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doctorbunny · 3 years

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MILGRAM theory time: Haruka!

This isn't going to go super in depth (famous last words) but there's a few heavily debated parts of Haruka's MV I want to share my findings/thoughts on because I think this is my new special interest and during my quest to get best boy's song to 1 million views I have been looking over his first MV with a fine tooth comb so to speak.

Disclaimer: As the Jackalope said in the "This is the MILGRAM" trailer, we don't necessarily know everyone's crime from just the first video, its possible that a lot of things will be re-contextualized in the second MV, however I am not psychic or bilingual and thus will only be working with content released before August 20th 2021 and translated into English (which could cause some language/cultural details to be lost on me as translation is not a 1 to 1 process).

TW for discussions of ableism, child abuse, murder and animal death. Also this is really long so sorry to all the people that follow me for non-MILGRAM stuff

Firstly, I want to start on the topic of Haruka as a person. He is disabled. He does not have 'the mind of a child' (although he is 17, making him legally a minor in both North America and Japan). He is not just 'child-like'. And he is not mentally ill (well he might be, in the sense that many disabilities like Haruka's have strong comorbidities [where a person has two or more conditions but neither directly causes the other] with anxiety, depression and PTSD, but usually when I see people talk about him 'struggling with mental illness' they go on to refer to aspects of his disability). Sometimes on tumblr, people like myself, will see canonical traits written into a character and identify them as being traits associated with our disabilities/mental illness and headcanon them as such. Sometimes this even involves saying things like "It's basically canon!" Although we understand that these characters were probably not the result of a writer intending to write a disabled person. When I say that Haruka is being written as a person with a neurodevelopmental disability, I mean the writer intended to write a disabled character and wrote them in a way that they wanted the audience to pick up on. As an autistic person (which is one of many neurodevelopmental disorders and also something I probably didn't have to specify because who else would be writing an essay about a series they got into a few days ago at 11 o'clock at night) I really like how Haruka has been written so far. There's definitely some parts of him that have been exaggerated so abled normies can pick up on his disability (namely how his MV 's main motif is really child-like drawings) but the writers also included a lot of smaller details I appreciate like how it is noted he avoids eye contact when talking to other people and is depicted as nervously pulling at his sleeves in official artwork, or how he says he finds his prison uniform (which has tight straps) 'relaxing' and when he gets nervous/tense, he will dig his fingernails into the palm of his hands. (These last two potential being examples of 'self stimulation' [aka stimming] where a person seeks out specific sensory stimuli in order to help regulate their nervous system/emotions, in this case the tight uniform creates a comforting, secure feeling [you may have heard about some people preferring to sleep under weighted blankets for this reason] and digging nails into his palms sounds uncomfortable/painful but is done in an attempt to deal with a greater sensory discomfort caused by the situation/environment) I also appreciate the depth he is written with, he struggles to communicate verbally but in his MV and interactions with other inmates is shown to have insecurities, opinions and a consistent thought process (this is all basic character stuff but unfortunately not always present in disabled characters)

Also I want to add that (in terms of what we've been shown so far) Haruka did not kill anyone because of his disability/mental illness. Disabled people are not inherently more innocent than abled people. But there is no disability/mental illness where a symptom is that you kill people and real people have to live with the stigma when you speak carelessly and suggest things like "Haruka is the kind of mentally ill person who kills people as a cry for help" 🧂 (or at the very least real people have to read BS like that and cringe). TL;DR Haruka is less child-like and more onion-like (as in, he has layers) 🧅🧅🧅

Now is the actual theory stuff, oops:

Every prisoner in MILGRAM is supposed to have committed murder in some way, obviously considering Yuno just had an abortion (which i personally do not consider an act of murder) whilst Mu literally stabbed someone to death, this definition is stretched a bit. But it is not agreed upon yet who Haruka killed/how many people he killed or why he killed.

In his MV he is shown to have chased after his dog into a forest, seen something off-screen, then beaten something into a messy pulp with a rock. Some people think the dog is a red herring and that Haruka actually killed his mother/the girl from the fireworks show/his brother. I do not agree.

First: I believe Haruka when he says he doesn't have a brother. The MV literally starts by Haruka looking in the mirror and then switching between the him now

and a really similar looking younger child who just so happened to be a key feature of his memories (I don't have the vocabulary to explain it but its like cinematic parallels that establish this is the same person at different points of their life)

Its not impossible that this is Haruka's secret younger brother, but i think its unlikely. I saw someone saying they had to be different people because Haruka looks less happy than the child but like, most 17 year olds are less visibly happy than when they were 7 (or however old the child is meant to be). Life happens.

So when Haruka is shown pushing the child around and eventually strangling him, this isn't meant to be literal (homicide or suicide), but a representation of how conflicted Haruka feels about his younger self, who may have committed the murder (if you've ever been kept awake cringing at memories of something you said in the past and wishing you could go slap some sense into your former self, this is like that but 10 times more self loathing). The lyric "I am always repeating yesterday," implies he might think about this specific past event a lot.

Moving on, its pretty well accepted that Haruka's parents were abusive in some way and Haruka internalised a lot of it: he constantly apologises, he says in his interrogation questions that his one wish come true is that "[he] want[s] to be loved" and describes in his MV how when he couldn't find the words he was looking for ("you're unfair") one of his parents "would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless.”". He seems to know its unfair but also still says he 'loves' his family, possibly mistakenly believing it is his fault, but also showing an awareness of his situation (and how his parents might behave).

Now, the MV is stylised in a way that makes certain details unclear, but there is one clear detail showing that Haruka's dog was killed

This is the first close up of Haruka and the dog. Haruka's mother is just out of frame supervising, but they look pretty happy. Notice how the puppy has a silvery chain for a collar. Somehow, this dog gets out of the house but only Haruka is shown chasing after it (whether his mother was searching elsewhere or didn't bother following her disabled son into the forest is unclear). Either way, young Haruka is now in the forest, unsupervised.

By the time he finds the dog, there is already blood, suggesting it was initally attacked by something else.

is this a sigh of relief from a boy whose finally found his beloved pet or a jealous weakling glad that nature took its course and he is finally free of that meddling mutt stealing all his mummy's attention? /j

I think this shock at the discovery that 'there is blood on his hands' could imply that rather than literally getting the blood from his dog, Haruka has seen his already injured dog and realises that if the dog got out because of him (he is previously shown to be aware his parents seem to blame him for everything) then he is the reason his dog is injured/dying and will be blamed for it. (this scene plays over the lyrics "It’s fine, though it’s really not It’s really fine, though I don’t really think so When I tried to understand it, You’ll make that disappointed face again" suggesting he is trying to avoid making his parents disappointed and letting the family pet escape into danger is something that could make them very disappointed)

now we get into rock murder (this is present-day Haruka implying that this is either: not how the scene really played out; the writers really wanting the audience to know that this was Haruka's doing and not someone else's; or this turns into a separate incident that happened much later [although note that the red sky and blue moon is the same as when young Haruka first appears at the start])

b the corpse is beyond mangled now, but its clearly the dog because the silver chain collar is still there, to the right of the body. (circled in red for your convenience :3)

My hypothesis is: Haruka didn't set out to kill his dog, but upon finding it injured (we don't know the severity aside from bleeding and also it not being able to run away from Haruka kneeling down above it w/ a big rock so it could range from treatable with a lot of vet help to already on death's door, TBH I don't think Haruka would know the difference) He knew he'd be blamed for this; made into a villain who let the poor puppy come to harm. He panicked and killed the dog out of some idea that it would make him the victim here (since he'd be found crying over a dog corpse, which might make a parent go comfort him rather than getting angry about what could've happened to the dog). This is over the lyrics: "I cried, I screamed I wanted to be a pitied and loved weakling I was in denial, I was in denial I just had to make sure I’ve become a victim, I’ve become a victim" (there's another theory that he was also jealous of the dog, which could work here too, since this is not some calculated plot; rather its a rash decision) This ties in with his Japanese song title (translated as Weakness) which is a play on a phrase sort of like "The strong eat, the weak do not" to become "The weak are eaten by society" or "The weak eat each other to survive" [once again I am reminding everyone this is based on second hand information from the youtube comments section (from users mitchki and Alphaistic) because I do not speak Japanese] This second meaning (The weak eat each other to survive) makes sense under the reading that Haruka killed his dog in order to 'survive' making his parents disappointed for the dog escaping.

Miscellaneous points:

We don't know where Haruka's necklace came from yet, it must be a gift since the most expensive thing he's ever bought was cotton candy. The younger child in the video isn't wearing it and neither is his mother or the girl in the purple dress.

Haruka's home seems quite big, at the start we can see a large flower garden outside the window and there's a forest in walking distance. This might suggest his family is quite wealthy

Haruka probably did go to school at some point as homeschooling is not a legally accepted as an alternative to public schools in Japan. (However it is estimated that up to 5000 families homeschool, this is uncommon) A lot (about 62%) of Japanese schools apparently have a 'special needs' classes and there are about 505 schools focused on educating intellectually disabled students (although I do not know which sort Haruka would've needed as whilst intellectual and development disabilities can be comorbid they aren't the same). Now, if children aged 7-14 don't go to school, their parents receive a fine, but its possible that if Haruka's parents are wealthy, they just paid it to avoid sending him to school. (This might imply they wanted to hide him or were generally ashamed of him in some way) However high school education (for students over 14) is not legally required and its likely that even if Haruka went to elementary/middle school, he hasn't been around people his own age in at least 3 years. As he seems quite lonely and glad that the other prisoners give him attention.

I don't think Haruka's parents are divorced and if they are, its not his father who left. Haruka mentions in the 30 questions that he thinks he disappointed his father. But still includes him as part of his family ("My father and mother and me"). A theory I've seen is that his father was disappointed by his son being disabled and left. but developmental disabilities (especially in non verbal and semi verbal children like Haruka) can be diagnosed before the age of 3, so I feel it is unlikely that Haruka would bring up his father if he left that early in Haruka's life

All MILGRAM prisoners have covered one of DECO*27's older vocaloid songs (DECO*27 is a well known producer who composes the music for MILGRAM) Haruka covered 'Two Breaths Walking' (https://youtu.be/puXLfVWrz2Q) which is about a boy's first relationship and how his mother's jealousy set him up for failure as the relationship becomes toxic (specifically it has some very funny out of context lines like "Whose breasts are you sucking on now?") so yeah, mommy issues: the song (Also: some people say in the song, the boy kills the girl at the end, but this isn't literal, TBW is the first of a trilogy of songs about the same relationship, it is followed by Android girl then Two Breaths Walking: Reloaded and the story resolves with the couple reuniting as adults and getting in the relationship again, although its not necessarily as abusive as before, its still implied to be codependant ending on the line 'We should live like oxygen tanks, sucking breathe from the words each of us exhale, until our last breathe')

In all seriousness, the scene where younger Haruka is walking through the city with his mother but it keeps repeating until older Haruka pulls the younger one away might indicate an attempt to focus the happier memories of his parents (since this is also over the lyrics "Why is it breaking? Tell me why? Please don’t change If I tried and couldn’t say it, You would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless.”" which depict a worse scene) I think both his parents are still physically present but have become far more emotionally distant, not giving him as much attention, which exacerbates his loneliness from not having any friends his own age to talk to

And if one of his parents did leave? I think its likely his mother since she is shown disappearing out of his reach after the dog-incident (inferring she got angry/disappointed in Haruka anyway) This could also be where he got his necklace from: Its something his mother used to wear (although this is 100% a guess) and that's why its shown to be important to him

This one is just me, but i didn't realise until a rewatch that when Haruka is watching the younger him and the girl running together, the background has fireworks. Haruka mentions fireworks being a key memory to him so I wonder if this was one of the first/last times he got to make a friend...

On three separate occasions in the interrogation, Haruka mentions not liking animals. Despite this, he is depicted as sleeping with a rabbit plush and on his birthday art (I'd include that too but tumblr only allows 10 pictures per post, so here's a link) he is standing next to a giant blueberry and strawberry cake with two bunny themed biscuits at the side. Through my experiences of seeing Japanese fandom art on pixiv, sometimes rabbits are used to insinuate a character is cute and timid in fanart.

Meaningless details: Haruka sleeps with his necklace on; he sleeps on a bed and not a futon; at first I thought he woke up holding his plush's hand but his hand is merely next to the toy; and considering the state of the pillow and blanket, I wonder if he moves a lot in his sleep or if the is just because in this case he seems to be waking up from a nightmare about the dog incident...

Final note: I've spent so many hours writing this I don't remember if i was building up to any big finale or not but I hope you enjoyed reading this! Feel free to add on in the comments/reblogs.

#haruka sakurai #milgram #milgram theory #001 #text post #essay #long post

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fishmongeringstudies · 3 years

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the year i turned twenty i stopped waiting for someone to save my life and started eating more vegetables

in the winter of 2018 i got a root canal done on the molar in the upper left-hand corner of my mouth. it had been on the verge of death for a while now; two years prior to that a visiting government-sponsored school dentist had taken a look at it, frowned, and then spent the next two hours wheedling all the rot out of that tiny black hole with a drill. unfortunately the solution he imposed was both extremely painful and temporary, and so two years after the initial incident i found myself once again at the dentist's (this time at a clinic; school dentists don't like to deal with the extra-gritty stuff and are not paid enough to do so). they stuck a needle in my gum, numbed three-quarters of my mouth, then drilled a hole through the center of my tooth and ripped the withering shred of nerve-tissue right out of it.

my dentist helpfully explained all of the above to me during our consultation session in the same office in which he would rip the top half of my tooth off a week later. he was a balding, smiling man whose speech did not, unlike many medical professionals i had met over the years, have an edge of condescension to it. i liked him. i would have liked him more were he not planning to essentially castrated my tooth.

several weeks later i went to another dentist who specialized in helping people in post-root canal limbo, and she stuck a shiny metal crown on what was left of my molar. we then scheduled a series of check-ups to ensure that the crown had not flown off its liege while i attacked an ice cube or something similarly bad for my teeth and mental health, which stretched on for so long that she became, more or less, my primary dental care physician. at first the check-ups were a month apart. then two. time passed. her hair grew longer and our conversations less awkward; she was beautiful and snarky and looked like she would shoot god without hesitation if he stepped into range of her gun. she wore her hair short, red tinged with gold, in a pixie-cut that fell over half of one eye. for a while i thought i was in love with her.

'do you floss?' she asked me on my second check-up.

'no,' i said.

'well.' she broke off a length of dental floss and began to wind it around her fingers. it looked like a death threat and she looked ready to kill, though her eyes were smiling. 'you should.'

for the first year after having an utterly destroyed tooth brought back from the brink of death via a grisly temporary solution that would, at best, buy me one or two decades of peace, i didn't. i didn't floss because when she did it for me in her tiny examination room my gums bled so much it took hours for me to wash the bitter taste of iron out of my mouth. blood is a nice concept and a nicer motif in writing. but it smells awful, and it's worst on the tongue. so i didn't floss my teeth, and i went through life with the kind of casual detached disinterest with which i had approached most things up until then. at my next check-up she asked once again if i had been flossing and i lied that i had. after poking and prodding around in my mouth for a few minutes and taking a scan for good measure she gave me a look and said dryly, 'you haven't been flossing at all, have you.'

disappointing your parents, your favorite high school english teacher, or even your best friend is nothing compared to the sheer embarrassment that comes from knowing your beautiful dentist asked you to do the bare minimum, and you failed to deliver. her voice was arid but we had known each other for long enough by then for me to detect a thin undercurrent of disappointment. i had done it. i had lost the support of the only person in my life who could be counted on to support me. because i paid her for her services. and she was also very funny in a quiet sarcastic way. and she was beautiful.

having had my ego wounded beyond description i resolved to floss from then on and succeeded in dragging my poor aching gums past the bleeding stage to a point where they were merely post-workout sore. then i lost interest and forgot about the white, sterile-smelling clinic that was a fifteen minutes' drive from my house and the little pack of dental floss on the bathroom counter faded into obscurity. two weeks before my next appointment in 2020, an alarm on my phone went off to inform me of the approaching day of judgment. i panicked.

'have you been flossing?' my dentist asked as i lay back in the faded green chair and she put on a pair of new gloves.

'yeah,' i said.

five minutes later, she removed her army of dentistry equipment from my mouth with a satisfied hum. 'i see that you have.' her eyes were smiling. 'your teeth look fine. i'll just clean them a little for you.'

i celebrated impressing my favorite dentistry professional in singapore by forgetting to floss for the next two months. soon after that i got on a plane to america, and then two more for good measure in case i hadn't grown sick of sitting and burning in my own skin already, and then twelve weeks of insanity ensued, the details of which we are surely all acquainted with by now. late nights, walks in the forest, afternoons spent in the sun. mismatched footsteps and strange acquaintances. an elaborate circus act staffed entirely by misguided but well-meaning teenagers. a ring of fire.

two weeks ago i bought a box of dental floss for ninety-nine cents. i think this might be what the anthropologists call 'adulthood'. i was at target with a friend and we were getting toothpaste, which we had both nearly run out of, when i saw the little flat box of dental floss hanging from a hook on the wall. my teeth weren't particularly disgusting (they haven't been, not since i learned how to brush them properly), but they weren't beautiful. it had been a while since i had been on my own mind. for the last three months, others' pain had been my main priority, and now that we had eliminated most of them from the picture, i found myself with more time in the mornings to stare at myself in the mirror and wonder how, exactly, i was doing.

how are you doing? i asked. and the answer was i felt like shit.

while i've stayed in dormitories before for extended periods of time i always got out of doing laundry by either submitting my dirty clothes to an on-campus service which disappeared them into a hole in the fabric of reality and returned them to you a day later, cleaned and folded outside your room so the first time i did laundry by myself in america, a week after arriving on campus, i felt invincible. buying an iced chai from the cafe on a thursday morning and then settling down to work on my laptop until my first class started at noon, i felt like a character in a career advisory ad, like someone who knew where they were going and how they were going to get there. standing in front of the bathroom mirror of my summer dorm, winding a strand of dental floss around my fingers, i felt like i had aged fifteen years in the span of just one, and that just this once, it was for the better.

according to my adult friends, no one ever fully feels or recognizes that they are an adult. adulthood is an ideal that all grown children strive towards the way body-builders aim for more and more muscle mass until there's nothing left of them but a pair of well-toned biceps. there are several industry-approved ways to be an adult, but there are no suggested ways to feel like one. this is part of the gaping maw of inadequacy our generation has fallen into. this afternoon i melted butter in a pan and beat two eggs, milk, salt, and garlic powder together in a bowl. pouring the egg mixture into the pan i began to scrape the edges frantically towards the center with a spatula. the whole process took no longer than two or three minutes. by the end of it my hand was shaking.

according to my adult friends you just wake up one day and start looking for ways to re-organize your pantry and that's when you realize: i'm getting old, aren't i? and i'm getting old, aren't i? twenty's just the start of what a friend recently told me her parents refer to as 'the decade of pain'. but the beginning of something is included in the timeline of its accomplishments, too, and it takes more blind faith to start something than we give ourselves credit for. i have never used a saucepan up until today. in my younger years i often boiled broccoli or cauliflower in a small pot over an electric stove. but the butter, the eggs, the smell of fat sizzling on a pan- this is new to me. this entire life is new to me.

leaving the familiar warmth of your family home, it suddenly occurs to you how fragile life is. how everything your mother has done for you until now has kept you on the path forward, and now you have been given the keys to the basement you have to remember to buy laundry detergent before you run out. it all comes together like this: the humming laundry machines, the hand towels, the fridge full of fruit and cheese. it keeps you alive.

and it's awful. our generation doesn't know what self-care is because we're too busy trying to care for a world which tries, time and again, to kick us off the carousel of life and move on without its ephemeral teenage charges. we are bad at this 'living' thing because we often forget that we are alive at all. look out the window and the world's burning. look into the kitchen, and- quiet. this past year has done nothing to improve the paintings on the wall. we've all known hopelessness. we've all known what it's like to wake up and feel nothing at all.

and yet my flatmate has a new york times cooking subscription that she says we're welcome to borrow if we want to look up a recipe for something like paella, brownies, whatever. the other day she made shrimp scampi and when she knocked on my door and said 'i made food, if you'd like some' i remember thinking living with other people was worth it if you could sit around a table and twirl pasta noodles around your fork in silence. tomorrow i think i'll go to target again and see if i can find more acai. i miss it. i miss singapore's overpriced acai places and their stupid too-high chairs.

and i am living life clumsily, but who cares? a life is a life; all you have to do is live it. the rest can come later, after the dust has settled on the windowsill.

