offer advice or commentary unless it's obvious you want it, and no matter what Molly has or hasn't told her, he's yet to make her blink. She's a stable rock in an otherwise unstable landslide. Molly sighs and turns his back to the railing, hooking his elbows across it to keep his balance. There's no Fjord to watch anymore anyway. "Nightmare." "Something you remembered?" "No. More like..." Molly pauses, twisting his jaw, trying to find words for the formless black, the voice commanding him with single words, but not offering an explanation. "Something is trying to talk to me. But it's using the creepiest, most intimidating way to do it." Yasha chuckles quietly. "Sounds pretty normal to me." Molly rolls his eyes and pokes her in the shoulder. "Of course it does. You serve the Storm Lord." "Maybe it's a god then." "Maybe." Molly shrugs. Worshipping the gods isn't really something he's gotten behind since he woke up. He's fascinated by the idea of it, but the practice? Maybe not. Yasha clasps him on the shoulder and offers one of her patented smiles. “The answer will come to you when you need it, I’m sure.” She squeezes his shoulder before stepping back, restoring her usual personal boundaries. “What about you? What was up with last night?” "I think it was a test," Yasha says. "What kind of test is that?" Molly asks, because damn. If that's what it means to serve a god, maybe he's better off as he is. Yasha rolls her shoulders and cracks her knuckles. "I don't know. But I think I passed." She looks up, into the clear blue sky without a hint of the storm which had rocked their ship last night. "If I didn't, he'll probably let me know." Damn. "Between you and Jester, I don't know whose god is sketchiest." Molly doesn't trust that Traveler one bit, and finds his interest in Jester highly suspect. The Traveler is as suspicious as they come, which is saying a lot, since Mollymauk has no memory and makes his living as a member of a sea-faring circus. "He saved me, Molly." "Yeah, I know." Molly pushes off the railing, stretching his arms over his head. "Still don't trust him." Yasha chuckles. "I suppose from the outside it does look a little... wrong. But I do owe him my life, and so I'll pay him back however I can." "I just hope it's not a price you don't want to pay." Molly scrubs his hands down his face before he gives them a shake. "Anyway. Enough gloom and doom. We have work to do, don't we?" "Peeling potatoes with Caduceus, if I remember," Yasha reminds him. Mmm. Mr. Clay. It's a torment that they've put so many fine-looking and charming individuals all on this one ship. Molly enjoys time spent in Mr. Clay's company, if only because no matter how outrageous and flirtatious he gets, Clay takes it in stride. Just gives him that slow blink, that slow smile which makes Molly's toes curl, and says 'you're very entertaining, Mr. Tealeaf' and ahh, it's rewarding. "Nice of him to spell Desmond and cook for us," Molly says as he scratches the side of his cheek. "Guess I'd better go help." Yasha laughs, quiet as it is. "If you were any more eager, your tail would be wagging." Well. She's not wrong. ~ "How'd you end up on this ship anyway?" Fjord asks. Jester shrugs and peers harder at the torn sail. Maybe it'll be easier if she tries the cantrip the Traveler taught her, the mending one? "I kind of got in trouble," she says, and cuts the thick thread on her teeth before guiding it through the end of the needle. "I had to get away from home fast, and this was the only ship willing to take on a passenger who was in trouble." Fjord blinks at her. "What kind of trouble?" Jester laughs. "Well, I kind of played a prank, and even though I thought it was really funny, and everyone else did too, the other person didn't. And he was important, you know. So now if he sees me, he'll uh. Kill me." She shrugs again. "That sounds a little harsh." "You're telling me!" Jester exclaims, and curses when the end of the thread avoids the eye of the needle again. Stupid thing. Why had she volunteered to help with this? "So your plan is to stay on the ship?" "For now." Jester huffs and holds the needle out to Fjord. "Can you do this?" He takes it from her with a soft laugh and easily threads the thick thread. It’s unfair. She’s been struggling with that for at least five minutes. "Here you go." "How'd you get so good at that?" It's Fjord's turn to shrug, though a flush spreads across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks, darkening his skin. He ducks his head, hiding from her question. He's so handsome. Just like Jester imagines Oskar would be, though she’s got the feeling she can’t tell Fjord that. It’d just embarrass him. “It’s an important skill for survival,” Fjord says, bent over the piece of sail, focused on his stitching though his hands move in an easy, deft pattern that kind of reminds her of a wizard casting spells. “I was taught a lot of things like this as a kid.” Jester tilts her head. “Isn’t it easier to buy a new one?” That’s what she’d do, and that’s a lot of what they did at the Lavish Chateau. People expect a specific elegance from the Chateau, and having mended linens around didn’t really match their expectation. Fjord frowns, his forehead crinkling in a way that makes him seem older. “I don’t think it’s that easy, Jester.” He gestures to the sailcloth tarp, which is an amalgam of assorted colors and patterns, and a chaotic mess if you ask Jester. “If I had to guess, they’ve been patching this thing for years. Probably because it’s cheaper than replacing it.” “Oh. I guess you’re right.” Jester bends over the tear on her side of the sailcloth and tries to stitch it, just like Mama showed her. She’s not as good at it as Mama though. “Maybe I’ll buy them one as a gift.” “Are you going to stay with them?” Fjord’s stitches are so much neater than hers. Jester watches him for a long minute, trying to copy the movements of his hands and failing miserably. Drat. Maybe when she prays later, she can ask the Traveler to teach her how to be better at this. “Jester?” “Oh, sorry, I spaced out. Um. I don’t really know,” Jester says. She pauses, fiddling with a loose thread within reach. “I want to find my dad, and if staying on the ship makes that easier, then I will. Or maybe I should look on foot? I don’t know what’s better. I’m kind of new to this.” “This? You mean, ship-life?” Fjord asks. “No, I mean… um… life-life?” Jester’s not sure how to phrase it in a way that makes sense. “I didn’t get out much when I was little, so I don’t know the best way to do things. I know a lot,” she’s quick to correct because she doesn’t want Fjord to think she’s stupid, “but sometimes maybe not enough.” Fjord blinks at her. He cuts the thread with a talon and ties it into a neat knot. “You’re trying to find your dad? Do you know where he is?” “Nope!” Jester pops the word and grins, and jingle-jingle goes the bell she tied to the tip of her tail this morning. “Mama says he’s a dashing man, and he’s very brave and smart, but I don’t know where he is.” "Do you know his name?" "Yep. It's Babenon." Jester peers at Fjord, looking to see if there's any recognition in his face, and is disappointed to find blank curiosity. "Guess you haven't heard of him?" Fjord shakes his head. "Sorry, I haven't. Didn't get out much myself. We tended to keep to ourselves." "We?" Jester echoes and leans forward, eager for the tiniest tidbit of information about Fjord's past. "My clan," Fjord answers, distracted by his sewing and answering maybe more than he usually would. "We weren’t very big, and we stuck close to home to be safe, other than going into town for supplies. We knew better than to... uh..." He pauses and coughs into his hand. "Anyway, we didn't draw attention to ourselves." “Why not?” “We just didn’t.” Fjord ties off another thread and runs his finger over the stitch. “This should hold for awhile. I’ll get this to Bosun and see what they want me to do next.” He gathers up the repaired sailcloth and stands, a haphazard bundle of cloth in his arms. Jester knows a hamfisted escape when she sees one. “Okay, well if you need help with something else, you know where to find me,” Jester calls after him as Fjord nearly trips over the sailcloth in his haste to get away. At least he looks as good leaving as he does arriving. Sweet ass on that one. Jester whistles quietly, a small grin on her lips, and then she gets up and dusts off her dress. Time to find Caduceus and share the details. He’s as curious about their new arrival as she is, and they’ve made a secret pact to snoop. Of course, he’s much better at it than she is, but hah. He probably doesn’t know this! Score one for Jester. Oh, and the Traveler, too. ~ The days pass quicker than expected. Life aboard a seafaring vessel is never boring, and there is always work to be done. Patching and surveying and cleaning and cooking and peeling and navigating. Fjord learns a little bit of everything, and does a little bit of everything, tucked under the wing of every member of the crew, even Toya. Klyre is the only one Fjord never sees or interacts with. He spends most of the day asleep belowdeck, and only emerges at night, when he joins the crew for dinner. Family meals are apparently a Thing, and dinner the most sacred of them all. Dinner and music and dancing and practice. Lots of practice. Fjord is usually ushered to the other side of the ship when they are practicing their acts. Molly insists it's necessary, to maintain the mystery and the surprise. He's usually clustered with Caduceus and Jester, neither of whom are actually members of the crew, but help out as they see fit, to stave off boredom. "What're you going to do when we dock?" Fjord asks the firbolg as Caduceus sits cross-legged on the deck, a staff laying across his knees, and a small block of wood in his hands. Small shavings litter the deck around him. "I don't know yet," Caduceus says, and the act of not-knowing doesn't seem to bother him. He just hums to himself. "I've not been told." Fjord stares at him. "You haven't been told? By who?" "The Wildmother. She's guiding me toward the answers I need." "Caduceus' home is sick," Jester says as she leans over to watch Caduceus work with fascination in her eyes. "His whole family is out in the world, trying to fix it." "Sick how?" Jester shrugs. "We don't understand it. But there's a darkness. Something infecting the land." Caduceus' nose wrinkles, a comical sight on a firebolg. "It must be stopped." Caduceus is weird. Then again, everyone on this ship is weird in some way. Fjord likes to think he's the only normal one, but the full moon is in a week after all. It’ll hit after they dock, but a few days late, and he'll have his own weirdness to show. "Well, I hope you find an answer," Fjord says. "Me, too." Scraaaape goes the small knife and another curl of wood flutters to the deck. "What about you, Mr. Fjord?" He sits back, braces his hands behind him, and stares into the blue sky, the sun beating down on his face. The sails are full, and the flags ripple in the strong winds. "I don't know. I guess I'm waiting for someone to tell me, too." "You'll stay and watch the performance though, won't you?" Jester picks the shavings, gathering them up in her skirt. "I suppose I should," Fjord says. "It's only four copper a ticket," a voice says from above them. Fjord twists to look as Molly vaults over the railing and lands with a quiet tap-tap of bare feet beside Fjord and into a crouch. "But I might be able to swing you a discount." Jester frowns. "You said you'd get us in for free, Molly." Molly drops into a crouch, his tail twitching playfully behind him. "Did I? I don't remember." He grins cheekily, flashing those canines at Jester, who sticks her tongue out at him. "Shouldn't you be practicing?" Fjord asks. Molly grins. "And what do you think my act is, hm?" That's a fairly good question. Fjord has little idea what the other acts are. He knows Toya sings, and Desmond plays music. He hasn't a clue what the twins do, and suspects Ornna does something with fire, though he's not sure what. Yasha is a complete mystery to him. "Are you the one who tells the jokes?" Jester asks with a giggle. "No, that's Yasha. She's the charm." Molly plops down on his ass, curling his legs in lotus. He twists his wrists, flicks his fingers, and a deck of cards appears from nowhere. "These are where my talents lie." Fjord leans in. "What are they?" "Why, Fjord, have you never had your fortune told? What a sheltered life you must have led." His tail swings around and taps Fjord's shoulder. "Shall I give you a reading now?" Jester's eyes go wide and bright. "Oooo. Can I be next?" She waves one hand in the air, wood shavings spilling from her dress. She squeaks and tries to scoop them up. "Hm," Caduceus says. "Interesting." "Do you not believe in the cards, Mr. Clay?" Molly asks, but there's something sly in his tone and the way he tilts his head at the firbolg. Is he flirting? "I believe faith is a powerful thing, no matter what you have it in," Caduceus demurs. Very diplomatic of him. Fjord squeezes the back of his neck. "Uh, why don't ya let Jester give it a try first? She seems more excited than me." "If you insist," Molly says. "But only the first one's free. After that, you have to cough up the coin.” Jester laughs. "He doesn't have any coin, Molly." "There are other ways to pay, my dear." Molly winks lasciviously, and while Fjord's face flushes with heat, Jester laughs as if a salacious flirt doesn't bother her. Everyone here is so open about the things they do and don’t like. It’s a novelty to Fjord. It’s not that his clan was closed off, but their idea of affection shared was far more discreet, and every one had their mysteries, their reasons for speaking in riddles. Maybe that’s what led to their end. Jester scoots forward, until she’s sitting in front of Molly, who’s shuffling the deck with practiced ease, the colorful cards dancing through his fingers. “What are you wanting to ask today?” Molly asks as he flicks the cards from one hand to the other, his tail swaying cat-like, his blood-red eyes hauntingly focused on Jester. “Your future? Your path? Romance?” With this, his grin turns sly, and his eyes flick toward Fjord. He winks. Fjord flushes and wishes he had somewhere else to put his hands. “Hmm.” Jester taps her chin with one finger. “You know me, Molly. Tell me if my Oskar is out there waiting for me.” Molly chuckles and rests the deck of cards in front of Jester, face down. He taps the deck. “Cut the cards for me.” Jester all but wriggles as she obeys before Molly scoops up the deck. He hums a