#i think the underworld may be a constant but less in a this is specifically hades and just like some entity of death and his cool as fuck

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Bloodsuckers

These fusion monsters act so much in-line with real vampires that no one even bothered to add much to their description, simply noting that “you’ve heard the legends” and you can’t say that you “haven’t been warned.” Copying the species among the Underworlders that frequently explore Endsville, they’ve resurrected the classical monster much to the fear of a wider scope of people. 

Since the Bloodsuckers have no legs, they can’t land on the ground to attack like a vampire bat would.  Instead, they attack from the air, summoning globs of fusion matter into their hands and launching them at enemies.  Only in rare cases, such as when they feel they have the element of surprise, or after a target is severely weakened will they pounce to bite.  This is because they aren’t much stronger than humans physically due to a low muscle mass.  They may look powerful, but it’s mainly the robes/wing-like arms giving them a bulkier look. Still, if they do latch onto you, they can be hard to shake off if their sharp claws hook into you.  

The Bloodsuckers are highly intelligent, often using the darkness to their advantage to try to sneak attack their victims. They know how to chase people into corners and use fear to throw them off in a fight. If you have been warned about these fusion monsters lurking in an area, always pay attention to the shadows around you. 

The bats that swarm around them aren’t the real animals, but rather an extension of the Bloodsuckers themselves.  This follows the similar ability seen across various media with vampires and is confirmed in concept art, the latter explaining that the bats come from the cloak and showing one of them radiated with the green glow of fusion matter.  While the fusion bats can’t fly too far from their host, this gives them a heightened awareness of their surroundings. 

This can actually be a danger to real bats as much as fusion fighters, as they are social animals. If they do not immediately recognize that the fusion bats aren’t a part of their colonies, or if they try to fight them thinking that they’re rivals, they can put themselves in harms way.     

In the mission “Blood Feud,” we’re ordered by Father to fight Bloodsuckers to test whether or not they’re more aggressive toward children. According to Mojo, this was likely just to put us in harm’s way, as more of a test on us than on the fusion monsters. While I do think this is highly likely, I do also see an edge of truth to that theory... if not in the way Father meant.  I don’t think the Bloodsuckers or similar, spooky fusion monsters would target kids specifically, but that kids would naturally be more prone to fearing them because they are based on classical monsters that they’d think were scary while many adults would grow out of fearing/believing in them. Outside of Endsville’s constant experience with the supernatural, most of their looks and habits would seem corny or superficial to most people. They’d look at such fusion monsters as Halloween knock-offs and therefore be less likely to take them seriously.  This can work both for and against the monsters’ favor. While some might fear them too much, others will brutishly target them as a recognizable threat. Meanwhile, those who dismiss them as hokey may act calmer in battle, but are also more likely to underestimate the monsters.

In the events of “Wish Upon a Weirdo,” Billy has us get him some garlic to protect himself from the Bloodsuckers. Despite this, however, it’s more likely that Billy was wrong to assume this would work since the Bloodsuckers aren’t actual vampires.  The same would go for anything else that is a typical weakness of theirs.  Whether or not the Bloodsuckers would have a natural fear of things such as garlic based on mimicked instincts though is a matter of study.  For example, fusion monsters have no weakness to sunlight, but the Bloodsuckers nevertheless tend to avoid it and are much more active on gloomy days or at night. When a Bloodsucker isn’t active, they can often be found hiding in crypts or other buildings found in/near graveyards.    

The Bloodsuckers have two stronger evolutions, the Batty and Baron Bloodsucker.  As noted in their description, the Batty Bloodsuckers’ behavior is more bat than human-like, giving them a less intelligent and far more animalistic nature. Meanwhile, the Baron Bloodsuckers are the most powerful of their kind, described as “the king of the night sky.”

Dracula is very offended by these fusion monsters for not just copying themselves off vampires, but doing so and then forgetting to scrape and lick. 

#fusionfall #headcanons #fusion monsters #bloodsuckers #batty bloodsuckers #baron bloodsuckers #video games

[the-hydrangea-witch]

People of the Other World (not the various cultures yet because i havent Gotten Into That Yet gimme a minute this is just about the various Races TM)

so i guess i should preface that i think i forgot to mention that the Other World is in very Basic Terms because honestly im not even certain of this originally made up of like. fairy tales and stories told by people on Earth like the moment the first stories were ever told, and over time it became more separated to where now its really hard to say with your full chest that the entirety of the Other World is just a byproduct of Earth because it definitely did evolve on its own

Majority People: anyways yeah so the majority of Average People native to the Other World could be considered elves but idk im kinda wary of using that specific term for Reasons. So yes they all have the classic pointed ears, but a more recent adaptation is they all have pupils similar to cats due to the constant intense sunlight during the summer and the winters being totally in darkness, so they pretty much all have night vision. Every other race native to the Overworld is basically seen as just a little quirk of the rest of mankind, like being albino or being born without a limb.

God-Touched: Some people are believed to be descended from either the first followers of certain deities, their priests, or the gods themselves (depends on interpretation, no one is really certain). You can usually pick them out from a crowd from their animalistic ears, or sometimes they have tails, odd skin that may have patches of fur/feathers/scales, strange eyes, teeth, etc. A lot of people seem to think that God-Touched people act like the animal they share traits with or have enhanced physical capabilities, but for the most part that's just a stereotype and the outliers that people claim to be "proof" really only have personalities commonly associated with said animal, like Serra Mun, who yes is just a catboy dont JUDGE ME HES MY SON HDKDFDSKJ. The only thing people are unanimous about is that the gods they are supposedly related to are from the Underworld and not the Yonderworld, because only Underworld gods have animal symbols while Yonderworld gods are more associated with fungi. Humans from Earth sometimes call them Kemonimimi (OR CATBOYS/NEKOS IF THEYRE TRYING TO ANNOY SERRA IN PARTICULAR IM LOOKING AT YOU HEATHER)

God-Abandoned: Not every animal has a living god associated with them. Like God-Touched people, God-Abandoned people sometimes have various animalistic traits, but these people don't have them constantly like God-Touched, and they don't have the signature ears and tail that most God-Touched have. Humans from Earth would likely call them were-people because of the way they (albeit horrifically and probably painfully) grow fur/feathers/scales and seem to lose some sense of their humanity. Most Earth humans would also assume this change happens during all of winter because of the presence of the moon, but it actually occurs randomly (or at least, researchers have yet to find a pattern if there is one) and for much shorter periods of time, typically only a couple hours, or very rarely up to weeks at a time.

Marionettes: On rare occasions, people of the Other World discover ways to merge science and magic in immaculate ways, such as the development of artificial body transplants. It's a very rare procedure with a couple various reasons for getting one but is illegal to be used for purely aesthetic purposes. Marionettes have wooden bodies that otherwise are more or less identical to normal fleshy bodies. Most often Marionettes are the result of life-threatening ailments that cannot be treated or accommodated by other means, which are incredibly rare. Sometimes, Marionettes have somewhat of an advantage over other people due to not having human organs, such as Professor Edith Dire, also known as the Foxglove Witch, who can use foxglove flowers in her magical cooking that most other people cannot digest without Dire consequences ill see myself out. While there are many people in the Other World with artificial limbs and other body parts, they don't consider themselves Marionettes because it involves one's entire body, inside and outside, being turned to wood through a specific procedure.

Cryptids: These are people believed to be inhuman in some way due to superstitions usually based on false knowledge of magic or souls. One of the more well-known cryptids is Vampires, who are people believed to have somehow stolen a symbol before it could be absorbed back into nature or separated from someone's soul after death, especially during their descent to the Overworld from the Yonderworld as a fresh soul. Most younger people don't really believe in Vampires, but only because they think it's physically impossible for the timelines of death and birth to line up in the first place. Bela True, the Wisteria Witch, is someone who has been occasionally accused of vampirism because they were born "too soon" after the previous Wisteria Witch, who was a very influential magic user in their life, died. Luckily, most people don't even know their symbol until adulthood, so it was very few people who put the timelines together until word spread oh no, but don't worry I dealt with them, and since vampirism was such a rare thing to accuse someone of nowadays, Bela just kinda laughed it off and leaned into it a little to freak them out. Love that little weirdo.

Residuals: When the average person dies, their soul doesn't linger around for very long because they lack ties to magic that would bind them to the Overworld. When a witch dies, they stick around much longer on average, and can usually still interact with the living in limited ways. theyre just ghosts thats it :)

Stitched Souls: Mr. Estrella I already told you Stitched Magic doesn't exist, why do you keep insisting upon it? I brought you here from Earth so I could gain an outside perspective on what I need to teach newcomers about this world, not to make up conspiracy theories.

#creative writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing community #writing #writers on tumblr #fantasy #worldbuilding

[angel-archivist]

I have so many questions about how you would retell the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, but I fear I will derail the conversion so I will merely ask this: Would you give Orpheus the happy ending we all want him to have with a sweet and sappy reunion between two dead lovers spurred on by the chill king of the underworld and his pretty badass wife?

UR NOT DERAILING AT ALL, I wanna talk about the THOUGHTS i HAVE and i have so SO SO MANY Y... So i will give you all my very basic outlines of thoughts... First im debating making the relationship a strong platonic love and like a friendship and care!!! and Orpheus and Eurydice's met when he was trying 2 start a band or whatever it didnt go anywhere but they started writing each others songs and they both had a really important favorite song that they had written together and yah yeah!!!!!!!! 

But after there lil band went nowhere Orpheus and Eurydice's were still close and stuff, but then he started expanding his interest in different monsters, gods whatever trying to cataloguing and creating a record of them, Eurydice's was like: hey no. do not go and try to get yourself killed like that, eventually this leads to Orpheus needing to be saved BY her and that leads to a big argument where she tries to get him to stop running around he refuses to listen 2 her and she leaves, and then she ‘vanishes’ (there was some kind of car accident is what Orpheus is told its unclear what really happened) 

but yeah :’]] then enter random dude whos been having like dreams about the underworld, and Orpheus and Eurydice's and hes able to track down Orpheus’s place and hes like: hey bestie can you please stop appearing in my dreamss tyyy <3 and Orpheus is like: go back did u say underworld. then road trip time or something where Orpheus lead by this the dude. When they finally get to the entrance of the underworld (with a few other new besties or whatever) they all get separated cuz 🙄i dunno ig facing off a god of the undead alone is pretty cool and hes like: hey dude can you please give me my friend back </3 

But im pretty sure that i WILL reunite the friends/ lovers (potentially) and stuff BUT like at a cost or something bc greek tragedy or something 

#mom says its my turn to retell the greek myth of orpheus #they wont be called orpheus or eurydices its a VERY loose retelling #like the worldbuilding is probably going to be very different #i think the underworld may be a constant but less in a this is specifically hades and just like some entity of death and his cool as fuck #wife

[thebiasrekkers]

Amaryllis: The Past || JHS

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: The year is 1170 AD in the kingdom of Goryeo. Nestled in a quiet corner of their world, two people are drawn together and love blossoms in their hearts. However, as tensions begin to rise between their nations, they are unwillingly pulled into the conflict. Their determination to overcome all odds becomes the nail needed for Fate to hammer into their coffins.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: historical!au | period!au | soulmate!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Female OC (Bayaraa Ehri)

Warnings: Mild language, extreme angst, major character deaths

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 13.4K

AN: Guys, when I tell you that I wasn't ready for this to be as big of a monster as I thought it would be, I was not prepared. At all. Period. This is the first Period/Historical!AU I've written in a while and definitely a first for BTS. I've always been a sucker for reincarnation stories and so laying the groundwork for this made me really happy. This is a tragic love story, but I promise that it will be better in the second part I plan on releasing next month! Enjoy and remember that you are loved!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Goryeo Kingdom 1170 AD

The noise of the marketplace seemed to erupt in mixed sounds of pleasantries and laughter. There was a constant tone flitting in and out; the sound of laughter and of so many market vendors talking at once. They were all trying to get people to look at their wares, to purchase them and make new deals. Hoseok smiled as he strolled through the streets, dodging oncoming children squealing in delight as they ran past the adults. The silk fabric of his robs clung to his figure, his lute bouncing lightly across his back and his satchel hung from his side.

