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celluloidbroomcloset · 6 months

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I came across a few posts noting that Ed should not have told Stede not to kill Ned Low, which got me thinking...

I don't really agree with that. That entire scene, both Ed's decision and Stede's decision, is complicated with a lot of different things, but none of them quite so much as the shared knowledge, and pain, of both men. (Yeah, I'm not capable of not writing an essay.)

Stede is the only one who knows about Ed's father. Ed tells himself-as-Hornigold that he never told anyone about killing his father, and Hornigold reminds him: "But you did, though, didn't you? And he left you." Stede is also the only one who knows Ed really doesn't kill - that he, by his own admission, outsources the killing to others. The murder of his father is the center of Ed's self-loathing, and is the thing that he relates, in his conversation with Hornigold, most directly to Stede leaving him.

Low's insults don't affect Ed much; he's heard them before, he knows what's behind them. But Stede has been watching Low hurt people and things he loves - Ed, the crew, the ship itself - without being able to do anything about it. He successfully uses his "people positive management style" to get Low's crew to turn on him, but the problem of Low himself remains and cannot be eliminated in the same way.

Low calling Ed a "lowborn dirtbag" is what finally makes Stede snap, and one could argue that his response is more or less automatic. It's certainly emotional. There's nothing he could say to Low to put him in his place, as he did with the aristocrats in "Dressing Well." It wouldn't work; he cannot meet Low on a level playing field and use the same weapons against him, because Low's whole thing is being a bully and Stede is not a bully. Everyone, including Ed, is surprised when Stede actually draws his sword. But by the time he's done it, there's no going back.

Low obviously reads people quite well, and like many bullies he can suss out the places that will hurt others the most - he knows that torturing Stede will hurt Ed more than torturing Ed. He knows that insulting Ed will hurt Stede more than anything he could say to Stede himself. And he hits on Stede's fears about his masculinity and especially Ed's feelings about him. Low is another in a long line of bullies (Nigel, Chauncey, his father) from Stede's class, and he manages to hit exactly the sore spot, the fear that Ed only loves Stede because of his "bumbling amateur status."

Stede absolutely believes the things that others say about him. In the moment, Stede reads Ed's statement not to kill Low in exactly the way that Low wants him to - as a desire to keep him docile, pure, a pet. Not a real pirate, not a real man. He struggles with it - having gone so far as to hold Low at swordpoint and to force him onto the plank, it's hard to back down. His crew egg him on - Low does indeed deserve to die for what he's done. But when Stede kills Low, to the cheers of the crew, no one but the audience can see his face - the horror and shock at what he's done, as the memories of his childhood shoot across his mind.

As soon as Stede's actually committed the murder, he realizes the true meaning behind Ed's words, and it's this, combined with the shock of having truly, directly, and deliberately killed a man, that sends him running back to his cabin. Stede sees himself as a child, the boy who just wanted to pick flowers, splattered with blood from "men's work." He cannot go back now; he's made a choice, and he murdered a man. He does exactly what he's done each time his own shame has become too much for him, and hides himself.

But when Ed comes to his room, he directly relates it to his own trauma - "I was a wreck after my first kill as well. Well, it was my dad..." He's there not to shame Stede either for his violence or for his self-perceived weakness, but to be present for him.

That traumatic past is part of what unites them. Stede was forced to witness death and was told it was what men do; Ed committed murder, and has been haunted by it ever since. Ed sees the potential of the same thing happening to Stede - being so overcome with guilt and shame at actively committing murder that he suppresses and remakes his self to avoid coping with the horror of what he has done. It doesn't matter that Stede is a grown man and Ed was a child; Ed knows how badly it can warp someone, and Ed knows better than anyone how the abused child becomes the traumatized man. He tries to warn Stede first, recalling their past, and then he shows up for Stede in a way that no one did, or could, for him - not until Stede himself extended his hand and said, "I'm your friend." Ed is there at the door within minutes, asking if Stede is OK, offering his support, not letting him hide alone if he needs someone to hold him.

I've said a lot about the progress from the moment Ed appears at the door to the moment Stede closes the curtain here, but again I don't think it should be read as Stede proving his masculinity or Ed feeling sorry for him. Sex is not being treated frivolously here, either by the show or by the characters. It is an outpouring of pain and grief and deep, intense love between two men who understand each other's suffering at a fundamental level, who have shared things with each other that no one else knows, and who see all of each other, the darkness as well as the light.

#ofmd season 2 #ofmd #our flag means death #gif #stede bonnet #ed teach #edward teach #rhys darby #taika waititi #calypso's birthday #gentlebeard #ned low #ofmd meta #blackbonnet #ofmd stede #ed x stede #yes i included the kiss again because whatever i do what i want #someone pay me to write a book about how this show picks apart toxic masculinity and male trauma and i'll do it

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autumnmobile12 · 10 months

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About the Infant Skull in the Belmont Hold

Trigger Warning: Sensitive topics below.

In a post I made last year, I pointed out the small skull in this display is case belongs to a baby.

The 'crack' down the center of the forehead is a frontal suture which closes between the ages of three to nine months, and to showcase the fact it's not just a cracked bone, the animators included a fontanelle between the bony plates of the skull, which closes before the age of two.

There is the skull of an infant in the Belmont Hold.

So what's the story here?

Theory 1: The Skull is a Vampire

This could have been a human baby that was turned by a vampire for whatever reason. Maybe this was some vampire's twisted idea of a pet. Maybe it was a horrifying, psychological trauma where a human woman lost her baby and after becoming a vampire, turned an infant into a vampire so as to never experience that pain again whilst tragically blind to the fact an immortal infant would never grow up.

If either of these were the case, whichever Belmont found this child could have viewed his or her death as a mercy. Since the baby would be immortal, it would be impractical to keep it alive forever, not to mention almost cruel because what kind of life is that? And it would be equally inhumane to leave the vampire to starve to death, so the options are limited.

The skull was brought home not as a trophy but as a specimen to study and serve as a grim reminder of a harsh reality.

...

Theory 2: The Skull is a Dhampir

Carmilla's above comment gives me the vague impression that it's not unheard of for a vampire to have a child with a human and then turn the human into a vampire, creating a family unit. (Just the way she says it. Like the unspoken line was, "You married a human, you succeeded in getting a child off her, so she was free to become a vampire after, no?" Turning Lisa after Adrian was born was the next natural step in her mind, so it baffles Carmilla why Dracula's wife remained human.) So maybe dhampirs are uncommon, but Alucard is far from the first one to ever exist.

So if the skull belonged to a dhampir like Alucard, this opens up another set of possibilities, but before I go into those, I want to address the Belmont Clan's potential view towards vampires and human-vampire hybrids. It's not clear if Alucard needs human blood to survive. He eats human food, but so do the vampires. Lenore comments they get their essential nutrients from blood, but whether or not this also pertains to dhampirs is up for debate. In the Gresit Underground Keep scene, it does look like he had some form of blood transfusion system possibly sustaining him, but this could arguably be a life and death situation. As in, he doesn't need blood to survive, but it can also save his life if need be.

There's also the possibility the blood-drinking is not the same across the board. (Say Alucard doesn't need blood to survive, but another dhampir was saddled with the shitty genetics that make blood a requirement.)

For the Belmonts, I can see dhampirs being a controversial subject. From Leon to Trevor's time, there are four centuries and countless individuals with their own set of similar but unique values and opinions, so it would be understandable for various Belmonts to have points of contention as well as shifts in viewpoint down the generations as new information about the enemy comes to light. Some members might have the stance of, "Dhampirs do not need blood to survive, are not a threat to humanity, and therefore it is unnecessary to hunt and kill them," while others may have taken the more extreme stance of, "Dhampirs are unnatural creatures that do not belong in this world any more than vampires do." Without the precedent of Alucard and Trevor having a common enemy, there would be nothing to sway the entire family one way or the other.

So if this is the case, the skull could have come from a vampire family similar to Dracula, Lisa, and Alucard's, and that family could have been discovered by a Belmont who made the decision to eradicate the them, including the dhampir for whichever reason:

The existence of dhampirs hadn't been discovered/confirmed yet, so the infant was assumed to be a vampire and it was viewed as a mercy killing out of ignorance. (Remember, Trevor thought Alucard was a vampire when they first met, so there is no visual difference between the two species.)

Dhampirs are assumed by the Belmonts to need blood to survive and are therefore a predator to humans that needs to be put down, again out of ignorance or just plain malice.

This particular Belmont was a heartless psychopath who had no qualms killing an innocent baby just for existing.

...

Theory 3: It's a Dhampir and the Belmonts Have a Really Fucked Up History With Dhampirs

There is also the possibility the mother of the dhampir child was a human woman that was raped and impregnated by a vampire. (Surviving somehow...?) In this scenario, there is a woman terrified by the idea she is about to birth a monster and goes to the local vampire experts for help. The Belmonts take her in until she delivers this unwanted child and the fate of the baby dhampir is entirely in their hands, which brings us back to the mentioned controversy among the family members.

If the mother abandons her 'monster' child, the Belmonts are left which the choice, "Do we kill it before it grows up to kill someone or do we give it a chance and let it live?"

Another possibility is the dhampir was brought up within the household for the purposes of 'studying' or 'rehabilitating' its nature. Say the family discovers dhampirs don't need to subsist on human blood and are relieved. "Wonderful. Dhampirs can live as humans and there is no need to kill them." The dhampir grows up happily among his or her adopted human family.

But then there is a tragic accident where he or she doesn't know their own strength and fatally harms a family member. The Belmonts then make the decision: Lock them up or execute them as a monster.

Based on this precedent, the family then closes off the idea that dhampirs can live as normal humans forever and they subsequently commit infanticide against any future dhampir children that cross their path, a blanket decision based entirely on a one-time misfortune.