nonsense tune to himself and starts to pull out cards one by one, laying them in front of Jester, face down. There are nine of them, in three rows of three. “Alright,” Molly says as he sets the deck off to the side. He waves his hands over the spread. “Pick three. And choose wisely.” His words are sing-song, playful, but there’s intent in the way he watches both Jester and the cards. Jester nibbles on her bottom lip, looking torn. Fjord sneaks a glance at Caduceus, who busily works at the block of wood, but he’s watching the display with keen interest. Jester hovers over the cards before she picks the three right up the middle, drawing a line from herself to Molly, who grins at her. “Let’s see what the cards have to say,” he says, as he flips over the one closest to Jester first, revealing a woman kneeling next to a glittering lake, her skin a dusky red and a crown of black curls spilling from her head. She’s smiling as she kneels to scoop water with a plain, brown jug. “The Star.” Molly taps the shining beacon of light glowing above the woman’s head. “You have a good intuition, I see. A good instinct. You don’t fear to venture into the unknown, but you know well enough to keep your feet planted.” Jester’s eyes round. She leans forward, her elbows on her knees. "Yeah, that's me but what does it mean about my Oskar?" Molly chuckles. "I'm getting to that." He drops his voice, as if telling a secret. "Trust your instincts, Jester. You'll know him when you see him." Jester looses a little squeal of delight. "Can they tell me where?" "Let's find out." Molly flips the next card, revealing a handsome tiefling, dressed like a wizard, their gender indeterminate. They’re looking upward as seven jeweled cups dance above their head. “Hmm. The Seven of Cups, not a location, but a warning.” Jester’s lower lip wobbles. “What do you mean?” Fjord barely hides a snort. It sounds like bullshit. There’s no real information here. Molly’s telling Jester things she already knows, and the rest is vague enough to convince her something mystical is going on. “Well…” Molly sighs and casts her a look from under his eyelashes. “While you should trust your instincts, you need to be cautious, too. Don’t confuse wishful thinking with instinct.” He tilts his head with a wry grin. “Don’t fall for the first pretty face you see. People wear masks.” Jester squirms and makes a sad noise. “How am I supposed to tell the difference between what my gut is telling me and what’s not real?” Molly leans his chin on one fist, elbow balanced against a bent knee. “That’s a good question. I haven’t figured it out myself.” Jester’s lower lip juts out in a pout before she abruptly reaches for the remaining card. “What’s the last one say?” she asks as she flips it over and releases a giggle of delight. On it, two people embrace, the colors soft and intimate, lovely lines of scrollwork chasing each other around the frame. “The Lovers.” Molly sounds like the cat who caught the canary, his lips pulling wide into a grin. “It doesn’t mean what you think it means, but it’s still good news. You’ll find your Oskar in someone you trust completely, someone you feel comfortable around, someone who makes you feel safe and happy and brave enough to be yourself. They’ll love everything about you, from the tips of your horns to the tips of your feet.” Fjord doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a smile on Jester’s face. Her eyes sparkle. She lovingly strokes the card with a wistful, hopeful look. “Oskar’s out there somewhere,” she says. “That’s good enough for me.” She leans over the cards, disturbing them with the pleats of her skirt, and plants a sloppy kiss on Molly’s cheek. “Thanks, Molly. This was fun.” “It was enlightening,” Caduceus says as the little knife goes scrape-scrape-scrape and a visible shape takes form in the wood, something with a face and flowing hair. Molly gathers up the cards, but then he sneaks a sideways glance at Fjord. “What about you? Impressed or not? Awful silent over there, Fjord.” “It’s a fine skill you have,” Fjord says, trying to be diplomatic without disappointing Molly and wiping that smile from Jester’s face. She believes, and Fjord has no doubt the other people Molly swindled believed, too. Belief can be a powerful thing in the right circumstances. Fjord wonders if he believes strong enough, Vandren will still be alive. “I’m sure you make lots of coin,” Fjord finishes. Molly rolls his eyes, and Jester shakes her head. “That’s no fun at all,” she says, and starts digging around in her pouch. “Come on, Molly. Do a reading for him. I’ll bet he’ll change his mind once you answer one of his questions.” “No, really, that’s not--” “Save your coin, Jester.” Molly cuts off Fjord’s stammering protests. “If Fjord is truly interested, he can have a reading for free. Consider it a roommate’s privilege.” “Mollymauk!” Ornna’s bellow echoes across the ship, despite the splash of the water and the roar of the wind. Molly twitches and ducks his head, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He gathers up his cards, stuffing them in his pocket. “Coming!” he shouts, and Fjord cringes at the volume of his voice, even as he fights off a laugh. Sometimes, the whole crew reminds him of his clan, how they may not be blood-related, but they are family nonetheless, circling around their father-figure, deferent to their parental figures, teasing and poking at one another to gauge reactions, willing to step in and step up when duties call, surrounded by siblings of all shapes and sizes... A sharp ache echoes through Fjord’s chest. He sinks into himself, ducking his head, as Molly flounces off, answering Ornna’s call, shouting something back that’s a rush in Fjord’s ears. His home is ash and blood now. Did anything survive? Are their homes just burnt husks? Their main hall an ashy ruin? Did any of the others survive? Is Vandren dead? Did Avantika get what she want, whatever it is? He needs to find out. He almost doesn’t want to find out. Not knowing is better than knowing, in a way, because then he can still hope. “Fjord, are you all right?” Fjord blinks and summons a smile for Jester. He’s always been good at pretending. “I’m fine. Just thought I remembered something is all.” He climbs to his feet, dusts off his pants. “Think I’m going to go below deck, see what’s on the menu for lunch.” “Okay,” Jester gives him a worried glance, Caduceus a knowing one. If he stays with them too long, Fjord might not want to leave. So he escapes belowdeck to help Toya with lunch -- she practices after -- and tries not to think about what his future will bring. ~ “We’ll reach port tomorrow,” Molly says as they sit up in the Crow’s Nest. He’s looking over the distant horizon, dark night meeting the dark line of the ocean, his eyes glittering in the light of the moon. It’s a cloudless night, the sky speckled with countless stars. This high up, with the constant lurching sway of the ship, it almost feels like they’re flying. Fjord got a little motion-sick, at first, but he’d sniffed some bag of herbs Caduceus pressed into his hand, and the clench of his belly eased. That firbolg sure knows what he’s talking about. “Figured out what you’re going to do yet?” Molly asks. Fjord licks his lips, tastes the salt of the sea wind on them. “I’ll stick around for the show. Promise. I want to see what you all are keeping so secret.” Molly laughs, and it’s quiet and genuine, and it makes something warm build in Fjord’s belly. Like the comfort and the easy welcome the whole crew has given him from the beginning. “You’ll let me give you a reading?” Molly asks. “Depends on how much it’ll cost me,” Fjord says. Molly grins and toys with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll do it for free. Because you’re so cute.” Heat steals across Fjord’s cheeks and to the tips of his ears. Molly is an outrageous flirt, so he doesn’t take it to heart, but still. It’s nice to get a compliment anyway. "I ain't all that, but I appreciate you saying so anyway," Fjord says. He rubs the back of his neck and stares out at the sea. "You'll be glad to have your room to yourself again, I'll bet." "Mm. There are benefits to sharing." Molly toys with one of the dangling bits on his horns. "It was nice to have company. Your company as a matter of fact." “You said I snore,” Fjord points out. Molly laughs, loud enough for it carry to the deck below if anyone is listening. “You do. But I can get over that.” He leans against the rail, the wind rustling his hair, the starlight glinting off his jewelry. “I think you belong with us. Lost fae from the Faewild would be a good fit here.” He gives Fjord a pointed look. Fjord chuckles. “Nope. Not a fae.” “Damn. I’ll figure you out eventually.” Molly stretches his arms over his head, his tunic riding up, baring his belly and the thick, silvered line of a scar before the fabric drops down again. Fjord pretends he isn’t ogling. “You just might,” Fjord says, coughing into his hand. “Appreciate the offer, I really do, but I don’t think I’m gonna find my answers on the sea.” “Answers to what?” “To the reason you had to fish me out of the ocean,” Fjord hedges. “I think those answers are gonna be on land somewhere, and I gotta go back to where it started.” Molly hums in his throat, and his blood-red gaze focuses on Fjord, piercing enough to make him squirm. “I can’t fault you that. If I knew where it started, I’d go back, too.” He picks at his talons. “Was fun while it lasted.” “Yeah, it was.” There’s an ache in his heart Fjord can’t really explain. He’s only known these folk for a week or so, but they’ve all climbed under his skin. They remind him so much of his clan. If he didn’t think Avantika was still out there, if she didn’t need to pay for what she’s done, Fjord might have chosen to linger longer. Molly lightly slaps Fjord’s knee and abruptly stands. “Enough of this melancholy. Let’s go finish that bottle I swiped from Bosun.” “Why?” Fjord asks. Molly swings over the side of the Crow’s Nest as nimbly as an acrobat, and peers over the edge at Fjord with a wink. “Why not?” he chirps, and starts to descend with no trouble at all. Fjord is a lot less graceful about it. He misses his last step and lands with a clumsy thud onto the desk. He stumbles, but then Molly is there, grabbing his shoulders, steadying him. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink, eh? You seem a little unsteady already,” he says with a toothy grin, and a sparkle in his eyes. He’s beautiful, Fjord realizes in a flash, not that he hasn’t noticed before. There are far too many attractive people on this ship, but Molly is in a league of his own. “Guess I’m just not cut out to be a sailor,” Fjord says with a little, anxious laugh. Molly’s hands are still on his shoulders, and he’s not in any hurry to shake them off. “You just need practice,” Molly says. “Fjord! Molly! What’re you doing?” Jester’s voice cuts through the night, and Fjord coughs to clear his throat, pulling away from Molly and scrubbing the back of his neck. “Nearly breaking my neck it seems,” Fjord says as Jester’s head pops into view. She’s peering up at them from the lower deck. Some kind of white powder dusts her cheeks. “He exaggerates.” Molly hops down to Jester’s level, crouching near the open flap. “What’s up, buttercup?” Jester giggles and gives them a mischievous look. “Guess what Caduceus made?” “Mushroom soup?” Molly asks as Fjord climbs down toward them at a slower pace, using the ladder rather than hopping over the rail as Molly had done. “Not this time.” Jester’s voice is sing-song, her eyes bright, and Fjord would bet all the coin in his pocket, her tail is swishing back and forth. “He made, get this, cocoa and cookies.” She quiets her voice conspiratorially. “I’ve been looking all over for you two so you can have some, too.” “That’s mighty kind of you, Jester,” Fjord says as he finally catches up. She winks at him. “Much better than whatever gross liquor Molly was going to feed you, I promise. Come on! Or I’ll eat it all!” Her head vanishes as she drops belowdeck. “What do you say, Fjord?” Molly asks as he looks up at Fjord, grinning, his tail whipping out and smacking Fjord on the calf. “Liquor or cocoa?” “I think it would be rude to turn down her invitation, don’t you?” Fjord grabs the ladder and starts to descend, gripping the rungs tightly. “I mean, she looked so hard for us and all.” Molly laughs and cradles his chin in his palm. “And Deuces makes delicious cookies. Would be a shame to let her eat them all.” “My thoughts exactly.” Fjord steps off the last rung, and Molly drops down beside him, landing cat-like and with ease, his bare feet seemingly unbothered by the rough wood decking. Fjord can’t remember the last time he saw Molly wearing boots. Or has he? “We’ll save the bottle for another time,” Molly says, striding ahead of him, a happy bob to his steps, his tail flicking through the air like it’s inviting Fjord to follow. “Sure,” Fjord says, as his heart tries to pick up speed, and he tells himself to stop. Stop it now. He doesn’t have time for this. Molly’s just a friend. They join Caduceus and Jester in the galley, and Yasha’s there, too, already seated with her hands cupped around a thick mug, a bit of chocolate and crumbs at the corner of her mouth. Jester’s giggling as she tries to peer around Caduceus’ tall frame, her hands behind her back, maybe she’s been reprimanded already. Though it’s hard to imagine Caduceus using any kind of stern tone. “You can relax everyone. The fun has arrived,” Molly announces as he slides onto the bench beside Yasha and drapes himself against her side like a cat demanding affection. “Hello, my dear. Not on watch tonight?” “In a bit. I wanted some cocoa first,” Yasha says. “Here Fjord. Have some!” Jester appears at Fjord’s side, nudging him with a mug and holding out a plate covered in cookies. “Thanks, Jester.” He holds the mug and takes two cookies. He listens to the soft murmur of conversation and laughter, and the warmth of the galley. He sits at the table with Molly and Yasha, squeezed between Jester and Caduceus, and he munches on a cookie while he sips at the cocoa. It’s as surreal as it is comforting. The boat creaks. The galley is warm. Molly keeps catching his eye and winking, and Fjord flushes, hiding behind his cocoa and pretending to listen to Jester intently. Caduceus occasionally interjects with words of curious wisdom. Fjord doesn’t know what’s going to happen when they dock. Or what his future looks like anymore. But he thinks if it looks a little something like this, he’d be okay with it. At least for now. ****