To others, he appeared as nothing more than a traveling minstrel. But the truth of the matter was that he came from an upstanding noble family that was directly connected to the royal bloodline in the Goryeo Kingdom. He didn't like to make a fuss about it and neither did his brothers. Their father was blessed to have seven sons and Hoseok was the third-born son, granting him a little bit more freedom than his two older brothers. He had less responsibilities.

Hence why he was strolling around in the general public in his incognito garbs, masquerading as a traveling performing artist and poet.

"Sir," called a vendor, attempting to garner Hoseok's attention, "you look like a man who believes in good fortune!"

Hoseok paused, craning his neck to look at the man who had a variety of items spread out over his table. Nothing seemed to stick out and he wondered what any of his items had to do with good fortune. Just as he was about to ask, the man reached behind the table and lifted up a small, lacquered box from underneath. The design was exquisite, boasting a unique hand-craftsmanship with the various floral patterns cut from Mother of Pearl shells. Hoseok raised his brows, curious to see what could be inside of such a lovely chest.

When the man opened the box, he revealed a flower forged in metal. It sat on a cushion of black satin, but the flower itself almost seemed to gleam in the afternoon sunlight. It's stem was long, the leaves taking on a soft shine as it curled around the base of the flower. At the top, the petals were long and spindly, resembling a spider lily.

No. It was a spider lily.

Some artisan actually forged a spider lily.

Hoseok's lips parted as he reached his hand toward the flower. "It's beautiful," he whispered. But just before his fingers could brush against the metallic leaves, the vendor quickly closed the lid of the box, causing a frown to form on Hoseok's face. "How much?"

The market vendor was unable to hide his amusement as he waggled a finger at him. "Now now, My Lord, I must insist that you listen to the good fortune that comes with purchasing this flower. The artist who made this said the explanation is a must to anyone who wishes to have this flower in their possession."

Sighing, Hoseok brushed some of his bangs out of his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "Very well. Go ahead."

The vendor smiled, clapped his hands together rapidly, and then slowly opened the box to reveal the flower. "Do you know the legend behind the Spider Lily, My Lord?"

Smothering down his own amusement, Hoseok shook his head. Of course he knew the legend of the Spider Lily. It was a tale forged in sorrow about two lovers who neglected their duties to watch over the petals and leaves. The Gods punished them and they promised to find one another again in the Underworld. However, they were unable to do so, hence they could not be reunited in the next life when they were reincarnated.

"I find it hard to believe that you don't," teased the vendor, which caused Hoseok to cant his head slightly, "but let's just say that this flower isn't an ordinary spider lily. The one who forged this flower said that the tragedy still exists inside, just as the legend dictates. But unlike Manju and Saka, the one who holds this flower will be able to reunite with their loved one in the next life. Guaranteed."

Hoseok couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips. "How can the artisan possibly guarantee something like that? Was it the Jade Emperor who forged this flower? Is he an ethereal being who is going to be able to follow my spirit into the Underworld and ensure that I do not drink from the Spring of Forgetfulness so that I can, in fact, remember the face of the one I love in my next life?"

The vendor appeared perturbed by the onslaught of questions being thrown at him. But he seemed to collect himself well enough to puff his chest out and cleared his throat loudly. "W-Well, I'm just relaying the words to you as the artisan wished. If you do not want to purchase this rare item, then I will simply put it away."

As the man moved to close the box, Hoseok reached out to place his hand over the vendor's. He hesitated and Hoseok smiled warmly at him. "I apologize. I did not mean to offend, Good Sir. I'm a skeptic by nature, I'm afraid, and I let my lips run away before I could catch them." Again, the vendor cleared his throat, but he seemed less offended than earlier. "Regardless of the artisan's intent, this flower truly is beautiful. The story behind the spider lily is a sad one, but looking at this, I can tell they created this from love."

He could practically feel the vendor beaming at him. "Would you like to purchase it, My Lord?"

Hoseok smiled, reaching into his coin purse, and pulled out three gold coins. "Will this be enough?"

The vendor gasped. "T-That's more than the artisan asked for!"

Grinning, he pulled out another coin to add to the three. "Then I insist that you give him two and you keep the other two for your troubles."

Taking the coins from him, the vendor wasted no time wrapping the lacquered box up in a silk cloth. The vendor hurriedly handed the wrapped item to Hoseok, beaming wildly at the amazing exchange he’d just made. Hoseok wasn’t sure why he seemed so happy since he didn’t regret handing off the gold.

He only hoped that the vendor was honest and didn’t keep all four coins for himself.

“Lad-I mean, L-Lord Ehri!” A young attendant ran with her skirts hiked up as far as she could manage as she tore through the busy market streets. “My Lord, please wait!”

Erhi evaded her attendant, doing her best to smother her feminine sounding laugh as she hurried through the crowd. She was dressed in her incognito outfit, a young male warrior specifically. It was mostly so she could maneuver without any people questioning her reason for being there as a foreigner. Her father, a noble and wealthy merchant from the Mongols, was currently on a business venture in Goryeo. While her older sisters were obediently at his side, learning the proper etiquette for business, Erhi was left to her own devices.

For better or worse, she was allowed to roam the city streets of the kingdom so long as her attendant was with her and she stayed out of trouble. Erhi agreed to her father’s demands, but only to his face. She was positive that her parents knew of her outlandish behavior that strayed far from the proper lady fashion, but because she was the youngest, she was able to get away with it to a degree.

Her father was a businessman, after all. If she wanted to do something, there had to be a give and take deal. She was allowed to learn swordsmanship as long as she studied sewing. She could ride a horse if she practiced dancing. And she could train with the merchant troupe’s regiment if she could brew a proper pot of tea and serve it just as eloquently.

In that aspect, Erhi liked to think she was better off than her sisters. But mostly because they, themselves, had no interest in the things men liked to do. Especially since both were already promised to suitors. Erhi was too gruff to appeal to any male in her father’s circles and she preferred it that way.

Hence the reason she was running through the streets of a foreign city like a child.

She did her best to dodge the innocent bystanders on the street, twirling on her heels to avoid colliding into them needlessly. However, she hadn’t anticipated a group of children squealing through the crowd simultaneously. Ehri jumped suddenly, fully clearing the children as they stopped to stare off at the tails of her robes fluttering behind her. Focused on their awestruck faces, she failed to pay attention to what was ahead of her.

And what was in front of her was an unsuspecting young man carrying something wrapped in silk in his arms. She only managed to catch a glimpse of his surprised face and the lute strapped to his back before their bodies collided against one another; hard. There was a distinct crunch sound that seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body as the wind was knocked from her lungs. Coughing out the dirt that managed to spray up from the ground and into her nose, she heard the man groaning from underneath her. 

Gasping, Erhi quickly scrambled off the man and saw his face screwed up in pain. She immediately reached out for him, her hands grasping at his shoulders to help him sit up. “I’m so sorry,” she said, dusting off his silk robes, “I should have been paying attention, Naeuri.”

The young man grunted, coughing as he attempted to straighten the front of his robe. “It's fine. No harm done.” He extended his arms and shook the sleeves of his garbs back and forth while smiling. “See?”

Erhi flushed, embarrassed she’d lost her sense of awareness for even a moment and caused an innocent bystander to be caught up in her mess. She got to her feet, helping him up to where he continued to pat off the dirt from his clothes. Just as she was about to ask if he was alright, the true shame in her actions began to set in. Because there, at their feet, was what remained of his lute. Even the silken cloth wrapped around his parcel came loose, tilting sadly to showcase that whatever was inside was damaged as well. 

Suddenly, her attendant burst through the crowd looking haggard and annoyed. When she finally flattened her skirts down, she met Erhi’s gaze and stopped short before her rant could even start. Erhi quickly shook her head back and forth, silently urging her to pretend that she didn’t know her. Her attendant sighed, approaching the both of them as though she were a curious civilian wanting to make sure the two of them were alright.

“You’re both not hurt, are you, My Lords?” 

Erhi inwardly sighed with relief, gesturing to the young man at her side. “I’m fine.” She turned to look at the stranger. “I believe I’ve damaged your belongings. Please allow me to make amends by paying you for what the items were worth.”

The man smiled, shaking his head as he waved his hands back and forth. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. Truly.” He peered at Ehri closely, causing her to flush slightly. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She bowed, her hair falling to curtain her face. “Yes, thank you.”

Erhi watched the man pick up his broken lute and ruined parcel. But he seemed unaffected by it. This made the guilt fall heavier on her heart and just as she was about to insist that she be allowed to make amends, he stepped toward her. They were just inches away from each other, causing her to gasp slightly while taking a step backward. 

“Shall we have a cup of tea to commemorate this occasion?”

Blinking rapidly at him, the young man smiled almost mischievously at Ehri. Then he leaned forward, his lips just barely brushing up against the shell of her ear.

“I would offer to share a drink, but inviting a woman to indulge in alcohol in the middle of the day  would seem a bit presumptuous and rude, yes?”

If Ehri was flushing a soft pink earlier, she was a full blown shade of scarlet at that exact moment. Craning her neck to look at him, she felt her lips parting in both shock and outrage as he continued to preen at her. When had he been able to see through her disguise? How could he have discovered the truth in such a short amount of time.

The snap of a fan brought her out of her internal reverie and she hopped back a full two feet from him as he slowly moved the fan back and forth across his body. He wasn’t being smug about it. She could tell that he was genuinely amused. And this, alone, piqued her curiosity.

Frowning, she huffed before giving an overly dramatic flourish of her arm as she stepped to the side. “After you, Naeuri,” she said through clenched teeth, “I insist.”

The playful twinkle never left his eyes and he merely strolled past her, snapping the fan closed as he pointed toward the direction straight ahead. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

Ehri caught her attendant’s eye and they both sighed in defeat, their legs feeling much heavier than they had just a few minutes ago.

This was problematic.

“I see,” Hoseok said in mid-sip, “so you’re from Mongolia.” He nodded, watching the two women seated across from him shifting uncomfortably in front of him. “That’s very interesting!”

The woman frowned as she sipped her tea while her attendant nervously cradled the porcelain between her fingers. Hoseok did his best to keep from bursting into small fits of laughter, but it was a very trying task. Especially since the woman who collided into him seemed hellbent on trying to find every opportunity to escape from his sight. 

Like he’d let that happen.

“I must admit, you caught me by surprise.” He smiled as her brows furrowed. “To think a young woman could tear through the streets in such a fashion. Normally it’s young boys with that sort of amount of energy.”

The woman huffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “Why is that so surprising? I heard the women of Goryeo have just as much freedom as the men do.”

He nodded, lifting the cup of tea to his face. “Yes, they do. Which is why they don’t have to disguise themselves as men as you have.” She scoffed, her eyes shifting to meet his own as they widened slightly. “Do Mongolian women not have such free reign?”

“That’s not--!”

Hoseok leaned forward, intrigued and unable to hide his own curiosity. He knew he probably looked like a starry-eyed little boy, but he couldn’t hold back his fascination. As a member of the royal household’s branch family, Hoseok had little chances to interact with other foreigners unless he snuck away from home in the same way this young woman did. In a sense, they were both having similar experiences but for very different reasons.

“I heard that Mongolian children are able to ride horses before they even learn how to walk! Is that true?” She just stared at him, blinking every so often, and he leaned back quickly as while shaking his head back and forth. “Oh my, I’ve been so rude! Please forgive me. I never even introduced myself.” Hoseok bowed his head slightly. “My name is Hoseok. And you?”

There was a small measure of silence that stretched between them before she lifted her own teacup to her lips. 

“Ehri.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning back a bit, “Ehri-ssi.”

Hoseok watched her sip from her cup. He took note of how delicate her hands appeared. As she set it down, he focused back on her face. Their eyes stayed trained on each other before Ehri shifted her gaze to his belongings that were beside him on the bench. 

“I was serious about repaying you for your things, Hoseok Naeuri.”

He laughed. “That’s not necessary. My lute has seen better days, of course, but I was already planning on buying a new one.”

She lofted a single brow. “And your other item?”

“Not to worry. Only the box was ruined, but not completely. The item inside is perfectly fine.”

He visibly saw her shoulders relax, as well as her attendant’s. 