Theory 4: The Belmonts Were Not the Cause

This again calls into question how dhampir physiology works, but maybe the infant died of an illness of failure to thrive. Alucard is strong and healthy, but that may not be same for other dhampirs, especially ones that may have been rejected as a 'freak' by both humans and vampires. He had the advantage of having a loving family and a safe environment in which to grow up. Other dhampirs might not have had the same good fortune and their health suffered for it. (Or they got dealt a bad hand in the gene pool.)

As for how the skull wound up in the Hold, it could have been one of the 'weird stuff' the Belmonts found and brought back home with them.

This could also apply to a situation where a vampire killed a rival family and kept their skulls as trophies, and the collection simply wound up in the Belmonts' treasury after destroying said vampire.

"It's like a museum dedicated to the extermination of my people, so no. Not thrilled."

Whatever the truth of the skull, I'm inclined to believe Theories 2 or 3 because this scene struck me as a very subtle nod to how no side in a war is completely innocent. On the one hand, vampires like Carmilla, Cho, Godbrand, etc. hunt and toy with humans for sport and view them as lesser beings, and so the Belmonts seeking to eliminate them would be an understandable measure to protect humanity.

On the other hand, the presence of the infant skull indicates a tragic and bloody history of poor choices, old prejudices, potential atrocities committed by the 'heroes,’ and generational trauma. A past history even Trevor isn't particularly proud of for all the pride he has in his lineage. It really showcases the line between man and monster and aligns with the recurrent theme of 'we can be better than this' that occurs throughout the series.

But let me know if you've got any theories/headcanons different from what I have listed above. I'd love to hear it. Crediting Theory 4 to @thetvpenigma. Thanks for your help!

#castlevania #alucard tepes #trevor belmont #vampire skulls #belmont hold #dhampir #questionable history #medieval prejudices #belmont family #castlevania netflix #vampire hunters #skull anatomy #dhampir physiology #speculation #castlevania headcanons #httyd

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badbatchposts · 2 months

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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy

Happy Bad Batch Eve! I'm obsessed with the new season but the content isn't coming out fast enough so I felt like I needed to write my own.

Tech's not dead and Crosshair rejoins the team partway through Season 2 after Mayday's death rather than being imprisoned by the Empire, but this is otherwise canon-compliant. No Season 3 spoilers.

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Chapter One

“We will be landing on the outskirts of the city ruins shortly. Scanners indicate that it is abandoned, but there is an Imperial outpost located ten klicks East, in the next valley over. This should be a relatively simple operation: make our way to the city center, locate the cargo, and return to the Marauder.” Tech was at the controls of the ship as usual, setting them down in an open, overgrown area where the ruins of the city—little more than rubble and scrap now, haphazardly heaped stoneworks and scorched earth where once there had been homes, streets, marketplaces—were fewer and further between. The remaining members of the squad did their final checks of their equipment, adjusting armor and securing weapons as the hatch hissed open. Wrecker was the first out.

“Woah. What happened here?” The largest member of the squad looked around incredulously. The destruction was not recent; a thick layer of soot, grime, and overgrown weeds was evidence of the neglect that the ruins had been left to. It did not seem that anyone was deeply interested in rebuilding.

Tech had the answer, as always. “A particularly destructive battle toward the end of the war. The city was occupied by Separatist forces. Citizens who were unable to evacuate before the droids moved in were held in a makeshift camp on the North side of town. Luckily, this means that many of them made it out alive once the Republic regained the territory. Their homes…were less lucky.”

Crosshair, Hunter, and Echo followed the pair down the ramp. “What cargo could there even be left to recover in all this?” Crosshair asked skeptically. His voice, as usual, dripped equal parts disdain and boredom.

“Cid’s intel says mostly expensive droid parts,” Echo intervened. “The town had a factory. When the Separatists occupied it, they planned to begin shipping the parts off-world to help with production of their army. The Republic moved in too quickly for them; the factory was destroyed, but the crates were being housed underground awaiting cataloging. As far as Cid’s source knows, they’re still there.”

Hunter looked thoughtful. “Anything to worry about with that Imperial outpost, Tech?”

“Doubtful,” the other replied, examining his datapad. “The cargo is not significant enough to merit their attention, and forces are largely dedicated to patrolling a nearby spaceport, where it would seem most of the refugees have relocated.”

Hunter nodded seriously. “Alright then. Crosshair, get a good vantage point on the hilltop where you can keep an eye on us and any activity from the outpost coming our way. Everybody else, let’s locate that cargo.”

Their forces divided, the rest of the squad beginning to pick their way among the ruins toward the city center, while the slender sniper hiked in the opposite direction. The hills were dotted with trees—not heavily forested, but enough cover for him to dig in and wait. Soon, he crested the peak, settling in at a good vantage point where he could watch the outpost in the middle distance through his scope. Activities at the facility were regular and rhythmic; troopers on patrol, units coming and going from the nearby spaceport. Nothing extraordinary.

“In position. All clear,” he reported over his comm.

“Acknowledged,” came Hunter’s reply. With any luck, the others would retrieve the cargo within a number of hours. He waited, patient and disinterested. He was good at waiting.

Some time later, his comm crackled to life again with a status update. “Cargo located.” It was his turn to acknowledge their progress. For a brief moment, he thought idly about whether he preferred missions like this one—smooth, uncomplicated, if a little boring—or those where everything seemed to go right to shit. At least, he smirked to himself wryly, the latter required more significant use of his skills.

When he heard the screeching sound of failing engines and saw the dark plume of smoke trailing behind the ship on its downward trajectory, all he could think was that the galaxy must have been listening in on him.

It crashed down northeast of his position, the impact of the wreckage echoing out across the valley. The response on his comm came through almost immediately.

“What the hell was that, Crosshair?”

“Downed Imperial shuttle. Drawing attention from the outpost now. Get moving.”

“Well, with any luck that’ll keep them occupied long enough for us to get outta here. Stay outta sight,” Hunter replied. Crosshair shifted his scope from the troopers mobilizing at the outpost toward the crash site, just in time to see a woman emerge from the ship, coughing in the smoke. He had expected a detachment of troopers to come stumbling from the wreckage, not a lone woman. She was human, silver haired, staring back at the shuttle with a look halfway between rage and despair. She slammed her fist against the ship’s hull in frustration, and he smirked a little as she winced, rubbing her hand in pain. She ducked back into the ship, emerging momentarily, pulling a poncho over her head as she strapped a blaster to her hip and pulled on a pack.

He scanned the area around her as she began marching south from the crash, glancing furtively in all directions. She was heading on a trajectory that would intersect any moment with two troopers on speeder bikes. She was moving too slowly, limping a little. This should be interesting, he thought dryly. He was sure the Empire were very welcoming to unauthorized crash landings of stolen shuttles near their facilities.

When the woman and the troopers came face to face, he could only imagine the dialogue accompanying the silent pageant he could see through his scope. The woman slowly raised both hands, throwing a flattering, charming smile at the troopers. She thought she could talk her way out of it, he reasoned. So the flash of the blaster bolt caught him by surprise when she snaked one of her hands behind her head, grabbing a concealed weapon off her shoulder, and fired off a shot.

“Is that blaster fire, Crosshair?!” Hunter demanded over the comm.

“Not mine,” he replied calmly.

“Then who?!”

The round had caught one of the troopers in the chest, toppling him off the speeder bike. The woman took advantage of the confusion to dive for cover behind a tree, exchanging fire with the remaining trooper. What she couldn’t see, of course, were the other half dozen Imperials making their way toward her position. Any moment now, she’d be surrounded.

“Status?” Crosshair queried over the comm.

“Making our way back to the Marauder.”

The woman managed to get a good shot in on the remaining trooper, and he toppled to the ground. However, just as she made a dash for the speeder bikes, two green bolts flashed by, wrecking her getaway vehicles and forcing her to dive once more, losing the smaller blaster. She recovered quickly, unholstering the larger piece at her hip and taking shots at the oncoming troopers as she ran for cover again. It was pointless, he thought. She didn’t stand much chance of escape, alone, on foot. Not this close to the outpost.

From his vantage point, he could see the troopers fanning out, boxing her in. She had the hillside to her back; the elevation would slow down her retreat, even if she could keep up enough cover fire to out-maneuver the speeder bikes. And—the only part that mattered to him—she ran the risk of drawing Imperial attention to the adjoining valley before they finished loading up the marauder.

However, before he could further consider the implications of her retreat, he saw her move to fire off another shot from around her cover. In the brief moment she was exposed, a blaster bolt from one of the troopers clipped her side, propelling her forcefully to the ground. She was close enough for him to hear her strangled cry at the hit, echoing out against across the valley. She scrabbled backwards in the dirt, blaster thrown out of reach. One of the troopers swung off his speeder bike, approaching her slowly as he took aim. They weren’t planning on taking her prisoner. He couldn’t hear whatever words they exchanged, just see the snarl on the woman’s face before her features calmed, peaceful, as she closed her eyes before the inevitable.

Crosshair dispatched the trooper closest to her, expertly, just before the Imperial could squeeze to pull the trigger. He followed it up with three more in rapid succession, the troopers falling dead before they could hope to locate the sniper’s position or find cover. The final two, he saw with some surprise, were caught off guard by the woman, who had managed to crawl over to her lost blaster in the confusion.

She was attempting to limp her way over to one of the abandoned speeder bikes when he caught up to her.

“Stay back,” she warned him, eyes glinting as she aimed her blaster at him.

“Are you even sure you could ride one of those things by yourself right now?” He drawled back at her.