#critical role fanfic #fjolly #mollymauk tealeaf #fjord #yasha nydoorin #jester lavorre #draco writes critical role #bloodlines series #bloodlines alternate universe

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chapter-61 · 4 years

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thank you

CARRY ON COUNTDOWN DAY 20: Fairy Tale/Myth Retelling

AO3, AU

You must never show your magic to anyone except for your aunt, his mother’s voice reminds him.

It’s hard to keep that in mind while a man is being executed right in front of him, on the grounds that he’s a magician. Baz knows the man is not a magician, he doesn’t feel any traces of magic coming from him, but he can’t do anything about it.

He watches, alongside the group of townspeople surrounding him, the man getting dragged to the middle. Above them, on the castle balcony, the king is speaking. David Pendragon. Apparently, the queen was killed by magic, or “sorcery” as the king calls it, and since then magic has been punishable by death. That’s what his mother told him, anyway.

When the executioner lifts his weapon (it looks like a big axe), Baz looks away. His gut tells him to do something, but he promised. He’s not planning on dying anytime soon.

His gaze falls on a long open window, on the side of the castle, where a woman is looking out. She’s holding onto the side of the window, her wide eyes on the execution platform. Wild brown hair surrounds her round face, big spectacles on her nose and she’s wearing a dark blue dress. She doesn’t look very happy. Baz wonders who it is and why her reaction doesn’t match the excitement of the people.

The axe comes down and the crowd applauds.

As the king finishes his speech (“bla bla, sorcery is evil”), Baz turns away and wrestles through the gathered people. Fiona should be inside the castle, and he wants to get there before the guards return.

The voice of an old woman makes him stop. The crowd gasps when she shouts at the king with tears in her eyes. Baz watches, intrigued, until the woman says: “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!”

He feels sorry for her, but she won’t escape after threatening the prince like that.

“Seize her!” The king shouts.

Then, the woman mumbles something, and vanishes with a flash of light and whirling wind. Everyone looks astonished at the place where the woman had been just a moment before, but after a few seconds the crowd disperses with loud whispers.

Baz is rooted to the spot. This woman, a clearly potent magician, vowed to kill the crown prince. He doesn’t harbour any strong feelings for the royal family, but he’s supposed to be a student of the court ‘physician’. The death of the prince would definitely hamper his lessons and he’s looking forward to them. His mother might even say he needs those lessons more than he needs food. An exaggeration, of course, but she’s right about his grasp on his magic.

Natasha taught him as much as she could in their house, behind Malcolm’s back, which wasn’t ideal. His father is an advisor to the advisor of the king, and he certainly wouldn’t condone magic. He obviously doesn’t know about Natasha’s magic, and she’s tried her best to keep Baz’ magic a secret as well. That didn’t make it quite easy to practise, so his mother send him to the palace to learn from Fiona, because apparently it’s safer in the castle than at home (absurd).