“How did you know?”

Hoseok was about to indulge in one of the sweet rice cakes when he stopped, his hand hovering over the plate. “Hm? Know what?”

"That I wasn’t a man.”

Her tone was so flat that it caused him to sputter a chuckle unintentionally.

He picked up one of the soft rice cakes while shrugging one shoulder. “Well, it wasn’t hard considering you fell on top of me chest first.” Hoseok watched her nose crinkle up and he bit his lip, smothering a grin from breaking out over his features. “And the fact that your attendant is a woman and a terrible actress.”

Ehri’s attendant groaned in defeat while she, in turn, merely huffed her annoyance. Hoseok was amused with how expressive she was. It was charming in a way. Not many women, even in Goryeo, openly wore their feelings on their sleeves as she did. Even though she was traveling incognito with her attendant, she had no problem expressing her emotions freely. 

He found himself drawn to her level of freedom.

“How long will your family be in Goryeo?” he asked, biting into the rice cake and savoring the sweet red bean jam inside.

She picked up a rice cake, offering it to her attendant first. “Until my father’s business deals are finished.”

“Does it usually take a long time?”

“No, not usually,” Ehri said as she began pouring herself more tea, “but because it’s Goryeo, he tends to make time to stay and enjoy the scenery. I’m sure we will be here a month or so, at the very least.”

“I see.” Hoseok slapped his hands on the table and leaned forward, causing the two women to jump suddenly. “Then we should see each other again!”

“W-What?” Erhi balked, leaning backward as he continued to press his body almost completely across the table. “What do you mean?”

“It's not often you get to come to Goryeo, yes?” Hoseok watched her nod slowly, waiting for him to continue. “Then allow me to show you all the great things this country has to offer! In exchange, you have to share all the wonderful stories of your homeland.”

She seemed skeptical. “Just stories?”

Hoseok nodded excitedly. “Yes, until I am able to travel to Mongolia myself and then you’ll have to take care of me while I’m there.” He extended his hand out to her. “Do we have a deal?”

Ehri appeared to be considering his offer. There was nothing for her to lose. She only had things to gain and he, too, would obtain something as well.

Maybe he would be able to have a friend who didn’t care about his connection to the royal family.

Sighing, she reached across the table to clasp her hand in his. Ehri smiled and Hoseok felt his heart skip a full beat in his chest. “Deal.”

The days bled into weeks. Before Ehri even realized it, nearly a month had passed. With each passing day, Hoseok was true to his word. They agreed to meet near the edge of the capital city where the rolling hills, forests, and meadows were located. Her attendant rode beside them and they let their horses graze in the fields. 

Hoseok shared wondrous stories of Goryeo’s history, art, and architecture. Being a Mongol, all Ehri knew were wide open plains, valleys, mountains, rivers and deserts. There were very few forests in her homeland and the flowers were even fewer, so these stories fascinated her. Hoseok had an attendant, just as Ehri, but he rarely accompanied him as often as hers did. If he were part of some aristocratic family, she couldn’t imagine him being able to wander about without an escort at all times.

But maybe she was reading too much into it.

In time, she truly got to know the man named Hoseok. Neither of them revealed their family names, which was probably for the best. There was no guarantee that they would see each other after her family returned home to Mongolia. But the few things she did discover were like small treasures she kept to herself.

His favorite colors were silver, white and cobalt. From what she was able to glean, it had something to do with being able to gain a sense of individualism among his other brothers in their household. He rarely wore his hair down, preferring to have it pulled up in a high ponytail, though he could do nothing with the fringe that often fell across his forehead.

Hoseok had a seemingly bottomless sweet tooth; his preference for rice cakes filled with some kind of sweet jam. He loved foreign goods and would always take time to see any traveling street performances during festival times. Poetry and philosophy were his preferred subjects, but he did excel in mathematics and history. 

Her attendant started to doze off as she sat under the shade of a nearby dogwood tree. The white petals fluttered through the air from the soft breeze that flew through the field. A quiet melody emanated from Hoseok’s lute as he strummed his fingers over the strings. Ehri was nestled in a bed of flowers, her legs curled up to her chest as she listened to the music. She couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips while watching him. His eyes were closed and every so often, some of his dark hair would fly over the bridge of his nose as he played.

To Ehri, he was unnecessarily handsome.

“Are you tired, Agassi?”

Blinking rapidly, Ehri lifted her head up from her knees. When she did, she saw that Hoseok was extremely close to her. Her lips parted and she leaned back quickly, gasping a little as he blinked curiously at her. 

“W-What?” she stammered out, feeling the heat rushing up her neck and spreading over her cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

He was crouched down on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. But he didn’t move any closer to her, to which she was secretly grateful. “I was asking if you were tired.”

“Oh,” Ehri murmured, brushing some of her hair out of her face, “I’m fine.”

She leaned her head back as he stood up and dusted off the backs of his robes. Once finished, he reached a hand out to her. Not wanting to appear frail, Ehri gathered herself up and also knocked some grass and leaves off her clothes. Hoseok smiled as he gestured for her to follow him. Glancing to where her attendant was now fully asleep with the horses nearby, she shook her head and followed behind Hoseok as they moved deeper into the forest. 

When they entered a nearby clearing, Ehri paused while Hoseok continued to walk ahead of her. The vision that was in front of her caused her to pull a slow intake of breath. The field was littered with spindly, vibrant red flowers that seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see. There was a sense of melancholy that nearly overwhelmed Ehri as she stared at the flowers, but she couldn’t understand why she felt that way.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

Hoseok’s words cut through her reverie and she lifted her gaze to meet his own. He was standing in the middle of the flowers, imploring for her to come closer. Ehri took slow, measured steps toward him, unable to take her eyes away from the flowers as she approached. When she was within arms’ reach of him, her attention was ripped from the red field as she felt Hoseok’s hands gripping onto her wrists. With a jerk of his arms, she was pulled forward and nearly bumped into his body, to which she was stopped short; his hands now gripping her shoulders.

“N-Naeuri?” 

“The Spider Lily legend,” he repeated slowly, tilting his chin down to look at her, “have you heard of it?”

Ehri wasn’t sure what to say so all she did was shake her head. Even though Hoseok smiled, there was an intensity in his eyes that pulled at her curiosity. So focused on his face, she failed to realize that his hands moved from her shoulders and down to her hips. Again, she chose to wear her incognito robes, which meant that every touch was that much closer to her body than it would have been had she decided to don her proper feminine attire. 

Straining her ears, Ehri waited for him to continue and hoped she could hear him over the heavy thud of her own heartbeat. 

After looking down at her for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time, Hoseok craned his neck to look at their surroundings. Ehri did the same. 

“There was once a pair of fae, Manju and Saka, who were given the responsibility of guarding the leaves and petals of the Spider Lily. If the petals blossomed to their fullest, the leaves would die. If the leaves flourished, the petals would wilt. For a time, they were diligent in their duties.” Something flickered in Hoseok’s eyes, but she couldn’t quite tell since she could only see part of his profile. “The affection they had for one another continued to grow, until they could no longer deny their feelings for each other. They decided to meet, forsaking their duties, and both the petals and leaves began to die. The Gods punished the lovers by placing a curse on them, stating that the flowers and leaves will never be able to meet again.”

Ehri lowered her gaze to the red blossoms, wanting to reach out and caress the petals but knowing that the leaves deserved attention as well. Upon closer inspection, she could see the leaves were so far below the flowers, melding with the grass at their feet and almost disappearing. The stem was long, keeping the petals and leaves as far apart from each other as was possible for the flower.

“To make matters worse, the curse extends beyond death.”

She turned to face Hoseok who was now looking back at her. “What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brows slightly. “The two of them promised they would reunite in the Underworld so when they were reborn, they would be able to find each other again. But they were never able to meet and, as such, they were unable to be together upon reincarnation.”

Something painful throbbed inside of Ehri’s chest, causing her to curl her hand into a fist against the fabric of her robes. “That’s...that’s so sad.”

“It is.” When Ehri met Hoseok’s gaze, she could see a hint of a smile on his face. “Well, if you believe in the concept of rebirth.”

“I do.” She sighed, moving her upper body away from him a bit. “I don’t believe that the gods are so cruel to give us a short amount of time to live only to allow us to experience one life. The souls of our ancestors live within us.”

For a moment, all Ehri could do was stare up at Hoseok with what she hoped was a look of absolute determination. He didn’t give anything away. Not a single thing.

Which was what made the kiss he pulled her into all the more surprising. Her hands immediately moved to press against his chest, intent on pushing him away; at least at first. But the warmth of his hands as he clasped at the nape of her neck and how hard his heart seemed to be beating against his chest, made her own initial anxieties melt away. He was nothing but a complete gentleman all that time, and in truth, it tugged at the softer side of her normally wild nature. The more Ehri got to know him, a being so full of buried melancholy, the more drawn to him she felt.

When had it happened? When did she feel her heart starting to gravitate toward him?

When had he?

Delicate nips pulled at her lips, causing Ehri to release a soft sigh from her lungs. It was like Hoseok was attempting to pull her soul straight from her and, if it were possible, she would have given it over willingly. Her body shifted a little more against him and she wasn’t sure how much more of his affections she could handle. 

It became more apparent when tears unknowingly leaked from her eyes.

Hoseok’s lips left her own and a part of Ehri mourned for his absence. She didn’t realize the moment she’d pressed herself fully against him, but it made it that much harder to breathe. Or was it because he’d successfully pulled all the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless and yearning for more?

“Do you have to go?” The strain in his voice was clear, needling into her heart as he began drying her tears from her face. “I don’t want you to go.”

Ehri bit her lower lip, unable to break his gaze. “I have to,” she whispered, “my family…”

Suddenly, Hoseok pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her as he cradled the back of her head in a passionate embrace. Clouds slowly rolled in, covering the sun and momentarily shrouding them in desaturated light. Ehri felt his body trembling against her, which made her heart thud harder against her chest to the point that it hurt to breathe. 

“Promise you’ll write to me,” he said into her temple.

Reaching up, she curled her fingers into fists along his back, nodding her head emphatically. “I will.”

Hoseok held her tighter, causing her to sob slightly. “Promise you won’t forget me.”

Again, she nodded, unable to keep the tears from spilling. “I won’t.”

Slowly, he pulled back and captured her lips again. Ehri could feel her heart sing with the emotion that pushed from each of them. He held her like she was the greatest treasure he’d discovered. But they both knew that they would have to part. It would only be for a little while. Their worlds weren’t so far apart. They could see each other again.

That was their hope.

That was their dream.

“Hoseok-ah! What are you doing?”

He ignored the question tinged with outrage as he continued to pack his belongings. He took care to make sure one parcel, in particular, was stowed away where it could not be damaged. He didn’t need much. Whatever he did need, he could simply purchase along the way. 

His attendant stood quietly in the corner of his room, his own gear packed and slung across his shoulder. Hoseok knew he wouldn’t speak up. It wasn’t his place. He’d already been given his commands to accompany him and that was that.

“I asked you what you are doing, dammit!” He felt his brother, Yoongi, grip onto his shoulder and forcefully spin him around. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“Mongolia.” He roughly shrugged Yoongi’s hand from him. “Could you please leave? I’m trying to finish packing.”

Yoongi jerked him around and slapped him across the face. The sting of the blow inflamed instantly and he didn’t even bother with covering his cheek with his palm to soothe the ache. Red veins spidered out toward Yoongi’s irises. That’s how Hoseok knew that his brother was angry with him for being so selfish. It was rare for him to be this selfish, but that meant it was more important for him to leave now more than ever. 

“Do you want to get yourself killed, huh?” Yoongi heaved an aggravated sound as he roughly tugged at some of his hair. “Our countries are about to go to war soon!”

“You think I don’t know that, Hyung-nim?! I do!” Hoseok’s vision shook as he tried to tether his anger. He knew he was failing. “I know that, which is why I have to go! Let me go, Hyung-nim!”

His brother’s face went red, then faded to a splotchy sort of peach color. Hoseok knew he’d successfully defused Yoongi’s anger, but it was far from over. If their parents found out, or even the rest of his brothers, Hoseok could guarantee that there would be no escape for him. He would be placed  under house arrest faster than his mind could even begin to process. 