“Of course I can,” she snapped. As if to prove it to him, she gripped the handle of the first one she came to with her left hand, knuckles white, right hand steady as she kept her blaster trained on his chest. She swung her leg and mounted the bike. He watched her grip on the handle loosen as the shock and pain caught up to her, her eyes rolling back in her head as she collapsed.

#the bad batch #star wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone force 99 #bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x oc

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antihibikase2 · 2 months

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Pokemon Blur - Chapter 2 : The High Priestess

At a ranch in Floccesy, a bleeding heart is found.

Divine dragons of Truth and Ideals, heed the prayers of a foolish heart.

Give us the strength to seek hope in despair, to unite when divided.

...

It was already nearing noon- but Bianca knew that she would have a long day ahead of her regardless, so she took what little rest she could in-between, savoring the quietness of the Pokemon Center; even in a far-away place like this, far from her home of Nuvema, there was at least someplace familiar.

The quietness doesn't last long, however- not when the shrill voice of a young girl rings through the air, disrupting the rest of the patrons.

"Hey, hey! You're miss Bianca Alabaster, aren't you?!"

Bianca readies herself mentally with a sip of her hot chocolate- this conversation could go two ways.

Either this was a young girl who had seen her league challenge two years ago, or she was one of those studious children that had taken note of Bianca's recent appearances in television as she climbed her way into the ranks of the scientific community for her recent discoveries.

No matter what, Bianca remained cordial- and forced a sweet smile on her lips as she lifted her head. "Oh, what can I do for-"

A hand is lifted out in front of her.

"You gave Natey a Pokedex, didn't you? I want one too!"

..or perhaps, it could go a third way.

"Rosa!"

A boy comes running in through the doors, bowing his head and apologizing to those he meets- and grabs the feisty girl by the ear, cheeks flushed red.

"Rosa, that's rude! I told you to wait until she came out!"

"Ugh, but she's taking forever! Hugh-"

Quickly, she assesses the scene happening before her; a girl with a pair of buns atop her head, a shiny new Xtransceiver on her wrist, and a hastily clasped Pokeball strap around the handle of her bag. The boy behind her, slightly taller but just as baby-faced, had hair like a Qwilfish and eyes as piercing as a Gigalith's.

Seeing their muddied shoes and matching jackets- one from an outdoor brand, she recalls from one of Hilda's magazine, she comes to a conclusion.

"Oh! You two- are you Pokemon Trainers?"

The boy- Hugh, was caught off guard by her question. Rosa, however, shoves him off of her and squeals in excitement, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes we are! Well, we just got our licenses last winter, but-"

Now she holds both of her palms out.

"We heard you were coming to give our friend his first Pokemon and a Pokedex! We figured you'd be willing to give us some too! The professor needs all the help she can get, right?"

Straight to the point; so unlike Bianca when she was her age.

She liked this girl.

"Rosa!"

"Come on, Hughy! It's not that bad to ask!"

"We can just share Nate's-!"

"Is that all you need?" Bianca interrupts. "If that's the case, I can just ask the professor. She's not really too strict about who gets one and who doesn't- truthfully, it's rare when trainers approach us, so we'd really appreciate all the help we can get when completing the Pokedex-"

"Oh, I don't really care about that part."

"Rosa!"

Bianca blinks.

"Maybe Natey does, and so does everyone- but I wanna use the Pokedex to, you know, learn about Pokemon and their moves. And Hughy here wants to-"

"That's enough!"

Covering her mouth with a gloved hand, he locks her head in his arm and tries to drag her out of Bianca's sight.

"Wait, wait, wait-"

And obediently, Hugh stops in his tracks, while Rosa struggles to break free from his grip.

"It's- it's alright, Hugh was it? It's fine, I promise! It's true the professor markets the role of a Pokedex holder for data completion, but-"

She digs out her own Pokedex from her bag- an older model from two years ago, with a cracked screen and a few bumps and bruises.

What stood out to the two kids, however, was the lower part of the Pokedex- slightly charred, and not from a simple fire-type move.

"-really, it's.. more of the professor's own way of getting kids to set out on a journey, especially those who don't plan on taking the league challenge."

The two kids look at each other for a bit.

"Oh! But of course, it's for learning too! You don't need to complete the Pokedex if you don't want to, but-"

"Then that settles it!"

With a wide grin, Rosa closes the space between her and Bianca, pushing herself up on the coffee table as Hugh tried to yank her off by the hood of her jacket.

"Please, please, pleaaaaaase Miss Bianca! I'd really like a Pokedex of my own, and Hughy does too-"

"Shut up!"

"-so can we please have one? We'll make sure Natey completes his, I promise!"

Most of the patrons seemed to have gone back to doing their own thing. Bianca could only assume that whatever was going on, and who these two kids were, it was a normal occurrence in the city of Aspertia.

She couldn't help but laugh at the familiarity- almost two years ago, she had done the same over Professor Juniper's desk, as her friends tried to pull her away and apologize for her enthusiasm.

"Well, as the professor says,"

She takes out a couple papers from her briefcase, where two of the remaining Pokeballs resided.

"The more the merrier!"

...

Another Lillipup falls to the power of his starter's Ember, something that Nate had been cheering over a few battles earlier.

But, as his Tepig gets stronger and learns more moves, Nate finds himself in a dilemma in the midst of his training in Floccesy Ranch, something that Bianca recommended he do first as a bonding exercise with his starter.

"Hey, Tepig,"

The little Pokemon snorts up at him curiously, wondering why it was no longer basking in praise as it was over an hour ago.

"I don't think we're gonna catch any Pokemon like this."

It doesn't seem to particularly care, however- it's too busy celebrating its consecutive victory, and Nate would too, if he could use any of the Pokeballs that he had been given.

..well, he had, but-

"Missed shots. And if they did land, the Pokemon would break free," He groaned. "And when we try to weaken 'em up, you end up going all out!"

Tepig raises its nose out at him.

"Don't sass me! Miss Bianca asked us to catch Pokemon too, you know! Winning battles ain't the only thing a trainer can do!"

"Bwark!"

Both trainer and Pokemon turn their heads to the sudden noise, much bigger than the cries of other Pokemon they've heard in the ranch.

Not too far from where they were was a Herdier, its posture alert, but not quite hostile.

"Wait, a Herdier?"

He glances at his Pokedex's habitat feature for a second.

"They're not common 'round here. You're not a wild Pokemon, are you?"

The Herdier glances at him almost expectantly. Nate would know if it was expecting a treat, or even a pat.

But with the way it was waiting, it seemed to be calling Nate over for something.

Nate and his Tepig glanced at each other for a moment with the same dumbfounded expression- but Tepig returned to sniffing the tall grass for more opponents to fight, eager to stroke its ego.

With a sigh, Nate rose from his spot on the grass.

"Alright, you stay there. I'll go help this little guy out, alright?"

And as expected, as soon as Nate started making his way to the Herdier, it turned around and started trotting deeper into the ranch.

...

Somewhere in the ranch, a figure clad in black- a shadow with no vessel, stands before a sleeping body in the grass.

Hands on their chest, their skin deathly pale, a red ribbon on their collar blowing in the wind- they looked like a corpse.

The shadow crouches before them, eyeing the pin they wore on their cardigan- the pin of a league member, specifically, a gym leader.

"It would be easy to just grab you like this, but-"

Almost on cue, their Xtransceiver begins to ring- and he hears the sound of a ship from the distance, all the way at Virbank City.

Glancing at the body one more time, they sneer as they disappear in a puff of smoke.

"-you'll find your way back to us, just as the legends foretold."

#bw/bw2 rewrite #bw2 arc

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dogwatch05 · 1 year

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The Sheer Stupidity of Humanity

TW in the video: Blood. Man shoots himself in the leg by hitting a bullet with a hammer. I mean the stupidity. Managed to get a GSW without the gun. I mean now I have to write a story on this.

"Nobody panic!"

Jerna was walking down the human quarter of the ship when she heard this exclamation. Something she had learned after working with humans for the last five years was that if a human said "Hold my beer", "Nobody panic", or "Well shit", you should be very worried or actively ducking for cover. In this case, as she was the local security officer on duty, she had to go investigate.

As she rounded the corner into the dormitory, she saw five human males grouped around another male. Black scorch marks radiated out in all directions from the center of the circle. Jerna tapped her foot on the floor much harder than was necessary and all the men looked up in her direction. Every one of them had a guilty expression on their face.

"And what do we have here?" Jerna questioned, raising her species equivalent of an eyebrow and crossing her arms. A trick she had picked up from a human mother she had once met with.

"Oh uh...Ah hello Jerna. What can we help you with this fine evening?" The single male in the middle called this out while moving his right leg behind his left leg.

"Well Johnson, you can start with telling me exactly what happened in this room. There seems to be explosive markings exactly where you are standing. You boys haven't been playing with explosives again have you? Especially not after the last incident?"

The men all looked at each other, knowing they had been caught red handed, and immediately all started trying to explain at once.

"QUIET! Johnson why are you leaning to the side so much?" Jerna said this right as Johnson toppled over into a heap of human limbs. Sighing, she walked over to inspect the fallen man. There was a large wound in his right calf, bleeding excessively but not fast. Shaking her head, Jerna called in a med unit to come and get the man and sat the remaining men in a line to question them.

"This is going to be a long night," she said to herself as she surveyed the damage to the room and the men sitting in front of her. She pulled out her notepad and tried to ignore the headache she knew she was about to get.

#I'll let y'all figure out what happened and how they tried to explain it from here #humans are dumb #humans are idiots #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #DogWatch05

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shawol-poser · 3 months

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To My Lover From Afar: Record 1

Pairing: Alien AU! Do Kyungsoo x Actress!Reader |CW: Mentions of death, mentions of suicide, but not a lot.|Heavily inspired by the drama series. "My Love From Another Star."|| Word Count: 3k.