06.09.21

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

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Merchant of Death

One-Shot

Description: Mob!Thanos is a collector of the most precious things in the world. But what happens when his eyes upon you?

Warning - Mentions of violence and beheading

Words- 5400~

This one-shot is my entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 's writing challenge. I used the following image prompt. Check out this link to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Nobody knew his real name. Nobody cared. Named after the Greek God of death himself, Thanos was modern day's omen of slaughter. Being the leader of one of the oldest mob families in New York, Thanos commanded a certain level of respect amongst his peers. It wasn't just that his heritage was daunting. His towering height, broad shoulders, vast expanse of muscled torso and legs were enough to intimidate even the toughest of the fighters. Always dressed in an impeccably crisp suit, his bald head, sharp eyes and a strong, set jaw easily gave the impression that he was the owner of a multi-billionaire corporation.

It wouldn't be wrong to call his drugs and weapons empire a well-oiled corporation. His 10 fingers were dipped in blood in multiple countries throughout the seven continents, yes even in Antarctica.

Thanos was a well-known figure. Everybody knew who he was, knew what he did, but nobody, not even the law authorities, could ever connect him with any illegal activity, be it harbouring and selling of illegal guns and drugs, or smuggling goods to his centres across the globe.

For all his wrongdoings, Thanos did donate 10% of his revenue to the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden. Almost like a twisted version of Robinhood, where he ripped off the rich with highly priced drugs and paid a part of the amount to the poor.

For this reason, there were two sides of him which were portrayed in the media, those who earned his favour called him Messiah of the Poor, while the others who had witnessed his ire addressed him as the Merchant of Death. But in both the iterations, it had been made ample clear that nobody could make Thanos bleed.

That's why it came as a shock when the Chief of Police, Steve Rogers, had managed to shoot Thanos in an encounter. Looking at their leader fall to the ground, Thanos' men commenced their feral attack on the protectors of the law, driving them back.

The bullet had pierced his left forearm, but hopefully hadn't made it far into his body, thanks to the bulletproof vest sewn into the jacket.

His men rushed him to the nearest hospital as he put pressure on the wound.

...

Being the night of 31st December, the ER was more crowded than usual, with drunk idiots involved in car accidents, accidental weapon discharges, or some even sustaining injuries by bursting fire crackers at a close range.

You silently cursed yourself. Yeah saving lives was noble and all, but spending the entire New Year's Eve in the hospital, surrounded by blood and equally bloody cries of their families and friends really got on your nerves at times.

You steeled yourself as you entered the operation theatre (OT) for another surgery. This moron's druggie friend had shot him in the chest because he thought he was someone else. This would be a complicated surgery, as the bullet was deep inside the muscle, almost touching the heart. One miscalculation could result in more complications.

Halfway through the surgery, you heard a commotion outside the OT. Furrowing your head, you tried to concentrate, but the noise grew louder. You focused your mind on removing the bullet. As if choreographed, your instrument touched the bullet just as a gun was fired right outside your door.

Your colleagues jumped, but you set your concentration on removing the piece of metal from this man's body.

The doors to the OT were kicked open as a tall, thin man entered weilding a gun, asking for you. Your staff promptly pointed at your bent figure.

You were still focused on extracting the bullet when the gun cocked next to your ear, "C'mon out Doctor, we need you to treat our boss," Maw commanded you.

Ignoring him, you carefully pulled the metal upwards, looking at the live scan feed on the screen for direction.

"I don't think you heard me Doctor. Leave this man and come with me. Our boss needs you. I will not repeat myself," warned Maw, his venomous voice laced with concern for his boss.

You did not move.

When he pressed the gun to your forehead, your staff gasped in terror, but you refused to budge.

As soon as the damned bullet was out, you dropped it onto a tray along with your gloves, instructed your staff to stitch up the wound, and wordlessly looked at the greasy-haired Maw.

He beckoned you to follow him into Thanos' room where he was being prepped for surgery. You saw Dr Yellowstone tending to him as you approached. "I am sorry Doctor, I told them that you were in a surgery but..." you brushed him off, asking to see the preliminary reports. Dr Yellowstone explained that the bullet wound wasn't deep, and that a simple surgery headed by him would have sufficed, but they were insistent to get you to do the surgery.

"Of course," Maw's sickeningly smooth voice was back in your ear, "We wanted someone who's the best for our boss. And you are the best surgeon in the entire state, aren't you Doctor?" he asked with a sneer.

You continued to ignore him, coordinating with your staff. As Thanos was put in a wheelchair, Maw pulled out his gun again, cocking it near your forehead, "Our boss better be able to move that hand again miss, or tonight will be the last time you use both your hands."

That threat pushed you over the edge. All evening and night of dealing with insensitive jerks like this guy over here had finally made you snap.

You turned towards him, looked at the barrel of his gun and slapped him right across his cheek.

Whether it was the force of your slap, or the fact that your assault had been completely unexpected, nobody could tell, but Maw staggered backwards, his free hand resting on his long reddening cheek where you had struck him.

Thanos jerked in attention at your action. His pain seemed forgotten as he looked at you. Your plump figure stood tall as you glared at Maw.

"Put that gun away or there's more where that came from," you warned him spitefully.

"Nurse, take him to the OT. Dr Yellowstone, coordinate with the blood bank, we might need extra blood. I will see to it that the anesthesia is ready to administer," you left the room after instructing your team. As if you were going to wait around to witness the reaction of Thanos's right-hand man.

In the OT, you saw Thanos' large figure laid on the bed. You approached him with the anesthesia, but he held your hand with his uninjured arm. "Don't," he spoke in his thick voice. "It will hurt. The pain might lead to further complications," you explained. "No. I want to feel your touch," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and cringed on the inside.

As the surgery began, Thanos kept his dark eyes on you. Neither once did he wince with pain, or avert his gaze. Ignoring him, you set about to remove the bullet from his arm, a quick procedure.

"Dr Yellowstone," you said from behind your mask, "stitch the wound and dress it."

"Where are you going?" Thanos asked you plainly, as if you both were sitting in a coffee shop. You ignored him and removed your gloves as Dr Yellowstone approached the patient.

Thanos moved his arm, "No. You will not. She will," he nodded towards you.

Audibly groaning, your assistant helped you in wearing a new pair of gloves.

Finally, with the wound stitched and dressed, you left the OT to tell Maw the good news.

…

3 hours after the surgery, Thanos looked at your file while resting on his bed. Compiled by Maw, this file had every detail of your life, no matter how minute. You had captured his attention unlike anything else, anyone else. He flipped through the pages, learning more about your family, friends, hobby, and profession.

His member twitched when he saw your images from social media. Beneath the doctor's coat, you were plump, curvy and thick, just the way he liked his women. He paused, drinking in your appearance in a swimsuit. Placing a finger on your face, he slowly traced your outline, his finger respecting every bump, every bend till he reached your covered mound. He pressed it, as if hoping to see you react, but you kept on smiling in the image.

Eyes heavy with sleep, he looked around his room. His quiet quarters screamed with opulence. Decorated with the world's most expensive marble, motifs covered in 24k gold, diamond chandelier and Persian rugs, his room paid homage to some of the priceless wonders of the planet. But looking at them now, Thanos realised that none held a candle next to you.

As he settled in to sleep, he smirked. You would make a nice addition to his room.

…

A week later, Thanos surprised his men by driving himself to your hospital. He had taken an appointment, afterall, his wound needed to be checked.

He knocked on your cabin door, entering only when you said to. He smiled warmly at your startled expression, standing patiently next to the chairs across your desk.

"Dione," he interrupted you, "Please call me Dione."

You gathered yourself quickly, "Mr Thanos I-"

He smiled cheekily, he knew he had struck at the right place, at the right time. Extending his arm, he reached out for your palm, holding it gently in his. "Please come in. You must be tired," he said, leading you into your own house.

You squinted your eyes. You remembered reading the strange name on your list of appointments today. "What can I help you with Mr Dione?"

Thanos smiled. He liked the way his name rolled off your lips. "May I take a seat?" You nodded.

Thanos barely fit in the chair, his vast thighs almost bulging out from the sides of the chair. "I think my wound needs to be redressed."

"I thought Maw said he had the best doctors at your beck and call," you spat at him.

"I owe you an apology," he said slowly, "Maw's behaviour that night was appalling, to say the least. I have never hurt or intended to hurt healthcare workers. I regret his actions. Please accept my sincere apologies."

Thanos or Dione, surprised you for the second time that day. His acknowledgement of his staff's misbehaviour left you dumbfounded.

He cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I think my wound needs to be redressed." He turned to his side as much as he could, and displayed the bloodied bandage on his arm.

You asked him to sit on the patient's examining bed in your office and unwrapped his bandage.

"Does it bleed everyday?" you asked.

"No, it started bleeding today. As soon as it did I thought I should visit you."

Thanos looked at you closely. He studied every contour of your face. His right hand fought the urge to cup your cheek and pull you closer to him.

You traced the wound on his left arm and straightened your back, fully aware of his intense gaze on you.

"Mr Thanos…,"

"Mr Dione, please," he interrupted you.

"Mr Thanos," you asserted, "This wound has been reopened by a knife. And judging by the angle of the cut, I think it was you who did it," you stared at his eyes.

He whispered your name, "I just wanted to see you again."

"It's Dr (Y/N) for you," you spoke sharply, "I will fix this wound now. But if you inflict harm upon yourself again, then I will not be able to help you."

Thanos saw you grab your kit and come near him, "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think there was any foot involved, Mr Thanos. The only things that were involved were a gun and my palm on Maw's cheek."

He chuckled softly at the memory. He loved the fire burning in your eyes. He wanted to see what would you look like burning up on his bed, riding waves of pleasure with him.

"Let me make it very clear, because people like you need to get everything spelled out for them," the venom dripping from your words brought his attention back to you, "I do not want to be involved with you Mr Thanos. I have no intention of being a mobster's trophy girlfriend. If you are really thankful for what I did, then you will leave me alone and never set a foot in this hospital again. Have I made myself clear?" you stared at his hungry eyes as you finished bandaging him.

Nobody on the entire planet, not even the President himself, dared to speak with Thanos in that tone. And here you were, staring him down as if he was worthless. It only made him hungrier, knowing that claiming you would be the sweetest reward he can give himself.

…

The rest of the week was thankfully uneventful for you. On Saturday night, you slowly climbed the stairs to your floor, feeling relieved. At least you had the whole of tomorrow to relax.

Reaching your apartment, you found the door unlocked. You stepped backwards, deciding to call the police from your building's security office.

Just then, your door swung open and a smiling Thanos cheerfully greeted you, "Welcome home doctor! Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you take a relaxing hot bath? I have already filled your tub with warm water."

After the exhausting week you had, you had never expected to find Thanos in your home, cooking dinner and preparing a bath. All you could do was stare at him with your mouth open, his black pants draping his thighs perfectly, the blue shirt hugging his muscled arms and torso as if second skin and to top it all, he was wearing your apron, the one with the cute pandas on it. The apron didn't even cover the distance between what you guessed were his nipples.

"I am not Thanos. I am Dione," he voice sounded sincere, "You asked Thanos to leave you alone, not Dione."

You barely felt his touch as he held your palm, again astonished at how gentle this huge beast of a man can be.

He locked the door behind you, took your purse and coat and knelt to untie your shoelaces. You jumped back at that gesture, finally coming to your senses. "What… what are you doing?" you managed to ask.

He looked up at you, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable if your shoes were removed?"

"No."

"No?" Thanos asked.

"Yes, I mean no. No, I meant what…"

Thanos shook his head, amused as he reached down to untie your shoes, ignoring your protests. He got up slowly, his body a mere inch away from yours. He held your eyes with his as he reached behind your head, unclipping your hair. He stood mesmerized as your hair fell down your shoulders, his hand massaging the spot where they were bunched up on your scalp.

You purred at his ministrations, your eyes suddenly widening as you heard the sound escape your lips. He let you move back as you held his gaze. Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive?!

You closed your eyes. No he's a mobster. You cannot be involved with him. No. No. No. Control yourself.

After that evening, you saw Thanos, (or Dione, you didn't really care) everyday in your home. You saw him first thing in the morning as he cooked you a hearty breakfast, and the last person for the day when he made dinner and tucked you in your bed.

You opened your eyes. You can do this. "Thanos and Dione are the same person. I don't want to be involved with you. Leave. Right now," you half-heartedly snarled, reaching for the door. But he put a hand on the lock first, stopping you.

"They aren't the same person. Thanos would never cook for anyone, even for himself. He wouldn't tolerate your disrespectful tone and arrogance. But I am. I want to-"

"Excuse me? Arrogance?" you cocked an eyebrow, "Do you realise the amount of shit I have had to go through after I operated on you? The FBI, CBI, Police and God knows what came pounding down my doors, accusing me of harbouring and aiding a criminal."

"I am well aware," he admitted tersely, "I have made sure that you will not be bothered again."

Your eyes widened as his words sunk in, "Did you kill them?" you whispered, your hands immediately flying to your mouth.

"I didn't," he stated.

A frown formed on your face as you tried to unpack his confession. "Did Thanos get them killed?" you asked with purpose.

Just then, the oven's timer chimed. "Ahh, dinner is ready. I made your favourite lasagna. There's also garlic bread and a cucumber mint salad. Do you still want to take a bath before dinner?" he asked casually as if he hadn't murdered a squad of officers.

Sensing your hesitation, he came over to you, and stepped in your space, "Give me a chance," he urged, "I am not the monster they paint me to be. Allow me to show you who Dione is. Let me cherish you. I promise, as long as I am with you, I will not indulge in any criminal activity. Please. Give us a chance," he finished earnestly, taking both your palms in his hands.

You slowly raised your eyes to meet his, breathing in his luscious, musky scent. His hand caressed your cheek, weaving through your hair as he pulled you closer, delicately. His soft exhale on your lips weakened your knees. But he stopped. The handsome bastard was waiting for you to come closer.

"I will walk a 1000 steps to reach you," he whispered quietly, "if you just take one towards me."

His other hand started a torturous journey up your arm, his touch feather light. His thumb slowly traced the outline of your bottom lip, coming to rest behind your head.

For a second, you were lost in his ministrations. For a second, you wanted to give in to the stillness of the night.

But a loud crash, and a woman's blood-curdling scream interrupted your peace. You jumped, looking in the direction of the noise. Thanos followed your gaze and smiled. He hummed with satisfaction, "Where were we?"

You shook out of his gentle grip and headed towards the direction of the commotion. As you peered down your window, you let out a scream. Down on the road, the body of a SWAT agent was sprawled on top of an indented car. It seemed as if he had fallen off the top of your neighbouring building.

Coming up behind you, Thanos vowed, "I would never engage in illegal activities when I am with you. But Thanos will destroy the world if that's what it takes to protect you."

…

Breakfast in Milan, luncheons in Athens and late night hot chocolate in Paris was enough to sway even the most heartless of the human beings. But you were still on your toes, waiting for this dream to turn into an ugly nightmare.

That wasn't all. He started buying you groceries, and even basic amenities like toothpaste and hairbrush. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw that he had even replenished your tampons.

For all his drawbacks, you couldn't ignore the fact that he never touched you without your consent. He treated you with respect, and cared for you as if you were made with glass. Some nights, when you came home unbelievably late, he was ready to massage your aching feet, while patiently listening to you rant about your day.

The time you spent with him almost felt domesticated. But you knew it was borrowed. Time went by and you started accompanying him on his trips as he refused to let you stay behind. You saw very little of Maw on these trips. Instead his other henchwoman, Proxima, was assigned to you.

"What is holding you back?" he asked you one day, as he brought dinner to your room in Venice, overlooking the city. "I have expressed my love for you in as many ways as I could," his eyes roamed over your body, "I think I have managed to strike the perfect balance between Thanos and Dione. I have done good on my promise to make sure you never see the ugly side of my business. Then why do you still refuse to come to me?"

You looked at him with a frown, "What makes you think I do not see the ugly side of your business? Do you know the amount of drug overdose cases we get in a day?"

Thanos looked out the window, "All those people are aware of the ill-effects of drugs. If they still choose to take it, then how does that make me the villain? Somebody else will sell the drugs if I don't."

"Really? That's your justification? So you owe nothing to the people whose lives are destroyed by your drugs and guns? What about the poor? The young who are addicted to your substance?" you argued in an accusing tone.

"I donate 10% of my earnings to them. But I can't help everyone," he justified.

Thanos chewed in silence as he considered your words, "Will you give yourself to me if I donate half of my wealth?" he looked at you after a few moments.

"10% is not even a dip in your ocean of riches Dione. You want to talk about striking a balance? Then donate 50% of your wealth to those who actually need the money. Auction off your antiques, your collectibles. Build schools, donate to NGOs, be good and help the people, the portion of the society who needs you the most," you tried to convince him.

You softly pushed your plate away, "No amount of charity can justify the killings Dione."

As Thanos gripped his fork tighter at your words, you swore you saw the metal bend. "I have to do what needs to be done to protect you. Even if it means spilling the blood of a few agents of the law. Do you think they will protect you from me? You are nothing but a source of information for them. As soon as they are done with you they will toss you aside like useless garbage. Your identity, your entire life will be erased from the record. You don't want me to protect you like that? Okay. Then what would you have me do?" he demanded an answer.

You met his gaze, your silence filling the conversation with words.

"I cannot just quit. I have spent my whole life building this empire and I am not about to give it up," he claimed through gritted teeth.

"But what did it cost you?" It was your turn to surprise him with your question.

"Everything," he admitted, "and more. But this was all I have ever had. There was no reason for me to leave this-"

"You do have a reason now," you interrupted him.