Even so, he had to go. 

He had to find her. He needed to see her again.

The door to his room slid open slowly, revealing his oldest brother, Seokjin, on the other side. Dressed in his crimson and silver robes, he stepped across the threshold and slid the door quietly behind him. His hands were hidden inside the sleeves of his robe, but then he revealed a scroll from within. He held it out to Hoseok as Yoongi approached their older brother.

“Hyung-nim,” Yoongi said while eyeing the scroll, “what is the meaning of this?”

“It’s an official edict from His Majesty on our father’s behalf. Father has taken ill and will not be able to conduct his business trip.” Seokjin craned his neck to look at Hoseok. “This will allow you safe passage across the border.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “S-Seokjin Hyung-nim…”

A tender smile graced Seokjin’s full lips. “Father is aware of why you are so adamant on leaving. As are we all.” He lobbed the scroll to his younger brother. Hoseok’s hands trembled as he held the silk scroll in his hands. “We only ask that you return safely.”

Yoongi groaned as he tugged his hair harshly. Grumbling something under his breath, he strode past his brother and slid open the door. “I’ll get the others.”

By others, he meant the rest of their brothers.

“Why?” Hoseok’s eyes lingered on the parchment. “Why is Father allowing this?”

“Contrary to what we all may think, Father understands what it means to be in love.” Seokjin closed the distance between them, placing a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder. “He cares for our happiness more than anyone. Mother also agrees.”

Sucking in air through his teeth, Hoseok shut his eyes in a vain attempt to keep from shedding tears. Months had passed since Ehri left to return home, and the tensions between Goryeo and Mongolia seemed to escalate. There was talk of war in the coming months, if not sooner. While Ehri and Hoseok wrote to each other diligently in that time, it was clear that there was nothing they would be able to do once the conflict officially broke out. There was a good chance that this war would separate them permanently.

He wanted to see her before then. No, he had to.

“If you can convince her to come back with you, then you will be married immediately upon your return.” 

He quickly lifted his face to meet Seokjin’s. “W-What?”

His brother’s gentle smile remained. “Mother and Father have both agreed to this.”

Unable to contain his elation, Hoseok threw himself into Seokjin’s arms. He took comfort in his older brother’s embrace. He felt Seokjin laugh as he patted Hoseok on the head like they were still children and he’d skinned his hands on the stone ground. 

“Be safe, Little Brother.”

Ehri quickly began gathering what few things she could. Mostly practical things, but there were some odds and ends that she collected that would be needed to procure money for her travels. There was no barring her parents from her quarters, but she could at least keep her sisters out of the way as she hurried along. Her attendant was at her wit’s end keeping watch to make sure that no one attempted to stop Ehri from what she was doing. 

Pain exploded across Ehri’s chest and she immediately collapsed to her knees, clutching at her chest as another coughing fit burst forth. She did her best to smother the noise, but it was useless. Her attendant was at her side instantly, handing her a cup of water to drink. She could barely get a few sips in before watery mist sprayed from her mouth due to another coughing outburst. Ehri’s breathing was unsteady, but she tried to pull as much air into her lungs as she could in an attempt to suppress the cough.

“My Lady,” called her attendant as she slowly rubbed circles along her back, “please, you must rest. The physician said so himself.”

Angry tears leaked from her eyes and she swiped them from her face quickly. “There’s no time,” she muttered, “we must leave tonight.”

“Please, My Lady, this is madness.” Her attendant was all but begging, but Ehri was stubborn. “There is no need for such haste. Did Lord Hoseok not say that he would be arriving tomorrow morning? Why must we leave in the middle of the night?”

“Don’t be so foolish!” Ehri snapped, glaring at her faithful attendant. “Do you still not understand the gravity of the situation?”

But she couldn’t expect her to. It was outside of her attendant’s control and her duties. No. This was Ehri’s fight. She had to do it. Because her parents were determined to keep her from the man she so desperately longed for. She’d missed him for him for days - no, for months. And it felt like years mounting between them the longer they were apart. Hoseok said he was coming for her and she had to believe him. She did believe him.

The animosity between their nations be damned. What did that have to do with any of their feelings for each other? Her family told her that Hoseok was the enemy because he was from a soon-to-be enemy nation. But she could never see him as the enemy. Ehri never would. While some would have accused her of lacking filial piety, she also believed that she was living up to the expectations from which she was raised. Give and take. That was how the merchant world operated. There was no such thing as a free meal.

If Fate was going to shorten her time on this earth, then she had every right to obtain happiness to make up for it.

Her attendant sighed heavily, pulling out a thick fur throw and settling it on top of Ehri’s shoulders. A few more coughs escaped, but she appreciated the warmth. The colder season was beginning to settle in and it would only be a matter of time before it was fully upon them.

“Does Lord Hoseok know of your condition, My Lady?”

Ehri shook her head fiercely. “No.” She pointed at her attendant. “And I forbid you from revealing it to him as well.” Ehri sighed, placing a hand to her chest. “It will only cause him to worry.”

Gathering herself up, Ehri reached out for her satchel but her attendant beat her to it. “You’ll have a difficult time carrying that and maintaining your breath. Let me carry this for you, My Lady.” She watched her attendant flash a warm smile to her. “Until we are able to get on the horses at least.”

Ehri gave her a devious smirk. “Very well.”

Hoseok awoke to the first frost of the season already collecting on the grass around the tent. It didn’t take him long to bathe and get dressed, foregoing a proper breakfast. Instead, he nibbled on some cured meat and bread, washing it down with water. His caravan dismantled their camp within minutes and they resumed their journey, having crossed into Mongol territory through the checkpoint yesterday evening. His father’s edict had, in fact, made things easier. But he was worried when the messenger pigeon he’d sent ahead for Ehri had not yet returned.

Did something happen?

No, he thought while shaking his head, I can’t think like that. I’m sure she still has the bird with her. Hoseok felt his chest swelling with the large intake of air he pulled, unable to shake the smile from his face. I will be seeing her soon.

The caravan moved at an even pace. He was so excited to see his beloved. He could still remember what her face looked like when she smiled; like the darkest nights could never hope to douse her radiance. It seemed a little unfair, truth be told, that she could be so captivating. But Hoseok considered himself blessed to know that he could love someone like her; that she loved him in return.

As his horse trotted along, Hoseok reached into his bag and pulled out the refurbished lacquered box. His hand smoothed over the mother of pearl decorations and he lifted the clasp up to open the box. Inside was the beautifully forged spider lily he purchased at what felt like a lifetime ago. He hadn’t known it then, but this was going to be his wedding present to Ehri. But he didn’t want to wait until the wedding. He wanted to be able to give it to her as soon as he saw her. 

A cold wind suddenly blew through the troupe, causing his skin to pepper out in goosebumps. He replaced the box back into his bag, securing the knot on the silken scarf to keep it from falling out. The rest of the group murmured their sentiments in that it was, in fact, cold. Hoseok quickly instructed everyone to put on warmer clothes so that they didn’t get sick. They all complied without hesitation. 

“Naeuri!”

Hoseok turned in the direction where the voice came from. Confusion melted to joy as he saw Ehri urging her horse forward with thunderous gallops, her faithful attendant barely able to keep up. Pulling at the reigns, Hoseok broke away from the caravan and pushed his own mount into a speedy gallop so that he could meet her halfway. As she came into view, Hoseok noticed her cheeks were a bit flushed and he could see the cloudy puffs of air coming from both her and her horse. His smile fell a fraction as he saw her clutching at her chest. 

Was something wrong?

Closer and closer they reached each other, until he saw Ehri standing up from her saddle. Her attendant screamed as both she and Hoseok watched Ehri jump from her horse and into the air. Leaning back, he stared open-mouthed as she flew toward him. A rough grunt was all he could manage as she landed in his arms and his horse protested in annoyance at the sudden added weight. Both of them toppled off the steed in a flurry of legs and arms. Hoseok maneuvered his body so that he was the one to hit the ground first. Again, the wind was knocked from his lungs as Ehri fell on top of him.

For a moment, all they could do was laugh painfully together.

“You know,” Ehri breathed as she sat up to look down at him, her face flushed and full with a smile, “we should really and truly stop meeting like this, don’t you agree?”

He beamed up at her. “Yes, I most certainly do.”

Again, they laughed. Hoseok’s heart was so full he thought it would burst. But the happiness was doused the moment Ehri began coughing. It was a harsh sound, as though she were struggling to breathe. It was cold out and maybe she’d gotten a little too excited. His hand moved up to touch her forehead and he gasped at her burning temperature. 

“Agassi!” he cried out, moving so that he was now sitting up and cradling her to his chest. “What happened? You have a terrible fever!”

Her attendant was at her side, looking flustered and on the verge of tears. “My Lady refuses to listen, that’s what.”

Quickly, she retrieved a folded up piece of paper from her garments and held it to Ehri’s lips. From what Hoseok could gather from the smell, it was some sort of medicine. The powder slid into Ehri’s mouth and she watched her cover her mouth to prevent from coughing it out on impulse. Her attendant pulled out a small canteen and held it to her lips, washing the powder down with water.

Hoseok turned his attention to Ehri’s attendant. “What is going on? I demand an answer!”

Ehri slapped her attendant the moment she opened her mouth to speak. The blow shocked the girl more than it hurt. This must have been the first time she’d ever been struck by Ehri in the entire time they’d been together. It was evident in both of their expressions. The attendant bit her lower lip as tears brimmed her eyes, but she eventually averted her gaze and remained quiet at their sides. 

“Ehri Agassi,” he murmured as she shifted her eyes to look up at him, “why did you--?”

“It’s just a minor affliction,” she said, her voice weak from coughing, “it will pass in time.”

His brows furrowed, but he nodded. Hoseok stood up, hefting Ehri into his arms. Her attendant followed suit as some members of his caravan collected their horses. There was a carriage in their group, to which he was now thankful for. His brothers, Namjoon and Jimin, insisted that he take it with him, regardless of how many times he explained to them that Ehri was a seasoned rider. He could remember the playful expressions on their faces as they explained that she was his bride-to-be and their future in-law. There was no sense in her not to indulge in comfort with this bitter weather coming in.

Hoseok settled her into the carriage, immediately wrapping her up with thick blankets and furs. If it was just a fever, then all she would need to do was sweat it out. She would be back to her old self in no time. Hell, before they returned to Goryeo. 

He was sure of it.

Hours seemed like days. Days moved like weeks.

Ehri felt herself falling in and out of consciousness so many times due to her fever. There were moments where she felt the world blurring around her. Other times, it appeared so clear, sharp and bright; so much so that she had to often squint to see. She hated being cramped in the carriage, but Ehri knew her body well enough to not push for wanting to ride like everyone else did. If she tried, she was almost certain that her condition would worsen.

It would be another week before they reached Goryeo.

I just have to hold on until then, she thought, the last dregs of sleep lifting from her eyes, just a little longer.

Part of Ehri felt terrible for keeping such a big secret from Hoseok. But revealing the truth would only hurt him. He would find a way to blame himself and she didn’t want that. It was simply the tiles that Life felt fit to deal to her. Before leaving her home, Ehri prayed to her ancestors and burned a small offering to the gods. She didn’t ask for much. Only a little more time than what was allotted to her.

She wouldn’t be greedy.

Two days later, she felt a little better. Ehri slid open the small window of the carriage so she could peer out at the world around them. The rolling hills and valleys of her home almost seemed to be bidding her farewell as the leaves browned and fell from the smattering of trees that existed. The hazy clouds sat along the mountain peaks, promising the onset of snow to come. The grass along the plains, once lush and green, were now beige. She would not see them return to their true green hues.

She took her medicine obediently and when they made camp, she apologized to her attendant for striking her. Her friend cried while holding her hands as Ehri lay in bed, too weak to laugh at how terrible her attendant’s face looked from all the crying she’d subjected herself to. After a refreshing bath and warm meal, she felt a little bit better. Hoseok periodically checked on her and was a gentleman in giving her her space. When she had the energy, he took her by the hand and led her throughout the camp to introduce her to the others. They were friends and loyal servants to Hoseok and his family. 