Summary: Do Kyungsoo has been living on planet Earth for the past 400 years after having failed to return home due to unforeseen circumstances. With only a few months remaining before his long-awaited return, he's found himself caught in problems and people that he thought he had left behind centuries ago. Is this what humans call, "fate?"

Masterlist

He wouldn’t consider himself a helpful person. He wouldn’t consider himself anything, really.

He’s never thought much about anything. He simply does what he is told and obeys silently because more than the unnecessary chewing sounds of his fellowmen, and definitely more than being the center of attention, he absolutely hates inconveniencing others.

Which is why it surprised him when he found himself moving not of his own accord, as if on autopilot. Using his abilities to freeze time to pull the palanquin aside, then letting nature run its own course again after relocating them to a nearby area.

He opened the entrance of the vessel to find a startled, but fierce -looking young woman with furrowed brows staring back at him. Dressed in flashy colors that showed her status, if the state of the palanquin wasn’t enough. He smiled gently to reassure the poor woman as he held out his hand for hers to take, which she took, but not without regarding him warily.

His experiences over the years were still vivid in his mind.

One would think that after all this time, you’d forget them with how long you live. From thrilling nights, to mundane one-off meetings, not everything can be so easily forgotten.

A misfortune brought about by his own existence.

Which is why he’s here now as he is.

“1601. The first year of Gwanghae’s rule. The Records of Joseon Dynasty report an unidentified flying object seen in the sky.” From staring at his own hands, he looks up at the camera he’s set up. “It was that very object that brought me to Joseon. The people on Earth named my star KMT 184.05. A planet very much like Earth.”

Over the years, since the Joseon era until now, he’s recorded all of his notable observations on various mediums. What was once, ‘Hanyang’ 300 years ago is now, ‘Seoul.’ And after having lived there for years, he has fully adapted to life on Earth. His only weaknesses so far are his inability to share blood and bodily fluid with humans, however he is rarely in a situation that would require it.

His continued refusal to a night out with his colleagues might seem suspicious, but many simply think he’s unsociable. Or arrogant.

He doesn't concern himself with anyone but himself. He simply does what he is expected and obeys silently because more than the unnecessary small talk of his colleagues, and definitely more than lousy questions, he absolutely hates inconveniencing others.

Which is why he doesn’t bother using his abilities to help anyone. “It’s meaningless for me to get involved in their lives,” is what he always tells himself. Just like how he couldn’t return home for over four centuries, whether anyone likes it or not, some things are just bound to happen.

“Earthlings call this phenomenon, ‘Fate.’” He looks down at the hourglass as the sand on the upper half starts diminishing, then looks back up.

“A new fate is beginning.”He smiles a bit at the thought.

“The comet I’ve waited 400 years for will be coming to Earth soon. In three months, I can finally return to the planet I came from.”

——————————

“Ah, sorry to ask, but have you moved my stuff already?” Around 700 meters away from the alien's apartment, you ask your manager about the state of your belongings.

You’ve asked your management company what a good place would be to move to, given your current filming location, and you were told that "Moonrise Palace" was one. You’ve scoped out the available units, and while you wished for something on the lower floors, the unit on the 20th floor was the only one that was both within your taste and space.

It was also a lot more spacious than you were used to, but you suppose that wouldn’t be so bad.

The owner also boasted about how soundproof the higher floors were in comparison to their lower counterparts.

So you agreed to move there.

“Who do you take me for? Of course I have.” Your manager joked as he handed you your drink from the cafe nearby, phone in the other hand.

“Ah, I see.” You thanked him as you received the cup and drank from it.

And like clockwork, Mingyu, your manager, took a picture of you mid-drink, and started typing away on his phone to post on your company’s SNS account.

You notice this and sighed. “Can we stop doing this every time?”

“When you’ve decided to make your own account where you can post your own pictures, maybe.” He says without looking up from his phone.

The thought makes a chill crawl up your spine.

You do have an SNS account, various in fact, but they were all devoted to the many fandoms you were in. All of which have amassed quite the following over the years. From serious written reviews, to almost cringe-worthy, thirsty professions for your favorite characters, you’ve posted them all.

So with both the “you” as a famous Hallyu star actress of 2023, and the “you” as the faceless owner of these accounts, you can’t even imagine how messy your career would look if they were able to link these two personas together because of one misclick, or mispost.

Hell, nowadays people can even guess who they’re talking to based on how they type.

You shake thought out of your head. “Isn’t it fine as it is then?”

Mingyu finally looks at you after posting the picture to greet you with a horrified face. “What are you saying? You’re a star, you need to stay trendy and relatable!” The expression makes you laugh and he only huffs at you. After having worked with each other for 3 years, you’ve grown comfortable with teasing each other.

“Anyway, we should get you to class, you haven’t gone in a while. You’re done for the day, right? Because we’re not.” You sigh and head to the van with him, ready for another long lecture of social media etiquette in the hopes of getting you to make one.

Which was the intention, if it weren’t for a certain chaebol interrupting you two. The doubling of the already frequent camera flashes making you see afterimages.

“Ah– Hyung!” Mingyu bows as he greets him, but is ignored as the man makes his way to you.

“Oh Y/n!” The man regards you with an easy smile, his boyish charm peaking through with the way he jogs towards you two.

“You’ve gotten so much prettier since I last saw you.” He moves in to hug you, but your eyebrows only knit together and skew upwards as you put your hand on his chest to keep him at a distance.

“Yah, Park Chanyeol. When did you get back?” He grabs your hand and moves in closer regardless with a smile and a laugh.

“Just 30 minutes ago! I’m on a break right now, but that doesn’t matter. You haven’t seen me in 6 months, aren’t you glad to see me?”

“I don’t have the luxury to be glad when you’re around.”

“Isn’t that exciting then? I’m keeping you on your toes!”

“Rather than that, wouldn’t you be ‘stressing me out’ then?”

“I heard you were heading to uni anyway. Let me drive you! I–...” He looks almost shy as he pauses, which makes you sigh for probably the third time in the past hour.

“I really wanted to see you.”

“And I really didn’t–” You notice your manager watching the exchange and remembered what you were supposed to be doing. “Look, as much as I really appreciate it, I have to go-–”

“Let me take you then. You’re going to your university right?” The incessant offer makes you want to immediately refuse, but you’re interrupted by your manager.

“Hyung, that’s a great idea!” He then turns to you and lowers his voice in a scolding manner. “Noona, this will be good for you, I promise.” He smiles warmly at the both of you and escorts you to your friend’s car.

——————————

“Well, aren’t you in a good mood.” If there’s anything you know about Chanyeol from knowing him for so long, it’s that he only fusses with his hair when he’s excited.

That, and the constant checking of his reflection on anything that he can see himself on. In this case, his rear-view mirror.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be when you’re by my side?” He looks at you through the mirror and waits for your reaction as he continues.

“Isn’t the timing of things incredible? Hey, you should cut down on your schedule! That way, when you graduate next year, we can get married–”

“Ah, you can just drop me of there by the taxi–”

“Oh come on, what's your problem? Do you not have any plans to get married?”

“I didn’t say that–”

“So you will someday?”

“Yeah, maybe–”

“Then why don’t you just marry me? The earlier, the better! It could be fun!”

“I said that I’d get married someday, maybe, just for sure not next year.”

“Why not?” You looked at him, ready to curse him out, but noticed that the question was serious. His confusion clear through the mirror despite keeping his eyes on the road.

“Are you serious? What about all of the posters and merch I have of all of those ikemen? My precious Masamune Date, my beloved SHINee, huh? 2D, 3D, I’m not throwing them away just to make some guy comfortable. I want to keep them in my room, I need inspiration! Besides,”

You pause to catch your breath, which unintentionally leaves Chanyeol hanging on to the words that come out of your mouth after.

“What about my job, huh? At this age, I’m surprised I’m still getting romantic roles. Getting married basically guarantees my next one being some ajhumma in a shitty comedy.” He laughs at your foul mouth, one that he’s grown accustomed to over the years, but he reassures you.

“You? An ajhumma? That would be pretty funny, but I doubt it. You’d still be pretty, marriage wouldn’t change that, and you’d still get those romantic rom-com roles. When there are no more offers, I can just ask my father to produce something for you to star in!”

Ah, there goes your fourth sigh. You really wonder sometimes if he’s using the rich kid card seriously or not.

“I don’t do rom-coms, have you seen my fanfics? I want to do something steamy.”

A hush falls over the car ride and you almost want to laugh at your friend’s rapidly pailing face.

“You’re really funny, you know that?”

“I wasn’t kidding.”

“Something,... steamy?”

“Yeah. You don’t like that?”

Chanyeol chuckles, and you can’t tell if it’s out of awkwardness or nervousness. “No! I mean– of course, I like that, you know! Rom-coms aren’t your style, and you’d be great at the steamy stuff since, uh, you know so much in uh, your writing–”

“My writing with those kissing and bedding scenes?” You push further to make him see your point and he not so subtly fans himself with the neckline of his shirt.

“H-Hey, I get it, okay! I’m studying in America! My mind is open to stuff like that, you know? This here is an American mind!” He emphasizes this by tapping his temple. “I understand the difference between your professional career and your private life.”

“I really don’t care if you get it or not, as long as the person I marry has that mindset.” He laughs again, finding comfort in your words despite them showing clear refusal.

“Isn’t that me then? I’ve told you a thousand times since middle school.” He turns to look at you earnestly before returning his eyes onto the road, continuing his sentiments as he does.

“I know you speak English, but we’re speaking Korean right now. So there’s no way you’d misunderstand this, right?