You dragged your chair towards Thanos and sat beside him. Placing a hand on his heart, you kept your eyes on him. "You have a reason now," you repeated in a whisper.

You saw a myriad of emotions cross his eyes. Taking advantage of his astonishment, you kissed his shoulder and rested your forehead on it. You felt his heart beating faster.

Thanos was glad your head was on his shoulder, as he didn't want you to see the tears in his eyes. This was the first time you had initiated any form of affection towards him. He held your hand, the one on his heart, and kissed it with a promise.

…

Officer Natasha Romanoff hurried towards Steve Rogers' office. She entered without knocking.

"Hey there! Knock before you-" Tony Stark, the Weapons Contacter tried to speak before Natasha cut him short.

"Steve, you need to hear this," Natasha looked at him.

In the last few months, thanks to Steve's bravery in the shoot-out with Thanos's men, he had been promoted to the highest ranking covert field agent at the FBI.

Steve nodded, requesting Tony to reschedule the meeting. As soon as they had the privacy, Natasha filled him in on the news. "Thanos is donating 50% of his wealth to charities and NGOs across the country. He's moving with his girl to Mauritius."

"He's building a new base there?" Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"No, he's retiring. If he gets on that plane then we will lose him forever."

"Hmmm," he considered her words, "I have a plan."

…

Thanos had advised you against going back to your apartment, arguing that all of your stuff was already packed and on the way to the flight. But you were relentless. You had to go back to retrieve a piece of your legacy which you were sure his men must have missed.

He watched in amazement as you removed the photo frame from your wall and tore the wallpaper, revealing a cavity inside.

You retrieved a box, wiping the dust off of it. Walking towards Thanos, you opened the box to reveal 6 rings. "These belonged to my grandfather. He always believed that there are six traits that make a man. He gave me these rings on his deathbed, and asked me to pass it on to the man who I deemed worthy." Pointing to the ring with the purple stone, you recited your grandfather's words, "Be with a man who commands Power," yellow stone- "But make sure he has a kind Soul," orange stone- "He should be able to read your Mind," green stone- "However, he must know the value of Time," red stone- "He should be able to accept his Reality," and lastly, the blue stone- "But, he should give you the world, the galaxy, the entire Space, if need be."

Holding out the box for him, you presented him with the rings. You smiled indulgently as you wiped his tears. He took your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You laughed as he hugged your hand, "This is the second most precious gift I have ever been given."

You tilted your head, puzzled, "What is the most precious gift?"

"You."

…

Steve saw you and Thanos exit the building, hand in hand like two lovestruck teenagers. "Team Alpha, if you have a clear shot take it. But do not fatally wound him. We need him alive. I repeat, we need him alive. Team Omega, standby for the extraction. Team Beta, grab the First Aid Kit as soon as the Patient is hit" he commanded into the walkie-talkie using their codewords for you and Thanos.

"You still haven't told me where are we going," you pouted slightly as you walked towards the car. "Patience love, all in good time," Thanos smiled down at you. "This is White Wolf Team Alpha, firing in 3...2...," Bucky spoke in his earpiece.

"Wherever we are going, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," you spoke. "...1." You suddenly turned to face Thanos, and started walking backwards, your hand still in his.

The bullet pierced the space above your heart, before colliding with Thanos's bulletproof vest. Gunshots reduced to dull thuds around you as you collapsed in Thanos's arms, your blood staining his shirt.

You didn't notice when he carried you to the car. You didn't notice the speeding car coming to a halt. All you could hear was his panicked voice, and feel his pounding heart.

"Maw why are we stopping?" Thanos screamed at his henchman.

"Sire, there is a traffic jam ahead. We can't take any other route. There are rows of cars behind us. We are trapped," he said regretfully.

"I don't care! Kill them all, clear the road with explosives. She needs to get to a hospital NOW!" Thanos's voice boomed as panic gripped his heart.

"Sire we can't use explosives, the road might cave in. Proxima is arranging for a mobile hospital as we speak. They should be here soon," Maw spoke with hope.

Cradling you in his arms, Thanos pushed your hair back from your face, "Stay with me. Please stay with me. Don't leave me now. Please… no…"

"Hey," you managed to say in a cracked voice as tears escaped his eyes, "Dione," he looked at you, "I will... always be with you... my love," you struggled to caress his cheek as he held your arm.

"Please please please no," he pleaded.

You gasped as a new jolt of pain ran through your body, "I… I love you… Di… Dione," you smiled.

A heart-wrenching scream escaped Thanos as he held your lifeless body. His anguish lost in the traffic of vehicles blaring their horns.

…

"Sire," Maw's voice broke Thanos from his reverie. He turned to look at the box in Maw's hand. In the dim light of his room, he opened the lid to see the severed head of James Buchanan Barnes.

"Steve Rogers has gone underground sire, but we will soon find him," Maw promised.

"He is not the real problem Maw," Thanos turned back to the window, "Do you remember what the doctor had said? If we would have gotten her to the hospital in time, she would have been alive today."

He paused, looking down the crowded city before him, "She died because we couldn't get her to the hospital earlier. What had caused the traffic jam?"

"Two cars had gotten into an accident, which caused a pile up on the road," Maw explained.

"That pile up wouldn't have occurred 10 years ago. In the last 2 decades, there has been a population boom which has ended up putting a strain on resources. Governments across the world are refusing to tackle this problem and in fact, are boastful of the increase in their population." As if on cue, he saw large groups of people fill up the sidewalk as hundreds of cars poured onto the road, everybody eager to reach home after their workday.

"What do you mean sire?"

"The scales of the world have been tipped unevenly, Maw. Balance needs to be restored to the order of the planet. The rich can't have an endless supply of luxury while the poor scramble for basic sustenance. She was right, we need to help the poor, but we can't wipe out those in power completely."

Thanos looked at the setting sun with determination, "It is time to kill half of humanity."

Maw inhaled sharply, "Sire! How would we manage-"

"The drugs," said Thanos simply, "50% of our cargo will contain lethal drugs till we achieve our target. Distribute it randomly throughout our supply chain for the next 6 months."

Maw paused for a moment. The severity of this crime left him dumbstruck. "Sire," he spoke at last, "She wouldn't have wanted this."

Thanos looked at the 6 rings on his fingers. "She wanted to live Maw. But she couldn't. She always tried to help people as much as she could. This is the only way we can fulfill her wish, by helping people across the globe."

"By killing people across the globe," Maw meekly argued.

"You kill everyday for a living Maw. Why has this idea turned your silver tongue into a knot?"

He could only gulp in response.

"The world needs correction Maw. Now more than ever. The lethal drugs should be shipped from tomorrow onwards. I would find it unpleasant to feed your body to our dogs, if you fail your duty," Thanos' thinly veiled threat hung in the air like a sword.

Maw bowed down, "As my sire wishes," and left the room in quite a hurry.

Thanos walked towards your painting on the wall opposite to his bed, the only ornamentation in his otherwise desolate room.

"You will see my love," he cooed, "we will see the sun rise on a grateful world together."

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

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jasonspetertodds · 3 years

Text

the skeleton with a scythe

warnings: swearing, mentions of character death

Jason glanced around the basement that they were in, trying not to suffocate at the sheer amount of velvet that was covering the walls. There were fuchsia colored scones on the walls that illuminated the large neon purple light on the back wall. He squinted, not being able to make out the name, but he didn't supposed that mattered. He rolled his eyes at Steph who was merely grinning up at him, her hair had been pulled back into two small ponytails at the crown of her head with the rest being down. It gave her the illusion of having even more volume then she normally did with her curly blonde hair.

She was dressed in her trademark color, but this time it was a soft lavender instead of the royal purple of her uniform. She had talked to him endlessly on the way there about how she had found her shoes, which were vintage white leather platforms, at the thrift store Jason had recommended. Trying to distract him from the fact that she was leading him to seedy basement in the heart of the Alley. A basement that housed a self proclaimed 'psychic'. Jason knew realistically that soothsayers, at least in some part, existed. He did exist in a world full of aliens and magic.

But Jason knew this was a scam and so did Steph. He hadn't been able to taste the tell tale nectar sweetness of magic when he stepped foot into the parlor. She had sourced the fact that it was just a fun thing to do at least once in his life and Jason had begrudgingly found himself staring into the depths of the weird vintage poster on the back wall. The pink neon light flickered in the corner behind him. He was, for the most part, down to try something at least once. And he didn't really see the harm in indulging Steph, especially when she was trying so hard to make him feel comfortable.

And Jason was only going to admit this in the privacy of his own mind, but it was actually kind of sweet.

And Jason wanted to maintain the best relationship he had in the family to the best of his ability, especially because it offered the unlimited possibility of tag teaming his siblings but also Bruce.

"So?" Steph asked, gently prodding his side with her elbow, pulling him away from being entranced by what looked to be a rat skull with a peacock feather coming out from the eye socket. It also had a top hat on and a little bow tie. Jason looked at her flatly and then shrugged. He was interested to see where the night went, with what story this psychic was going to spit back out to him. It was at the very least going to be entertaining.

"I don't know," He finally, eyes shifting around the room, "It should be fun, I guess."

He saw her roll her eyes and cross her arms over her chest. He shrugged again, unbothered. His eyes settled on a stack of crystals sitting on a bookshelf next to a book. Jason squinted, not wanting to step any closer to the center table with a deck of cards spread out over it, trying to read it. It looked like a copy of Daemonologie by King James of all fucking people. Jason almost huffed out a laugh. Almost.

"Can you at least pretend to be excited about the prospect of spending time with your favorite honorary sibling?" She grumbled, exasperated. Jason gave her an amused smile, but before he could respond he heard footsteps outside of the parlor.

There was the small ringing of the bell behind him and Jason immediately regretted his former words. He could taste the stinging sweetness in the lower part of his jaw, pooling just under his molars as he heard the soft approach of footsteps. Steph must've seen him stiffen, but he was so thankful that she didn't say anything about it, just threw him a questioning look.

Why was it that he always attracted magic users?

He sighed internally, steeling himself before he turned and saw a rather young looking witch smiling back at his companion. Steph had mentioned offhandedly that she had also dragged Cass and Tim to the same psychic a while ago with interesting results. She had bright lavender dyed hair that was piled up into two buns just behind the crown of her head and a blinding smile. She was also wearing a full length velvet dress, which seemed like an oddly formal attire choice, but maybe Jason was just being judgemental.

She gave Jason a strange look when she slide past him, heeled boots muffled on the strange astral Persian rugs beneath their feet and the skirt of her dress swishing gently as she wandered back behind her table. Had Jason forgotten to greet her?

"Hi," He said, hesitantly, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice as he watched her. He didn't know why he was on edge. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up and like he wanted to claw his skin off. Maybe he should talk to Zantana or Constantine about how magic was affecting him in his second life, because the woman sitting in front of him didn't seem like a threat. If she was, Jason already would've taken her down. Besides, maybe she wasn't a psychic in the way that she was able to tell that he was a dangerous, murderous vigilante. Maybe she was just a witch who misread his discomfort for skepticism. Was that too much to hope for? For Jason, it probably was.

He was wary, to say the least when he finally followed suit and sat down at the table to the right of Steph. She still was looking at him weird, but he figured he could explain himself later. He forced himself to relax, trying not to flex his jaw as it tingled like it did when he ate sour candies, covered with acetic acid. Piercing through the muscle and down to the bone. At least he didn't feel like throwing up... yet. He straightened his posture, trying to keep as close to a neutral expression on his face as he possibly good, trying to ignore the way his eyes glowed in the mirror of to the side of him.

Steph tapped him gently on the forearm, feather light, a question. Jason's face softened and he nodded, trying his best to convey that he was alright. He was fine. This was okay. He could deal with the unease worming around in his soul for the forty five minutes it took for this to happen. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as the blond relaxed, nodding once and offering a slight smile to the woman with the cards.

The woman before him offered him an unsure smile, before motioning to the deck in front of her before she began cheerily, "Welcome!"

Jason offed a nod of acknowledgement and Steph's smile morphed into a brilliant one, mischief alight in her eyes at the night's events. He was focused more on keeping his face as politely blank as he possibly could without it being mistaken for rudeness. He watched as she reached forward, ring clad fingers curling around the majority of the deck of tarot cards. At first he thought she was going to start shuffling them, but instead she knocked three times on the top of the stack. Maybe to cleanse it? Jason glanced back up at her face, uncertainty writhing around in the pit of his stomach.

"My name is Iris and I'm hoping to do a reading for you tonight...?" She trailed off, waiting for Jason to answer. Her voice was cheery but Jason was still hung up on the name. Iris... like the Greek goddess of rainbows and a messenger of the Gods? Because something was tugging at the back of his mind, like the Pit often did and Jason didn't believe in coincidences.

"Jason." He responded, watching as Steph relaxed further into her chair, shoulders slumping as she leaned further back, completely at ease. The witch nodded, handing the cards over to Jason. He looked at her confused for a second before he started to shuffle. Iris smiled, "It's better for you to shuffle, so the cards can have a better sense of your character."

Jason raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. She continued, "I'm going to have you pull three cards first, since this is a general reading and then we can go from there, okay?"

He nodded, feeling how worn the corners of the cards were in his hands and how soft the glossy backing was, almost like the backing of a well loved paperback. He furrowed his brow, methodically sliding them around in his hands, trying to keep them from getting caught on each other before he finally decided that was enough. Three cards. He placed the deck on the edge of the table with great care and with a splayed palm he spread them out to the best of his ability. He sat back, suddenly noticing how sweaty his palms were before he took a deep breath, readying himself. The fact that a stupid throw away magic trick was having this much of an effect on him was ridiculous.

He eyeballed it, before tugging free a card in what he thought was the middle of the pile. He pulled it in front of Iris before he took two from each of the ends of the pile. He waited, licking his lips in anticipation when his mouth was suddenly dry, watching as she turned over his cards.

She painstakingly overturned the first card that he had pulled and he nearly choked back a laugh which turned into a choke when Steph elbowed him harshly in the ribs, glaring. There, looking tauntingly back up at him, was a skeleton draped in a black cloak upon a horse, holding a scythe with the neat little letters spelling out Death underneath the scene.

And oh god, was that fucking funny.

Iris seemed a little confused, as she tapped one purple talon against the card, before speaking, "Don't freak out about that card. Everyone always freaks out over him."

She flipped over the next two cards; One of a man looking over a cliff, a stick in hand with two others driven in the ground next to him. It read Three of Wands and one showing three swords piercing a bleeding heart. From Jason’s position the last one was upside down. Three seemed to be a big number for him tonight.

Jason remembered very suddenly three motifs in literature, when he was in high school slaving endlessly over research papers and book analyses, more often then not it was a Holy number. But it is the repetition of the cycle: birth, life, death. Of the passage of time, past; present; future. Jason again had to keep himself from snorting.

Omne trium perfectum.

Iris leaned over the cards, humming to herself as she flattened them, eyes glowing faintly under the scrutiny of the lights around her parlor. Steph looked curiously at her, “So? What does it mean?”

“Well,” She started, talon back to rapping gently against the glossy front of Death, drawing Jason’s attention, “Death is the first card you pulled. It means that you’re going to undergo change— growth if you will, but it’s specifically change followed by a period of renewal to yourself and your strength. That change leads to closure, an end to a chapter of your life.”

Jason was smirking now and he could see some of the humor return to Steph’s face at the acknowledgement. It was more than a little on the nose. He watched as Iris moved to the next two cards, flipping the wand cards around in her hand as she was thinking, "Three of wands points to foresight and a journey..." She trailed off, glancing at his other two cards, biting her lip in concentration and Jason felt his eyebrows raise further up to his hairline, "But in the context of your other two cards I think it's going to be more of a spiritual journey instead of a physical one. It also is going to lead to monumental growth. Whatever you decide, you'll have an immense amount of confidence in your plan."

"And the three of swords reversed also points to growth and recovery. You recently went through a rough time? Maybe some animosity between those in your family?"

Jason nodded. He wasn't going to offer up any more information that absolutely vital and he may have had one particularly bad fight with Dick in his little kitchenette the week before. It was interesting that the cards did seem to represent past, present, and future as he had originally suspected. He frowned, though. Death wasn't in his past. Based on the way the cards were set up, Death was his future. It was the first card he had pulled, with the three of wands being in the middle, as his present, while the three of swords being his past.

"It points to reconciliation, even though it was on the past, I think you're journey currently is learning to forgive your family--" God, Jason was trying so hard not to laugh. He heard Steph snicker beside him. "All signs point to reconciliation on both sides. Once that happens you can finally put to rest this chapter in your life and start your renewal as Death wants."

She tapped the three of wands again, "And you're on that journey, though I can't say when you'll achieve the final outcome."

Jason nodded, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he absolutely was not going to process his feelings about this reading until he was home, safe and sound, alone in his apartment. His head was already swimming. Sure, he had reconciled with Steph, but he hadn't really done anything to wrong her in the first place. He had tried to kill her ex a couple of times while they were together, but she seemed to have forgiven him. And they just clicked. Shared background and feelings of being the failed Robins. And Alfred. Alfred hadn't been the one to excommunicate him. He knew the butler could never do that. He saw Jason as a man who had simply lost his way in the whirlwind of his life, but he had never once doubted Jason's character...

And nope, Jason was going to back out of that emotionally charged alleyway before it overtook him in public.

"It's interesting," Iris said, breaking him out of his thoughts as she started collecting the cards and shuffling them back into the deck, "You also seem to have a very strong connection with the color green. You have a lot of rebirth symbols surrounding yourself, Jason."

"His birth cards are the chariot and the tower." Steph admitted, a cheeky grin on her face. Birth cards? Jason shot her a bewildered look before she rolled her eyes, "You add up the date of your birthday and you get pair of twelve sets of tarot cards. I did it before we came."

"Why?"

She shrugged, unbothered by his harsh tone, "I was curious."

"The chariot and the tower are a powerful combination. You'll be able to overcome anything thrown at you in your life. Though, you'll be in a constant state of change because of the Tower. Ripping yourself down to the foundation again and again to rebuild a stronger and better foundation for you to stand on while the Chariot brings stabilizing energy and the will for you to be able to complete your tasks, overcoming every obstacle every inconvenience on its way to deliver you to fate. It's often the card of warriors. They're painful cards, but eventually pain will stop being the driving force behind your transformation. You'll be the driving force behind the change you inflict both on yourself and the world."

Jason titled his head with a look of disbelief painted on his features, a small uncertain frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Even if he did believe in this particular brand of magic, which he hadn't fully decided on at that exact moment, this wasn't exactly a positive reading. It wasn't like he was a stranger to any pain, his entire life had been seeped in the worst kinds of emotional and physical trauma most people could conjure up themselves. But what she had just said rang very similarly to what Ducra had said to him. Something about how glorious it will be when his heart shined brighter than his fury.*

And, something something, he needed to recover. Which he did it's just kind of hard working through his complex emotions featuring his adoptive father, all of his siblings, the clown that killed him, his own self worth and his ethics when there was an almost world ending event biweekly. And he did think he was being significantly more successful in terms of his recovery. He had at least started paying attention to shit that triggered him and was trying to take care of himself more than he ever had in his entire life. And that was something, right?