He glances up at the open window again, but the young woman is gone. With one last look at the spot where the magician disappeared, he heads to the castle.

The next morning, he’s suffering through breakfast. If bland porridge counts as breakfast. “Aunt Fiona, this is disgusting.”

Fiona’s walking around the kitchen, touching objects and mumbling words to make them move and clean. It’s strange to see magic being used in such a mundane way, but it also feels nice. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. “Stop complaining, Basilton. I’m teaching you magic for free, the least you could do is not be an arse.”

Even though it’s been five years since Baz last saw her, Fiona still looks and acts the same. Her dark hair has a white streak in it (she told him it happened during a fight, but his mother said it’s just an ill-advised choice that Fiona doesn’t want to fix), and her black robes are tied with a blood red cord around her waist, the same colour as her lips.

She disappears into a side room, and comes back holding two vials. She puts them in front of him. “Deliver these for me. The yellow one is for Nico, the blue one for Possibelf. Make sure she doesn’t drink it all in one go.”

Baz looks down at the vials and back at Fiona, standing before him with crossed arms and a lifted eyebrow. “I have no idea who those people are.”

She rolls her eyes and picks up his bowl. “Ask around.”

“I wasn’t finished eating.”

“Be quicker next time, I have a busy day planned.”

Baz gets to his feet with a sigh. The porridge was awful anyway. Maybe he can steal a sandwich from the kitchen. If he ever finds the kitchen.

“Wait, Basilton.” Fiona holds out a few sheets of paper. “Throw that in the fire, will you?”

The fireplace is on the other side of the room, though. And he hasn’t used his magic in a few days now, it’s starting to prickle. So instead, he puts the sheets on the nearest stone table and waves his hand over them. They light on fire immediately, and in a few seconds they’re nothing but ash. He smiles. Fire magic has always been his favourite.

“What the fuck was that?”

He turns around with a frown. There wasn’t anyone around, right? Fiona looks at him and back at the incinerated sheets. “What?” He asks.

“What did you just do?”

“I burned the sheets.”

“How?!”

“I...” He feels lost. “Magic?”

“But… You didn’t use a spell. How is that possible? What did you do?”

“I don’t need a spell to light something on fire, I just think about it and it happens. Is that not what magic is?”

Fiona’s eyes are wide. “It’s definitely not. All forms of magic require spells, even the small ones. You didn’t say anything?”

“No? I just,” he waves his hand around. “I thought about lighting it on fire and it worked. I did it all the time at home.”

“Natasha knew?”

“Of course!”

“Shit. So she wasn’t exaggerating when she said you were powerful.”

“I’m powerful?”

“Kid, you can do magic without saying anything. I’ve never heard of that before.”

Baz leans on the table for support. Natasha always told him he was special but he thought that was just a thing mothers did. “What now?”

She takes the vials and pushes them in Baz’ hands. Then she shoves him out the door. “Deliver those. I need to think.”

Two hours pass, and Baz is looking for the kitchen. This castle is massive, he keeps ending up where he started. He managed to find Nico and Possibelf eventually with help from the guards, but it wasn’t an easy task. He’s hoping Fiona doesn’t keep using him as a carrier pigeon and actually teaches him some magic spells in the afternoon, but that does not seem very likely.

He turns another corner and finds himself in a wide room, empty except for three people. He immediately recognizes one of them as the woman he saw the day before, with her wild hair and round figure. She’s wearing another expensive-looking blue dress. Next to her is a taller woman, with long blonde hair and fair skin. She looks like a maid, wearing a dirty servant dress, but she’s chatting with the noble woman so she must not be that low-ranking.

The women are looking at the spectacle in front of them. And what a spectacle, indeed. Baz creeps into the room and leans against the back wall, hidden in the shadows. Now he has a better view of the man, untamed blonde curls on his head, bright blue eyes, a tight shirt across his broad chest and sweat dripping down his neck. He’s incredibly attractive, and Baz’ eyes are stuck to the muscles in his back, flexing when he swings his sword around.

Baz never found sword fighting appealing, but he’s quickly revising that opinion.

When he finally pulls his eyes away, however, he notices the lack of skill the man possesses. Being the son of the advisor of the advisor of the king, he’s had his fair share of sword lessons. This man, it seems, has not had a lot of practice.

The women aren’t giving much commentary, they look like they’re mostly chatting among themselves while the man tires himself out, punching around with the sword in hand.

When the man does another inexperienced jab and stumbles over his feet, Baz can’t help a loud snort. The three of them turn around immediately to face him.

Having blown his cover, he walks out of the shadows confidently with a smile and raised hands. “Excuse me, hope I’m not intruding. I’m afraid I got a bit lost.”

“You got lost so you decided to watch us from the shadows?” The man asks suspiciously. It doesn’t make him any less attractive. Baz tries to focus by looking at the women.

“I’m Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” he tells them. “New assistant of the court physician.”

“Nice to meet you, Basilton,” says the smaller woman with an amused smile. “I’m Penelope Bunce, King David’s niece.” So he was right, she is a noble. A highly noble woman, family of the king. She gestures at the blonde woman. “This is my friend, Agatha. She works here.”

Baz tilts his head forward. “It’s an honour. If I may ask a question?”

Penelope nods.

He gestures at the man, who hasn’t said a word since his first sentence. “Why are you two wonderful women wasting your time watching this incompetent idiot? He doesn’t even know how to hold his sword properly.”

Penelope bursts out laughing and Agatha covers a smile with her hand. Baz looks over at the man with a smile, but he’s met with a withering look.

“Excuse me?” The man says, his face turning red.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Baz says, but when Penelope keeps giggling, he figures he could go a bit further to entertain. He steps closer with a cocky smile. “Your moves could use some work. I’ve seen toddlers fight better than you.”

Penelope starts laughing again and she has to lean on Agatha to keep upright. It seems like he’s made a friend, maybe.

He’s not made a friend of the man, though. It’s a pity, but it would probably be better to steer away from attractive men.

Then the man lifts his sword in Baz’ direction with a menacing look in his eyes. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

Baz huffs a laugh, not wanting to be intimidated. “The king?” He jokes.

The man steps closer and pushes the sword tip into Baz’ chest. “My name,” he growls. “Is Simon Pendragon. And I’m the crown prince.”

Baz’ soul leaves his body. Fuck. He’s staring at the man, the crown prince, Simon bloody Pendragon, with wide eyes. Now he’s definitely never seeing his mother again. He’ll rot away in a cell at the bottom of the castle.

Thankfully, Penelope comes to his rescue. “Simon, calm down. He’s joking.”

Baz nods and steps backwards, away from the sharp tip. “I’m very sorry, your highness. I simply did not recognize you.”

“No shit,” the prince says, not lowering his sword, his eyes fixed on Baz. “Agatha, fetch a guard.”

Panic starts to rise but he presses it down and musters up a smile. “You’re going to throw me in jail because I made a comment about your sword fighting skill?”

“I could have you hanged, if you prefer that.”

“Simon.” Penelope doesn’t look too bothered. Maybe the prince is just all talk. Agatha has disappeared, presumably looking for a guard.

“I have a proposition,” Baz says, digging his grave even deeper because, for some reason, annoying the crown prince brings him pleasure. Maybe it’s because the scowl on his face makes him look more human, and less perfect. “What if we fight it out?”

“What?”

“Give me a sword, the winner decides what happens to me.” Baz throws him a challenging look.

The prince looks confused for a second. He must not be used to people talking back to him. Then his expression clears up and he smiles. It’s not very reassuring. “Fine,” the prince says. “I’ll fight you. Too bad there’s no sword for you.”

Before he can react, the prince charges at him. Baz panics and closes his eyes, bracing himself. When he doesn’t feel or hear anything after a second, he opens his eyes again, and his mouth falls open.

Everyone’s frozen in time. The prince is in the middle of his attack, raised sword, eyebrows furrowed, not blinking. Penelope stands still, her eyes on the prince, one hand reaching for him.

Baz walks around slowly, the pair like statues, and goes to a window. He’s shocked to see that everything outside is frozen as well. Everyone and everything is stuck, unmoving, in the middle of a motion. It looks like a painting.

Shit. Did he do this? How does he undo it? He’s not looking forward to telling Fiona about this.

He walks back to Penelope and the prince, and goes to stand in the same place he started. Then he looks at the prince’s sword, aiming for him, and he takes a big step to the left.

He tries to think about what makes his magic work. Fiona says it’s not normal, but it’s how he does it. Baz waves his hand and thinks, ‘please, let the time continue’.

Suddenly, the prince stumbles forward and Penelope’s reaching for him. They both look confused at the spot he was at before, and then at Baz. Penelope squints at him.

The prince says, “What the fuck.” Very princely.

“You missed,” Baz can’t help but say. He looks over at the window but everything seems to be okay again. The birds are flying around and people on the ground are moving. Disaster averted. Nobody even noticed.

“Impossible.”

“You should work on your aim.”

“You fucking git.”

Before the prince can insult him more, Agatha arrives with a guard.

“I’ve got this handled,” Penelope says before Baz can come up with an escape plan. She nods at the prince. “Go have some lunch.”

Surprisingly, the prince doesn’t protest and leaves with the guard and Agatha in tow. Disaster averted, again.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Simon can get a bit hot-headed sometimes. Definitely when he’s practising.”

“Why can’t the prince fight? Shouldn’t he get training?”

Penelope shakes her head. “David doesn’t want him to fight. He says a good king doesn’t need to be able to fight, he needs to be righteous and diplomatic. Personally, I think the king is afraid of being overthrown by his own son.”