You look at him from the corner of your, admiring his resolve, but feeling firm about your stance. “...I got it, alright?”

————————————————————

So that was what Mingyu meant, huh? It seemed that everyone that saw you leave with Chanyeol were clamoring to find news about your relationship, and so some nosy camera men from various media outlets waited at what seemed like all possible entrances to your university.

The memory of people pushing to snap pictures of you literally seconds ago makes you curse internally. Your manager soon tagged along and accompanied you to class as a buffer, which you were thankful for.

You loved acting, truly. You loved your job almost as much as your posters. But sometimes the attention you receive outside of your job and right in your face was really tiring.

Speaking of attention,

“She’s so much prettier in real life.”

“Her fingers, they look so delicate, just like her.”

“I want to be the chair that she sits on.”

‘Okay, that’s fucking weird to say out loud, but I can’t complain because I’d probably say that about Sanada-san too.’ You thought to yourself.

“She clearly got her nose done.”

“No skincare can be that good, that’s for sure botox.”

“Her eyes, come on! That’s clearly surgery.”

‘It’s called learning makeup. Why don’t you stop wasting your damn time caring about me and start minding your own shit.’

A mixture of positive and negative whispers filled the room the moment you entered and sat on your seat. A few flashes on cameras also greeted you. You’ll admit that it’s been a few weeks since you’ve sat there again because of the drama you were shooting, but it seems that no one has claimed it while you were away.

You feel your manager elbow you a bit after giving up on stopping the people in the class from taking pictures. He rubs the space between his own brows, and you realize that you’ve been furrowing your own for a while now.

“Y/n, you’re so obvious. You look like you’re swearing at them with your eyes.” You blink away whatever expression you might’ve had on left and try to relax as you slump into your space.

Not long after, you joined your classmates in greeting your lecturer and only then have you really seen his face.

You’ve been to his class before, of course. But after only attending what was probably only 30% of the time, and stressing more about how to hide your face when you do go, you’ve never really noticed,

“He’s pretty good-looking.”

It was a small comment, you were sure of it. Not even Mingyu who was right next to you heard it. So your lecturer raising his head from his podium to look at you, was that just a coincidence?

You bowed anyway when you made eye contact, just to be polite, and debated on keeping your head down for the rest of the lesson.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/n.”

Class couldn’t have ended earlier. As much as you’ve found biological anthropology to be of interest, all you wanted was to have time to yourself before eventually having to return to stressing about anything and everything.

You were so ready to leave in fact, your manager was just waiting outside the classroom door, but your professor seemed to have other plans.

“Oh Y/n, I’d like to talk to you.” He looked up from his records on the table, and gestured for you to approach him.

The few stragglers that were just about to leave were suddenly very interested in the conversation and were ready to whip out their phones had they not been stared down and dismissed by him.

You breathed out the tension building up in you and nodded as you neared his table. His gaze back on the papers in front of him.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong, so stop acting like you have. You can’t have pissed him off when you barely even remember his face, so you’re sure you haven’t done anything incriminating.’

You waited for him to speak, keeping a polite distance. Wringing out your fingers as you do, a nervous habit of yours.

“You know that my class has an expected 80% attendance, correct?”

“Eh?” This was news to you. Is that why you’ve been repeating this course for a while now? “Ah, of course, I’m very sorry about that. I’ll be sure to attend more regularly.”

He shakes his head before finally looking at you. And while your eye contact is less direct, given his pair of glasses that separate your gazes, you don’t feel any less anxious.

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, but attendance is a requirement. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve marked you present in the last semester.”

“I understand your point sir, but I have a job that requires me to be avaiable at all times.”

“Many other students taking this course have jobs like you, you know? And they take the initiative to still regularly attend classes because they value their education.”

Ah.

Could it be…

He doesn’t know who you are?

You really don’t like using the, ‘I’m famous’ card, but surely it could help in this situation, right?

“With all due respect sir, I’m currently–”

“Also, please remember to submit your essay tomorrow. You’re not exempted from the deadline unless you present a medical certificate excusing your absence for the past few weeks. Please refer to your notes from today for your paper’s coverage.”

He doesn’t even let you get a word in, nor does he look at you, as he gathers his things.

“I’m looking forward to your work, so please do it.”

“...Yes, professor Do.” You sense no sincerity in his words, but you know it’s for formality’s sake. Still. Having to prepare and finish an essay with nothing to go on but today’s notes by tomorrow is insane to even you.

The self-proclaimed, ‘Queen of Procrastination.’

He gets up to leave, and you bow to show your thanks as he exits the room. Leaving no one left but yourself to steam with your thoughts.

Not that you could’ve thought about much because a notification from your phone quickly destroyed the spiral in your head before it could fully form.

You quickly checked to see the preview of the message on your homescreen. A simple bubble that read, ‘Let’s have dinner, ok?’ from Chanyeol with a cute sticker following it.

“Ah, shit. Here we go again.”

——————————

Ahhh, I hope this was serviceable-- It's been a while since writing a series like this has greatly excited me, and I'm glad that this was what got me into the process of it. Anyways, feel free to share your thoughts on my writing, maybe the pacing(?) of the story, the amount of dialogue, etc.

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lemortehomme · 1 year

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New Story Coming Soon!

I've been quiet for a bit but I haven't been idle! I've been working on my next longfic. You can find a preview of some of the first chapter below the cut!

Also, I have been balls-to-the-wall with this dang story and have absolutely no outside perspective on it 🙃 so if anyone would be interested in beta-ing, hit me up. I'm not looking for line-by-line editing, more so pacing and "why the fuck is this plot thread here when you never pick it back up" kind of beta-ing. It is already a long story (so far, 27 chapters and over 100k with more to come), so I would be happy to offer betaing in return, or illustrate your story, or attempt binding one of your fics into a book (I'm still learning how to do this though lol).

Revenant

Beth wakes up screaming in the back of an ambulance, dying not from a gunshot to the head, but from a suicide attempt. Walkers are nothing but a distant memory she can't forget and no one remembers. Three lonely years later, Beth is almost ready to accept the memories are delusions, until Daryl Dixon crosses her path for the first time.

And he knows her name.

A loose thread dangles from her sleeve. Beth captures it between her fingers, rolling it back and forth until it twists itself into a sharp point. She lets go and the thread curls, but the point remains. There is a muted squeak from the office chair across from her as Dr. Blake shifts in her seat.

Beth looks at her from beneath wheat straw hair, dried to a crisp by the industrial-strength shampoo she must use. Dr. Blake is pretty in the way older women are; the lines on her face are comforting and the crows feet punctuating the corners of her eyes hold a lifetime's worth of experience. Beth knows she is married because of the ring, but there are no photos of her family on her desk. There is, however, a framed photo of a sunset, film-grained and amateur in a way that speaks to it being a shot Dr. Blake or her husband took, rather than a photographer's work. Beth has always wanted to ask where it was taken.

Dr. Blake shifts again and says, "Are you sure you don't have anything else you'd like to share with me today, Beth? Not even your opinion about our kitchen's take on chicken parmesan?"

"No, I've been feelin' alright," Beth says with a little shake of her head, straw hair rustling like dead grass.

Grass baked by the sun crepitated as worn soles broke the stems; the enduring sun brought beads of sweat popping up across her forehead as she watched Rick make his way down the hill. On the other side of the fence waited—

"Can you tell me what you see right now?"

The thread is caught again between her fingers and Beth lowers her eyes to her laceless shoes. "I see you. In your chair. Your desk. I see my shoes. The carpet."

"Good. Will you tell me what it was?"

"My hair. It sounded like grass."

Dr. Blake blinks patiently, waiting, as she always does, for Beth to volunteer more information of her own free will. But the more Beth talks about these delusions—delusions, she must use the right word or she will slip up; they are not memories—the longer she will be here, so she doesn't. It is her second longest stint, three months so far. She's been shuffled between the centers, units, and wards of half the state. Maggie promises there's a place waiting for her at home every time they talk, but Beth knows the bed waiting for her is conditional. She will lose herself again and return to the bland embrace of locked wards.

She doesn't get a say in these decisions. Each one is made for her and will be long after she returns home. One of the decisions made for her happened right after she was locked away the first time and the courts said she was not in a place to make decisions for herself. The problem with being crazy is once people know you're crazy, you can never convince them otherwise

"Okay. Our time's almost up. I'm really proud of the progress you've made here," Dr. Blake says, turning her clipboard over to reveal the smooth, brown back. "I think you have a solid foundation for success."

And with those words, Beth knows she is getting out soon, because she has not made any progress, she only knows how to lie in the way they want.

#bethyl #bethyl fanfiction

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thaliajoy-blog · 4 months

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Feeling like doing another analysis of Targaryens 😙 this time focusing on this particular trio that are Daeron I, Aegon IV and Daemon Blackfyre. It interests me a lot in the context of what unites them the most glaringly ; three Targ men who sat the throne or intended to and who had a certain opposition to the Dornish, the people from one part of the realm representing how Aegon's conquest was an unfinished business - they are reputed impossible to conquer. They also represent a sort of foreignness in Westeros, and they are a somewhat more progressive people, at least when it comes to women's rights.

It's interesting as post-dance the hostility of the Targaryen throne against them become particularly strong almost from the get-go, right after the mourning period represented by Aegon III's rule. After having lost their dragons & having mourned them, with Daeron, the Targs go immediately find an arch-nemesis to defeat & finally finish the conquest, obviously to prove to themselves that even without their dragons they are still special. Daeron I doesn't have a dragon, but he IS a dragon, so it doesn't matter. Funny how that parallels how Aegon I was called "Aegon the Dragon", like he was himself a powerful beast. They want to go back to their origins...