He still had a shattered mirror in his bathroom that held all the memories of him hunched over his basin, blood sometimes dried but always sticky on his hands as he tried to make sense of who he was. He was a mosaic of every person he had ever come in contact with, of a dead kid, a murdered robin, a current outlaw, of his father, all of his mentors and all of his siblings. He was full of jagged edges and unholy rage, but it was hard not to get lost in all the different patterns and colors he possessed. His breathing would be ragged and his eyes unfocused, he was the combination sum of everything that happened to him. Both good and bad and sometimes the bad one out the night, but more frequently it was the good. He was Jason. In ever manner that he acted. He was a vigilante. A fighter. A protector. He protected the people of Crime Alley to the best of his ability, he was a protector of children, of sex workers, of anyone who needed it. And he was trying to be better. For himself and the people he was so admit on protecting.

"Jay?"

He hummed a response, pulled from his thoughts at Steph's voice. She gave him a questioning look and he was very suddenly hit with the crisp cool air of the night. They were outside, walking through the Alley in the direction of her apartment. His hands were jammed in his pockets, feeling the sharp edge of something as he rubbed his thumb along the edge. He furrowed his eyebrows, "You good? You seem pretty spaced out."

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't really expect for that to go the way it did," He offered, still tracing the thing in his pocket, "I don't really know why it effected me this much."

She tugged her jacket closer around herself, nodding, "Yeah. The first time I went all of my cards seemed to be linked back to my, uh, death. Do you want to talk about it? I know I didn't actually die, but it might help?"

Jason flinched at her mention of her death and the casual admission that she didn't actually die. As if that made it any less traumatic. Immediately he shook head, "No. No, I'll be okay I think. It was largely positive. It's just..."

He felt his entire face screw up as he tried to think of what he was trying to express, he finally settled on, "Weird."

Steph nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence. He palmed the card, slipping it out of his pocket to look at it and was torn between an exasperated sigh and a smirk of amusement. Death seemed to be rather attached to him.

#this has nothing to do with anything #i just wanted to have some practice writing steph #did my wattpad writer come out when describing steph's outfit? maybe #jason todd #red hood #jason todd fanfic #red hood fanfic #my writing #stephanie brown #spoiler #*jason absolutely remembers the exact quote that Ducra said to him he's just in a weird place with his emotions #i'm not super happy with this one :/#just because i don't think i have enough developed dialogue between steph and jay #ill take a crack at steph again soon #becuase i love her as a character i just have to flesh her out a bit more #i'm sorry! i'm trying

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zerobotic · 3 years

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Well, you asked for it and you can’t say I didn’t warn you :3

First off, the usual disclaimer that I did enjoy DH2. I thought it had some very interesting level design ideas with the clockwork mansion and crack in the slab, the new powers were very cool and fun to use, and it polished some of the rough edges from the first game’s mechanics. It’s just the story and such that disappointed me after how much I loved the first game.

So to start off here’s some of the things I found disappointing or frustrating (and keep in mind these are all just my personal feelings on the games):

“Spoiled rich person learns a lesson from poverty tourism” is a plot that gets on my nerves in general and that’s more or less what happened here with Emily’s story

Like, not to disagree with an anti-rich-people story but the first one did a much more poignant job of highlighting greed and corruption and letting you be the one actually fighting it, rather than putting you in the position of perpetuating it. It felt like the first game showed it, while the second game just preached about it.

Boy this sure did feel out of character for both Corvo and Emily. Emily watched her mother be murdered at ten years old for the sake of political power, and then was held hostage for six months while being told her father was executed for her mother’s death. She got a firsthand view of how much the people of the empire were suffering during this time, and then when she finally got rescued she was immediately kidnapped and used as a pawn again by yet more schemers after her mother’s throne. You cannot tell me that’s a person who would grow up to be spoiled and carefree and complacent with their position, or someone who wouldn’t give a shit about their people. Yes, I know that she was a headstrong, rebellious kid with an adventurous streak, and I’m not trying to claim she wouldn’t probably still prefer, on some level or another, to escape to the rooftops with a sword rather than being stuck in court. I’m just saying that kids grow up and change and whoever wrote the second game seems to be stuck on taking ten-year-old Emily at face value for her adult self’s personality too, instead of considering how the first game’s events might have actually influenced her. She’s got more than enough firsthand experience to know to be wary of scheming nobles. (Also I definitely got the feeling, playing the first game, that at least a bit of how Emily behaved at the Hound Pits was her trying to cope with what was happening.) You also can’t tell me that Corvo, father and royal protector of the current empress, man with the most reason and justification to be paranoid out of everyone in the whole damn empire after everything he’s been through, would be so negligent in paying attention to a coup that the first mission claims pretty much everyone in Dunwall knew was happening.

Building off of that, in general it felt like the first game wasn’t allowed to have much of an impact. It pays lipservice to Jessamine’s death, and acknowledges Corvo having been a badass back then, but that’s....about it? Like I said in the other post, the first game felt so saturated in grief, both for Jessamine and for everything else going on in Dunwall, that it really influenced the overall tone of the game. The second one kinda feels like the first one never happened, or at least didn’t have any lasting influence on the characters or world, and it’s kind of jarring going from one to the other.

So with all that said, here’s my idea for a different DH2. Still using Karnaca as the setting and Delilah as the primary antagonist, just...different.

"Delilah wants to use a reality-altering painting to change the world into her vision of it” is still a plot point. Except, instead of the end of the game, it’s the beginning. It’s a logical extension of her actions and powers during the Daud DLC - the plan to use Emily’s painting to take over almost worked til it was stopped, so there’s clearly potential there. She’ll just think bigger, more direct this time.

The game starts on a ship. Emily and Corvo are en route to Karnaca for some sort of diplomatic mission. We get to know them a little bit during this opening trip: Emily isn’t an absent, complacent ruler, she's a young woman who inherited a difficult throne as a child, after a series of traumatic events, and now she's trying hard to live up to her mother's legacy and prove herself worthy to an empire that still seems to only see her as the child she was during the interregnum. She’s doing her best, but she’s insecure about all of that, and spends a lot of time frustrated with the back and forth scheming of the nobles, trying to please everyone instead of putting her foot down and getting things done. Corvo is trying to keep her safe where he failed Jessamine, but court still isn’t his preferred arena either.

The night before they’re due to arrive in Karnaca, we start getting hints that something is...off. Strange dreams, maybe?

They land in Karnaca and things are different than expected. But they don’t get time to look around, because there's guards there to arrest them, claiming they’re wanted criminals. They’ve got music boxes or something that can strip Corvo of his powers, and only one of them gets away while the other is taken. The one that gets away is stuck alone, disoriented, and hunted in an unfamiliar city - even if you play as Corvo, things are different than he remembers. More different than can be explained by just time.

They meet Meagan Foster. She takes them to meet a group of ex-whalers (the player character doesn’t know who they are). They’re a group that got back in touch with each other in Karnaca after Daud left and the whalers split, and they still do shady shit, but these days it’s generally more smuggling type stuff and they’ve put down the assassin blades. They’re the equivalent of the loyalist home base in this game. Meagan is still the Samuel stand-in, taking the player places and narrating things as necessary.

Information is shared and the player finds out that somehow, the world is changed from what they remember. Delilah is the empress, here, come by it what seemed like legitimately at some point in the 15 years between Jessamine’s death and now, and Emily and Corvo are wanted criminals. No one seems aware of the change except for the player and the whalers (who only remember it because of their experience with magic, though the player character doesn’t learn that til much later).

Clearly it’s Delilah who did something, because she has magic, and she’s the one on the throne now.

The Outsider shows up in their dreams that first night in the new world, but something is clearly wrong in the void, too, and it seems like he’s barely capable of reaching out and communicating with them. He offers the mark, but disappears before really getting a chance to explain anything.

The player goes through the game now with the goal of finding out what happened, how it happened, and how it can be fixed. DH2 and DOTO explained a lot more than I felt they should’ve, at times, and I preferred how the first game balanced worldbuilding with mystery. So, let things be explored and figured out along the way.

Things are real bad in this universe. From Emily's perspective as she goes through the game, we get commentary questioning whether or not she was doing a good job, and comparing it to how things are in Delilah's world. There’s lots of corruption and poverty and people suffering, and the question "is this just Delilah's world? How much of this going on in mine too? In trying to navigate court instead of putting my foot down, was I failing my people in the end after all? Would it have been better if my mother was still the empress?" The difference between this and what DH2 did is that she was trying, there was just a lot hindering her, including her own doubts. In this one, those questions aren’t preaching, they’re a sign that she does care and is pained by the idea of her people suffering like this again, by the mere possibility that it might not be just Delilah’s world.

Corvo and Emily have distinct perspectives, not just the same lines very slightly altered.

The bloodfly infestations are either 1) a natural thing that wasnt supposed to turn ugly like this and has been affected by Delilah’s magic, or 2) wholly the product of unnatural magic. None of this "we need them and they’re always like this, just not this bad" stuff. if you're gonna repeat the plague motif, make it actually horrifying, like the rat plague was. In fact, there’s obvious magic influence here and there in general - maybe not quite as thorough as at Brigmore Manor, but it’s present enough to give you the creeping feeling that things aren’t right, here, visual confirmation of Delilah’s influence, that things have been changed and twisted from their normal state of things. Hell, maybe this is where the hollows from DOTO come in, the original world and Delilah’s altered version of it trying to bleed through each other in some spaces. Maybe that’s a different explanation for the crack in the slab mission, even.

Actually, if you’re gonna repeat the plague motif, lean into the similarities between the rat plague era and now. Have them be reminded here and there by things they see, recount what happened and how terrible it was, compare it to now. Give NPCs lines about the comparison and how some of them left Dunwall only to be stuck living through something like this a second time. Let the first game have happened and had an impact, folks, cmon.

On a similar note, if you’re gonna keep Delilah's backstory the same when we finally learn it, let Emily and Corvo get mad about it. They lived through the first game - what right does Delilah have to talk like she's got a monopoly on suffering and that's why she should have the throne?

Delilah's mistake was assuming Emily was a sheltered child who wouldn’t come for her, rather than someone who's already been through a lot and come out on top. That was almost a satisfying thing about the second game but they messed up the execution of the whole concept and I want it to actually pay off.

I’m not sure if the targets in this one should be the same or how much should change there. Honestly, except for Breanna, the targets in DH2 felt a lot less relevant to what was going on than the DH1 targets did, like...why are half these people even at this ritual? But for simplicity’s sake let’s keep it as close as we can, while also adjusting for the fact that this reality has been tailor-made for Delilah and her buddies. Perhaps the Duke is only the Duke here because things were rewritten to put one of Delilah’s allies in charge, and it was supposed to still be his father. Hypatia isn’t the crown killer (what even was that plot point honestly), she’s the doctor they found to help Delilah recover after her time in the void, and now they’ve rewritten things to imprison her in the institute to keep her quiet and out of the way, and you get wind of it and go to see what she knows. Etc. Is Sokolov involved in this version of things? I dunno! But speaking of Sokolov I want some sort of explanation for where the other surviving loyalists are, damnit.

Delilah did something in and to the void, just like in canon, but it actually has a visible impact here (beyond just a total aesthetic redesign of the void between games that never gets commented on). The void is struggling under her influence when you find shrines, and you never know what you're gonna find at one of them, or what the Outsider is gonna be like, if he even shows up. Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of the way DH2 gave him a human backstory, because I liked the mystery there behind what he was and what the void was, but this is open to go either way, either with Delilah finding his death site like in canon, or some other way she found to influence it. I’m not sure how the progression would go of how the void changes over the course of the game, but it would be cool to get to help/save the Outsider in some kinda way.

Finding Corvo's childhood home should have more impact. Let it be like when you find the saferoom in Dunwall tower, in the first game. A temporary refuge in a dangerous place, full of obvious memory and grief - not so much for the time spent here since that's so long in the past, but for all that's been lost, everything they've been through and are in the middle of going through. Especially if you're playing Emily - this is the home of the father she just lost.

Let the heart be vague and ominous again, and let our interactions with it be sad, especially as Emily! I’m still messed up about the first time I heard "the doom of Pandyssia has come to the city" in DH1, and the lines about the floodwaters and the plague victims, give me stuff like that! Especially in a world that isn’t meant to exist the way it currently is, where things have been twisted almost beyond recognition. And give me lines that remind Emily of the mother she lost and how this is the first time she's heard her voice since she was a child!

Give us more on citizens and how they're suffering in this world, the way the first game showed us plague victims who died in each other's arms, journals from the desperate and dying, living people sent to the flooded district. Let it be a reminder to Emily why it's worth it, why she has to change the world back and what she wants to be fighting for when she gets her throne back. Another reason to question - has she been doing all she can? (Alternatively, a source of righteous fury for high chaos Emily.)

This is a journey of self discovery for Emily, either low or high chaos. It's about realizing she hasn’t been doing all she could, despite her intentions, because she's been trying to please everyone and in the end it still wasn’t good enough. She needs to stop living under her mother's shadow and come into her own (and the heart plays a role in this epiphany, probably. This might actually come to a head when she has to let her mother's spirit go, if we're gonna keep that plot point.)

High chaos Emily is similar but in a more "alright no more nice empress" kinda way whereas low chaos is more about conviction to put her foot down to do what's right.

You meet people during the game who in a good ending become part of her new council. Common people, who are more in touch with what needs to be done. It pisses nobles off but she's determined to do better, after everything. It helps both her and Corvo come to terms with the whole safety thing, because you can't ever make sure you're totally safe but you can try to make sure the empire can keep going should something happen to its ruler.

In fact, part of Corvo's perspective on this game probably would involve him still wanting to keep Emily out of things for safety's sake, and wondering if sheltering her from knowledge of magic and such contributed to this situation.

When it's revealed who the whalers are, it's late in the game after we've already come to like them a lot. They don't betray you like the loyalists did, but it should still feel like a punch to the gut for Emily and Corvo.

They don’t know where Daud is, haven’t seen him since the whalers disbanded .

Billie talks about that whole thing, and it's complicated. She decides maybe she should try to find him, after all. Cue DLC, which is about finding Daud, and helping/saving him, and the two reconciling and Billie finding some kind of...if not redemption, then absolution. A parallel to the first game’s DLC, Billie getting an arc like that in Emily’s game the way Daud got that arc in Corvo’s game. Y’know, instead of DOTO going and undoing all of Daud’s character growth.

I know I’m kind of handwaving the actual mechanics of who the targets are and how you actually go about uncovering what happened and how you can fix it and take down Delilah in the end, but this is all just. Concepts. If I were to try to write this as a fic or something I’d have to actually sit down and work out all those details, but for now this is something that’s just been living in my head since like an hour after I finished DH2 for the first time a couple years ago.

(I did warn you it was gonna be long lmao)

#turnabout rambles #mvtk42

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thecrenellations · 3 years

Text

Return of the Thief Notes, Part One: The Book of Pheris, Volume I

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part Two | Part Three | TaT)

Contents: "So, so, so” watch, Costis watch, swearing, trashing the king’s attendants, being objectively wrong, boundless enthusiasm and love

I promise I’ve had more developed thoughts since these often incoherent ones, but I’ve enjoyed having these notes to refer to - for sentimental reasons and for entertainment, so here they are, for others who enjoy liveblogs and/or being whisked back in time to their first read of this wonderful book.

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Dedication, Table of Contents, Exordium:

There it is – to Sounis

Exordium – vocab #1

Interregnum?!? Alyta?

Pheris!!!

Yeah I love him from the first page

MOIRA

MOCKING COMMENTS HELP! Gen lives!

A new level of unreliable narrator

Moira, messages of Gods, Pheris, messages of __

Wtf is going on in this study? A zoo?

high king vs great king vs annux?

okie dokie dude

Chapter 1

1. Susa – Costis

2. Infirmity – who gets to be hero/tell story (I started reading right after the book launch, in which mwt spent some time talking about her writing influences and decisions connect to this question - Pheris isn’t her first disabled protagonist and storyteller, of course, but it was lovely to meet him properly directly after hearing her talk about it. Book launch foreshadowing part 1...)

Melisande?

Is this why he wasn’t taught to read?

3. Always the summer

Bees!

4. Hunting cat… hm…

Ok … shrine … 😬

5. Once again we start with a disaster or having to flee

Which Eugenides precipitated

Bite!

Little monster :(

6. Falling…

7. :( :( :(

His purpose? D:

8. YIKES

Chapter 2

9. Hello there! (Gen!)

Massive chair?

10. CRACKED WATER JUG (amphora motif???)

11. Triangle from seal!

Gen that’s rude to Pheris :( (“He will fit in very well with my attendants”)

Wait. This must have happened before ACoK! (nope)

12. :(

Xikander … never made an impression before

How old is Pheris? (lol)

13. Philologos come thru!

Royal closet reappears!

14. Hello weird secondhand scene!

He is Eugenides

Marina…

15. Petrus? GALEN? OH SHIT!

Is this why Galen was called? (nope)

16. Hell yea Petrus

Miras’ golden balls oh no

All these previously unnamed sucky attendants!

17. Ula – goddess of hearth and healing

Ok … Galen … or a god? Eugenides????? (why did these options occur to me before Mr. Shows Up At Your Bedside At Night himself)

18. Finally the attendant floor plans I crave + hunting scenes!

19. EXCUSE ME he slept through Sounis + Eddis wedding!!!

Again – high king!

20. So Ion is beautiful … hmm.

Yeah … Sejanus has facets. I like it.

21. Clearly no one would know what king would do … lol

Don’t mind me just sorting the attendants on a spectrum of awfulness!!!

22. SO SO SO – ION!!!!!

How many fucking attendants are there and how many are on my hit list!

Is “the necessaries” bathrooms or like … him stealing? (just the bathrooms ... the Gen-Pheris parallels were really getting to me at this point)

23. OH MY GOD THE UNIFIED CREST

Also … frogs. Frogs.

24. Big day for Gen huh

Definitely an aura of Something as he writes about Gen

25. HELLO EVERYONE

26. Sorry Kamet, Pheris does the physical descriptions better. They’re beautiful

I’m blacking out at Eddis and Sounis

27. Jesus Christ. The bear.

Cousin time!

Under the table is the new up on the roof!

Uh… twin imagery ….

Gen’s feet!

Jesus. The matching

28. Cleon … wtf? A cousin?

A trial for Sophos?

Show! Us! Sophos’s! Shoes!

29. If u throw things out the air shaft you might hit the king

Was it a chicken?

Lol nvm the guy at night is Gen. That is … very sweet

- Showing up at night

- Accent

- Complaining about Petrus

- Swearing

- One hand

I am judging Costis and Sophos for not describing the paneling in Gen’s room!

Chapter 3

30. Was it a chicken?

An earring huh, good hand huh

31. Literally screaming “NO!” at Gen. Don’t joke about dying! I am killed by Gen on annux day. This is. My boy. Yes he is perfect. Yes he will refuse to get up. I love him. I died on page 31

Philologos is still the best of them

32. Dancing bear indeed

Always the powdered gold

Ruby!!!!! <3

Aww a smile!!! <3

Pheris he likes you!