Baz’ eyes snap to Penelope. “Why would the prince overthrow the king?”

She shrugs. “Simon isn’t planning on it, but he doesn’t agree with a lot of his father’s policies either.”

“Hm.”

“Not the magic one, sadly. The death of his mother hit him hard. One of these days I’ll convince him.”

“You don’t think magicians should be punished?” He asks, carefully. It would explain why Penelope looked like that at the execution the previous day.

She snorts. “I’d be a hypocrite if I thought that.”

“What?”

“I’m a magician, Basilton.”

“What?” He sputters. “You can’t just… tell me that. You don’t know what I could...”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “I’m not an idiot. You did something while Simon tried to hit you. You’re clearly a magician too. And Fiona told me.”

He’s still trying to process the fact that Penelope has magic too. Fiona told her about him? And she didn’t even bother to mention it? He was going to have words with her later.

“Don’t look that scared about it, this is great! I’ll have a magic mate. Could you teach me what you did? Was it a teleportation spell? I didn’t see you cast anything, though. What was it?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think we should be talking about this here.”

Penelope looks around them. They’re still in the empty room, but there are probably guards outside. “You’re right. We’ll chat later. You should meet the dragon first.”

“Dragon?”

Great. Just great. Now he’s apparently part of some prophecy, destined to protect Simon Pendragon until he becomes king, and help him unite Watford.

He never asked for this.

And the crown prince would never accept his help, let alone be his friend and listen to his advice.

Terrific.

#merlin au!!!#throwback to 2017 when i was a big merlin fan despite not watching beyond season 1 lmao #carry on countdown #coc 2019 #carry on #day 20 #my fics #yes i could've used this for the witch prompt #and yes merlin au doesn't really fit in with the fairy tale/myth prompt #BUT #sword in the stone and king arthur?? that counts as a myth in my eyes #if you get the title reference i'm sorry

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commentaryvorg · 4 years

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Danganronpa V3 Commentary: Part 6.9

Be aware that this is not a blind playthrough! This will contain spoilers for the entire game, regardless of the part of the game I’m commenting on. A major focus of this commentary is to talk about all of the hints and foreshadowing of events that are going to happen and facts that are going to be revealed in the future of the story. It is emphatically not intended for someone experiencing the game for their first time.

Last time as we got even deeper into the fiction reveals of trial 6, I tried probably too hard to justify the auditionees’ nonsensical ideas of how any of this even works, those assholes were nonetheless not the same people as our friends in here in any meaningful way, Tsumugi’s claim that she scripted Maki’s feelings for Kaito was total bullshit but still hit Maki right in the issues about being her own person, her similarly bullshit claim that Kaede and Kaito were never real hit Shuichi right in his own dependency issues, the audience completely stopped being even remotely believable human beings in their reactions to this, and Shuichi broke down and needs to reboot.

While we’re waiting for that to happen, we’ll have to make do with Keebo.

BAD END

…

Keebo: “Is this the end? Please tell me. I’m asking you.”

I suppose we’re meant to believe that the Bad End message is something that Keebo sees? Which seems kind of odd. Or maybe it’s just something that the in-universe audience were shown through Keebo’s eyes.

But it also kind of reads as more of an out-universe thing, since we the players are the only ones playing this as an actual game that could potentially have bad endings. This kind of gives this the effect that Keebo is also speaking to us, the out-universe audience, and that we’ve been his inner voice this whole time. Which doesn’t actually make sense – if we’ve been anyone’s inner voice it’s been Shuichi’s, but that’s obviously not really an in-universe thing.

This is probably for the sake of trying to fool us into feeling like the in-universe audience is a force for good, just like Keebo is going to still naively believe for a while. Not sure how convincing that is after a proportion of the audience last time had absolutely zero empathy with Shuichi’s despair, though.

Keebo: “Whenever I was in trouble, my inner voice would always guide me. That guidance is what brought me here. I don’t believe that’s a mistake.”

His inner voice’s guidance has done fuck all to bring him here. He’s here because he was lucky enough that nobody happened to try to murder him, and sensible enough not to kill anyone himself. I would like to give Keebo enough credit to think that he didn’t need his inner voice to talk him out of murder (…well, at least until this chapter, apparently). All the voice has done is make his actions a bit more proactive and optimistic, but that has meaningfully affected basically nothing of note that’s happened here.

Save this situation?

- No

Remedy this situation?

- Yes

It is perhaps a little confusing that you’re meant to say no to the first prompt, because one might have already realised that it’s not necessarily a literal save-the-game prompt and is instead talking about saving Keebo’s friends. This probably works better in Japanese, in which the first word is the English loanword “save”, which I don’t think has any meanings other than the save-the-game meaning, and then it changes to an actual Japanese word for save/rescue/ etc.

Keebo: “My inner voice is telling me I need to… remedy this situation.”

Apparently this is very much not the same part of the audience that was just mindlessly and sadistically laughing about Shuichi’s despair last time. Since Keebo’s inner voice is an audience survey, it must be a majority that wants this instead, which means we have to assume that those comments we saw before were deliberately cherry-picked to be all the despair-loving ones.

At least this does a decent job of actually making the in-universe audience feel like the good guys, then, since they don’t want Shuichi and friends to be in despair. It makes them seem that way for now, at least.

Oh hey, here’s the music from Danganronpa 1 that was essentially Makoto’s “objection” theme. Of course that’s showing up in this game now. Keebo is basically supposed to be playing Makoto’s role, after all. (Emphasis on supposed.)

Keebo: “We can’t give up. No matter what, hope is always within reach. We must keep our heads high and search for hope, even in the deepest despair.”

Aaaaaand it’s meaningless buzzword time! You can’t search for hope itself. The act of searching is hope, but only if you’re searching for something that will meaningfully, tangibly make your situation better!

Shuichi: “Hope…?”

I wonder if Shuichi’s realising that what Keebo’s saying doesn’t mean anything and is wondering why he’s throwing this word around so eagerly for no reason. Nothing is going to give Shuichi hope without actually addressing the reason he’s in despair, encouraging him to believe that he’s not all just fictional and his friends weren’t just empty lies. Without that, Keebo is just spouting meaningless platitudes that won’t solve a thing.

Keebo: “…You said so yourself – this killing game is the Ultimate Real Fiction. If this is both real and fiction, then logically it can’t all be fiction.”

This is an actually useful argument he’s making, at least. But he really shouldn’t need to use logical deduction from Tsumugi’s words to realise that obviously they’re still real in the sense that they exist and have physical bodies and will really die – and therefore that all of that applied to their friends who died, too.

Tsumugi: “Oh, your inner voice? That’s the voice of the outside world.”

It should be a huge risk for her to be telling him this. Logically this should immediately lead to Keebo refusing to listen to anything his inner voice is saying to him. He won’t for a long while, though, because he’s apparently kind of an idiot. Or just very, very brainwashed. Or a bit of both.

Tsumugi: “I know cuz I wrote your plotline, too.”

That’s not a “plotline”, that’s just a neat audience-participation feature. The actual plotline that Keebo would follow based on that is entirely up to the audience.

Tsumugi: “You’re the audience surrogate.”

This might partly explain why Keebo’s character has always been rather vaguely defined and they never did much with all the interesting potential of him being a robot who’s trying his hardest to learn to be human: because he’s supposed to be a blank-slate self-insert for the in-universe audience to see themselves as. They’re obviously not going to be able to relate his thing of being a robot. Makoto and Hajime were both pretty ordinary guys without anything too overly distinctive about them because they were basically audience surrogates, too.

(And Kaede and Shuichi have far more distinct personalities and characters because they’re not audience surrogates like the previous two games’ protagonists were.)

“Hifumi”: “That function exists to keep the audience entertained.”

Yes, because clearly they’d all have been super bored by this whole killing game if they hadn’t been giving Keebo meaningless nudges to be a little more optimistic from time to time. Nothing else about this game has been remotely entertaining without him, right!?

The hints earlier that Danganronpa might have been getting stale and on its last legs by now do support the idea that this is something they did to try and keep people interested, but Tsumugi is still giving herself way too much credit here.

“Chihiro”: “It’s two-way communication that lets you participate in the program from home.”

Oh, boy, is this the line that’s supposed to justify how Shuichi will ultimately change the outside world by yelling at them a bunch – because he does it through Keebo’s nebulous “communication” feature? Yeah, because that’s totally so different from them simply listening to him because they’re watching this trial.

Tsumugi: “The outside world has been watching from your eyes the whole time! It lets them feel like they’re really a part of the Danganronpa world!”

This cannot be the whole truth. For one thing, if they’ve only ever seen through Keebo’s eyes, then outside of trials, the audience must have been really, really bored? All of the interesting character interactions – all of the watching Shuichi grow and develop which was in-universely meant to be one of the main plotlines of this story – happened nowhere near Keebo. The audience should have been poking Keebo to hang out with more people, maybe get closer to Shuichi, so that they could actually see any of that.

(Although the fact that Keebo apparently spent more of his time with Miu than anyone else is… unfortunately probably quite an accurate representation of what an audience would do. I have seen way too many LPers of this game hang out with Miu for reasons that completely elude me because why would anyone ever want more of her than necessary unless they’re shallowly taken in by the fanservice. I feel very bad for the sensible minority watching through Keebo’s eyes who were fed up with her but didn’t have enough of a majority vote to do anything about it.)