...and it's so amazing cause not only is it obviously doomed because even Aegon with three dragons couldn't do it, but also the motive for Daeron to get it done seems so self-centered. It's not even a matter of really unifying Westeros, it's about confronting his insecurities, or the Targaryen fall from grace. It's about trying to beat fate and remain above mortal peers. It's kind of reactionary, in a sense. It's a worship of their blood and of violence and death (Daeron gets a fuckton of people killed for this). It's replaying the part of the conquest which felt like the worst and most selfish already - Aegon & his sisters pitifully losing & getting themselves killed by trying so hard to break & subjugate a people that won't accept to be ruled by anyone else, no matter the cost. Even their desire for vengeance fell flat there.

And some time after Daeron I, comes Aegon IV, who was the worst in any way possible and who tried to undo the peace talks made between the Targaryen crown and Dorne by planning invasions of it despite his own son being married to Myriah Martell. As Daeron called himself a dragon and used massive manpower to try to take & hold Dorne, Aegon IV tried to have a mechanical dragon built by alchemists and got a lot of people killed trying to make this fancy reality. So comes back the pattern of trying to go back to the old days in one way or another. This one involving wildfire can make us think of the folly of Aerion, who thought about making himself a dragon by swallowing wildfire - kind of a fusion of Daeron I & Aegon IV's vision. In fact, Daeron II is most likely named after Daeron I so I imagine Aegon IV kind of liked his cousin, and shared some of his ideas, as least about Dorne.

Adding to that the elements of his monstrous misogyny which feels relevant with Dorne as a "more progressive" land that Targ kings like Aegon IV have sought to invade & subjugate. At least thematically.

So when it comes to Aegon IV's son Daemon Blackfyre, other connections can be made ; Daemon is not just Aegon's favorite son (so more likely to have taken in some of his father's ideas because of his affection for & interest in him) but also Daena Targaryen's son, who liked Daeron I a lot and who possibly thought she would marry him in the tradition of their house, and who probably mourned him after he was killed in his attempt to make Dorne a part of the realm (she was also really into dragons). And Daemon didn't try to invade Dorne not was he obsessed by dragons as far as we know...but he still fits the pattern in a more naked way. It's not about the dragons, as well know little of Daemon's politics directly - Daemon just represents a "better time", by looking more the part of a Targaryen king than Daeron - he's a warrior like Aegon I or Daeron I, he is the right masculine ideal, unlike Daeron II who isn't athletic and who is more paralleled to king Baelor, as his reign & marriage are the fruits of Baelor's desire for peace between Westeros & Dorne, with a union that doesn't come from violence. He is named after a controversial Targaryen figure, who still represents the male Targaryen ideal - good warrior and dragonrider. He is, unlike Prince Baelor, literally of the right "race" - fully Targaryen, and looking the part.

We don't know Daemon's politics, but we know of the people behind him ; how his followers have a tendency to be anti-dornish & to be hostile to the presence of many influent women at court (it's hugely ironic, with Daemon's mom having been a potential ruler in her own right). It's the point in the post dance when full where reactionary politics come completely out of the surface - Daemon is a figurehead to a movement of lords who think "things where better back then" and who see Daemon as the heir of the idealized Targaryen dynasty they have in mind, one when Dornish where still their ennemies and when their leader was a powerful charismatic leader they could be proud of.

Actually that part I talked about Daeron I using massive manpower to conquer Dorne and feeling like he loved conquest, death and violence feels relevant with these words of Eustace Osgrey, a loyal follower of Daemon : "A great battle is a terrible thing, but in the midst of blood and carnage, there is sometimes also beauty, beauty that could break your heart.". Death and blood hiding beauty feels like such a sinister thought that is at the heart of the love Daeron I & Daemon inspired, to people who saw battle & war as the pinacle of a man's life. Especially with how they hated a man like Daeron II for not being very capable in battle. Eustace also talks of death having more honor than mercy, also a sinister sentiment ("I should have gone with Bittersteel into exile, or died beside my sons and my sweet king. That would have been a death worthy of a chequy lion descended from so many proud lords and mighty warriors. Daeron's mercy made me smaller.") ; a worship of death by warriors.

#valyrianscrolls #daeron i targaryen #aegon iv targaryen #daemon blackfyre #asoiaf meta #2 am post 🤒

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crystalelemental · 8 months

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Unit Teambuilding - Koga

The new EX for the month is, for some reason, Koga. I want to complain. I want to say this is sad to me in a month that has been unparalleled in its disappointment. But let's be honest, Poison desperately needed the win.

General Overview Koga is, earnestly, a pretty solid F2P sync pair. As far as Poison goes, he's practically exceptional. Decent if awkward self-setup that plays directly into a 100% multiplier, Poison Fang into Venoshock for DPS, Mind Games 9 on Venoshock for debuffing, and he's even fairly tanky and has evasion for a Tech pair. Koga can do quite a bit, and with a potent sync nuke, he's a reasonable approach to clearing stages.

Or, well, he should be. See, Koga's tools are good, but also littered with limitations. Single-target debuffs aren't great for fast-paced 3v3 games, and never really were. Evasion doesn't really help against sync nukes. 50% to land Toxic, which he outright requires to deal damage, is too inconsistent, and a major source of frustration in Gauntlet stages given they keep shrugging it off. His DPS is poor, and while sync is much improved, it's...never quite impressed me. Koga's one of those sync nukers who really just wants to get to sync, and the time in between is kind of a nightmare for him.

But I think on balance, he still comes out as a very strong common. Few of these criticisms don't also plague the rest of the F2P pool, and most have it worse than he does.

EX and investment? The question remaining, however, is whether the EX is worth it. I'd say getting to 5* and 3/5 definitely is, Poison is hard to shop for and he's the best non-limited you're likely to find (sorry, Looker). But it's a harder sell on EX. You would think it's an easy yes, Tech gets such a boost from it. But the question of being worth it has to come from whether he's picking up KOs he otherwise misses out on. And I don't think that's been his issue. At least, not for me. Usually if he misses KO, it's by a lot, in something like Gauntlet, or against center in CS. And often it's because the Poison didn't land. I think he's an okay addition, but similarly to Clair, I feel like lacking the EX wasn't his problem. Dude just needs Hostile Environment.

Team 1: Koga, BP Janine, H!Iris/Oleana/Drasna BP Janine and Koga were designed to be used together. Double Crobat offers Koga exactly the buffs he needs without relying on MPR for max crit and evasion. Janine offering special attack on the same button as evasion is even better. H!Iris is a great pick, thanks to Poison Zone, debuffs from Acid, and most importantly, Hyper Beam. Koga's nuke is great, but he lacks for DPS, something that Iris covers very well. The fact that she also needs Janine's exact buffing kit makes this team particularly effective. But let us also not mince words: Janine is frail. She does not take hits, and relies painfully on dodge. Oleana is an alternative to Iris. She doesn't debuff special defense, but her DPS is actually stronger, and the lack of Zone means turning off Offenses +5 for No Field Effects. Combined with the debuff to offenses and sure-Toxic on her Max Move, she's a very good fit for the team. Though she does come with the issue of needing both physical and special damage reduction off. As a final consideration if you're looking for something more F2P friendly, Drasna in the general pool has fantastic on-type damage through Sludge Bomb, and receives all the same benefits from Janine.

Team 2: Koga, BP Clemont, Viola Koga is also useful in Stall comps, thanks to Toxic, and the high evade chance. Complemented with BP Clemont's defense buffs and Synchro Healing, as well as Viola's trap and special attack debuffs, they're a good core against specially-focused stages. Lodge Lillie can be used over Viola if you need physical.

Final Thoughts Koga's never really stood out to me, and it has more to do with his lack of supportive effects than anything. Mind Games 9 is cute, but single-target often doesn't amount to much. Toxic is sometimes nice, but it's the worst status for Gauntlet, single-target in CS, and only a 50/50 per hit. Koga feels like he exists entirely for damage, and felt fairly clunky at it to begin with. But a strong nuke in a rare type still counts for something. And who knows, maybe one day we'll get a Sprint pair that really works for him.

#unit teambuilding #koga

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mandiips · 2 years

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Hi. I like your post. I like Frontier but I just watched it as a kid. So, being my favorite season, do you mind giving me some Lore? I just love the idea of a bigger worlbuilding for Frontier.

Don't mind at all, I've been waiting for a work break so I could finally write this.

The lore is already extremely solid for a kids show. But one thing I always found missing were motivations- for pretty much everything.

Why were the kids chosen?

Where did the Legendary Warriors and Celestial Angels come from?

It's clearly stated that the Ancient Warriors DEFEATED Lucemon, so why is he in some weird chamber in the center of the Digi-world? Why didn't they just scan him?

What’s the status of the Ancient Warriors? God-like? Highly respected? Why choose the Celestial Angels to run the world and then just yeet yourselves off the map?

Was a love triangle really the beginning of the end of the world?

and other world-building questions, such as

Where were the cool deity, ritual things the candlemon did in later episodes?

How do digimon know what humans are... we have human digimon, but do they know that they're based on real humans? are humans a fairytale? whats going on here??

Were there any leftover stigmas between beast and human digimon? Or digimon of different categories and what-not?

Isn't there a government? Why don't we see this government??