Ehri received warm greetings and welcomes, filling her heart with happiness she couldn’t begin to describe. These weren’t her people. They were Goryeons and lived a life far apart from her own. She should have been seen as the enemy in their eyes. They had every right to hate her for the potential cause of their country’s upheaval from her own people. But there was nothing of the sort in their eyes or their mannerisms toward her. 

Their vibrant laughter, rich stories, and warm smiles were a comfort to her. As she sat curled up by the campfire with the others, they all were entranced with Hoseok’s lute playing. He eased their worries for what would happen to their nation through his songs of encouragement, rekindling what hope may have burned out inside of each of them. As they often said, it was always darkest before dawn.

This, too, would pass.

The warmth of the fire, the lute’s melody, and her own fever lulled her to sleep. When she came to, she was back in her tent and wrapped in a number of blankets. A cold, damp cloth was pressed to her forehead. Ehri blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her vision and she saw Hoseok keeping vigil at her side. Their eyes met and the worry creases on his brows started to disappear. He tried to smile, but she knew he was having a hard time.

“I’m sorry, Hoseok Naeuri,” she murmured as she watched him preparing her medicine, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He shook his head. “No, you need to rest. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Especially with it getting colder.” Hoseok used a clean, dry cloth to wipe at the sweat around her cheeks and neck. 

Ehri tried to suppress a cough, but failed to keep a few of them from coming out. “How long until we reach Goryeo.”

“We’ll dismantle camp tomorrow and ride out at first light. If we keep a steady pace, we’ll arrive in a few days.” Removing the cloth from her forehead, he dipped it into a brass basin and wrung the water out. “And then we can get a proper physician to look at you.”

She pouted. “I’m fine,” she insisted, “I don’t get sick often so this is just how my body is reacting to it.”

“Even so, I want to be sure.” Hoseok placed the cloth back on her forehead. “Besides, in Goryeo we’ll have better access to medicine than the peddlers we’ve encountered on the journey.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Now sleep.”

Nodding, she sighed and was about to close her eyes when she noticed a box on the table. Ehri blinked, rubbed at her eyes, and then looked again to make sure she wasn’t seeing anything. There wasn’t such a decorative box on her table when she’d left the tent earlier. Hoseok seemed to gauge that she was looking elsewhere, following her line of sight. He gave a gentle laugh.

“Oh, that?” He stood from the small stool situated at her bedside and retrieved the box from the table. After he sat back down, he opened it and showed her the metallic spider lily inside. “Do you like it?”

Her lips parted, but she lacked the proper words to describe its beauty. Instead, she nodded.

“I’m glad.” He closed the box. “It was supposed to be your wedding present, but I figured this would help lift your spirits some.”

Ehri sighed a little, her brows furrowing. “But didn’t you say that the legend of the Spider Lily is a sad story?” She pouted again. “Why would you give me such a thing as a wedding present?”

Hoseok seemed to take amusement in her childish questioning and reached out to pet her head. “I bought this from an artisan who claimed that this flower is different from the actual spider lily.”

She was curious. “Different how?”

Again, Hoseok opened the box to show her the lovely flower. “He said that anyone who possesses this flower is guaranteed to be reunited with their love in the next life. It will not come to pass like in the tale of Manju and Saka.”

“How can he guarantee that?”

“I asked the same thing,” Hoseok said while laughing. He closed the box. “But we will just have to see when we are reborn again, hm?” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I want to love you again in our next life, Ehri-ah.”

The informal way of speaking to her caused her cheeks to flush. There was so much love in his words that she couldn’t help but feel the urge to cry. She didn’t know just how much time she had left to love this man, and it was even more cruel to keep that knowledge from him. But she wanted to prevent him from suffering needlessly. There was no sense in imparting such pain to him and so she would keep it bottled up inside of herself for as long as she could.

Until life saw it fit to escort her to the Underworld.

Ehri’s condition worsened as the days bled on. 

Hoseok did his best to keep himself calm, but there was a horrifying truth that he couldn’t shake from his mind, even though he desperately wanted to. He spied her attendant leaving Ehri’s tent on the night before they would arrive in Goryeo all but bawling her eyes out. He made sure to keep himself hidden and while there was a part of him that wanted to force her to tell him what was going on, he also wanted to respect Ehri’s wishes. 

Maybe he was thinking too much. Once they arrived in Goryeo, he would seek his father’s help in obtaining the best physicians to see to her care. They had skilled doctors in their country who were advancing their medical studies day after day.

Surely someone would have the remedy to heal Ehri’s ailment.

Hoseok wanted to ride in the carriage with Ehri until they were in Goryeo, but she insisted that she be alone. She didn’t want to bother him with all of her coughing and wheezing which, in turn, would only make him worry further. She wasn’t wrong, but the notion didn’t make him happy. Her attendant rode with her in the carriage, making sure she was hydrated and taking her medicine in a timely fashion.

After they crossed the border and cleared the checkpoint, Hoseok informed the others that he would ride ahead to his family’s estate. He needed to make sure everything was prepared for Ehri’s arrival and that doctors were already there to administer to her medically.

He practically burst through the main gate of his family’s estate, sliding off his horse and running for the main house. Slinging the door open roughly, he thundered through the halls - having not bothered to take off his shoes. 

“Father! Mother!” he yelled, opening every door he could see to determine the whereabouts of his family. 

Laughter was heard out in the garden and he ran through one of the side entrances to get there as quickly as possible. When he arrived at the gardens, looking quite haggard, his brothers stopped their archery competition as their parents peered up at him from their chairs. His youngest brother, Jungkook, dropped his bow and quiver, immediately racing to his side.

“Hyung-nim, what’s the matter?” he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

His other younger brothers, Jimin and Taehyung, were also making their way toward him. 

“You look like the Grim Reapers have been chasing you,” teased Taehyung as he peered over Hoseok’s shoulders, “in that much of a rush to introduce us to your bride-to-be?”

Hoseok ignored his little brother, his eyes meeting both of his older brother’s and his twin, Namjoon. They instantly could ascertain the desperation in his eyes. 

“What is it, Hoseok-ah?” their father asked, rising from his chair and crossing over to him. “Is everything alright?”

Reaching out with his hands, he clung shamelessly onto the sleeves of his father’s robes. “Father, please! Call a doctor, the best doctor we can afford and get our hands on!” His father frowned and Hoseok wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself together. “It’s Ehri! She’s sick and needs a physician immediately!”

Nodding, his father pointed to one of the servants to go fetch a physician from town immediately. After the servant left, Hoseok’s legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the ground. His mother and brothers were all at his side, lifting him back up onto his feet and ushering him to his room. He hadn’t realized how tired he was and while the adrenaline continued to pump through him, they urged him to close his eyes for just a little bit, all of them promising to wake him up the moment the caravan returned.

The fatigue and stress of the journey mixed together with Hoseok’s anxiety over Ehri. As he fell into his bed, he couldn’t fight against the urge of sleep overtaking him. Within seconds, the world faded out around him.

Hoseok’s family was delightful.

Even as she was placed in her own quarters and fussed over by doctors, they treated her like she was already a member of the family. Jungkook painted wonderful pictures of flowers and landscapes that he promised to have properly framed into a folding screen for her room. Taehyung told fascinating stories of adventurers going off to slay dragons. Jimin brewed some of the best tea she’d ever tasted in her life. The younger brothers all listened with rapt attention to the folk legends of her own homeland, particularly of warriors who fought valiantly against the gods to protect their people and ensure their power of choice and freewill was not taken from them.

Namjoon was quiet, often reading philosophical texts and poems from his and Hoseok’s collections. They were twin brothers and while they looked nothing alike, she could tell they both had similarly soft and intellectual natures. He was a bit more clumsy than Hoseok, as well as the rest of his brothers, but he more than made up for it with his charm and wit.

Yoongi, the second older brother, always seemed to sport a dour expression. At first, she believed that he didn’t like her for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. He clearly had no issue with her being a Mongol, but there was something barbarous in his words every time he spoke with her. It wasn’t until a few days after her arrival that it became clear that that was simply how he showed his affection to others. If he was worried, he fussed. If he was happy, he called someone foolish for being kind. If Hoseok wasn’t attending to her needs, Yoongi was always there to change out the damp cloths and wipe the sweat from her skin.

Seokjin was charming and kind, always gentle and sneaking in delicious sweets and snacks for her when she felt a little better. He kept a stern vigil on physicians who were overseeing her care in Hoseok’s absence. Truth be told, it was often Seokjin who chased her beloved Hoseok away since seeing her in that state only frayed his nerves even more.

Especially when the truth of her illness was finally revealed.

Many doctors examined her. They all came to the same conclusion. 

It was a disease of the lungs, one that they could not cure. While the physicians in her own country told her the same thing, part of Ehri hoped that Goryeo would have the answer where Mongolia did not. There was always the chance and it was that chance that Ehri clung on to so desperately. 

But like she expected, there was nothing they could do.

The only thing that could be done for her was to make her as comfortable as possible until the very end. Hoseok was a mess, raging at the doctors and threatening to have them killed for their laziness. But they were doing the best they could. Ehri could see that and so she knew Hoseok could see that as well. There was nothing that could be done. Only a miracle could pull Ehri out of this infestation attacking her lungs and she wasn’t a big believer of such things.

When she was well enough to move around, Ehri and Hoseok were married. It was a modest affair in his family home. Her only regret was that her own family couldn’t be part of the festivities. After a night of celebration, Ehri and Hoseok turned in for the night and slept. It was all she could manage since she lacked the strength in her body to give up her innocence, her first night, to her husband. But Hoseok was understanding and kind, merely holding her close to his body as she attempted to fight off a night of fitful, fever-induced dreams.

Like their nations’ leaders predicted, war began to spread throughout Goryeo and Mongolia. The conflict bled across borders and into each country, both nations hoping that the other would give up their stance on their respective worlds and surrender. Neither country would surrender to the other and the commoners, the people, were caught in the crossfire. Her family wrote to her, imploring her to come home but she couldn’t bring herself to even reassure them that she was fine. What energy she had, she spent it writing and it wasn’t to her family.

She was a person of Goryeo now.

Ehri felt it harder to maintain her energy with each passing day. When she finally started coughing up blood was when she knew her time in the world was drawing to a close. Her attendant was present at the time, spying the blood stain on her lips and the silk handkerchief. Ehri made her swear not to tell anyone, making sure her friend cleaned her face of the tears before going to fetch her tonic. 

Winter was not kind to Ehri’s lungs and she wasn’t allowed to see the snow falling outside. This saddened her far more than she expected since the snow reminded her of home. But Ehri also knew that the minute she inhaled the cold, it would spread like needles into her lungs. Regardless of the inevitable, she still had to take care of herself.

As she diligently took her medicine and rested, Ehri could smell the air changing from inside the estate. Spring would soon be upon them. She would be able to see the flowers blooming again. The pollen would, no doubt, be terrible for her lungs. But she didn’t care. She was denied her snow, the least she could do was indulge in the rebirth of the land.

Ehri exited her room as quietly as possible, leaving her attendant asleep at the table while she was sewing. She would get an earful later, but it would be worth it to see the lovely dogwood and cherry trees in full bloom in the courtyard. She wrapped an extra layer of clothing around her body to keep the cold at bay, stumbling out onto the back verandah.

Her lips parted in awe at the blossoms swaying back and forth on their branches. The delicate pink and white petals flew and danced in the air as they broke free from their constraints. The sky was a pastel blue and there were no clouds to be seen. The sight caused tears to form in Ehri’s eyes and she quickly covered her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered to herself. 

“Pu-in,” called Hoseok, startling her. She noted the serious look on his face and immediately lowered her head in shame. She’d been caught in the act. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’ve slept enough.” Reaching out to grasp his arm, she looped her own through his. “I wanted to enjoy the day with you, Seobang-nim.” 

Ehri giggled and she noted the slight tint of pink on Hoseok’s cheeks. They’d been officially husband and wife for several months and he still seemed so shy about it. Which was fine with her. It made it so much easier to tease him.

Clearing his throat loudly, he turned his face away from her to hide his shyness. “Yes, well...you should have had your attendant come fetch me then.”