But that collage of illustrations we had a while ago that Tsumugi presented as part of “Danganronpa V3” rather proves that Keebo’s camera is not the audience’s only viewing option. Why would they want to limit the viewers to just that when they have Nanokumas everywhere and could be giving them the choice to follow whichever character they want? And since the Nanokumas are so invisible and mobile that they can get any angle, watching via them would also make one feel as though they’re really in the Danganronpa world anyway, even if it’s not literally through a character’s eyes.

Tsumugi: “That’s why I’m so glad you survived all the way through!”

What the hell were you planning to do if he didn’t? Did you not even have any kind of failsafe in place to try and make sure nobody happened to murder him?

“Junko”: “If the audience surrogate falls into despair, then the audience does, too. By making you fall into despair, I can make the entire world fall into despair!”

That’s, uh, not how audience surrogates work. The audience only feels the same thing their surrogate characters feel through the power of empathy and imagination, but that’s not the same thing as actually being in despair when their character is. If anything, seeing Keebo fall into despair should just make the audience cheer more for him to not give up and keep having hope. You know, just like they should also be cheering for Shuichi and his friends to not despair right now, if they were a halfway reasonable and decent audience.

“Junko”: “My despair will turn from fiction to fact and destroy reality itself.”

However, Tsumugi most likely knows that this doesn’t make sense and is really just saying this to try and pander to the audience and make them feel like this matters. While it’s kind of half her fault for practically telling them herself, the characters in this story have completely messed up her script by figuring out how fictional this all is. But hey! Never mind them (who cares about them anyway they’re not real, right), this is totally all about you guys in the audience! She’s trying to make everyone ignore the fact that her story has gone completely off the rails and is no longer remotely about what it’s supposed to be about by enticing them with the idea that it’s now the audience’s story. You’re the ones in danger now! You’re the ones who get to fight and defeat Junko! Isn’t that just so fun, you guys???

Which, A, doesn’t even make any sense in the first place and, B, is horrendously bad storytelling to suddenly abandon the characters this story was supposed to be about like they’re irrelevant. But it’s going to work on this audience, because apparently they never really gave a fuck about any of this story’s characters in the first place, even though that’s the exact opposite of how an audience should act!

Maki: “Is that why… you want the world to fall into despair?”

Maki Roll, don’t fall for it! That’s not what she’s trying to do and she doesn’t care about any of that! Maki has always been the most subsceptible to manipulation, and it seems like that one Flashback Light that brainwashed them into thinking that “despair” is always bad and that they are symbols of “hope” who must always defeat despair is still affecting her in ways she doesn’t realise are manipulation.

Himiko: “Th-That’s… messed up!”

Himiko also briefly comments on this here like she might be buying this. Shuichi does not. He’s just staying quiet and watching.

“Nekomaru”: “The outside world wants to see horrible setups and payoffs!”

That should be the case, because those are the kind of things that make a good story. But suddenly yelling about despair taking over the world in a way that makes no sense and is unconnected to any of the setup we’ve had this whole time? Not a payoff for anything. Should not be something the audience wants. They should want actual payoff for the characters they’ve been watching all this time.

“Nagito”: “What could be more horrible than a fictional despair eroding the real world?”

“Junko”: “No one could’ve imagined an end this hopeless.”

Yes, look, you guys, this is totally a super awesome plotline she’s come up with and it’s one that lets all of you be the heroes! please keep watching don’t change the channel just because things have gone off-script help

Keebo: “…No. I won’t give in to despair!”

Tsumugi: “Huuuh?”

Tsumugi has a gleeful “oh, I’m so surprised!” face here. She is making it quite obvious that Keebo’s reaction is exactly what she was going for. Keebo, no.

Keebo: “If that’s the voice of the outside world, then the outside world actually wants hope!”

At this point, now that Tsumugi’s veered things around to totally be about the audience’s despair because who even cares about these people who aren’t real, is Keebo even talking about “hope” for Shuichi and the others? Or is this just “hope” for the audience to protect them from the evil despair that’s totally going to be inflicted on them? Almost certainly the latter.

K1-B0 – Ultimate Hope Robot

This is so clearly trying to rip off the ending of DR1. Which the audience is going to lap up because they’re raging genwunners. But this doesn’t work anything like that, because that hope was used to inspire the rest of the characters that the story was actually about. This is very emphatically not going to be that.

“Junko”: “What is this?”

Keebo: “This is the power of hope!”

It’s really not. It’s one guy who doesn’t have a clue what’s really going on yelling a bunch of meaningless words.

“Makoto”: “The final battle between hope and despair!”

It was never a fucking battle! But no, of course it was, that’s definitely always been what those two words are about.

“Nagito”: “The class trial is in disarray because Monokuma broke a rule…”

Himiko: “You’re the one who broke the rule…”

Hah, I like that someone calls her out on that. Tsumugi’s still running away from all responsibility, because of course she is.

(“Smiling, putting on a mask, never saying what you really think. That kind of cowardice is just like Monokuma!” Kaito was really talking about the mastermind hiding behind Monokuma rather than Monokuma himself when he said that – and now she’s putting on even more literal masks than ever before.)

“Sayaka”: “How about we start over and have a special vote?”

Keebo: “…A special vote? But you’re the one who broke the rules in the first place—”

Keebo is quite right to point out that Tsumugi does not have the right to do any kind of life-or-death vote now that she’s broken the rules and messed everything up. Tsumugi, of course, completely brushes off his protest and does it anyway… and the audience lets her.

Trial 5’s whole premise of “Monokuma can’t do what he likes once he’s provably broken the rules” only works because the audience was supposed to agree that it’s unfair and cry foul, but… it turns out the audience is actually a bunch of mindless idiots who are totally okay with a meaningless vote and meaningless deaths to get them their hope fix. So… Kaito’s attempted best-case outcome in trial 5, which he was going for in the hope of saving his friends’ lives and ending the killing game, would actually have saved no-one and ended nothing anyway??? And what Kaito did achieve – letting Shuichi know that Monokuma can’t get things wrong because of the audience, which is why Shuichi went into this trial to prove Kaede spotless in another attempt to end the killing game – is also meaningless? Kaito faked his death and lied to his friends for a whole trial for nothing?

Out-universe writers, no. Why would you ever think this is okay? How can you just completely undermine the best case of the game like this?

(They’re also clearly not trying to go for a deliberate gut-punch of making Kaito’s efforts pointless, because the narrative isn’t acknowledging this at all. Apparently the in-universe writers are not the only ones who have no idea what they’re doing here.)

“Kazuichi”: “Let’s just do one last vote!”

Monokuma: “Cuz that’s what Danganronpa’s all about!”

The fact that DR1 and DR2’s stories happened to work fairly well with a final vote does not mean that it should be taken as a necessary part of a Danganronpa storyline to the point of shoehorning one in even when it doesn’t work.

The final vote in DR2 worked because that wasn’t decided on by Junko and was just a result of the way the world had been programmed. And the final vote in DR1 may have been also forced through by Junko when she didn’t really have the right to do so any more – but she was never entertaining her audience, she was forcing them to watch in order to make a point. Her vote continued that theme, because it was essentially Junko making Makoto stake his life on the belief that his friends would agree with his philosophy of hope (in her attempt to prove that they wouldn’t). Only Makoto’s life was on the line in it, and it was for a reason that was relevant to what had been happening and what he’d been advocating, so it didn’t feel especially unfair, at least not more so than you’d expect Junko to be given she wanted lives to be at stake for everything.

The vote we’re about to be forced into here is almost nothing like that. Oh boy.

Tsumugi: “Between Keebo and I… Which of us should get punished?”

If that was all, that’d be fairly analogous to the DR1 final vote, and fairly acceptable. Keebo and Tsumugi are (supposedly) having a clash of philosophies, so this would just be them staking their lives on that. If it was only their lives on the line.

Himiko: “To end in hope…?”

Maki: “To end in despair…?”

Shuichi: “We decide…?”

Yeah, why should these three get to decide? I thought this story was suddenly all about the audience now, not them! They’re not even real people, right? Why should they get to determine which out of hope or despair the audience wants to see?

But the vote they’re about to have doesn’t have anything to do with this whole deal of “bringing despair to the outside world” or about which one the audience prefers. Because Tsumugi doesn’t have a goddamn clue what she’s doing with any of this nonsense and might as well have not even done that whole bit in the first place. I hope this is out-universely deliberate at least, but at this point my faith in the out-universe writers is slipping.

Tsumugi explains that the “Despair wins” choice will result in everyone except Keebo continuing to live in the school, technically continuing the killing game but presumably never actually killing each other any more now that they know all the motives will be lies.

Keebo: “No! That’s no way to live! Imprisoned in this school, living lives of despair—”

How exactly would that be a life of “despair”, Keebo? They’d be stuck there, sure, but at least the three of them would be alive, and they’re friends (minus Tsumugi, who would hopefully fuck off and leave them alone), so they should be able to find some semblance of happiness in it. You’re only saying it’d be “despair” because Tsumugi has arbitrarily slapped that label on it and therefore it must be nothing but bad, because “hope” is always good and “despair” is always evil, right?

“Toko”: “E-Even if you went outside, there’d be n-no point.”

“Byakuya”: “As I said, all your memories are nothing but fiction.”

“Imposter Byakuya”: “Your hometowns, your families, your friends… they never existed in the first place.”

Wow, Tsumugi, you sure are making the option where they get to escape look more despairing than the one where they stay inside here and never have to face any of that stuff.

…Which actually is kind of analogous to the first game in that they’d be going out into a hostile world where they’re going to struggle to find their feet, and they’ll have to hope that they’ll be okay in that world despite everything. If the narrative was going to present it that way and have Keebo encourage them to still try and live in that world even if it’s scary because it’s better than being boringly trapped in here forever, this’d be acceptably similar to DR1. But nope, that’s not remotely what we’re going to be doing here.