HOW WAS SOCIETY FAIRING DURING THE- Y'KNOW- WAR THAT CHERUBIMON WAGED?

basic simple questions (i’m in over my head)

To make it easier to fill in the gaps, let's make a skeleton structure. So far I’ve distinguished four main time periods in the frontier world. I also imagine that the date system is structured around the rise and fall of Lucemon. Like B.R. (before reign) or A.F. (after fall) Lucemon is already based off lucifer, so why not roll with religious references? (also. also... nardo reference. you see you see what i what i-)

I’m gonna focus on the “middle” time period for this post. Early Lucemon will take too long and I can’t talk about the main story until I rework the kiddies. This is the original exposition we get in the series anyway, might as well start with that. (Also see as I struggle to come up with cool names for things lmao)

[Brief Scanning Explanation]

All digimon have a core that their data forms around. When a digimon’s core hatches in the Village of Beginnings, it’s at it’s purest and most dense form. But over time, corrupt data can flood into the core and change it, a lot like a virus. A ritual called Scanning is able to physically remove the core to the outer shell of the body to allow for clean up. What happens to the Digimon after the ritual depends on how much of their data was corrupted. If more than half the digimon’s data was corrupt, then the remaining, pure data will reform into a digiegg. Essentially “killing” the digimon. If less than half is corrupt, then the digimon will be fine and likely de-volve at most. I’m sure I’ll have to tweak and add exceptions to the rules as I go, but for now this is our basic power system.

So, originally, we know the deal. 10 Ancient Warriors gang up on Lucemon, defeat him, Celestial Angels are appointed as president. What are we missing?

Where did the Celestial Angels come from?

Why wasn’t Lucemon just scanned?

The Ancient Warriors realize that Lucemon can’t be defeated so simply. Unlike most digimon, Lucemon had equal amounts of pure and corrupt data at hatching. He’s the living embodiment of Yin and Yang. Scanning him isn’t going to work for numerous reasons. So instead, they decide to split Lucemon into four parts. Seraphimon, Ophanimon, Cherubimon, and t̶̪́ḧ̴̹̃̑͊e̵̮̙̭̗̹͔͑͗̈́͛̅ ̸̩̳̱̳͎̆ͅH̷̦̐̊̈́̏ͅủ̶͙̼̤͖͔̟s̵͙̘̳̗̰̃͊́̑k̷͙͠. After initially splitting him in half, the warriors banish Lucemon’s h̴̢̟͓̘͎͗̊̆̍͊̇u̴̯̲͔̮̞͌ş̴̼̃́̊͛ḵ̷̟͒̎̑͜ to the depths of the digital world. The remaining pure data is far too powerful to keep in a single unit, so it’s split into thirds… resulting in the birth of the three Celestial Digimon.

The Ancient warriors go a step further in making sure this asshole doesn’t somehow collect his remaining parts and revive by setting themselves up as protective barriers all throughout the digital world’s weakest points. (The platforms we see the inactive spirits reside in except more.. temply) They’re basically acting as locks that keep the Digital World’s fractal code in place. Afterwards, the Celestial Angels decide to help with governing the digital world as society will likely soon collapse with all the damage that Lucemon instilled over the years.

That only brings us to the start of the middle period- oh jeez. This is the part where I see in-story exposition becoming shady. Because corrupt governments are so fun to play with. Obviously as the years go by the story of the ancient warriors becomes farther and farther from the truth. But the one main exposition point is that Ophanimon, Cherubimon, and Seraphimon ARE Lucemon.

Now Lucemon has objectives:

Undo the protection codes around the digital world.

Makes fractal code unstable and easier to break out of

Three remaining parts must fall and return to him in order for revival.

Destroy and rebuild the world yada yada

Just imagine our gang not knowing about this and then finding out last minute when its already too late. The ground starts rupturing and shaking and just when they thought they can finally go home- out pops fucking god. And they're the reason that fucking god is here now because they just got played.

probably a normal tuesday for them ngl

I also want to full on integrate digimon categories and power systems, which leads into the existence of cults, wars, armies and the like.. But I can't really flesh out that type of lore untill I rework characters. Needa give a role to Ophanimon and Seraphimon that isn’t damsel in distress, which means equaling out the balance of power- at least at the start…

I am in over my head.

This is why I love the frontier lore. There are so many gaps to fill in and questions to ask. It’s a great exercise for plot construction. Thanks for the ask, anon. Love rambling about this stuff.

#digimon #digimon frontier #df rewrite #manny mumbles #manny rewrites #asks

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azula-omnipotens · 1 year

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I am curious however. Does your nation have serfdom? Do common peasants have little to no rights and their status passed to their children? Do only those of higher class and of superior fire bending get the most educated positions? Do the sons and daughters of lets say a doctor have the option of choosing a different path?

Because there is a tragic tale I would like to tell you. Depending on your point of view you could say it was foolish or heroic. Or perhaps both.

It happened two centuries ago. In Russia's capital city of St. Petersburg. Back when Russia was an Empire and controlled more territory than now. It took place a decade after Russia and her allies defeated the French Empire. After the victory, some army officers who had been exposed to European Liberalism thought that Russia too can become less autocratic and that power can be shared amongst the people. Most of Russia's allied countries were Constitutional meaning that even the common folk are given more freedoms. And serfdom have been abolished. Some of those army officers even dreamed of adapting a Federal Democratic system like the United States did and even believed that Russia can thrive without an Emperor. So together they formed secret societies and in time gathered more supporters. However, when the current Russian Emperor died, it was far too early for the army officers as they wanted to take their manifesto to the emperor himself to being change. There was further confusion as to who would succeed him. As some thought it was his eldest son who would become the new ruler and as a result swore their loyalty to him. But when asked if he could rule, he got cold feet and refused thinking he would be assassinated. So his younger brother took his place and declared himself the new emperor of Russia. The rebel army officers however didn't want him on the throne as they saw him as another martinet oppose to any form of liberalism. So, they launched a coup d'etat in the capital and marched on the city center while recruiting more to their cause by saying that the new emperor was in fact trying to overthrow his older brother from the throne. So the new soldiers they had followed them thinking they were stopping a coup when in fact they were aiding one. The new Russian Emperor however caught wind of their plans and ordered that all troops present in the city as well as the Senate to swear their loyalty to him. Soon the city was divided between Loyalist Troops and Rebel Troops who called themselves the Decembrists as their rebellion took place on December 14. But there was a critical flaw in the Decembrists plans. Some of the main ringleaders were not present as some suddenly lost their nerve to their cowardice or were reluctant to spill the blood of their own soldiers and people on their own soil. While others didn't show up at all or had given up hope in the revolt once they heard that the Russian Senate had sworn their loyalty to the new emperor. The remaining rebels that were present held their own but were poorly led as the ringleaders were not there to command them. Standing motionless in the cold winter, they could only watch as they slowly got outnumbered by Loyalist Troops. 9000 vs 3000 to be exact. After hours have passed, the Russian Emperor decides to end the standoff once and for all. So he orders three cannons brought to bear and fire on the Decembrists. At first they fired warning shots but the next volley of Grapeshot decimates the tightly packed rebels. Dozens go down with each shot until in a last act of desperation, the rebels break rank and reform on top of a frozen river. In an attempt to storm the city's armory. But the cannons were brought once more. This time firing on the ice to shatter it and cause hundreds to drown in the freezing water. Any survivors run for their lives.

So ends the liberal dream of Russia and a dream for the end of serfdom.

Were things a little different then perhaps they would have succeeded and had they succeeded maybe Russia might be different today. At least in theory.

OOC: I am sorry if this was a mouthful to read but I thought you would be interested in some amazing history.

Hm... we did have serfs, but, not that many of them and those few were serfs for reasons, whereas our common peasantry is relatively free and we've not even a caste system. If a peasant is gifted enough as a firebender, this one might become a venerable military officer. Also, it's not so uncommon when provincial peasant families gather resources to educate their children, so they could get higher in social hierarchy. And Zuzu made life even better for the lower class, being a populist he is...

That failed revolution you told me about... was itself a product of regime's weakness, and even brutally destroying them wasn't a sign of Empire's true strength. I think if it was timed properly and hidden for more, Decembrists could succeed. But again, this shows those were not too good as strategists, because there's a golden rule: don't play fair, strike when you are sure you've already won. As for us in Fire Nation, we always knew the art of war. No blood was spilled when I conquered Ba Sing Se, Air Nomads were eradicated before they could gather a real army and the final onslaught was calculated to be unstoppable, thanks to Sozin's comet. Joke on us, we both miscalculated, me and father(but mostly blame him), but still at least we failed to something we couldn't predict. And now, as kemurikage, I'm doing my best to show the world what the real revolution is, using my experience with care.

OOC: why yes, that's quite interesting period of history indeed =)

#kemurikage azula #fire lord azula #azula's blog #atla azula #history

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meret118 · 2 years

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One Instagram post said, "988 is not friendly. Don't call it, don't post it, don't share it, without knowing the risks." The post, which had garnered nearly a quarter of a million likes as of early August, went on to list the risks as police involvement, involuntary treatment at emergency rooms or psychiatric hospitals, and the emotional and financial toll of those experiences.

Other posts on Instagram and Twitter conveyed similar concerns, saying that the hotline sends law enforcement officers to check on people at risk of suicide without their consent and that people, especially from LGBTQ+ communities and communities of color, may be forced into treatment.

. . .

"I realize there is an urge to rescue people in crisis, but the reality is the services that exist make the problem much, much worse," said Winston, who works in mental health peer support and has started an online support group for people recovering from involuntary treatment.

Research shows suicide rates increase drastically in the months after people are discharged from psychiatric hospitals. Those who were sent involuntarily are more likely to attempt suicide than those who chose to go, and involuntary commitments can make young people less likely to disclose their suicidal feelings in the future. Some people also get stuck with large bills for treatment they didn't want.

Emily Krebs, a suicide researcher and assistant professor joining Fordham University this fall, said that involuntary treatment is viewed as a necessary part of suicide prevention in the U.S., but that other countries don't see it that way. The United Nations has called forced mental health treatment a human rights abuse and asked countries to ban it.