She leaned in closer, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “It’s more fun this way.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat, carefully ushering her down the steps from the verandah and into the courtyard. Ehri knew he could never stay upset with her for very long. While she tried not to have her way all the time, she was still stubborn about certain things. Refusing to be bed-ridden was one of those instances, regardless of how tired her body felt and how much it protested against her.

They crossed the courtyard, making their way toward the large dogwood tree. From there, he fanned out the tail end of his robe so that Ehri could sit on it and not get her clothes dirty. She laughed gently, feeling another flush rush up her neck and spread over her cheeks. Truly, she was the luckiest woman alive to have such a caring husband who loved and spoiled her. 

Settling herself comfortably, Ehri laid her head on Hoseok’s shoulder. He shifted a little, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close. Gasping, she couldn’t help the shy smile that flitted over her face. When she took a breath, she could smell his scent that was so unique to him; like the forest after a rainstorm. It mixed in with all the different fragrances of Spring that seemed to dance around them. Taking her hand in his, he laced his fingers through hers and they sat quietly together as a soft breeze tickled along Ehri’s skin.

“Seobang-nim?”

Hoseok hummed. “Yes, what is it, Pu-in?”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “Thank you.”

She felt him shift and she knew, even without looking at him, that Hoseok was looking at her. “For what?”

“Everything.” Ehri gripped his fingers a little tighter around his. “Thank you for everything.”

Hoseok moved, causing Ehri to lift her head up so she had to look at him. While one hand held hers, his other rested along her neck. “Pu-in…”

“I love you,” she whispered to him, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

Nothing else needed to be said. All of the beautiful moments she’d come to cherish weren’t meaningless. They were precious memories she would carry with her into the afterlife. She would never let them go. And when she was reborn, Ehri simply had one wish and she hoped that the gods would be kind enough to grant it. 

If I’m reborn, please let me love this man again. Let me love him longer in my next life. Please…

And in the darkness, Ehri felt the world fall to a raw tilt. It was like the earth opened up beneath her and began swallowing her whole. Her body felt heavy, weighted down by gravity. But she smiled against Hoseok’s lips. It was dark but she could still see his face, clear as if she were looking at him. She memorized all of his features in that moment, clinging onto them and engraving them into her heart. No, her soul.

Soon, her heartbeat stilled. All that was left was silence.

Hoseok watched as the flames devoured the elegant pine box Ehri was placed in. The funeral pyre was adorned with various flowers that his mother and sister-in-laws arranged themselves. Ehri’s family was allowed to cross the border so they could be present for her funeral services. Voices cried out as the fire grew in volume, the smoke billowing up to stain the skies in a black fog. Resting on top of the box was the metallic spider lily he’d given Ehri as a wedding present. He wasn’t sure if it was through the waves of heat or his own tears, but the flower almost seemed to take on an ethereal glow. 

No, his eyes were surely playing tricks on him.

Spring had barely begun. It was a time of rebirth and renewal. It was supposed to be a time of healing. 

Instead, something precious had been taken from him. Hoseok wasn’t sure how to even begin processing that.

He remained alone in the yard long after Ehri’s pyre extinguished itself. Her ashes were gathered in a ceramic urn and a memorial tablet was carved from the branch of the cherry trees she loved so much. It was stained and polished, inked and then placed in a small cabinet that was designated just for her. Hoseok burned a stick of incense for her every morning and every night. When he wasn’t attending to his duties around the home or tutoring other young students, he was at the temple to offer up prayers and bows almost a thousand times.

He returned home with swollen legs and sore arms every night.

For a time, he begged his family to leave Ehri’s room alone. In time, he would come to move on from her untimely demise. But until then, he wanted to be able to take comfort in her presence even in her absence. When he did enter her chambers, he could see the unfinished needlepoint of the crane by her easel. There were times when she dabbled in watercolors, thanks to Jungkook’s teaching, and she was getting better and better as days went on. 

Before her illness took a turn for the worse.

The room had her smell, albeit a bit faint, but it was still there. Hoseok took what little comfort he could from it. His hand traced over the small vanity where she attempted to apply makeup. Hoseok smiled sadly at the container of rouge that was barely touched because Ehri wasn’t healthy enough to apply the makeup on herself. His fingers curled into the small handle of the vanity’s drawer, pulling it out slowly. Inside was her hairbrush, embossed with vines made of silver and a few pearls. It was a gift from his mother at the behest that she be allowed to attend to Ehri’s hair from time to time. Of course, his beloved wife relented to the request gladly.

Just as he was about to close the drawer, he noticed a folded piece of paper under the hairbrush. Curious, he removed the paper and unfolded it. The handwriting was clearly Ehri’s and this brought a touch of comfort to him. However, as he read the words, Hoseok couldn’t stop his hands from trembling as tears seeped from his eyes.

My Dearest Hoseok,

I pray that you never find this letter. I am merely writing it for my own peace of mind. I am leaving it in a place I hope you never find and that I will have the courage to destroy it before you stumble upon it. But there is a good chance that I will not be well enough to do so. In fact, the fevers that wrack my body will most likely make me forget that I’ve even done this in the first place. But that’s alright.

I know that my time in this world grows short and it pains me to see you agonizing over my condition. I don’t want you to dwell on the past. This was something out of our control and there is nothing we could have done to prevent this. I am so fortunate to have been able to spend these last moments by your side.

Your family, your people, are my family and my people. You looked upon me not as a Mongol, an enemy, but as someone to be loved and cherished. Someone to be brought into the fold and welcomed with open arms. I do not know what the state of the world will be when you come to find this, but I hope things have calmed down. I hope that peace has returned to our people.

Mongolia. I have missed it. I have missed the snowy peaks and the fresh white powder of the landscape. I have always wanted to show you this place. The place where I was “born” - when I was a wild girl indulging in wild adventures long ago. I wish I could have shown you the country before everything fell to turmoil; before this illness threatened to claim me and drag me into the Underworld. I had so many stories I wished to share with you of my homeland.

Though, in truth, I can hardly remember it now. It’s been so long and the fevers make it difficult to focus.

I do not know if you will ever come to Mongolia on your own. But if you do, I hope the stories and traditions will bring you comfort in my absence. When you miss me. I will miss you terribly when I’m gone.

I want you to please know and understand that being with you, loving you, was the greatest gift I could ever receive in this life. Though our time was short, it was filled with wonderful things that I’m sure not many people get to experience. It was a full and lasting love; one that I am so happy to have received from you.

With this, I say farewell to you. I hope you will never read this. I pray you will never see this. But if you do, that is okay. I have made my peace with it and with the life that I was given, short as it was.

My only regret is that I was unable to express my love for you to the fullest degree that I could. I am sorry I could not show you my heart in the way that I wished. I am sorry that I could not love you more. Forgive me for being unable to tell you, Hoseok, how much you mean to me.

I will cherish the memories we have created. I will hold them close to me as I return to the Underworld. Please be well. Please be happy.

Most of all ... please forget me.

I don’t want you to be in pain after I’m gone. Because I believe in the legend of the Spider Lily. I believe in the legend that was forged in that flower you gave me. I believe that we will see each other again.

And I promise you, in our next life, I will love you even more than I did in this one.

Farewell, my Dearest Hoseok. My greatest love.

Until we meet again.

~ Bayaraa Ehri

It was the last thing Ehri left for him; a final parting gift. Clutching the letter to his chest, he heaved silent sobs as his tears fell to the floor. He crashed to his knees, hugging his body as he bent over and continued to wail in silence, his shoulders trembling with the heaviness of his cries. Everything hurt, especially breathing. And when he could no longer keep himself together, he passed out on the floor - clinging to his wife’s letter tightly to his chest.

The rain fell in heavy waves outside. Hoseok sat out on the back verandah, his head resting along the wooden pillar of his home. Spring rain gave birth to new life. Crops would be rejuvenated and grain could be harvested. Animals were being born to give the next generation a chance at survival. Festivals would be on the horizon once the rain stopped. There was always a rainbow on the other side when the sun returned.

He could take no comfort in any of it.

Not a day went by that Hoseok didn’t read the letter his wife left behind. It was the last thing he could hold on to of hers. The last chance at clinging to the memory that was her; the free-spirited woman he came to know and love with every fiber of his being. Could the Fates have been more cruel to have allowed him to stumble across her parting words? Why hadn’t she burned it up or destroyed it herself? What even possessed her to write such a thing, to leave a lasting dagger in his chest?

“You’re so mean, Pu-in.” A sad smile crossed his face as he listened to the rain beat down around him. “I thought you loved me. How could you do something so mean?”

Hoseok rarely ate and hardly slept. When he did, he was unable to keep food down. When he slept, it was full of nightmares of him losing Ehri over and over again; unable to prevent her from being swept away by darkness. He often woke up screaming, covered in sweat, and his brothers were at his side in their own attempts to comfort him. His parents tried to get him to take the medicine the physicians left, but everything tasted like ash in his mouth.

He could barely get three spoonfuls in before promptly vomiting it back up.

It didn’t take long for him to get sick. His grief was an ailment all by itself and his refusal to nourish himself only expedited his illness. While he felt guilty for the anguish he was causing his family, Hoseok couldn’t find a way to heal his broken heart. 

He cried himself to sleep. It was the only way he could.

As the days shifted to weeks, Hoseok’s entire physical appearance changed. Because of his lack of eating and sleeping, he appeared gaunt and sickly. He lost weight and looked like he had one foot in the grave already. What energy he did muster, it was to read Ehri’s last letter.

She told him to be happy. She told him to live. 

Worst of all? She told him to forget her.

How could she be so heartless? Didn’t she understand how much he loved her? How much her existence meant to him? Asking Hoseok to erase her from his mind, his heart, was just too much for him to handle.

Did she say that so they would be guaranteed a chance to meet again in the next life?

If so, then he didn’t want to continue living in this world without her. Wouldn’t it have been better to leave so they could meet quickly? What was time when one was no longer alive to determine its existence? To be able to ascertain the creeping ebb and flow of the passing seasons?

Rolling over onto his side, he clutched the letter in his hands as his tears soaked into his silk pillow. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely recognizable, “I don’t want to be here to see it alone. I don’t want to see it march on without you here with me.”

He shut his eyes, curling his body into a ball as tightly as he could. The rain fell softly outside and he could hear it from his window. It was nature’s last attempt at calming the raging storm in Hoseok’s heart. His final farewell to a world that he no longer wished to be part of.

The world cried with him.

And in that last moment, Hoseok felt what remained of his spirit slowly lifting away. His vision blurred until there was nothing but a pinprick of light. Seconds later, it, too, disappeared. The guilt and regret that weighed on his heart smothered it out, leaving him alone.

The spring rain fell harder in response to Hoseok’s departure, leaving only his shell behind. The two lovers were now gone, their spirits returning to the ether. They were separated now, thanks to a cruel twist of Fate. But the spider lilies would not forget their sorrow. They would remember; their tears forever soaked into their petals and leaves. A promise to be reunited forged in iron and melted in fire once more.

The Heavens would mourn their passing for now.

Until they were able to meet again.

AN: So for those of you curious, I figured I would give you a little breakdown on honorifics used in Classical/Period Korea. Naeuri - A term used for men who were not peasants, servants, or slaves. Agassi - A term used for unmarried women who were not peasants, servants, or slaves. Hyung-nim - A term used by younger brothers in reference to their older brothers. Pu-in - A term used by men when speaking to their wives. Seobang-nim - A term used by women when speaking to their husbands.

#bangtanscenery #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts hoseok #bts j-hope #j-hope bts #hoseok bts #jung hoseok #bts jung hoseok #jung hoseok bts #jung hoseok x oc #thebiasrekkers #bts thebiasrekkers #thebiasrekkers bts #bts historical au #bts historical!au #bts period au #bts period!au #bts angst #bts x angst #bts tragedy #bts x tragedy

[ajebjorkman-blog]

The Long Cold Open to Socialism or Barbarism... or Party Space Alpha

Recently, I bumped into a few of those unfortunate zombies propelled into mindless shuffling by the absolute horror of the hollow center; and, if it’s the case that the concept of the hollow center draws a blank—the dank whiteness of the silver screen before some Clint Eastwood shooting-gun-male-sociopath-revenge-drama—try to imagine a vast pit of waste, much like the overarching metaphor of Don DeLillo’s mind-numbingly boring Underworld. All in all, though, and to cut my tendency toward preciousness to at best shorter, the hollow center is cra(aa)p—the hollow center is a space endlessly differentiated and endlessly atomizing and endlessly unfeeling, and as is the case with the very idea of all things endless (whatever that may mean), time and history stops to matter, specifically history. The end of history has already happened, though, with the fall of the Soviet Union—at least according to Frances Fukuyama. He’s still alive, right?  