33. They both love invisibility and lost it … I cry

Erupt like the sacred mountain excuse me!

OR WORSE return to bed! Lol

34. He’s Eugenides when he’s talking to Attolia

Ouch hero talk

! from Irene!

My queen!

Hey Phresine!

They way we do <3 he’s hating it but he’s so comfortable with her

Sister and bro mention! C’mon!

I love them

EYEBROW

35. Honestly that’s a yes (“I have no idea what you mean, my queen”)

It’s so cute they hang out in the morning … like how long was it even since they’ve seen each other lol

:( tough walk for Pheris

Is it prophecy time?

Lol how long does this construction take?!

Also … she’s pregnant, huh? but no one knows (nope)

Is befriending someone weaponized as a prank count for Gen’s enemies to friends list?

Also SHOW ME the magus. I know he’s here!

36. Pheris excuse me, why not recreate this!

Lol cast off language of history indeed

Feel the thrum of the goddess!

EXCUSE ME… a minor goddess? Mystery goddess? Or Philia?

Oh Gen

37. Well, Gen, someone is having a worse day than you.

Damn, how far we come.

Aww Sounis, babe, I love you and so does Gen

[drawing of the four of them sitting in a row]

38. Artadorus???? Pomegranate?

39. HEIRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A friend! Also lol. Two smiles, for Pheris and Heiro..

40. Yesss Melheret joke in action.

Costis has left tho right?

Jesus, Melheret

SHE GAVE HIM A HORSE (I COULD NOT DEAL with this entire conversation, but then again I could not deal with this whole book.)

41. I love them all so much

“on that horse, you will look like a king” I can’t with her sense of humor

He sure did say that

I feel like I’m missing something with the fight on foot thing … remembering battles?

Helen called him Gen!

Sophos stop talking about yourself and bringing apricots into everything lol

Lol these bystanders don’t know how lucky they are. Nor does Pheris, yet

42. She’s protecting him

Also … Gen … you didn’t want to be a soldier.

43. Guards have capes

2 startled men … hm …

Oh Gen. The fucking brutal echoes…

44. :( :( :(

Gen tell your wife you’re sick!

The attendants are so dumb

45. So, so, so :(

Tell who? Petrus?

Wink!

Yes?

46. Bleeding! Salt! Lemon! Heck no! What is he, a piece of meat?

Oranges?

47. “savoring each bite as if it were my last” ... Same … but with this book

Hmm… Alyta! Goddess of the gentle rain! (despite this “hmm,” I did not put the pieces together)

48. Oh no Teleus! And someone?

Aw he realized <3 lemon water

49. Gen eat your broth lol

50. I love them.

Ion’s really trying to make up for what he did that one time

51. Without the approval of the great goddess HAHAHA

I love them. Cousin time! Growl?

Idk whether or not to be reassured, Gen.

Wow Cleon I do not like that. Also didn’t he die? (...)

Comma (“I am not, Eddis”)

Go smack him!

52. Gen I love you.

Helen I love you.

He’s so bad at self care but I love him

Chapter 4

55. love that our narrator just disappears and reappears

56. Attolia’s brother’s bedroom? Yikes. Ominous. A detail in a story we’ve already gotten, different every time <3

57. fucking attendants. 3 good ones. Medander you were beneath Costis’s notice before but I hate you. Costis didn’t have time for you or Xikos or Xikander and nor do I

58. interesting pawn talk!!!

59. <3 Pheris :(

The Gen comparisons though

:( :( :( :(

60. flamboyance <3

Cemphora bush

Bees

61. I love him

62. I love them

Also lol “Your majesty?”

63. Name … hm … (“I have deliberately omitted [my tutor’s] name here”)

64. more twin imagery I swear

WAIT … it was his birthday! Not just Annux day?!! Gen was born in late summer???

Attendant list thank you

65. laying it all out there, huh … (that one Gen quote)

Lol they’re the same but Pheris likes horses

66. Insellia! Hello nice to meet you

67. Gen that’s mean. (“He is hardly even half of one.”)

68. Coleus leves???

“I am Eugenides.” <3

Gen why

69. Gold cups???? Hmmmmm. Also lioness. Def invoking Costis. (they’re probably not the cups, but STILL)

Earth….

70. Moira! Hi!!! Rainbow shawl!

Like a rabbit!

Pester!

I’m … very sad he uses his Attolian accent with Helen

71. Aaah so good

Mortals

Moira knows another messenger?

Does he think he can’t die in battle?

72. hmm are they WRANGLING?! (Galen and Petrus and my Fire and Hemlock word association)

Kill that pastry Irene I love you

morning training with his … guard? (Is that the whole guard or a guard? Costis senses tingling once again.)

73. Oh gen.

Ouch! (“to send people to their deaths and not risk my own is contemptible”)

Is she implying he’s paying Therespides?

74. Interesting Cleon plan. So many doubles

OUCH. (“Only if he comes back from the dead.” I assumed Lader had died in the war; it’s a different ouch now. I love that they both accidentally say things to each other that poke old wounds, and it’s not a big deal but it’s also not dismissed! Their relationship has come so far, and I love them so much.)

75. Verimius – Lavia – Celia??? Somebody is queer in there!

A GUARD

This scene confuses me. Xortix? Layteres? Aris! but dice thing is less political … so maybe? (just wait....)

76. So many reasons to hate Medander

Hey Costis! You exist! KoA happened!

Gen is just … still so uncomfortable and miserable. He chose, he has people, but still.

RIP Clopius also WHAT

77. Lol Hilarion’s grand statements

78. Yorn Fordad Hello!

Luxurious mustache

The mighty Pents?

Besin Quedue – she’s coming 4 you watch out

79. RIP Baron Hippias

Chapter 5

80. Spring! Plays! Cenna!

81. Oh dear

Oh dear

At least they said he was pretty

83. ?!? :( wine

Uh oh. Stockpiling

85. What even.

AAAAAAAAAH COSTIS

86. Omg Irene. Hissing. I love her.

Also … Gen’s the viper

Also this scene was written by Pheris.

Damn.

87. oh no.

What better man

She fucking quoted Howl. I love them.

Also, bees (this scene killed me)

90. Falling?

Oh shit

Also … Juridius and Pheris, Susa and Costis (comparing demands for information)

93. oh my god (IT’S THE WINDOW SCENE)

Oh my god

94. She! Called! Him! Gen!

I love this and it scares me

Lol Chloe

Irene you learned from her though

95. D:

96. :(

97. water stuff

98. what the heck

OH NO (Quedue scene)

100. yikes

Omg

Wow.

102. yikes yikes YIKES

103. a blade has protruded from his chest (tbt to The Thief)

jesus

106. shit

Did Gen hit him?

108. lol Phresine

109. lol

I want genuinely every character’s reaction to this shit

Chapter 6

111. what the heck Gen.

112. like a god [crown doodle]

114. Perma?

116. Gen. Gen. Gen. Do not.

117. AAAA (god intervention)

122. Juridius to Dite

124. bye Iolanthe and Ileia! Tell us about Caeta and Silla.

125. did not expect so much Ion

Chapter 7

127. Fryst god of winter

She laughed!

They’re so married

128. OH SHIT (Costis ship is sighted and I remember what’s about to happen next)

Interesting timing

He rode the horse home?

131. Beauty and good, beauty and kind

134. The gods’ goodwill

Keep them safe <3

135. Is that his MOM?!! Wtf (it was!)

Pheris steal those earrings!!!

RING! SMASH BOX!

137. AMPHORA EARRINGS (and flowers)

138. I love Phresine

139. Why do I feel like all the game birds are pigeons

140. meanwhile Gen’s been hanging out with Kamet. Shit. I cannot.

WELCOME HOME BOYS!

HELL YEAH KAMET ATTEND THOSE MEETINGS!

RELIUS COME THRU

141. lethium soup! The reversal

Safe for you

142. of course he knew <3

143. Kamet time! I love him. We get to see Kamet!!!

Also … echo of Gen’s notes on Mede

145. very handsome. … gaycostis vindication (referring to @costis’s url at the time and this post. Little did I know what else was to come in the next chapter and then a few months later with the adaptation news...)

Do you know who I am?

Chapter 8

147. Of course he’s a cartographer

A favorite huh

148. of course she didn’t tell us his age!

149. the angsty window staring I crave

Music!

151. adventure, huh

I do have a soft spot for Melheret

152. concerned about amphora gift

153. Glad they can be well and united in spite!! (Gen and Melheret)

154. Pheris loves math and I love him

155. Hello Teleus. Hello olives

Lol Relius is not into math

156. pigeons. Inkpot!

157. yeah honestly. He tortures people. He was NOT tortured by the king

159. lol (“I have noted the elective nature of certain behaviors” ... I love Relius and Pheris.)

160. The Invitation! I <3 it

161. EXCUSE ME WHO

Legarus!

FOLKS HERE WE ARE (I cannot overstate how wonderful it was to read this page. I did not know who the poem was from, and “Someone loves me very much, even with all my faults” is even sweeter to reread, but it’s just ... his confidence is so different from the tentative consideration of a new philosophy of trust and love we see in KoA. And there is subtextual queerness in the books before this one, some more apparent and some more subtle (and what is obvious to one reader may be subtle or invisible to another, in these books especially), and there is the attendant love triangle a few chapters back, but HERE - here, Pheris acknowledges the real feeling and love in Legarus’s disastrous relationship and tells us directly that his lover was a man, here he seamlessly makes it clear how bi and poly Relius is, and he quietly ties these relationships and realities to his growing understanding of the world. It’s not subtext. And there’s a lot more to come, but this page really hit me, and sort of promised the “more to come” while assuring me that what had come before, more subtly, was there. I used to have heteronormative readings of both these books and myself, and when Thick as Thieves brought them crashing back into my heart after years away, I knew better about myself, and I saw that - or the possibility of that reading - reflected in the new book, and it was such a good surprise. It meant a lot, and this page meant a lot, and that is why I’m writing a small essay to accompany this note.)

Lol wow

162. Where are you traveling, man (this question remains)

163. Fuck you, Orutus

164. Stole an inkpot!

165. the map!!! (Kamet’s)

166. I love them!

167. The Math Master hmm

Am I an oracle (Nope! :) )

#there is SOME context #and some rambling #but i'm sure some of it doesn't make sense so i'm very up for explaining anything #return of the thief #the queen's thief #mwt #something i #rott spoilers #return of the thief spoilers

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callsignbaphomet · 3 years

Note

Ok! Here we go! 37, 42, and ALL of The Deep Lore. For whoever you want! :p

Thank you, darlin’ <3<3<3

Loke!

37. Do they have any phobias?

Phobias per say? No. They are quite uncomfortable around cats. So far the only exceptions have been Bheka, Ice Cream and Cheesecake. Just give them time to get to know the cat and they'll let their guard down.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

Oh this is constant let's be honest. When he sees someone's in danger he rushes in to help even at the detrament of his own well being.

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

Daaaaamn, sorry, I'll try to tl;dr this aa best I can.

When he was 21 years old he and Jelani (8 years old at that moment) went to deliver some supplies to a village. On the way they ran into raiders who attacked them but Loki ran off to keep the supplies safe but more importantly keep Jelani safe.

He put Jelani on his horse and ran the horse away so his little brother wouldn't be in danger. To keep the raiders from him he stood his ground and tried to stall them for as long as he could. Given the fact that this was a large group of raiders he knew he was gonna die but this just goes to prove the validity of question 42.

He tries to fight 'em off and is actually doing fairly well as raiders are used to a certain fighting style from the locals but Loke one of Loke's parents is not a local and taught him how her people fight so successfully splicing both styles meant he had the element of unpredictability on his side. However, one of them found his horse's tracks and annouced he was gonna give chase which freaked Loke out and in a moment of letting his guard down he gets run through with a sword. In pain and scared for his brother he tries to grab his axe and doesn't see the behemoth sized creature quietly watching from between the trees. So as the leader of these raiders is about to stab Loke the creature grabs this dude and everyone in the area is staring like wtf is this thing and start attacking it. With the little bit of energy he has left Loke just watches but somehow he ain't scared bc the more he stares at the creature the more familiar it feels. Creature makes short work of them rips the leader's arm right off and tosses his body away.

The creature actually changes size to amount the height of an adult human and turns to find Loke had bled to death (he has that thing where his blood doesn't coagulate and he just keeps on bleeding). Creature nudges him a bit as it kneels next to the body and places its hands on the injury and breathes a weird mist from out of its mouth onto Loke's face who quickly sits up in a coughing fit. Creature helps him up but Loke faints into its arms.

Loke then wakes up to see Jelani sleeping next to him and it's night time now. He checks himself to see he doesn't have a stab wound on him or even a scar, he doesn't even see any blood anywhere. He looks around and sees the horse and a small fire next to them. He goes to check Jelani but finds a black feather underneath Jelani, as he picks it up he sees small embers floating up from it and he suddenly remembers the creature but weirdly enough he wasn't afraid of it. He just remembers a weird familiar feeling after he saw it.

So basically he died but came back and somehow it was Jela that did it. To this day he still has the feather. It hasn't rotted or broken apart and it still feels warm to the touch.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Lowest point was when they lost their fiancé. They were injured so their fiancé went to the aid of another village but most in the group died. This kinda left Loke in a daze for a while and if it hadn't been for their family they woulda just faded away probably.

Highest point? They went to med school just like their mom did. So whenever they feel like retiring they'll fall back on that. Mean time, the thrill of being the field medic who has full mastery of any firearm you can think of is where they'll remain.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Love, more specifically unconditional love. Love is stored in the redhead.

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Protection, healing and calm.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Ok so not much, check question 53 for better explanation. I will say that his original name was supposed to be Loki as I was still drooling like a dog in heat over Marvel Loki. But I didn't wanna be too direct about it so I named him Loke which honestly...lmao same thing but ya know. It's "different" enough for me to get away with it.

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

Both of us are clingy, needy and a bit emotional tbh. We're both really protective of people we love. It literally takes just a word and we're both gunning for whoever's acting up towards family, partners or friends. Also gamers. We also enjoy singing except they can sing well and I can't lol.

They're a hell of a lot braver than I am that's for damn sure.

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

Expectation: He was supposed to be some plot point with no real purpose except to die very horribly to push Jelani in a specific direction. He had no personality and no real info save for a name and the fact that he was Jelani's older brother.

Reality: I'm a pain in the ass and cover all my bases as much as I can so I started giving Loke some background info and a personality and then I expanded on it and fell head over heels in love with him and things drastically changed and from there we have the Loke we know of today. He's grown as a core character and tbh it would NOT be the same without him.

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

They're pretty comfy where they're at. They have a fantastic little dog that they spoil and love to bits. The job while dangerous is exciting and they know it's for the greater good. They have their brother with them which to them is super important. Their friends are close and family is just a drive or flight away. Out of my OCs Loke is probably one of the few that has everything they need and want tbh.

Some more video games and coffee and food wouldn't hurt tho.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? What happens when these all interact with each other?

I think it's sort of a tie between patience and love. Best trait is def understanding. Worst? Overprotectiveness.

Like I've said before on a violence scale Loke is the second most violent character due to them being so overprotective. Understanding kind of goes out the window if it means they're brother, family or friends are in any kind of trouble. I don't personally see it as a fault but maybe some people might ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

Tbh I don't really know how to answer this. They fill the role of the medic in the field, they're also the "big brother" figure within the group. They're also like...the calming presence.

They most definitely will get a happy ending. They deserve it.

#Loke tag #oc things #nicocalithorne #reply #Oracle Corp tag

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twdmusicboxmystery · 4 years

Text

TWD 10x16: A Certain Doom - Details and Dialogue

Okay, let’s get into details, because there’s some good stuff here.

***Spoilers abound below for 10x16. Don’t read until you’ve watched.***

We’re kind of side-eyeing the beginning and Eugene’s injury. He has a head injury, and there’s a car on its side. We don't actually see Eugene's injury. We don't see him fall off his bike or anything. It just starts with him sitting up against the car that's on its side and he seems to have had some sort of accident. So, it's something unseen that causes the accident.

He is bleeding from the head, much like Connie is at the end, and the whole scene with the car on its side reminded me of the short bus in 5×05. We see the wheel of his bike being bent, as I said before. When he gets discouraged about not being able to get there on time to meet Stephanie, he has one interesting line about time. I think Yumiko was saying they would figure it out. He says, "unless it involves slowing the passage of time…" (time reference). Then he says they need to "go eye to eye with reality and turn back for home." (Sirius/North Star/Home reference.) And in part of Zeke’s reply, he says, "we are not going back." Which we might be able to tie to S5’s "you can't go back," theme.

Then we see Daryl and Carol setting booby-traps in the stairwells of the hospital. They're talking about Michonne. Daryl says he just can't stop thinking that he might not ever see Michonne again. And then he says, "just like everyone else." Carol says, "I'm still here."

The “I'm still here” is what Beth said to Carol at Grady. And once again, this is being filmed in the same hospital as Grady. Carol also said, “I’m still here” to Daryl in 5x06, Consumed, when they were searching for Beth. So this is a prevalent theme.

And there’s really two things to consider here. We can tie it to Beth in a literal way, because she’s one of the people Daryl believes he’ll never see again. But I also wondered if we should be applying this to Beth instead of Michonne. I wasn’t sure how. Just a thought I had. I’m gonna come back to this.

There’s an A/B reference. Luke says it when they're talking about the plan. He's explaining what they have to do with the walkers and he says they have to get from A to B. So, I believe B refers to the cliff where they're going to lead the walkers over into the water. A is just where they are now, or at the hospital. So, we could definitely read into that. Symbolically, A = Grady hospital. B = where Beth shows up to help save everyone?

We had a part where the Whisperers were coming through the door and into the hospital were Judith and FG are. Dog starts barking and runs off into another part of the hospital and FG tells Judith to go get Dog. That was really it, but it jumped out at me because we once again, kind of like the snow in S9, we have Dog running off and Judith going to get him. It feels like a recurring motif. And nothing really came of it in this episode. They’re in the hospital so Dog doesn’t really have anywhere to go, but they made a point of having Gabriel tell Judith to go get Dog.

Orange Reference

First, let’s appreciate that everyone escapes the hospital through an elevator shaft. Using a rope. Yeah, really not a coincidence, guys. 👀

They reach a point where everyone is evacuated except Judith, Gabriel, Scott, and Rachel. Gabriel tells the other three to go. Judith asks if he's not coming. FG plans to stay behind to fight the Whisperers, so everyone else has time to get out and to make sure they don't cut the rope (the one everyone's climbing down the elevator shaft with). Judith asks if Rosita knows Gabriel is planning to stay behind. Father Gabriel gives Judith a message for Rosita. "Eres mi media naranja."

Apparently, Judith knows Spanish, because she halfway translates it. She says, "half orange?" That immediately caught my attention. I couldn't help but think of the orange soda Daryl drinks in S6, that he's looking for on behalf of Denise. That's also when they meet Jesus and the wheel comes off Jesus's truck (wheels in this episode include Eugene’s bike and the one that falls off the wagon).