Himiko: “Th-Then at least put us back how we were!”

No, Himiko! Admittedly we didn’t see Himiko’s audition so she didn’t see what she “used to be” like, but the auditions they did see should make it very clear to all of them that the people they “used to be” weren’t them. None of you want to go back to being those people, guys; you should be able to see that! The people that you are now would stop existing if you did that! For all intents and purposes, you’d die!

Tsumugi explains that that’s impossible because Flashback Lights don’t actually retrieve lost memories and can only overwrite existing memories with fake ones. But it being impossible should not be the point anyway. None of them should even want this in the first place.

Shuichi: “So… we can’t go back to the way we were?”

Shuichi, you saw the person who used to live in your body! You can’t possibly want to be him! You’d forget everything about Kaito and Kaede and become someone who wants to get executed in a killing game!

Apparently Tsumugi’s insistence that they’re all entirely “fake” has got to them so much that, despite all the evidence, they’re just clinging to the idea that “real” has got to be better, and nooooooo, guys, snap out of it!

Buuut it’s the “hope wins” outcome of the vote that’s the really stupid part. Tsumugi is punished and they get to escape, except…

“Taka”: “However, you must follow the rules! The game will continue until the final two!”

Tsumugi: “So only two of you can graduate.”

And why, pray tell, the absolute fuck, is this remotely necessary? The only reason that two-person rule exists should be as a minimum, because it’s not possible to hold a class trial with only two people left. If it’s also a strict maximum, then that means that this game is designed to kill fourteen people no matter what, even if there aren’t enough in-game murders for that. The point of this killing game is supposed to be that the participants brought all the deaths upon themselves (even though that’s not really a fair assessment at all when they were manipulated into it). Executing more people anyway even when it’s not prompted by someone becoming blackened in the first place is arbitrarily cruel and not in the spirit of the game at all. This rule should have completely ceased to apply any more, now that we’re in “endgame” mode where clearly nobody is going to commit any more murders. Killing two of them at this point just to adhere to this pointless rule is meaningless as fuck.

Plus, what right does Tsumugi even have any more to insist that they adhere to the rules when she broke them first? Oh, right, because the audience are mindless morons who don’t actually care if she breaks them despite the entire point of trial 5. (Geez, even Kokichi expected better from the audience than this.)

So, the bottom line is that this “hope wins” ending is… two of them get to escape into an outside world that doesn’t even see them as real people, after watching two more of their friends get completely pointlessly and arbitrarily killed. Such hope! Such meaning! Such narrative!

(Okay, they won’t get killed, as we’ll learn later on, but still. It is no less arbitrary.)

Shuichi: “… We got this far… and you’re telling us to sacrifice more of our friends?”

Shuichi is crying and I don’t blame him. Why? Why should he have to lose even more of his friends for no reason? This isn’t fair! At least Kaede and Kaito’s sacrifices happened because they tried to make a difference, but this would be nothing like that!

“Gundham”: “However… even if you do escape to the outside world, you will find it most unwelcoming.”

Keebo: “…No! As long as we never give up, there will always be hope!”

Keebo. Dude. If you were trying to reassure everyone to stay hopeful about things that actually mattered, namely the idea that the outside world wouldn’t welcome them, or the thought of losing more friends, then maybe this would kinda sorta work and be a bit like Makoto was in DR1. But you’re just spouting meaningless platitudes! Stop it!

Keebo: “If it will bring hope to everyone and the outside world, I will gladly sacrifice myself.”

You dying for completely arbitrary reasons is not going to make your friends hope for anything, Keebo! And you especially shouldn’t give a fuck what the outside world that’s gleefully watched your friends die wants from you!

I don’t hold it against Keebo, because he is genuinely well-meaning and trying to do a good thing here, but he is so, so deluded and misled.

“Makoto”: “In order for hope to win, there needs to be one more sacrifice.”

That sentence doesn’t make any sense! That’s not hope! In the real Makoto’s story, hope winning didn’t sacrifice anyone except the mastermind! Makoto himself would have called total bullshit on the idea that pointlessly sacrificing his friends would be for the sake of any kind of hope!

“Sonia”: “Do you understand now? Even if you choose hope, you will still suffer.”

Okay, so, look, I’m not saying that hope doesn’t involve suffering. Remember when I talked about my first-time experience of Kaito’s trial and how the rekindled hope that he might be alive was utterly terrifying? Yeah, hope is scary. But real hope is scary because it’s uncertain, because of the constant possibility that you might not get what you’re hoping for and fall back into despair. Being forced to feel completely arbitrary separate pain that has nothing to do with what you’re hoping for (in this context, they’d be hoping they can fit in in an outside world that doesn’t see them as real people) is not part of the reason that hope itself is difficult and scary and is completely beside the fucking point.

Tsumugi using Sonia here is the beginning of a sequence of her cosplaying almost all of the female characters (plus Chihiro) and having them be all “won’t you stay here with us~? *blush*”. Which is obviously deliberate pandering.

But, like… who is this pandering to? Isn’t she supposed to be persuading Maki, Himiko and Shuichi right now? There’s no evidence that Maki and Himiko are into girls, and while Shuichi apparently is, why should he care about these people that are, to his fake memories, historical figures and nothing more? Why would he be that shallow just because they’re girls? And if this is for the audience, first of all, why, they can’t influence this outside of Keebo’s one vote, and second of all… does she not fucking realise that only about half of her audience is even going to be into girls, and only a proportion of those people should be shallow enough to be swayed by this? Female characters are more than just objects of fanservice and romantic fantasy! There are plenty of people who enjoy this franchise who aren’t here for that, you know! Tsumugi is a girl, she should have more respect for her own goddamn gender than this!

Really, if Tsumugi was properly trying to persuade Shuichi, Maki and Himiko, then the best (cruellest) move would be for her to suddenly start cosplaying Kaede, Tenko and Kaito and being all like “hey, if you stayed here I could be them for you!” (the cospox thing was dumb and there should be no reason she couldn’t do that). Which would of course make all three of them do an immediate huge revolted NOPE, a lot like the time Maki thought Exisal Kaito was Kokichi pretending to be him except worse – but it’d be an impactful moment, at least. Honestly, Tsumugi cosplaying the dead V3 characters here would make this whole part of the trial far more viscerally uncomfortable, like it’s clearly trying to be, than just seeing the DR1 and 2 characters be the face of the villain when they’re not a part of this actual story.

(Man, imagine her doing the part last time where she reminded Shuichi of Kaede and Kaito’s inspiring lines by actually cosplaying them and reciting those lines in their voices, that would be awful, I would hate it and love it at the same time. It’d hammer home the supposed idea that they were always just lies even more.)

Keebo: “Despair won’t end this killing game! Only hope will!”

Keebo says this just before we get dragged into a Mass Panic Debate in which Keebo’s only available bullet is “Hope”. When the only weapon you have is hope, every problem’s got to be able to be solved with it, right? No, Keebo.

This Mass Panic Debate is the worst and the reason I equipped Librarian’s Glare at the beginning, because then all the loud voices get silenced automatically and all I have to focus on is firing. If you don’t hit every single statement’s worth of “despair” in one round, you have to do it all over again, and a bunch of them have loud voices getting in the way. It’s far, far more mechanically difficult than any other debate in the game, which is not at all deserved on a narrative level when what’s happening right now is such a ridiculous mess.

Story time: when I got to this Mass Panic Debate on my first time through, since I was watching not playing and therefore had a little break to let my thoughts flow without having to pay as much attention to what was happening… I was really upset. I had loved almost everything about this game up to this point, and I really wanted it to have a good ending worthy of the rest of it. But this was currently presenting itself as that ending, and this was just bad.

This is supposedly analogous to the part in DR1 where Makoto fired bullets of hope at all of his friends, and I liked that part. It was refreshing and inspiring after a whole game supposedly all about despair to realise that it was actually about hope as well. But here, first-time-me just felt vaguely insulted at the idea that I was supposed to like this as much as I did that. This is just a cheap imitation of that which completely misses the actual point.

The protagonist is supposed to be meaningfully inspiring his friends to not give up and to face the hostile outside world with the hope that things will work out okay. But this “hope” choice they’re being given here is arbitrarily cruel, and Keebo’s words are not even addressing his friends, let alone any of the actual problems that his friends are despairing over. He’s just shooting the “hope” at Tsumugi’s “despair” like this is some kind of good-versus-evil battle. This is exactly the kind of one-dimensional, meaningless hope the characters were filled with when they saw the Flashback Light in chapter 5 – empty platitudes that don’t even remotely address the actual reason for their despair and therefore don’t fix anything at all. And that reason for their despair right now isn’t just the thought of the outside world but also simply the notion that they’re not real, which was pretty compelling when it came up and first-time-me wanted them to get back to that and address that more and hated the fact that it’d apparently been completely forgotten like it didn’t matter.

Of course, I don’t hate this part nearly as much now, because this isn’t the real endpoint of this trial, and with that in mind, Keebo missing the point like this is very out-universely deliberate. This is showing the “battle between hope and despair” that the outside world apparently craves that is the reason they’ve been watching these killing games for fifty-three seasons. Shuichi is going to figure this out quite soon, and then things will get back on track with the characters we’ve actually grown to care about properly addressing the question of how real they are.

But I’m still not super happy with this. Keebo is so obviously failing at presenting any kind of actual hope or compelling story here that it’s a stretch to believe that a sensible in-universe audience would want this either. Shouldn’t they care about the characters they’ve been watching this whole time and be frustrated, like I was, when the story abruptly veers away from being about them into this empty nonsense? Shouldn’t they be calling bullshit on the arbitrary unfair sacrifices for the vote, especially after Tsumugi broke the rules and had no more right to even punish anyone at all? (That was literally supposed to be the point of trial 5, dammit! Kaito deserves better than this!) Heck, shouldn’t the characters be calling bullshit on the vote rather than accepting it? (I can let them off a bit more though, since they’re still mostly in despair and not quite thinking straight.)