. . .

"Warm" lines are one option. They're typically staffed by "peers," people who have experienced mental health challenges. They focus less on crisis intervention and more on emotional support to prevent crises. You can find a directory of warm lines by state here.

Below are other hotlines and resources. This is not a comprehensive list, and some resources may limit their services geographically.

Blackline is a hotline geared toward the Black, Black LGBTQ+, brown, Native, and Muslim communities

Kiva Centers offers daily online peer support groups

M.H. First Oakland and M.H. First Sacramento operate during select weekend hours in the California cities of Oakland and SacramentoPeer Support Space hosts virtual peer support groups twice a day Monday through SaturdayProject

LETS provides support by text for urgent issues that involve involuntary hospitalization

Samaritans of New York is a hotline based in New York CityTrans Lifeline is a hotline for trans and questioning individuals

Wildflower Alliance has a peer support line and online support groups focused on suicide prevention.

Links for above in the article.

Excerpts:

The turn away from confidentiality toward surveillance and datafication has been met with widespread criticism on other fronts. Just recently, Crisis Text Line, a nonprofit SMS-based suicide prevention program, received an outpouring of outrage after users found it was profiting off the data generated by those in crisis; the Federal Communications Commission went so far as to demand Crisis Text Line cease the practice. It did so almost immediately (and now the FCC has called on the Federal Trade Commission to investigate), but Crisis Text Line remains, as so many other hotlines do, in partnership with the police. Even after the protests to defund police departments and to remove police from mental health care in summer 2020, even after the World Health Organization and U.N. Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights called for an end to forced treatment, crisis lines and police departments continue to cooperate.

We know that police violence, criminalization, and forced treatment are racialized. If historically suicidality has been understood as a white, adult, male mental state, in our contemporary moment, this is no longer the case. The fastest-growing demographic of suicidality is now Black youth ages 10 to 19, with attempts up 73 percent since 1991, while attempts among white youth declined in the same period. Meanwhile, interaction with the police while in crisis increases suicidality at the individual level and decreases trust in hotlines at the community level. Where will Black callers—and others—turn next time?

By only contracting with providers that use nonconsensual intervention, 988 guts the confidentiality that has long been a core feature of the hotline, while increasing surveillance on the most targeted and vulnerable in our communities. Not every hotline currently puts its callers at greater risk. Trans Lifeline, BlackLine, Samaritans, DASHR, MH First Oakland, and many others continue the legacy of early crisis care work, as do others not gathered under the NSPL network. They find that, for their callers to trust them and therefore receive the help they need—and only that help—the threat of nonconsensual intervention must be off the table or at least much further down the list.

#Trigger warning #Suicide #Involuntary commitment

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lutethebodies · 6 days

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LTB Worldbuilding Wednesdays: The Confederation of Veirmaark

A weekly series in which two of my BG3 Tavs describe the original homebrew 5e world they live in.

Cannor’s Guide

“Might as well begin here in Veirmaark, since I’m stuck in Seven Harbors until I can afford passage out. For better and worse, this is the most worldly place any civilized person will ever see if they venture north of the Spine. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy this city as much if not more than most I’ve visited—but Saithaaven’s seven busy ports sit between a cold lake and colder sea, and I prefer things a bit warmer. There’s an omnipresent weariness here, and though that’s understandable after so much recent turbulence, it still makes everyone a bit uneasy.”

“The Four Marches are odd in that there’s no true nucleus, at least not one a big-city southerner might recognize. Saithaaven may be the closest thing Veirmaark has to a center, but it’s technically only a provincial capital and Lord Fedor isn’t in charge of everything—at least not officially. His three nephews rule their own fiefs, and the Broken Hand priests command every Vaali soul from their fortified monastery on Verkent, the Isle of Trials. The far-flung holdfast-hamlets are half-wild with laws unto themselves, guarding against seaborne pirates, Ashland raiders or nastier things from way out on the wild moors. Beyond that, we Kalen often live around Vaali rules, and the unseen elven Vudti certainly have their own laws.”

“People here are mostly Vaali the further west you go, many counting original Marcher foot soldiers as their ancestors, just as their high lords do with the Maarker heroes. In some places you’ll hear Kalen spoken with the Old Sernian accent, wherever the original tribal bloodlines survive as modest tradesmen or peasant farmers. You’ll also hear it from outlaws hiding in the country hills and villages, or the Harbors’ seedier streets and taverns. Veirmaark is riddled with crime, because it pays well here and has ever since both Kalen and Vaali gangs pulled in big money from war profiteering and foreign influence. The lords look the other way, and either don’t touch it for fear of reprisal, or put all their dirty fingers in every dirty pie from the Soundwash to the Crownwood.”

“That ‘everyone for themselves’ feeling pervades life here, though it’s also made citizens band together however they can. Local guilds, societies, and other law-abiding orders present healthy mirror-images of the criminal gangs, but each operates with a jealous independence. Maybe that’s to be expected— this country was never really united like the other Kalen lands in the east—but I’m still not used to such superficial connections even after five years in Saithaaven, no matter how well I’m paid to sing for them. I can feel that particularly Linsmaari cool detachment seeping into me, though—from barkeeps and boatswains to ferrymen and farmers’ wives. Even Blue Chapel healers lack good bedside manners now. In the Four Marches, you either make your mark, or you become a mark.”

Ruy’s Reckoning

“The Four Marches are the center of Vaali culture in Aviridia, a culmination of migration and conquest over the past 160 years. Ruled by direct descendants of the original Vaali Marcher Lord, supported by twelve great houses, and guided by an austere but intellectual priesthood, Veirmaark may soon emerge as a truly united nation. In earlier times, the western three Marches comprised the petty, disunited Sernia-Kalen regions of Arna, Serna, and Kydna—while the fourth March of Kretta and its ancient stronghold of Scarnasa lay within the eastern Kalen High Kingdom’s protection. These days, the Sernian underclass are much more Vaali than Kalen in the west, and the countryside overall remains mostly open wilderness, with settlements strung along four great rivers flowing north to the Wild Sea from the southern Spine range. The lone exception is a more densely settled area around the old city of Scarnasa, now called Saithaaven, where wartime ethnic tensions have cooled in favor of criminal profit and commercial prosperity.”

Area: 231,371 square miles. Population: 5,784,275; about 20-40 people per square mile. Capital: Mitmaark. Main settlements: Saithaaven (Seven Harbors; small city), Kaardi (Queen’s Hill; town), Mitmaark (Mainmarch; town), Symasond (Shimmering Sound; town). Fortresses: Haandtrike (Handfast), Shensa (Spineside), Dessenka (Deepsink), Trebarra (Three Arch Bay), Saliston (Saltstone), Semarra (Southwall), Naervudti (Woodside). Rulers: The Vaali Marcher Lords. Languages: Vaali, Kalen, Erynnath. Economy: Open mercantile (with substantial smuggling), producing coal, copper, herring, iron, silver, timber, tin, wheat, and wool; trading for alum, cottons, furs, linens, paper, silks, spices, steel, sugar, and wax.

All text and imagery taken from "The Nua Gazetteer, Volume 1" by Keir DuBois (2022).

#ltb worldbuilding wednesdays #worldbuilding #5e worldbuilding #cannor the lost #ruy the reckoner #ttrpg maps #fantasy worldbuilding

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richs-japan-tabi · 10 days

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May 11 - Free Day

Today there was no planned excursion. I decided that I would wake up later than usual to try to catch up on some sleep. By the time I headed out of the hotel, it was about noon. First I went to a parfait place nearby called "Shinjuku Takano" and had a delicious strawberry cake. Afterward, I went to buy some clothes at the nearby UNIQLO and was able to get some essentials like socks and underwear. Afterward, I began my actual plans for the day by going all the way to Chiba. My search for a specific Pokemon Center brought me to an open-air retail center called LaLaport Tokyo-Bay. There I was able to find an Ampharos plushie that I had been wanting, along with a really cute Pikachu plushie. I also got to take pictures alongside many of the cool Pokemon statues around the mall and the Pokemon Center.

When I was done, I walked around the mall for a while. It had Tower Records and an arcade with my favorite game called "MaiMai". It is a game where circles come to the edge of the screen and you need to press the right button when it is done approaching. It sounds simple but it can get really difficult at higher levels. I played that for a little while and then headed over to my next destination, Ohi Shrine.

Ohi Shrine is a Shinto shrine dedicated to the sun goddess, Amaterasu. I didn't know much about this shrine before I went, but I wanted an excuse to look around Funabashi. This shrine was interesting as it not only contained several auxiliary shrines but was also far less busy than any of the shrines we have visited so far. I also learned a lot about the rich history of this shrine, which I would've never learned had I not come to this mall in Chiba. The shrine is the oldest in Funabashi and was said to be founded by a legendary hero. The main shrine was destroyed in 1868, but they rebuilt it in 1873, and remains to be the largest shrine in Funabashi to this day. [1] For some reason, I wasn't in a great mood this morning and early afternoon. However, after visiting the shrine and walking around the small neighborhood for a while, I felt relaxed and cheerful. I enjoyed just exploring the area, even if it was mostly uneventful.

After the shrine, I was going to head back to the station back home when I stumbled across a gigantic IKEA. I decided to have dinner there, as the food would be a change of pace from what I have had the past week. I got the classic Swedish meatballs which tasted the same as the ones in the United States.

[1] Scally, Elizabeth. “Ohi Shrine.” Japan Travel, August 11, 2021. https://en.japantravel.com/chiba/ohi-shrine-funabashi-daijingu/67567.

#tokyo

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jamisoncrockett91 · 1 month

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Wedding Photographer - One Step By Step Guide A Clean Budget

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