So naturally, I had to look up this phrase. It loosely translates to “you are my other half of the orange” which is a colloquialism meaning, “you’re my soulmate (or other half).”

Now, obviously, that makes sense in this context because it's Gabriel's way of telling Rosita he loves her and she's his soulmate. But I can't help but go back to that orange soda in s6. We know Denise was a Beth proxy and they were drinking the orange soda, which was for Denise. I think it’s a way of saying that Denise (again, not literally, but as a Beth proxy) is Daryl’s soulmate.

So, I looked up a couple of different translations for this phrase. Check these out. One of them actually says “musical soulmate.”

@wdway also reminded me that Denise actually found an orange soda on her own, in a blue cooler, next to some railroad tracks, right before Dwight shot her in the eye with an arrow.

And this is where I’m gonna circle back around to the booby trap scene. Watching the episode live on Sunday, something occurred to me. There’s a particularly gnarly scene where one of the Whisperers trips the booby trap. We know it’s a whisperer and not a walker because there’s a lot of blood on the right side of his face, and also walkers generally can’t come up steps. But this dude obviously died and has a bolt or piece of wood sticking out of his eye. On the one hand, the one-eye thing is a Sirius Reference.

But it also specifically hearkens back to Denise and the way she died. So we have people Daryl doesn’t believe he’ll ever see again, dialogue that was used around Beth at Grady, the fact that this episode is actually filmed inside the Grady hospital, references to orange, with a meaning of soulmates, connecting to the orange soda we saw around Denise, and then the explosions they set while using said dialogue causing a death just like Denise’s and doubling as a Sirius reference.

Yeah, I get that sometimes we probably read too much into small things, but this is just WAY too much to ignore. This is why I said it doesn’t particularly bother me that we didn’t see her in 10x16. Was I disappointed? Of course. But I still feel like everything points to her being REALLY close.

Gabriel also quotes more scripture. He says, "the Lord's house is a tower. The righteous enter and are safe." I looked it up and that's Proverbs 18:10. I'm not entirely sure what to make of it. Obviously, there's the tower reference and it's also become sort of a test of faith for Gabriel. Because he said this right before the Whisperers come through and almost kill him. In fact he comes really close to dying before the ninja, along with Maggie, shows up and saves him. It was almost like his faith brought him through.

It also reminded me of 6×12 when TF attacked the Savior outpost. If you remember, one of them got outside the outpost and Gabriel killed him, but he was quoting Scripture then too, saying, "in my father's house are many mansions. If were not so, I would have told you." It seemed like a parallel to that, but I'm not sure how to interpret it or how to connect the two scriptures. I’d love to hear if anyone has any thoughts on it.

In terms of Daryl and Carol’s convo at the end, I don’t have tons to say. In fact, the thing that jumped out at me the most is that she asked if he was okay and he said, “Yeah.” I think that’s a direct contrast to previous seasons when they had the same convo and the answer was, “Gotta be.” It shows that Daryl’s in a better place now than he used to be. And to me, that shows that he’s in the perfect state of mind for Beth to appear.

Lastly, I’ll say a quick word about the final scene with Eugene, where the Commonwealth soldiers show up. Eugene makes what I think are several Star Trek references here. He gives a speech about how they won’t stop looking for Stephanie or other people. Basically, he says they came out here to find new people and he intends to keep looking until they find them, whether Stephanie's group or someone else. He believes that there are people around there and that if they just keep looking a little longer, they'll run into them. (Maybe the same theme we saw with Daryl and Aaron searching for people in S5?)

But Eugene says that's why they started “trekking” in the first place. The reason they “boldly voyaged” forward. And then he uses the word assimilate or assimilating several times. It struck me as a Star Trek reference and the assimilation feels like a reference to the Borg (a cyborg collective hive, for those who weren’t trekkies).

So, I don't know that this is necessarily a TD thing. I'm wondering if the Commonwealth, because it is sort of a collective, is being compared to the Borg. Right after this dialogue, the CW soldiers burst out. I'm not positive that's what they're going for. Just the thoughts I had.

The only other thing I'll say is that, even more than the promo pictures we have of them walking past the train cars, this scene gave me Terminus vibes. For one thing, Ezekiel suggests they spend the night in one of the train cars. And when the Commonwealth soldiers show up, these great big floodlights on top of the train cars suddenly turn on.

So, the Commonwealth soldiers haven’t stumbled upon Eugene’s group by happenstance. This train yard is a place they’re using and have outfitted with lights and traps. I feel like Terminus, symbolically, might be coming back around through the Commonwealth. So, it will be interesting to see where that goes.

That’s all for details. Tomorrow, I’ll talk about The World Beyond and some interesting ties to TD symbolism I saw in the episode.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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lynndoublelegacy · 3 years

Text

just a cool dnd meme i saw

Yook so it’s less a meme and more like. a big ol questionare but hey, might as well do it. originally saw it on @/probablyottrpgideas, go check them out

1. Game Master, Player, or both? Why?

Ok so technically I’ve DMed twice but I really don’t find it fun? and don’t ever want to do it again. so. Player. I like building characters and their connections with fellow PCs more than building worlds

2. When did you start roleplaying? How old were you?

oh god, if we’re talking about roleplaying in general? I’ve been doing it basically as long as I can remember. As a kid I would play House, and then once I got older in like 5th grade I actually started making characters and playing out their stories with friends. Google+ is what made me realize this was actually like, a THING, though, and I got into some roleplaying groups there, then on DevaintArt. Dungeons and Dragons is a newer development? I got into it in late 2018 when my sister’s friend invited us to a one-shot, and... well, yea, I got hooked lol

3. What was the first roleplaying book you ever owned?

dude, bold of you to assume I really own any. I don’t have that kind of money and literally only own the Guide to Wildemount, and that was a gift

4. Describe the first game you ever ran or played in.

I mean... it’s not a game but ima describe the one shot, bc my first campaign was a hot mess without a true storyline and I used the same character for it anyway. I played a tiefling bard called Aisling Kai (I didn’t know this was a cliche combo at this point, and I honestly played her like a rogue with a music motif but Whatever) and we were a little group tasked to figure out why the hell anyone who goes into this cave never comes out. So we go in, make our way through the dungeon, fight some frog people (I made one of their ears bleed just by getting a nat 20 on a performance check to play a high f# on flute, that was fun, FWEET), and turns out yep, theres a hill giant down here. We kicked his ass and collapsed the cave on top of us (dw I think we were fine but my memory is a little screwy)

5. What system did you grow up with? / 6. Which system do you play now?

i learned on and currently play dnd 5e. I don’t really know anything else, but I’m debating checking out Vampire of the Masquerade.

7. Longest campaign you’ve run or played in?

That would be my Tal’Dorei campaign group, aka The Fatefallen! Started in the Fall of 2019 and still going to this day, just played our 45th session last week. I play Ilia Liadon, the drow grave cleric, and the only member of our party who has been there for every single session since the beginning.

8. Where did you meet your current gaming group?

...well first I feel the need to mention that I have 3 different groups (2 of them are on hiatus now for pandemic related reasons but! we’re still groups). My first group (with Aisling) was formed slowly over time as friends adopted friends into the group, I think it started as a school club? but that didn’t last long. The other two started from a different school club as well, though one has since branched out into other people as well.

9. Strategic combat or dramatic plotlines?

I am a roleplayer first and a gamer second. Give me all of the backstories and dramatic plotlines. Don’t get me wrong, I still like combat, but story takes precedent for me.

10. Favorite RPG genre?

I don’t tend to define myself by genre? But I tend to fall into more of a fantasy, at most arcanapunk style. Give me all of the magic, and magic powered tech.

11. Your first character.

I got into her a little bit earlier, but my first character was Aisling, aka Calypso Kai. She was a homebrew subclass bard with a criminal background, who honestly? should’ve been a rogue. I’ve since rebuilt her into an Assassin Rogue/College of Eloguence Bard multiclasser, but this iteration was like. Baby her, baby me new to dnd, I did not know what I was doing. She tried to be edgy, but my mom energy came through HARD and she just. Never really had a set characterization. She deserves better and I plan on playing her better sometime in the future.

12. Your favorite character.

You are making me choose between my children. BUT, if I had to pick, either Ilia Liadon, or! Ashe Wednesday, a protector aasimar drunken master monk and my profile picture. Ashe also deserved a lot better from their campaign, so I have a massive soft spot for them, they were made during a really tough time in my life (as was Ilia) and was going through an equally rough time in-game, since I made them for a Curse of Strahd campaign without understanding what I was getting into. They’re my little rebellious asshole and I love them dearly, someone get this kid therapy. Ilia, on the other hand, is just... she’s a comfort character for me at this point. mostly soft edges, such a mom- while Ashe was me yelling “come at me” at the world while crying, Ilia was just... embracing it. Making it better. basically, if they actually existed, I would die for both of them.

13. Your most ridiculous character.

I don’t usually play super ridiculous characters, but! I would say Keothi “Bookfinder” Vaimeil counts. She was basically me looking all of the goliath barbarian stereotypes in the eye, and going “nah. she’s a nerd.” She’s literally a massive puppy dog, just the sweetest big old thing, sitting in her house and reading all the books she can get her hands on in order to make up for her amnesia. Oh, and did I mention that she’s a zombie? ...yea. She’s wacky, but I love her.

14. The best in-character line you’ve ever had.

“I need sleep. I don’t even sleep and I need sleep.”

~Ilia, after a particularly tough fight and an emotionally draining day

15. Your most epic death.

Ok so... none of my characters in game have ever actually died during the storyline? Keothi obviously has in her backstory, and Ilia might have in hers as well, it was never explicitly stated, but during the game? Nope. Ashe got stupid close, but nope. Since Keothi is my only death period, and her death was pretty epic, I’m just gonna describe that. Her parents and siblings in her Goliath tribe had all fallen ill, so she decided to go searching for a possible cure, and ended up getting conned into helping this cult, since they said they would cure her family. Turns out, yea, they were lying, they just needed a goliath willing to sacrifice themselves with a cursed sword. They made the mistake of revealing this before Keothi was actually dead, so as she was dying, she brought the entire goddamn cultist temple down to the bottom of the sea and took the cultists with her. The sword was why she was undead, in the Shadowfell, and couldn’t remember anything.

16. Your most disappointing death.

As mentioned, I’ve never died in campaign, but I feel like I have to mention this one that happened to our party in Curse of Strahd. We were in the death house, all 5 of us, still level 1, and our barbarian falls into a pit trap with spikes. None of us realize she’s actually dead, so we send out paladin down to get her... with the monk, the bard, and the warlock holding the rope. ....yea both of them died.

17. Something that shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

I’m stuck between two options for this one. First one was the time our water genasi paladin/rogue bloodbended our gnome cleric into a bridge to keep her from falling all the way down a ravine. The second time was when our party managed to defend a small seaside town from a pirate raid with just an NPC with Control Water, a ballista, ourselves, and some explosives. Neither should’ve worked, but both did. Having a triton in your party can really come in clutch in a seaside campaign.

18. Something that went hilariously awry.

I have one that’s hilarious and one that’s horrifying. Hilarious one: in my first ever campaign, someone from Aisling’s backstory popped up and our sorcerer went “that’s shady” (to be fair, he was) and then went to investigate BY HIMSELF. He obviously got kidnapped by the mafia, and then we went all stealth mission to break him out. Stealth was immediately abandoned after our other bard used a SCREAMING SWORD to break open the locks, then we proceeded to go out the way we came, setting everything on fire on the way out, and with our bard lying their way out the front door (with the rest of us in tow as “prisoners”) by pretending to be a fellow mafia member. It was great. Horrifying one: Ilia tries to Send to a member of the party who left in order to let him know that a fellow party member had died. Forgot that he left bc his mind was invaded by a previously dead, very evil old god, and ends up trapped there with him for a while. Ended up with all of our main spellcasters trapped in their own heads while the barbarian paced around worriedly and the rogue decided he was going to get smashed instead of worrying himself silly.

19. Your most memorable in-character moment.

There are a LOT in Ilia’s campaign, but! If I had to pick one, it would actually be a pretty recent one involving Ilia and our party’s wizard, Liara. They’re basically the embodiment of head vs heart? Anyway, Liara is currently suffering from something called magic corruption, though idk if suffering is the right word. Anyway! It basically resulted in her getting... possessed? by her own magic during the night during Ilia’s watch, and they had a really, really interesting conversation regarding guilt, death, and grief, and yea basically I love them. Honorable mention to our druid’s death (he’s back and better now, but that was my first long-time death in a game, we didn’t know he was coming back) and also the moment that Ilia realized that her childhood bff/crush had been revived in a new body and that this NPC was her best friend. That was a trip.

20. The coolest item you ever got and how you came to possess it.

I got this item in the revamp of my first ever campaign and nothing has topped it since which is Sad but hey. Anyway! I got this really cool, possibly cursed dagger after I threw a knife at an absolutely eldritch being and it got stuck in him as he transformed. It looked really badass, and allowed me to cast Inflict Wounds on occasion when I stabbed someone with it. So yea, we love that. Honorable mention to my paladin/bloodhunter’s Helm of the Aberrant Gladiator which allows you to basically do a bunch of fear based affects and psychic stuff.

Numbers 21 through 30 don’t apply to me but. yea. enjoy this summary of my dnd history I guess

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #d&d 5e #dnd meme #i would like to apologize to Vail and Zohros #they deserved better than to be briefly mentioned but their campaigns are also on hiatus #so they're not overly relevant rn #vail is the paladin/bloodhunter #zohros is the triton #he's a rogue

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chemtrailsovertheclub · 3 years

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old poems v1.

here you go. dated august-september 2019 or so.

my brain is a conglomeration of suffering it is everything it's all in my head though. by the time it shows on the physical, the damage is done, the war has been won and i am not victorious, maybe i won a few battles but ultimately i gave more than i gained from all the agonizing pain it's all in my head though.

i don't have a sense of identity and i don't have very much empathy because i feel so much to begin with how am i supposed to take on your problems too? i don't want to hurt you that's the last thing i ever wanted to do but so i push you far away and i don't say the things that haunt me because i know you feel so much empathy i can't have your hurt be because of me so i push you away

it's all in my head though. it's not a real problem. i'm perfectly fine. and i live a lie.

you make my heart beat go faster and the time goes slower and i feel my heart get closer and it melds into yours for hours that seem like years so when you go and i'm left alone my heart craves you my mind misses you my body is cold our love grows old and i worry it'll never be renewed

you are my drug, my medicine, my addiction my confliction of interest, of distress, of wondering what will come next my love, my joy, my shining light, my star so bright, those lakeside nights, those neck side bites, those streetside lights, those endless nights, those endless nights

i don't know what you want from me i don't have any sympathy for your self made misery

i don't know what world you live inside, all you seem to do is hide maybe you should step outside

into the light i promise it's not too bright i promise it's not a fight i promise if you'd just try you'd see just why life isn't just suffering until you die.

it's fine, pretending you're divine, that life is great, you feel no hate, there's no need to do a thing did i mention life is great?

it's a shame there's no one to blame for all the ways you bleed from your very own knives what a surprise! you take so many lives, why not your own? when you're finally all alone, when everyone you ever cared for is gone, when you've pushed them all away, i promise i won't say i told you so don't you know?

it's fine, pretending you're divine, that life is great, you feel no hate, there's no need to do a thing did i mention life is great?

black like mold the staleness you bring to the air gets old darkness and decay only leave so many words to say statements of agony proof you're not okay, proof that there's no way, you're ever going to change

i like the way you make feel at home like i do when i'm all alone i like the way you love me with all of your fragile heart like it won't get broke, like what all i said was a joke i knew it from the start, and every, day and night, it tears me a-part

i like the way you make me wanna run, away, never to be seen again by anyone of any concern, it's like i never learn, but they're my bridges to burn, it's my turn

it's not too hard to disappear, if you live your life running in fear if all you ever wanted was right there

i like the way i sing this song so soft and distraught when i let out my thoughts

i can't maintain my composure it's over exposure it's vulnerability it's me showing me for all the world to see and i can't take criticism very well and i didn't think this would go so well go so well can't you tell can't you tell? i burn my bridges before anyone can cross them but you must have swam, you must have swam because you made it across and what happens now? all my defenses are down. fire at will.

i want to bleed out every single ounce of my soul let it leak out of my body through each and every pore i crave liberation from my whole i would much rather be a piece of the puzzle than the whole fucking picture but here we are and the light, the light is blinding, and the darkness is consuming and the love is gone the love is gone. i am not at home in the one vessel i have for my spirit. can i get a replacement? is there a warranty on the carrier of my essence? dance with me and sing with me and drink with me and smoke with me and numb your feelings numb your pain numbness is satisfaction and as a matter of fact, satisfaction smells like worms in the rain.

i am a person for equality i am of a nationality that presents me with an easier way across the street, a paved path to walk on, the white privilege meant i could easily defeat, anyones suspicions, all your nonsense superstitions, all your tired inquisitions, all your conniving accusations, declarations, the satisfying sensations that you leave dripping down my throat

i feel everytime i forget to wear a winter coat, it is a message from you, a dream in the way it is afloat, it will never actually be perceived as more than glasses that need to be cleaned but no one told me the world wasn't this messy, i grew up in a world that's so numb to their feelings it's depressing. and the weather, it gets colder than i planned for, my jacket still probably lying on the kitchen floor, i am getting older and the blasphemous ones wear sheep's clothing, my mom is in the basement crying in the basement cause she's insecure, she's not sure she's worth anything, not a price at a bargain store, please close the door, oh please no more, i do implore have some sympathy for my dystopian society it's not predicted (but it is) it leaves me conflicted (i start to hiss) it leaves me afflicted (with all your sins) and i will not repent, for the message is best sent through a "i'm disappointed" by your closest parent.

i will not listen nor will i give in, when the chorus comes in, when the guards come in, when the cops come in, when the lights go out, when the last bit of tension building inside my cranium as your fingers instrument a destruction of the last thing you have finally learned to call home, for when you are alone who is there to judge you for not conforming when you are the whole, you are 100% of whatever you want to be and if one day you can wake up and finally see the reflection that stares back at me from the awkward first compliments to the snarky half-assed arguments that ended with my sticking out my tongue at you and kissing you and forgiving you because no one is perfect and i am sorry, i am sorry i created a pedestal for you in my head, you know some days i'd rather be dead, or at least just in a coma something to give me a moment i got my highschool diploma like you said i was supposed to you said, nothing.

i didn't really plan to live this long. how could the world have done me so wrong? trying to teach me a lesson? but here i am just stressin? my fight or flight reactions actin up, i think i'm coming up, i think i've had enough, i think i'm kinda fucked up, someone get me off this ride i can't decide for the life of me why i get no sympathy, like the simple fact of my humanity, negates my value as a human being. i am seething, soon no newborn babies will be teething because the majority of people i ask on the street, seem to agree that this world ain't so organized and neat, and the people here all be trying to compete, trying to delete, any trace of their origins or else how are they supposed to make their fortune releasing an autobiography with insights the one and only, the prized show pony, the don't leave me i'll be lonely, the if you could see me maybe you'd tread slowly, maybe you'd consider the possibility that you are not everything a human can be, sure it is possible, but you sir are making me rethink making me wonder making me more aware, more scared, more fear, more here, less beer, more liquor and it's getting quicker to take a shot or two or three down my throat and the warmth has finally become an expected gift, it's not something i try to shift away from my body, it's not naughty to want to feel comfortable in your own flesh, you are some combination of all your physical features but most importantly you are a culmination of your choices, of every single one of the voices that you decide were worthy of being heard for a change, i know they may sound strange when they first start on the stage, but look at them, they are acting their age they are being vulnerable they are feeling satisfied without eating till they're beyond the limits of full, they are complete before you two even meet and if you refuse to give her the heat, the intensity, the devotion, the endless flowing fountains of emotion, she gives you all of hers if you just would pick her a pretty flower.

so what if, we were to develop a place where the motif, the reason for the season, the blinding sheet in which they are not told they are a project, no for once, they are not simply something someone has likely forgot, can't you see how i'm falling, desperate and distraught death is sometimes a thought, quite a lot. but instead i make a scrapbook, i get a pretty one, i make it fun, i try to make unburdening all the weights others put on my back a thing i do everyday but it's so much easier to say, to delay, to just offer "how much do i need to pay", what feminine figure of weakness do i need to portray so you can save her? every page has effort and time put into it and just because you're not as into it as that little girl fantasizing about that imaginary world doesn't mean you can't for one second for one, humble, moment, for one silent showing of hands, of all those who have demands from the dead, they must be read, we do not judge nor hold any grudge for the ending will be the same, no matter what personality we choose to play the game today.