This would work a lot better if it was still trying to be mostly about the characters, and Keebo was actually trying to inspire them with hope. Instead of shooting at Tsumugi’s despair, he should, like Makoto did, be shooting the hope at his friends and trying to reassure them that surely they’ll find a place in the outside world that’ll accept them, that surely whichever two of them survive will be able to overcome these last deaths as well and find happiness somehow. That would be a kind of hope that would be reasonably believable as making a satisfying if bittersweet ending. That way, it’d be a lot easier to believe that the audience wants this, and to therefore realise that this is why the killing game has gone on for so long and will still continue if they let this ending happen here.

The fact that this isn’t what happens when it easily could have been makes me wonder how much of this part’s one-dimensionality was deliberate, and how much is the out-universe writers not actually realising that the situation they’re presenting here isn’t “hope” in any meaningful or compelling way at all. My faith in them on this particular front is not very strong, I must admit.

“Keebo! Keebo!”

“Keebo’s on fire!”

“gooooo Keebo!”

The audience has been there in the background throughout all of this – probably as what Keebo’s hearing in his inner voice – but up until now they’ve just been saying “Hope” or “Despair”. As this debate finishes, they finally start saying something of more substance, most of them cheering Keebo on like so. It sure sounds like they care about him as a character, which is what you’d expect if they’d been experiencing this game through him as the protagonist. But they don’t; we’ll see that very clearly later. They only care about him representing their own voices and nothing else.

“i wanna see the color of shuichi’s blood <3”

Wow, fuck, geez, okay. That “fan” of Shuichi’s from before has gone from “somewhat realistic if rather creepy considering that he’s real” to “absolute sicko”. What the hell.

“Now this is Danganronpa.”

Apparently we really are supposed to believe that this kind of meaninglessness is what people have come to like from this show over the years. It so incredibly shouldn’t be, though. What about all the actual class trials before the endgame? The characters struggling with the pain of watching their friends die or realising that their friend killed someone? Isn’t that more compelling than just yelling about hope being better than despair? Apparently not to these idiots.

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kingofthewilderwest · 5 years

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It's anon-whose-dad-looks-like-McGucket again! He hasn't eaten any raccoons... yet... at least that I know of... XD Having fallen into this fandom hole rather aggressively with a lot of time on my hands, I have found the episode commentaries, graphic novel, and shorts. Are there any other behind the scenes or supplementary materials you recommend?

Hey there again! And bless, bless you for falling down the fandom hole.

As far as supplementary materials are concerned, I’m going to list everything I would recommend. I’ll even list things you’ve mentioned above, in case other people reading this post would be interested learning about GF extended materials too! I’ll be listing GF content in order roughly from “most essential” to “not so essential.” Note: this isn’t a comprehensive list of tie-ins. Also note: this list talks about spoilers from the show itself.

Journal #3. If you’ve already found out about the graphic novel and gotten your hands on that, I imagine you know about Journal #3 too - but since you didn’t mention it above, or if you were going to skip it over, I’m bringing it up now! Journal #3 is a *MUST*. I consider this book as essential to the Gravity Falls experience as the show itself. (Probably because the 1980s boys are my soul, life, and feels.) Journal #3 isn’t written to be a dump of monster lore, though there’s paranormal experiences in this book, of course. Journal #3 is a well-done narrative focusing on Ford’s hubris character arc and providing it amazing resolution. It also complexly dives into the relationship between Ford and Fiddleford, and to say that that narrative has ruined me and kept me awake at night would be an understatement. It makes the scenes and events of S2 more meaningful, and just… aughghgh. There’s so much to unpack there and I keep waiting for an excuse to yak about it.It’s also got several moments I wish could have been in the show proper (though I respect the need to cut for time and focus on the Essential Essentials, and think they did a great job prioritizing). If you’ve finished the commentaries (don’t know how far you are), you may remember Alex Hirsch saying they tried to get Dipper’s real name reveal into the show sev’ral timez, but ultimately cut it and left it for Journal #3. That scene definitely reads as “should have been in the show,” and it’s a great moment. Plus, Ford’s final remarks about “trust no one”? Ohhhhhh it’s so good, and makes the resolution to the show’s events all the better.

Journal #3 Blacklight Edition. Unless you can travel back in time to preorder, or have several thousand USD to spend today (no, I’m not joking, go onto eBay and cry), you’re not going to get your paws on the special blacklight edition of Journal #3. But there are people who have photographed important notes! Such as: [1] [2] [3]

Lost Legends. A graphic novel with several short adventures. They’re all side adventures, but there’s some development on Dipcifica, and Mabel confronting her selfishness, that are nice additions and expansions to people’s characterizations. Wonderfully done, nicely arted, and feels like reading four new short episodes of the show.

The shorts, etc. I know you said you’ve gotten to the shorts, but there are so many shorts and promotional ads that I hope you’re going through the wiki pages and not just DVD menus to unearth everything. I don’t feel like pulling up my DVD to check, but if I remember right, some things like Creepy Letters from Lil’ Gideon didn’t make it to hard copy release?So anyway. I know some of these are easy to find and you’ve probably gone through them, but for the sake of thoroughness:

The Unaired Pilot

Creature in the Closet

Dipper’s Guide to the Unexplained

Mabel’s Guide to Life

Fixin’ It with Soos

TV Shorts 1 and TV Shorts 2

Mabel’s Scrapbook

Mystery Shack: Shop at Home with Mr. Mystery and its Outtakes

Old Man McGucket’s Conspiracy Corner

Creepy Letters from Lil’ Gideon

Gravity Paws

’Pocalypse Preppin’

The deleted scenes. The special edition DVD/Blu-ray provides a ton of S2 footage of the writer’s room, Alex narrating the storyboards, and through that showing us scenes that were cut or altered. There’s AMAZING stuff there, oh my goodness.It’s complicated finding all released deleted scenes materials, though, and honestly, I’m still trying to fish through the interwebs for more. You’ll find some released storyboards online for S1 and S2 that didn’t make animation. There’s a second long animation of Ford and Stan adjusting their glasses at the same time that made trailers but not “A Tale of Two Stans.” Or you’ll find things on Alex’s twitter page, like the now-notorious Dipper-snaps-Dippy-Fresh’s-neck-on-screen moment. And things like Bill’s initial introduction scene have been animated by fans. :)

Shmeb-you-unlocked website. I have fondness for this page because I love learning minor details about characters. This is a hidden website url you can uncover going through Lost Legends. Got some fun stuff on Anti-Mabel, Tate McGucket, and Pacifica, for instance.

The Episode Commentaries. Seriously, these are the most enjoyable commentaries I think I’ve watched (outside of the LOTR cast commentaries, anyway). They’ve got insight into everything, from talking about character psychology, to storytelling techniques, to storyboard artists’ contributions, to how fans’ responses literally changed how the creative team wrote the show.

The Special Features for the Special Edition DVD / Blu-ray release. All the special features on the DVDs are cool and enjoyable! Between the Pines, etc.

The Hidden Special Features. The Special Edition DVD / Blu-ray release comes with lots of hidden special features! Grunkle Stan’s hidden commentary for Land Before Swine is treasure. Like, Stan starts rambling about his childhood and embarrassing stories about Ford and stuff… it’s amazing. There’s also a Bill special feature that I love.

Cipher Hunt! Most of it’s just fun, but it’s wild to consider that Alex staged an international scavenger hunt by choice. I don’t like road trips, but I would be very tempted to travel to see that Bill Cipher statue. Because I have… fandom issues. Haha.

Dipper and Mabel and the Curse of the Time Pirates’ Treasure! Though I’ve entertained myself with this, I don’t recommend this as highly as the other stuff on here. But if you want to keep living Gravity Falls, this is one of the books out there with original non-show content. There’s even a few moments in this book that were taken from the unaired pilot or deleted scenes. It’s a choose-your-own adventure, has nice art, and stuff. While it is written by Rowe, I don’t consider this as necessary of an addition to Gravity Falls fans because the choose-your-own adventure doesn’t (to me) capture the deep heart of the show. It’s more of a light, silly, random what-have-you. It does have a hidden web link to a page with the Axolotl, though, so that’s sort of important?

The Games. Most games are simple online flash games with no informative or lore-adding content to them. You won’t get anything new out of them, so take or leave them. But ya know, they still pass time in non-objectionable ways. If you’re really craving ANYTHING GF, why the fuck not. That’s how I ended up playing them. Some games have enjoyable versions of the main theme… the Weirdmageddon: Take Back the Falls game did not have to go so rocking hard on the music, and yet it did. (I may have recorded the audio to the level select and stuff and added it to my iTunes library.)I know you’ve been watching me play Legend of the Gnome Gemulets on my twitch. The other games that I think are the most entertaining are Rumble’s Revenge and Pinesquest (mostly Pinesquest, but it’s a “sequel” to Rumble’s Revenge).

And if you haven’t gone clue hunting and decrypting yourself, and don’t want to extend the effort to do so, the cryptograms page on the wiki is a must!

Alex’s old twitter posts have some interesting things too from time to time?

I hope I remembered the main things. And I hope this helps!

#Anonymous #GF #Gravity Falls #long post #Journal 3 #ask #ask me #Lost Legends #Gravity Falls Lost Legends #Gravity Falls: Lost Legends #awesome anonymous friend #analysis #my analysis #blabbing Haddock #non-dragons

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