#mine #for you know who #content... is heavy

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honestlyfrance · 4 years

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Hope you get over your writers block soon, here’s a question. The titles for your fics are beautifulll, how do you come up with them? That’s something I always hate to think about

Hi! Thanks for saying so, means a lot, and yup, I'm feeling pretty motivated after writing this lmao 💕

kinds of titles and how to

Titles are hard to do. Period. My title game now I'm in a new fandom/platform is the worst to date. I once sat down pre-AO3 and made 16 titles and they're pretty lovely. Anyway, always remember this: Look at other titles for inspiration or find inspiration instead. That's all you'll need to know, so I'll share some titles along the way to give you some inspo.

First thing you need to do is know what makes a title. Titles are always from a Motif (a recurring theme), a line, a character, a question, the goal from the work. It's a must that you're comfortable with and like your title, because that will always be with you.

Another thing is I look at other titles so I can make up my own. Finding inspiration is always key. Titles from media/books I look up to are: Sense and Sensibility; Great Expectations; The Town That Dreaded Sundown; The Old Man With A Gun. Getting inspired by your own titles are always a must too, because it gives you that boost of confidence, like, "I made this one great title so I can definitely make more!" I'll give you some ideas from mine and ways I made them, so some tips and tricks for you! But, and this is addressed to everyone, please don't copy them! They are my wips and my work, don't take them away from me!

Latin or other languages: Stella & Cera; Carpe Noctem; Apotelesma; Malacia; Eros.

Might I suggest looking up Latin phrases? This gives your work a fancy name, sure, but this works even better if it's in the work itself. For example, I used Stella & Cera because the work is Icarus inspired. Stella means Sun and Cera means wax, which aligns the myth pretty right. I used Carpe Noctem because the setting was nighttime and the characters were taking a chance, hence, Seize the Night. You can definitely use any other language, but it's best if you pour yourself into research so you won't use a foreign word mistakenly.

Dark adjectives or verbs: What Alexander Killed; What Killed Sam?; Killing Kennedy; To Kill A Masochist; The Synthesia Project; Justice For Maria; Bury Me Here.

Don't use this kind of title if no one is going to die, but you could use it in a metaphorical sense. Did you kill their mentality or an Identity? Go ahead then! I use this kind because it really just sets the record straight, and it definitely adds tension and stakes at first glance. It sends questions and goals all in one, and it definitely catches your eye, doesn't it? You'll feel afraid of it, definitely, but again, it's either because the work is a murder mystery, thriller, or horror, which this kind should fall into.

Names: The Missing Letters Between Sergeant James Barnes and Detective Samuel Wilson; Victorina Gavin; Mirage Of John; Reaching Elizabeth; Jan; The Other Half of Eliza; francis, love me; The Waiter.

This kind of title gives you a lot of freedom because it gives the readers the names of the characters in the work at first hand! It's best paired with adjectives (Reaching Elizabeth), statements or dialogue (francis, love me), or it could be a standalone (Victorina Gavin). If you're using this kind for a fandom where everyone knows the character, then you shouldn't use the standalone name. Maybe use an adjective or noun; use it freely but not insultingly or degradingly.

Places: Find Me In San Francisco; In The Hangar; Alexandria & Berlin; Two Rooms; Kingdom of Filasa; Nevis to Geneva.

This! I always have a soft spot for these kinds of titles, sue me. If you're going to use these kinds of titles, make sure there's a notable setting in the work itself and if it's an important place. You can use it with nouns/verbs (Find Me In San Francisco) or you can make connections with it (Nevis to Geneva). I only ever use this kind as a last resort, only because I have a favorite kind of title lmao since some of my works don't have notable places except for setting. There should be emotional attachment, I think, if you use this. For example, Nevis To Geneva is about Soulmates from different countries— continents even —attached by a string. Kingdom Of Filasa on the other hand, wherein the kingdom itself is a major plot point in the work.

Statements/Poetic/Metaphor/Motif: The Study In Belief; life & liberty; Angels In Moonlight; Bouquet Of Lovers; No Name; We Almost Became When; Liberty Wears A Green Gown; It Rains On April 10th.

This is my type, for sure. This kind works best if your work is poetic or emotional, but even if it isn't, it really pulls readers in. I know I will be. Some of these have double meaning, but they're mostly there for poetic reasons or just plain right off the bat. Angels In Moonlight: summoning an angel at midnight. We Almost Became When: "almost" is a Motif (recurring theme) in the work. Bouquet Of Lovers: the number of flowers in your hair is the amount of Soulmates you have. This kind of title comes to you at the last minute or before you're going to bed, there's no in between.

Double meaning: No xio us To xic; State Of Stone; please. touch. me; Defective.

These are fun because you can reveal the actual meaning in the work, for example: No xio us To xic is from Noxious Toxic, explaining that the MC hasn't gotten over his past toxic relationships, giving him an obscured idea of love. State Of Stone is actually set in a museum, and in some point in the work, they're asking for help, hence State of Stone, SOS. Defective on the other hand is about how a detective's career crashed when she wasn't able to cover up the rumors of her current case.

Lines and Dialogue: to bleed on paper is to create; Death To The Ending; believe not, dad; hurt not, love; my achilles & patroclus; offering love until it hurt.

This became my go to when I joined AO3, just because it's easier, which it is! You're just taking your favorite line from any place of the work and slap it on as a title. Note: Make sure it doesn't spoil the story! This works perfectly if there's a line regarding the whole plot or simply summarizes the work (believe not, dad). Offering love until it hurt was a line that inspired the whole work actually, and was able to summarize the MC's goals and beliefs in one go.

If all else fails, slap a song title on it (If you're doing fics!). I literally do not realize some titles are song titles with how good it is, and if you're wondering, song titles are valid. Shut up, I love you, even if you say you can't title. Somedays I wish I could just do that.

Hope this helps 💖 there are definitely more kinds of titles, but these are mostly the basics!

ask for writing advice?

#france answers #writing tips #france: writing tips #justficsandstuff #my mutuals yo!!!

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fuse2dx · 4 years

Text

July ‘20

Final Fantasy 7: Remake

Straight to it: this game is gorgeous. It’s the closest thing to playing a CG movie that I think I’ve ever experienced. Heck, it sounds great too - not that everything is perfect, but it’s clear that the sound team have been given a pretty wide remit to try new, weird, and wonderful ideas out with the original’s motifs and themes - which I have a lot of time for. Split out almost any given moment from its 40-hour runtime, and it’s really something to behold.

Where it all gets a bit more mixed for me is in how much it’s weighed down by its own ambitions, and the trappings of AAA game design. Intentionally slow walk-and-talk sections, shimmying through narrow gaps, climbing ladders, and balancing across long beams all do their best to stifle your momentum and mask the load times for the grand scenes they usher in. Rather than the varied and open world of the FF7 you remember, this is an exhaustive deep dive into the tiniest part of that world, creating new stories out of it, but ultimately prompting a constant re-treading of environments in the process, ones that are already pretty repetitive in their look and feel. That big wide world you want to explore is tantalisingly out of reach, instead holding you to a linear run of cut scenes and set piece battles with the occasional hub for side quests. Having the entire game voiced means that for every scene that’s enhanced with by a particularly powerful performance, there’s a multitude more that are bogged down in daft, over-egged nonsense.

The change from traditional JRPG battles to more action-based combat is a bit more subjective; characters control in pleasingly different ways, there’s clearly some depth to how party and materia configurations influence your outcomes, and it certainly helps demonstrate this heightened level of visual flair - but it’s got plenty of room for improvement. The camera clings far too closely to your character, and when locked on, really struggles to keep up in a lot of instances. While some enemy attacks are telegraphed, they’re easily missed from as a result of these failings. Sufficiently rough beat-downs can prove difficult to recover from too, in light of its rather restrictive re-imagining of what the ATB system should mean in a real-time situation.

It all feels very elaborate and self-celebratory, and not surprisingly so given how rabid the demand for its existence was in the first place. I’m all for a bit of change, and while I enjoyed a lot of it, so much of it hangs on what comes next - and I can’t help but worry that this project as a whole is an over-commitment.

Streets of Rage 4

Given the first three games in the series released within a 3 year window, and it’s now been over 25 years since, it’s perhaps not the most surprising revelation to find this newest title heralds the biggest changes that the series has seen to date. Love it or hate it, there’s a very distinct, very modern visual style, and no amount of ‘Retro CRT’ filter is going to bring back your beloved pixels as you remember them. That’s not to say the visuals won’t create a similar impression on you, but as it happens, I’ve seen enough to know there’s a pretty broad church of opinion on what a modern Streets of Rage game should look like. It’s a similar tale with the audio; the original games are often held up as the pinnacle of what was possible with the Megadrive’s sound chip, and while plenty of inspiration has been taken from these cuts, there’s a much wider range of instrumentation and sequencing complexity that’s become possible with modern sound processing. Some tracks stand out, whereas others blend more into the background, but in general it fits well. Is it as bleeding-edge cool as the originals sounded at the time? Perhaps not. Does it still capture that Streets of Rage magic? It’s a damn good shot.

Aesthetics aside, characters stomp about with good weight, feel delightfully unique in how they are best played, and both giving and taking hits feels really chunky and convincing. Moves chain into one another nicely, and juggling works well; there’s plenty of opportunity to showboat with good usage of situational specials and environmental features without too much opportunity for thing to become silly. There’s a nice range of stages, and a complete run poses a well balanced challenge. A good range of modes and features make this stand out as a generous blend of old and new, and in total you end up with a pretty great product overall. I like it a lot.

Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon 2

Supposedly put together on a pretty tight schedule, it’s no surprise that we found out about this only about a month before it launched. Unsurprising too, that it’s not much evolved from the first title. Zangetsu returns as lead, but supported by a new cast of companions, and eventually, in worst-kept-secret style, the rest of the first game’s cast too (they’re in the trailer, for heaven’s sake). The game’s eight levels are set out with multiple paths, designed intentionally to let different groups of these characters use their unique traversal powers to steer you down different routes - and while preferable to a totally linear setup, that’s not to say it changes things up enough to not get a little tiresome, either. Bosses do have harder variations in some modes but are not always the most fun to re-visit in the first place, given they vary wildly in challenge stakes, and are often best handled by experimenting with different character’s sub weapons until you find the one that’s exploitable. Chances are, turning on Hachi’s invincibility and just tanking your way through everything will do just that.

Moment to moment things are still fun enough - particularly when you get in the spirit of things and experiment with different characters, rather than brute forcing your way through every scenario with the same one. The soundtrack isn’t quite as memorable, but is still plenty enjoyable. Despite the feeling that little’s new, it’s still a worthy release, and a good way to keep Bloodstained relevant in lieu of what’s likely to be a much longer development cycle before we see a proper follow-up to Ritual of the Night.

Mother Russia Bleeds

A scrolling brawler it may be, but after the gloss Streets of Rage 4, it’s clear the two couldn’t be any further out of step tonally. The plot sits on top of an alt-1980s Russia, and revolves around a group of Romani street fighters out for revenge after being taken forcibly from their camp to be used as guinea pigs for a highly addictive, hallucinogenic drug... that just happens to grant them super-human strength. Smooth and sanitised this is not; the pixels are out in full force, and gritty, needle-fuelled ultra-violent thuggery is the order of the day. The tutorial running you through its range of moves is a succinct highlighting of this, where the first time you kneel in front of and pummel a blood-soaked opponent to death is handled in a way that’s genuinely quite striking, and yet is but is utterly inconsequential as you move on to fight your next. Weapons just crank this up tenfold, with chainsaws, grenades, rifles and the like having results akin to their real-world equivalents - with environments often left as a bloody mess of corpses, rather than a pretty picture with the aftermath faded from view.

The action is fast, almost frantic at first impression, but after some time adjusting, it begins to feel much more by intention, and manageable too. There’s a few options to mix up your combo endings - like pushing people back, or launching for a few more hits, but make no mistake that you’ll be focused more on crowd control by numbers rather than finesse. There’s a few neat ideas coming out of some of the game’s set pieces, and bosses are typically less dependent on your typical straight-up fighting skill, instead relying on your ability to determine the mechanical gimmicks needed to beat them - and this leads to them breaking things up nicely. The lack of one-on-one finesse might have been an initial detractor, but as the battles became bigger, and the stages became more interesting, I felt like the game came far more into its own. The game’s hard cocktail of downtrodden types pushed through a backdrop of sex, drugs, and violence feels a little too try-hard in places - and one does wonder how closely the team involved had been looking at Devolver’s other output before pursuing the theme - but it doesn’t take too much away from what’s actually a pretty refreshing example of this type of game.

#final fantasy 7 remake #streets of rage 4 #bloodstained curse of the moon 2 #mother russia bleeds

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fenerismoon · 5 years

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The Adventures of Agatha Heterodyne: Magical Girl

Completely normal teenage girl Agatha Heterodyne has just lost her uncle, and is forced to move with her two guardians into the very-much-not-sleeply suburb of Mechanisburg. With its faux-european buildings and abundance of skull motifs, the whole place manages to scream, creepy tourist trap. The ancestral family manor she is apparently going to be moving into is even worse. It comes complete with a lovingly tended garden of horribly poisonous plants, a wrought iron fence complete with six inch spikes and screaming face decorations, and an honest to god looming bell-tower.

She’s spending her first night in her new room in this creepy house when she feels a draft, finds a concealed door in the walls, accidently presses a switch which causes the door to open to reveal... an on-suite bathroom. Further exploration reveals more secret doors, a whole network of them. Deathtraps too. Including trap doors and an literal hallway of swinging blades. Eventually she comes across a library of all things. A big library with lots of dusty books, and cloth covered reading chairs. And on one of the tables she finds a locket, embossed with a trilobite, complete with a brass choker to wear around her neck. Thinking it just a cool piece of jewlery, she puts it on.

When she turns around, she sees a book. Its large and heavy with a metal cover and this moving clockwork visible between gaps in the binding. She’s not sure how she missed it, and when she picks it up the grinning face on the back bites her. She barely has time to register the fact she is bleeding, when a great red eye opens on the cover and a deep female voice says.

“FINALLY!”

The book then reveals that she is the latest in a long line of villianous magic girls. The feared Heterodynes. That her father and uncle were one of the few male children born to that line and that they forsok their family’s powers in order to live a life of social activism and philanthropy. But now, NOW, there is finally some new blood to take on the mantle. Now the world will tremble before a new Heterodyne magic girl.

Then there is a surge of red light and Agatha’s clothes are replaced with a black-silk dress puffed up with gold lace, and gold plated bones. A great castle with russian domes looms behind her, and the words come to Agatha as the transformation sequence completes. “TREMBLE BEFORE ME!”

And the bell at the top of the looming bell tower rings.

DOOOOOOOOM!

Then the Jagers, the most loyal and powerful of the Heterodyne’s summons appear and all swear allegence. There’s explainations, about the power of the relic and how to use its powers. The spells and summons contained in her book and how they work. A great show of power that goes into the night.

The events last night seem more like a weird dream, as Agatha staggers into the kitchen to have breakfast the next morning. She doesn’t even notice, the strange look that passes between her guardians before Adam finally says, “We know what happened last night.”

“Everyone knows,” Lilith adds as Agatha chokes on her ceral. “We all heard the Doom Bell ring. Everyone who grows up in this town knows what it means. They even printed a special edition of the Mechanisburg Menacer.”

Sure enough, the front page of the newspaper is blazing with the headline. “NEW HETERODYNE CLAIMS THE TRILOBITE RELIC! DEATH, DOOM, AND A 25% DROP IN UNEMPLOYMENT PREDICTED! TAKE THAT RECESSION!”

What the hell, Agatha thinks, you don’t need that much water to drown yourself. Her bowl of ceral will do in a pinch.

#girl genius #magical girl #magic girl AU #mechanisburg #the castle #Agatha Heterodyne #Agatha Heterodyne: Magicial Girl

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illegiblewords · 5 years

Video

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Sephirot, The Fiend

What is it like when you pull back the curtain

And realize every wrong is a right?

Your world is rusted like a dirty razor

The edge is calling tonight

The edge is calling tonight (The edge is calling tonight)

The sun is setting, darkness taking over

A date with chaos and you're dressed to the nines

Salt of the earth salting your own fields

Road to destruction that is true and tried

You walk the path laid before you

The call of reason, you refuse to abide

Necessity is an inventive mother

Promising sanctum that

She cannot provide

She is the hand that rocks the cradle

The wind that breaks the bough and leaves you to die

And there She leaves you to die (And there She leaves you to die)

You'll find slumber when the world comes tumbling down

Sweet dreams, baby. Sleep tight!

Retreat where lesser men lead

Flee from what you do not see

Heed the dark within your being

Turn away

Disobey

I'm the end and the beginning

The faith that feeds the unbelieving

A tightening knot to staunch the bleeding

Say my name

Sephirot

The seventh hell's become your seventh heaven

Rose of redemption but a thorn in your pride

Waste no more time fighting your demons

Lay down your arms and let the evil inside

And then you let it inside (And then you let it inside)

You let it eat you till there's nothing left at all

So you can feel that you are truly alive

Better to serve in a waking nightmare

Than rule in their paradise

What is gold, always glitters

But it still comes with an unpayable price

Treading out upon the stagnant waters

Our savior waiting for a turn in the tide

You are the night at the end of the tunnel

The empty void where the serpent lies

Where the serpent lies (Where the serpent lies)

The angels graze in the meadows of excess

They must needs go that the devils drive

Retreat where lesser men lead

Flee from what you do not see

Concede your mind unto the fiend

Turn away

Debts are paid

I'm the end and the beginning

The drug that gives the wretched meaning

The answer every soul is seeking

Say my name

Sephirot

People talk a lot about Sophia, The Goddess. I’ll do a talk for her too but frankly Sephirot is hugely underrated imo and the Warring Triad as a whole deserves serious analysis.

Before anything else, I need to make a bow to higherallagan on reddit for pointing out “someone let Fray write the lyrics.” Because there is no better response than that lol.

In terms of analysis, there are hardcore layers going on.

First, for the triad as a whole I’m going to pose the possibility that they represent the Freudian trio structuring the psyche. These are Id, Ego, and Superego.

Id would be base, instinctive desires stripped of all reason. This is the only personality structure present at birth and ties into bodily needs, wants, and impulses. To feed, to fight, to flee, to fuck, these all tie to the Id. It is immediate gratification, it is to seek pleasure and avoid pain or “unpleasure”, it is unconscious chaos and drive without will. The Id offers no judgment of value, no morality. The union of Eros and Thanatos, or sex and death, exists here.

Ego I would argue is represented in Sophia, while Superego is Zurvan. I’ll go more into Ego and Superego for each of them respectively, but the very short version would be that Superego is intellect and morality while Ego is pragmaticism and the negotiation between Id and Superego in the context of reality.

Naturally Sephirot would absolutely, 110% be Id. This isn’t just because he’s introduced first but also ties into the lyrics of his theme and the motif woven into his nature as an eikon. He is cited as representative of the first tree and its worship. Beyond this, Sephirot through the fight is shown using attacks including Ein Sof Or, summoning Binah and Chokmah, etc. These, along with the name Sephirot itself, all reference the Tree of Life in Judaism as well as Kabbalah specifically. There are ten sephira (singular for sephiroth), or individual nodes on the Tree of Life.

Disclaimer, the English transliterations can be read a few ways. I personally write and pronounce “Kether” as “Keter”, sounding like “kee-tehr”. In actual Hebrew it’s probably pronounced “keh-th-ehr” or “keh-tehr” but I’d need to see the vowel forms to know for sure. I am not known for my ability to pronounce things correctly haha.

Anyway. The singular English words listed under each sephira are not necessarily a clear indicator of what each stage means in practice. I’ve actually done a huge amount of research and do know how to articulate every step. Ex. Keter/The Crown is the moment in which the very possibility of change begins on an internal level. This is well before any externalization of change. It could be the instant that potential energy could begin its transformation to kinetic energy. It could be the seed of an idea that has yet to grow, let alone breach the soil of the mind into action.

The Tree of Life as a whole can be mapped onto any kind of change, from mental to physical to emotional. It also happens to map onto the Big Bang, which is its original representation. It is creation and change, navigating internal and external.

As a concept, the Tree of Life is hugely sacred within Judaism as a faith. Being as Sephirot is an eikon (or primal) specifically however, it exists as a simplified corruption of that concept. This was, in the context of the game, interpreted as being an Id-defined Satan figure similar to what is found in Christian tradition. The serpent lying in the empty void, which ties to negative change or the creation of evil rather than something divine. This is the tempter in the Garden of Eden.

The role of temptation is hugely present throughout The Fiend’s lyrics, again tying to Id specifically. As much as I love the joke about Fray, honestly this does resonate strongly with themes presented in the Dark Knight questline.

If we interpret the song as being specific to the Warrior of Light, it reads something like this:

What is it like when you pull back the curtain

And realize every wrong is a right?

Your world is rusted like a dirty razor

The edge is calling tonight

Warrior of Light has been following the path set by Hydaelyn throughout the storyline, often at their own expense. This has at times been extremely painful on a personal level for the WoL, and requires ignoring the easier, safer, or even more pleasurable alternatives. On top of this, the idea of pulling back the curtain to realize something implies that the WoL has been in deep denial that not only is there another option, but it would feel better to take that option.

Besides being 3edgy, the dirty razor line states that the WoL’s world is old, filthy, ineffective, and painful. Despite this, the WoL forces interaction with it in such a way that is not only self-destructive, but could very well kill them. After all, even after you’ve finished getting split open by something rusty the infection sets in and tetanus will follow.

The edge is calling tonight (The edge is calling tonight)

The sun is setting, darkness taking over

A date with chaos and you're dressed to the nines

WoL is giving up and on some level eager to succumb to temptation and selfishness.

Salt of the earth salting your own fields

Road to destruction that is true and tried

You walk the path laid before you

The call of reason, you refuse to abide

Working hard destroys the earth, or more specifically the WoL themself. It is a form of rendering themself barren on a personal level, a spiritual death. Again, following that path Hydaelyn gave as well as the paths expected by the people of Hydaelyn who see WoL as a hero. That little voice at the back of their head going “maybe we should not” gets ignored.

Necessity is an inventive mother

Promising sanctum that

She cannot provide

She is the hand that rocks the cradle

The wind that breaks the bough and leaves you to die

WoL might not want to perform these tasks anymore but believes it is needed to survive and for the world to survive. In the end though, the idea that trying to fill that need will lead to salvation, to safety and certainty, is not accurate. In the end, no one and nothing will be there to save the WoL themself and they will be destroyed in this pursuit along with everything/everyone they sought to protect. It’s a fool’s errand.

And there She leaves you to die (And there She leaves you to die)

You'll find slumber when the world comes tumbling down

Sweet dreams, baby. Sleep tight!

Only in failure will the WoL find rest, finally free to forget obligations as everything collapses around them.

Retreat where lesser men lead

Flee from what you do not see

Heed the dark within your being

Turn away

Disobey

The WoL might be the most powerful person in the world, but they can still choose not to fight and be selfish. Leave the painful work to “lesser men”. Avoid threats that are not immediately relevant to you and take care of yourself alone, stop following the orders of others.

I'm the end and the beginning

The faith that feeds the unbelieving

A tightening knot to staunch the bleeding

Say my name

Sephirot

Id is present from birth until death, from the beginning of the world until its end. It is self-preservation when trying to do too much gets you hurt, and while it won’t heal the wound itself it will stop you from bleeding out further.

The seventh hell's become your seventh heaven

Rose of redemption but a thorn in your pride

Waste no more time fighting your demons

Lay down your arms and let the evil inside

The world might go to shit but WoL at least would be personally okay. The idea of going back to heroism would become utterly distasteful because of all the pain it promises. It’s time to stop feeling guilty about these things and just embrace it.

And then you let it inside (And then you let it inside)

You let it eat you till there's nothing left at all

So you can feel that you are truly alive

A WoL who becomes wholly selfish 1) ceases to be WoL 2) sacrifices empathy, morality, everything they’ve ever believed in or cared about at the altar of the self. And in return they can be a hedonist and protect themself from being hurt by others.

Better to serve in a waking nightmare

Than rule in their paradise

What is gold, always glitters

But it still comes with an unpayable price

It would be better to give up everything else, all thought of a better world and protection for all, and do the best you can by yourself even if reality sucks. The alternative is enormous responsibility in a world that is good, a paradise, that is understood to be fragile. Of course paradise is tempting but the personal cost of getting there is too high.

Treading out upon the stagnant waters

Our savior waiting for a turn in the tide

You are the night at the end of the tunnel

The empty void where the serpent lies

Stagnant waters = the world, the situation, will always be like this. WoL is waiting for things to change. But even after all work and travel, it will ultimately lead to nothing. The WoL will eventually break and give up and become what the eikon Sephirot foretells.

Where the serpent lies (Where the serpent lies)

The angels graze in the meadows of excess

They must needs go that the devils drive

The good people of Hydaelyn will become soft and vulnerable in paradise and inevitably, more “devils” or wicked people will have them at their mercy.

Retreat where lesser men lead

Flee from what you do not see

Concede your mind unto the fiend

Turn away

Debts are paid

Concede your mind unto the fiend = you know I’m right. Turn away, debts are paid = You’ve done enough, stop.

I'm the end and the beginning

The drug that gives the wretched meaning

The answer every soul is seeking

Say my name

Sephirot

The drug that gives the wretched meaning = when everything else has broken you, you will have only yourself and you will have no choice but to say your self is enough. The answer every soul is seeking = everyone wants to know on some level that they are enough, that they have personal value, that they are worth saving and protecting, that they have a right to pleasure and happiness of their own. That they can pursue their id as nature has always been driven and not feel ashamed.

Tbh I do think Beauty’s Wicked Wiles/Lakshmi’s theme has similar motifs woven in and could possibly be read as a continuation of the WoL’s desperation to escape. But that would be another post.

#Sephirot the Fiend #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #warring triad #hardcore analysis under the cut

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moralityblurred · 6 years

Text

from dusk til dawn s1 starters

send a number 1-120 or ‘🐍’ for a random starter, or send a sentence below the cut

“Sometimes you just get up, and you just know it’s gonna be one of them days. Open your eyes and you look and nothing but bad road.”

“Seeing how I’m stuck between no place and nowhere, the only folks come in here are the a strange ones.“

“You add it up, you see how you’re spending your life from sunup to sundown, and you make the most of that time. ‘Cause it fleets.”

“You think that I can’t get us out of this situation, like I’m some kind of amateur. I brought you into the profession.“

“It’s just you and me now. We are it, all right? And, hey, brother that is a beautiful thing.”

“You shouldn’t call people stuff! You know?! It’s rude!”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you looking to redecorate this place - in shades of red?”

“Let me ask you a question, huh? You got a wife and kids, people that love you that are gonna hate seeing you all stitched together like a sock puppet in the local morgue? Then why don’t you put that weapon down and come on out from behind there, hero? 'Cause us, we ain’t got nothing to lose.”

“I don’t care if he’s banging the first lady, okay? Get him on the line!”

“She’s not a secretary, and she hates to be called that.”

“Trust him because he sees things you don’t.”

“Now, you’re not gonna make me count to 3, are ya? 'Cause I can’t count that high.”

“I didn’t get shot so these sons of bitches could ride off into the sunset.”

“The only mistake that I’ve made is stopping my train of thought to listen to this bullshit.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, cabrón.”

“Even if you have to follow them to the gates of hell, you kill them for me.”

“You had five years to improve yourself, and you played dominos. Is that why I risked my ass to bust you out of that prison transfer?”

“If it had been you in there, you would have got shivved on your first day on account of your piss-poor people skills.”

“I don’t need people skills. I’m a prodigy.“

“Do not dismiss the importance of becoming self-sufficient. Look at the world around you, brother. It’s coming apart.”

“And the man who cannot build his own shelter or gut his own food is just courting disaster.”

“Well, I’m about to apply my fist to your goddamn face, okay?“

“Just because I live in the woods doesn’t mean that I can’t plan a job anymore.”

“Here’s to getting rich and fat. And dying in the arms of a beautiful woman.”

“You’re like a classic Freudian test case, you know that?“

“The border’s still an hour and a half away. By the time we get there, it’ll be swarming with badges.”

“You know, whenever I heard stories in the clink about you losing your edge, living out in the woods like grizzly Adams, I never really believed them.“

“Something’s coming. Something bad, and you and the rest are just a bunch of sheep sleepwalking to the slaughter.”

“Look, I know you like to grieve like you’re alone on an island sometimes, but you’re not.”

“Something happened in that bank, something that got you killing, and you haven’t stopped since.“

“Souls are like… popsicles. Some are sweet, some are bitter, some are strong, and some are weak. There’s a whole rainbow of kinds. Might as well come in a variety pack.”

“We’ll stop. All right? We’ll stop, we’ll, uh, we’ll ditch the car, we’ll get rid of the teller. And whatever’s going on with you… We’ll fix it. Okay?“

“You touch her, I will personally make sure you spend so much time in the hole, your own brother won’t recognize you when you get out.”

“The world never gave you anything. All the world ever did was take.“

“But right now, I need you to trust in the pagan power of technology and please look up that border crossing.”

“This is an ancient weapon used in ritual sacrifice. It’s been written about. Never seen. This should not exist.“

“Well, the eye-in-hand motif appears in codices going back 3,000 years. Represents the two most important gifts a God can bequeath on a man… The ability to see and the ability to take action.”

“You know, I’m not just some dipshit triggerman who screams at bank tellers to open their drawers. I am a scientist, a master tactician. I am a lock artist.“

“Did you forget that I cased that bank for three weeks? That I knew every teller’s schedule upside down, inside out? That I knew that they would be stocking that ATM when you pushed your way in?”

“You’re playing some kind of game with me. You’re trying to play a trick on me. You think that I can’t hear your voice inside me head?!”

“Yeah, I’d say this, uh, little adventure you’re on might be cut a whole hell of a lot shorter than you think.“

“She was consumed and transformed and became a mistress of the night, a harbinger of the next realm.”

“I hear things inside my head, and sometimes she talks to me!“

“This is not who we are. This is not who you are.”

“ This is all gonna be a memory when we get to El Rey. It’s gonna be blue agave… Sunshine, and beaches. Just you and me, buddy. It’s you and me.“

“For so many of us, the journey is one of solitude. We tell ourselves we must walk this arduous road alone. Face whatever comes, no matter how terrible.”

“You see, our eyes are the source of our energy. You can always feel somebody’s eyes on you, but what you’re actually feeling is their energy directed right at you. Now, what happens if you close your eyes? You cut off your energy. If you can just shut down, not only will people not see you, but they’ll see through you.“

“My daddy says a lot of things.”

“It was like you were bleeding, like you were hurting inside.”

“ Everyone should have their hero switch in the ‘off’ position. I make the plan. Everybody executes it, or I execute you. Simple as ‘Sesame Street.’"

“I’ve tuned in to something. And it is showing me the way.“

“You’re part of the last line of defense between chaos and order.”

“We’re gonna survive this 'cause we’re a family.“

“You got nothing to say, huh? That’s funny. I could have sworn you gave me an "f. u.” look.“

“My mistake. Maybe it wasn’t an "f. u.” look. Maybe it was an “I’m gonna make a move” look.“

“You see, you point at what you want to die. You pull the little trigger. Little bullet comes out here. Little bullet hits you right there. Then you don’t look like Bruce Lee anymore.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of not talking.“

“I’m a professional thief, not a killer.”

“That is the third time you’ve disobeyed my direct orders, and nearly got two more men killed for it.“

“Maybe… I’m hoping we hit 17 potholes. So I can empty this entire mag in that smartass mug of yours.”

“Look, I don’t want to have to do this, but I’m gonna have to kill 'em, okay? It’s the only way.“

“Okay, for a while now, I’ve been getting these… signals, I guess you could call them.”

“Guys like that, need to be reminded that power shifts. And as soon as I get the chance, I’m gonna shift it right up that whack job’s ass.“

“You know, a life of looking over his shoulder – isn’t gonna bring him any peace.”

“You take that gun off my brother before the ounce of forgiveness that I have on reserve goes away…“

“Now, I know that you thought you could. I do. But that was before you had your finger on the trigger, wasn’t it? You see, now that you do, you’re worried about the consequences, whereas I am not. That’s why your hand’s shaking and mine’s steady as a rock.”

“Look, if I don’t kill everybody in here, we are never gonna make it.“

“Well, maybe that’s what the voices are telling you, but they’re not calling the shots right now, okay?”

“You three stay out here with the devil’s rejects, have your own little altamont.”

“You do not close a deal behind enemy lines, [name]. You do it on neutral ground.“

“And you think you’re better than me? You too good to have a drink with a common thief?”

“Now, like it or not, we are a family… A broken, messed up, sad excuse for a family.“

“We ain’t got to shoot anybody in the back to make a statement.”

“You just sat down to the table. It’s a little early to fold your hand.“

“You kept saying somebody was calling you here, right? What did you mean by that?”

“Rinche, you’re early to the party, and I don’t remember seeing your name on the list.“

“Obsidian. So much more than steel. It’s a dark mirror. It showed you things, didn’t it?”

“I want you to see this place for what it really is. I want you to feel what I’m feeling.“

“I’m your goddamn brother, and you treat me like I’m the ugly stepkid in the attic.”

“Let me ask you this. Is this really where we belong?“

“No. I’ve seen them in a vision, but I have no clue what these things are.”

“Turns out, you’ve been a part of this club before I even knew it existed.“

“We’re standing on sacred ground.”

“I could feel her inside my head, and she was pulling me close. And, yeah, I think it was to this place.“

“You need a PhD to figure that out?”

“You’re one rude little bastard.”

“35. You did the last one without me, big papa, and it got you tossed in the can.“

“You’re so up your own ass right now.”

“Trick is to find the light again, share it with those you love before it’s too late for all of us.“

“Do you honestly think that I would be here if I was gonna bail on you?”

“So that’s what she taught you to do with your little knife. Back-stab.”

“I’m getting real sick of you calling me a traitor.”

“I wanted to show you who I was on my own terms.“

“You’re stronger now. I’ve drawn that out of you… steel sharpening steel.”

“That was a cruel and ugly thing to do to an innocent girl.“

“These stories are just ancient history to most people. But I always believed the power they spoke of was true.”

“Now, I can do ‘Temple of Doom’, man, but ‘Crystal Skull’, I’m out.“

“There’s nothing but death and misery that way.”

“Time’s like a ribbon… Finds a way of knotting itself into a bow.“

“You’ll be an immortal among mortals, a king among men. You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. All you have to do is ask.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard this story before… young girl plays lost and afraid, hooks a guy, and he falls in love with her. He’ll do anything to protect her. Next thing he knows, he’s lying face down in a swimming pool, reading his own narration.“

“You’ll become more than you ever were… Beyond fire and water… Beyond light and dark… Beyond dusk and dawn.”

“Sorry, brother. Things are about to get a little weird.“

“Whoever has the purity of mind to withstand the trials will be deemed worthy.”

“You made it personal, and that’s why you blew it.“

“You don’t believe he can be saved, do you?”

“We were gonna keep you around for inside information, but there’s been a change in plans. You’re going to serve a higher purpose.“

“You have no idea what I live with day in, day out.”

“Sooner or later, we all dance with the reaper.“

“I think our trickster brothers are trying to pull a fast one.”

“The serpent is filled with her blood. She’s inside me now, [name].”

“I don’t know who you are anymore. I don’t know what you are.“

“[name], something evil and vicious has taken hold of you.”

“When you bite someone, it’s like… it’s like you can feel their life run right through you.“

“I could never hate you as much as you hate yourself.”

“How can I imprison someone when I’ve been in chains my whole life?“

“Do you think it’s possible for someone to change their fate?”

“You know, it’s funny this whole thing kind of reminds me of this job that we pulled about seven years ago in Cheyenne. Yeah, it didn’t just go sideways. It went three ways. We pulled it off, though, didn’t we, brother? You remember Cheyenne, don’t you?“

“You taste like sh1t, by the way.”

“You ever find that beach and blue agave, you let me know. Maybe I’ll come join you.“

#rp memes #rp ask memes #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #inbox meme #ask meme #( meme. )#( reposts this from ro's old blog cuz i'm deleting it )#( queue. )

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