Or, or… 

or think of the hollow center like this: it’s the forever-noon party—or whatever time of day the elderly booze up and kick down—of Hypercharged Capital held at Party Space Alpha.  

Ayn Rand, Milton Friedman and Friedrich Hayek are adored keynote speakers, brought back from the dead by scientism-magic to white-counter the supposed browning of the world, or, as some religious zealots opine, the existential threat of the tainting of the world.

Rand says, “The worst guilt is to accept an unearned guilt.”

The crowd cheers and chants, “Galt! Who the fuck is Galt!!?”

Friedman says, “Shock, shock, shock!”

The crowd cheers and chants, though quizzingly, “Who is Galt?”

Hayek says something about force from afar as a corrective while the crowd tries to find the one voice who said, “Galt is Atlas, no? Greek stuff, I think.”

After speeches and rants, lobotomized servants serve finger food from gold platters, and Ted Nugent takes the stage, humps his guitar and sings about pedophilia and freedom.

And look at those skeletons shuffle and jig, some pumping their fists and whiplashing their necks.

Joy and sanity, re-enter my world. You enter Party Space Alpha, try to get a feel for the place, and you think:

So this is where I’ve come to.

You mingle...and look, there’s one of those Zoomer-influencers you’ve heard about, always be gramming.  

“What I’m trying to do, see,” the Zoomer-influencer says, “is to make jokes about race and fucking and such, you know, make them great again, hint, hint.” (Yes, he says hint, hint out loud-) Also, ”That dead man hanging. Sad, very sad. I already said I’m sorry, ok!” He storms off, leaving you to think about things when a hand, moist, so moist, graces your shoulder.

You turn around. A somewhat cross-eyed dude—on closer inspection, however, he’s not cross-eyed, just dead-eyed—speaks to you in an affected, puppet-like voice, like his vocal chords are somehow placed inside his Adam’s apple.

The dead-eyed dude with weird Adam’s apple-voice says, “Want to discuss ideas?”

You nod. You’re already here, you think, so why not. You throw a few ideas up for consideration and deliberation: Socialized housing and healthcare, that’d be a good start, you think, after which you mention structures of oppression and that they’re crap; you mention essentialism, the idea of Spinozian substances and God-given grace and soul and pineal gland homunculus’ puppetry and phrenology and sociobiology and Steven Pinker, and how these fucked up descriptive statements prescribe fucked up social agendas; you skip from Hume (you can’t experience causality, am I right) to Kant (Let’s critique pure reason, am I right) through Hegel (History isn’t purely spiritual, am I right) to Marx. Also, because why not, and it’s not really and ad hominem,  you mention that it would be quite funny to create a Japanese game show where libertarians, fascists, conservatives, and dangerously daft liberals are mildly tortured for the prize of cool trinkets.

The dead-eyed dude nods, furrows his brow and smacks his tongue—a hint of anxiousness, like eels speeding his dead eye-water, momentarily turns him somewhat human. He says:

“I see. But you see, I want to discuss high-level ideas, like do you have an iPhone? If so, you’re no oppressed.”

You leave because the dead-eyed weird dude was about to have a stroke, or so it seemed, ranting about oppression O(h)lympics and whatever else.

From the corner of the vast space, a dwarfed dude with a boyish bowl-cut speedily espouses that facts don’t care about your emotions and that the labor theory of value is anachronistic balderdash. He espouses this to a party-fun-house-mirror, in training for debate-destroying. To his right, arms crossed, stands a gang of clean-shaven dudes. They all wear Fred Perry- shirts. They’re all sweaty, and their sweat forms a cloud, and the cloud spells: We Are Disenfranchised Also, Blue Lives Matter. Also, one of the dudes holds a katana. Lord knows why. Another dead-eyed dude-bro-boy close by—there’s so many of them, more or less affective, this one like a flat line—explains that the Lord is dead, which, sure, you think, sounds like a shame.

In a dull monotone, the Flatliner continues:

“The hadith… the muslem or Mos-Lem religion, Islam—that explains the katana. It’s a necessary precaution to ward off the onslaught—and don’t take me out of context, please, I’m only ideating like Socrates in the, eh, in the Atheneum.  

“What onslaught?” you ask.

“It’s a moral priority to honestly and openly assess the geopolitical and, eh, moral consequences of the actual content of the Quran, and, eh… so, turning a blind eye to, eh, to statistically significant increases in, eh, rape and… so rape and terror, yes terror—that’s not only morally ambiguous, it’s morally vacuous, and my contention and intention as a civil Western…”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I do wonder what you think about this, Mr. Flatline: Socrates was deemed dangerous and such, right, and he was killed by the state for riling up the hoi polloi, for advancing critical thinking and debate. He was force-fed that killing drink, right, the one that killed him off in increments from feet to head. So, as a latter-day Socrates, will you help me understand if there is an analogy between being forced to drink the killing drink and, how should I phrase it—being coerced to drink the Kool-Aid, in that both drinks literally kills off something? I know it’s somewhat heady and not entirely coherent, but you know, nothing is entirely coherent. Contradictions and that.”

“Well, this is typical muddying of the water…”

“Or muddying the fluid? Kool-Aid, killing drink, Kool-Aid, killing drink…”

“Woo-woo. If you look at the end of my first book, in the last footnote of the epilogue, I clearly refer to a footnote in a blog post about this subject, and that footnote, if only you’d just read it—it clearly refers to what I said in my podcast some year or so ago, so.”

You leave, not daring to continue what already initially was a torturous exchange. You start to feel heavy and kind of fragmented at the same time. Weird.  

   Somewhere else in Part Space Alpha an orange blob in diapers eats hamburgers and ribs and chocolate and wipes the drooping and drooping corners of his mouth with the flag of Palestine while a hunched over assistant takes notes:

NEED TO BUY MORE FOOD FOR LEADER. (It’s so Alpha to capitalize notes.)

Someone fires a gun into the air and laughs amidst applause. Such a nice gun! The orange blob stops munching and laughs without it sounding like laughter. He just opens his mouth and shows his teeth. He says:

“My guy. Give him a tank.” He realizes, shouts: “Where’s my African American!”

No one responds or arrives. There’s few to no black or brown people in Party Space Alpha; also, quite a few women dare venture into Party Space Alpha, because… Party Space Alpha.

Hunched over one of the few women present, Slender Man in a fedora and a pinstriped suit berates and gestures and cries a little:

“The absence of women in Party Space Alpha forms the materiality of the legitimacy of the perceived subordination of those young men to whom the existential and the individual necessity of sexual intercourse is denied. If only these young men were allowed to slap and slap happily, there’d be mental equilibrium.”

Enough.

You exit by the back door unto the Wasteland, your only refuge from the constant violence of Party Space Alpha; and you’re not feeling morally vacuous for being ok with the idea of this vast space somehow eating itself to death. So, Party Space Alpha is the hollow center. It WILL fuck you up.

#leftisbest #socialism #nonfiction #creative nonfiction #aje #party space alpha leftism lumpen dave rubin ben shapiro jordan peterson sam harris fuck trump

[alarriefantasy]

                                 Enemies to Lovers (Part 2)

Won't Let Go of You for Nothing by AFangirlFantasy

Words: 3k

Louis’ new neighbor is playing their music offensively loud, and he’s fucking pissed. Every night this week he hasn’t been able to fall asleep because of it, but tonight, Louis refuses to suffer again. Taking matters into his own hands, Louis goes over to knock some much needed sense into their brain.

Things may or may not go the way he plans.

Or a Love/Hate neighbors AU

Like You Hate Me by KrisStylinson

Words: 6k

“You have poor taste for someone with the last name Styles,” he says, turning to show the back of his pants to Harry—the pants Harry had just stitched his name across last night to keep this type of thing from happening again.

Of course, he’s accomplished nothing but indirectly making himself pop a stiffy over Louis fucking Tomlinson.

say i hate you but i always stay by clicheanna 

Words: 8k

Or the one where Harry hates Louis, he's almost sure Louis hates him, and they live together. Driving him to football practice everyday is not apart of Harry's plans, but Louis is pretty adamant if it means annoying Harry.

A Stór Mo Chroí by kiwikero 

Words: 9k

Louis is a young laird from Clan Sutherland and Harry the chieftain of Clan Gunn, and an alliance between their clans isn't enough to convince the two of them to get along.

Shut Up and Wink at Me by kikikryslee

Words: 14k

Or, the one where Louis wants to go away to college to get away from everything having to do with his hometown. So when he finds out his roommate will be Harry Styles, perfect school athlete and the exact opposite of what Louis wants in a roommate, he's not happy about it.

kiss me on the mouth and set me free by suspendrs

Words: 17k

Or, Louis is a gamer and Harry is a beauty guru, and VidCon is a good place to fall in love.

you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity

Words: 18k

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

the boys of fall by godgavemelou

Words: 21k

OR an american football au where the boys play for the university of tennessee, and harry and louis quite hate each other.

written in the stars (that's you and me) by fackinglouis

Words: 22k

Written for the prompt: Louis is a funny and bratty psychic and Harry is set on proving he's a scam.

Staring Across the Room by allwaswell16

Words: 26k

Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

Mine Now by aclosetlarryshipper

Words: 32k

This is the story of how Harry finds himself pouting in Louis’ passenger seat with a raging boner on the way to seduce his ex boyfriend.

like it's a game by soldouthaz

Words: 32k

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

(we will be) as if chosen by alivingfire 

Words: 35k

Or: the course of true love never did run smooth, because sometimes people are stubborn and sometimes people are scared and sometimes, just sometimes, love can cause just as many problems as it solves.

I Hate You by mediwitch3

Words: 35k

Harry and Louis hate each other, a lot, but they pretend to be friends for the sake of their careers. One night, during an argument, they bang. They can’t keep their hands off each other after that. 

Be with me so happily by BriaMaria

Words: 42k

aka Louis is the director of the Styles Elephant Sanctuary and really doesn't want to babysit his funder's spoiled lay-about son for two months

no pressure, no diamonds by karamelised

Words: 42k

Louis is a thief, Harry a grifter. They are thrown together for a huge diamond heist in Paris, where their past soon catches up to them.

Wonderwall by AFangirlFantasy

Words: 43k

Or a Love/Hate College AU where Louis Tomlinson is the lead singer of The Rogue - the most popular band on campus - and Harry Styles is the talented Freshman unknowingly challenging all that.

bruise you like a peach by falsegoodnight

Words: 46k

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

Beauty Behind The Madness. by ZiamsLarry

Words: 59k

Harry doesn't meet the worlds perspective of looks, causing him to be judged every time he leaves his house. He never lets it get to him, because he knows that when he gets home at the end of the day he has the most beautiful little girl waiting for him.

So with just her and the lovely old lady down the hall who babysits her, Harry thinks his life is good enough for him.

Of course it all changes when the appartment across from him gets new attendants.

Why Can't It Be Like That by taggiecb

Words: 63k

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

The Art of Being a Gentleman by frosteddream

Words: 64k

Out of all four of the Styles children, Harry has always been the most adored. He is the handsome, intelligent, and oh so charming golden child of the family, the perfect son who will soon be married to the perfect woman, a beauty queen named Victoria Astaire. Despite how loved he is among all who reside in the affluent town of Alton, his siblings absolutely despise him. In order to stain his squeaky-clean reputation and get their traditional, old fashioned parents to despise him as much as they do, they devise a plan that involves Harry’s giving nature, the desperation of a mother and father, and a mischievous boy who doesn’t give a damn about what’s proper.

to lure a hummingbird (you had me moonstruck) by brokenbeaks

Words: 81k

Or: An enemies-to-lovers fic where Harry and Louis are neighbours who are forced to get along due to the inconvenience (or convenience) of a broken lift.

Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling

Words: 83k

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

Runaway Land by daggerinrose

Words: 103k

Louis is sure he’s stumbled upon a secret, underground nightclub, though that is far from the truth. He’s also pretty sure he’s stumbled upon Apollo, which… isn’t very far from the truth, actually.

Modern Greek mythology AU.

Learning to Breathe by youcomecrash

Words: 110k

He’s playing football at one of the top universities in England and he should love everything about his life right now, but instead he’s moving backwards. How does your past fit into your present? Louis is still figuring it out.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey

Words: 113k

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Empty Gold by rainbow_kings

Words: 148k

In the final year, when Guildhall produces and performs an original play, Louis is heartbroken to learn the lead role has been been received to Harry and he's the second role. He's mostly terrified, however, when he realises he has to date Harry in the play as their characters. They come together through awkward stage kisses that transforms to hate sex, heated arguments, rehearsal times after lectures and baking carrot cake together.

Collision by itjustkindahappened

Words: 206k

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

♡ credit to the owner of the manip

♡ past themed recs here

♡ updated: 3.21.2021

#I DID A PART TWO #wow so many more #enemies to lovers #hate to love #larry stylinson #larry

[linkspooky]

The Parable of Sisyphus

King Sisyphus was known from Homer onward as the craftiest of men. He betrayed one of Zeus’ secrets by revealing the whereabouts of Aegina, in return for causing a spring to flow on the Corinthian acropolis. 

In return, Zeus then ordered Thanatos, Death, to chain King Sisyphus down below in Tartarus. Sisyphus was curious as to why Hermes, whose job it was to guide souls to the Underworld had not appeared on this occasion. He slyly asked Thanatos to demonstrate how the chains worked. As Thanatos was granting him his wish, Sisyphus sezied the opportunity and trapped Thenatos in the chains instead. Once Thanatos was bound by the strong chains, no one died on earth. 

Before Sisyphus died he told his wife to throw his naked body in the middle of the bpulic square. This caused King Sisyphus to end up on the shores of the river Styx. Then, complaining to Persephone that this was a sign of his wife’s disrespect for him, he persuaded her to allow him to return to the upper world. Eventually he was dragged back down for his trickery. 

As a punishment for this, he was made to endlessly roll a boulder up his steep hill. The maddening nature of the punishment was reserved for King Sisyphus due to his hubristic belief that his cleverness surpassed the gods. Zeus accordingly displayed his own cleverness by enchanting the boulder into rolling away from King Sisyphus before he reached the top, which ended up cosigning Sisyphus to an eternity of useless efforts and unending frustration. 

Therefore I find it impossible for a chapter where Kanou dies, without facing any kind of justice at all and way too easily, and one where he namedrops Sisyphus himself and take it at face value.

It’s a story specifically about cheating death. Which, Ishida has taunted us with the possibility of for a long time, and also both Koma and Irimi, and also Marude have made symbolic returns from the dead in story.

That’s not the only interpretation of the Sisyphus story though. There is the greek one, one of hubris, of a man thinking he can outwit the gods and then paying the price to have all of his intelligence and cunning go to waste as he’s put to a mindless task. (If we’re going by greek interpretation alone then Kanou definitely should not get out of it this easily, consequences matter in Greek tragedy beyond death and for Kanou it should be having his mind stripped away from him b/c that’s the only thing he values to the detriment of others much like Sisyphus). 

However there is a more modern interpretation of his tale. “The Myth of Sisyphus” is a modern take on the Myth that is tied heavily to the existentialist branch of philosophy, though, Camus himself probably wouldn’t call himself an existentialist. He likened what Sisyphus did, rolling a rock up a hill only to have it fall back down again to be an impossible task, an absurdity. That life itself was Sisyphian. 

The central concern of The Myth of Sisyphus is what Camus calls "the absurd." Camus claims that there is a fundamental conflict between what we want from the universe (whether it be meaning, order, or reasons) and what we find in the universe (formless chaos). 

Hmm, sounds weirdly familiar.

Camus reasons there are only two results to this question. Either humanity makes a leap of faith and assumes there is some meaning through god, or that their is no meaning to life at all. I think it’s not coincidence that one of the very existentialist clowns is a catholic priest then. 

Camus opens his essay with an even more extreme utlimatum though. He asks if the latter conclusion is true, if life has no meaning, does that mean life is not worth living? If that were the case, we  would have no option but to make a leap of faith or to commit suicide.

“There is only one really serious philosophical problem,” Camus says, “and that is suicide. Deciding whether or not life is worth living is to answer the fundamental question in philosophy. All other questions follow from that” (MS, 3).

So we have in this chapter, once again another figure commit suicide suddenly and leave everything else he’s done to chance even though it may render his work entirely meaningless.

I think it’s no coincidence then that in this narrative right now, the biggest influencers the two kings for the world are explicitly depicted as having a suicidal wish to their actions.

Remember, Furuta’s plan is now confirmed by Kanou to have explicitly hinged on him being eaten as well. As far as we know it worked, Furuta’s entire side where the nucleus was implanted has been torn off and that was the arm he was regenerating while speaking to Ui.

But by all thematic purposes, their narratives shouldn’t succeed. As far as we’re being shown though, Kaneki is getting exactly what he wanted. He got to die in style, and still everybody around him is throwing love at his feet. 

Nobody holds him accountable for the bad decisions he made as king, for letting ghouls starve and die. It makes sense why they wouldn’t however, as currently there is no Kaneki to hold accountable there. If Shuu screamed bloody murder about how he killed Karren and doesn’t care about ghouls now what exactly would it accomplish? When there’s no Kaneki to hold accountable for that? 

Those words struck me as so raw, because remember Karren’s final thoughts were these.

Karren’s one moment of happiness in life comes from saving a person she loved, and then that same person’s only care in life seems to be the happiness of her murderer?

That’s completely absurd. It’s a contradiction that should be impossible to reconcile. On the other hand it makes sense in Shuu’s character, Shuu has always been extremely pro-living because he came from a normal place of love. It makes sense that Shuu would try to move on and ensure the happiness of the people he had less, rather than fixate entirely on the people he lost. 

That’s exactly it though, Shuu would not want Kaneki to die. Kaneki’s friends will not allow him to die. The message they’ve said to him is “Live.”

I agree with that. No matter what Kaneki has done so far he should live, nothing would come from his death, from another pointless suicide like Arima and Kanou.

Tokyo Ghoul thematically as a manga has always been extremely anti-suicide and in favor of living. This is the illusion that we’re being presented to us right now. That Furuta and Kaneki’s solutions are working. That them putting their lives in moral peril, is somehow going to be a catalyst to unite both sides. That reunion will never come however, if based on a lie. 

The absurd is a contradiction that cannot be reconciled, and any attempt to reconcile this contradiction is simply an attempt to escape from it: facing the absurd is struggling against it.

This is what we’ve seen this entire arc. People attempting to reconcile things which cannot be reconciled, and therefore they just try to escape it entirely. 

“What meaning is there to live while facing death- Oh hey, Touka.”

Impossible contradiction life and death, and then escapism.

Camus is interested in pursuing a third possibility: that we can accept and live in a world devoid of meaning and purpose. Living with the absurd, is a matter of facing this fundamental contradiction and maintaining constant awareness of it. It’s what Amon himself preaches, even if he doesn’t practice it.

Ironically in 98, the same chapter in which our absurdist is crowned as king, Amon gives us the key to escaping it. He gives it to the Quinx as well. 

Now, of all characters who has actually held Kaneki accountable for his actions. Who has actually questioned him.

This is a question that deserves an answer. It’s one Kaneki ignores and has entirely yet to give.

The third solution Camus presents is not love, at least not yet, but rather being made to face reality. Which is why if Touka, Hide, and Tsukiyama are the embodiments of Kaneki’s positive qualities, the one who want to save him. Then equally valid are the embodiments of Kaneki’s negative qualities, his endless struggling, his trauma and lashing out, his inability to decide or act on time.

Camus presents us with the solution, we cannot distract ourselves, we cannot take a leap of faith, and we cannot die to escape it. The only solution to live with it. However, living means continually and without hesitation facing that same reality.

That’s not going to come from Goat or Hide, both forces who love Kaneki too much to stop him or look at him at face value. Hide who blames himself for the thing Kaneki decided to do. 

Tsukiyama who lies about Kaneki caring about ghouls and humans equally. Goat, who is both easily as swayed by Itori’s words as they are by Tsukiyama’s.

The answer must lie in both ends, both those who love Kaneki and those who want to see him held accountable. That’s the only way Kaneki himself can ever grow or change as a character, and learn to face the absurd unwaveringly. 

Oh one more thing.

"Those who prefer their principles over their happiness, they refuse to be happy outside the conditions they seem to have attached to their happiness. If they are happy by surprise, they find themselves disabled, unhappy to be deprived of their unhappiness." 

 Since that is Camus it can very well be interpreted into his absurdism. Because the world makes us free, one is free to find their own meanings and to make their own goals, but if once the goal is reached, they can't see an inch beyond it, they have failed to actually confront absurdity and have just been hanging onto a single thread, hoping something other than themselves would carry them through life.

(Sourced from @lunamatista who I consulted with for the majority of this). 

#tg meta #meta #albert camus #sisyphus #philosophy #akihiro kanou #kaneki ken #furuta nimura

[ontowanderlust]

Sixth Kiss: On the neck/ The night he got accidentally drunk

Note: This started off as a gag fiction for my friend who abhors kisses and mushy stuff. I had a great pleasure of writing the seven part series of this for him (he hated it which is why he refused to read it up until this day) and now I had decided to recreate the seven part series for my blog as well starring Peter Pan from Once Upon A Time. Though I had written the gag story as a Hogwarts AU, this one will be purely OUAT verse.

This is a Cursed! Peter x Reader which takes place during the first curse or the first season of OUAT. Yes, Peter was swept by the curse and so is the reader.

Just a little bit of a background, Reader is the Princess of Underworld and her story is that she was born because she was prophesied to do something (it is an on-going story of mine in ffnet although in that version, Peter Pan isn’t really her love interest). In this version, she and Pan had already met couple of times in Enchanted Forest and well….*shrugs*

This is the sixth part of the Seven Kisses series. As I’ve said, there will be seven parts for this series. All seven has different body parts kissed. (As you may have observed.) Only one more kiss left before I officially close this series. Damn...  

Prompt: Sixth kiss: On the neck/ The night he got accidentally drunk

Is this what it feels like?

You couldn’t help but swing your dangling legs as you let your thoughts consume you tonight. After all, you were used to not sleeping due to too many thoughts swirling through your head. 

Although, this time, you could say that there is a specific person occupying your thoughts these past few days and you couldn’t help but overthink whatever his intentions were. 

Peter had always been known as the most popular boy in school and he’s got a bunch of silly followers and a right hand man. Girls swoon whenever he is in the vicinity. All throughout your high school years, you couldn’t think of a single moment where he was interested in you before, nor any interaction between the two of you. 

It was only when Henry had told you his theory and well, introduced you to him, that’s where everything started unraveling. 

You’ve never had a boyfriend before, much less a friend. The only people you converse with were Archie and little Henry and hell will freeze over if you ever decide to talk to them about relationship problems. You could always ask Ruby but your relationship with her was nothing more than acquaintances who talk to each other if they only need something. 

You sighed as you made your way to the edge and jumped towards the low hanging ledge, deciding to head home for the night. Your feet are almost touching the ground when your phone went off, making you lose your footing, falling to the ground ungracefully. 

You groaned as you checked your phone only to frown at the unknown number flashing your screen. Who would want to call you at- you checked the time- midnight? 

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” a gruff voice greeted you, making your frown deeper. “Y/N? It’s Felix. How fast can you come to the Rabbit Hole?”

“Felix?” you asked, still reeling at the thought of Felix calling you for... a drink? “Why-”

“Don’t ask,” he huffed. “Just get your ass out here, Peter needs you.” And with that, he ended the call to which made you huff in annoyance but still made your way to the Rabbit Hole, ignoring the pain on your shoulder. 

"I dare you to do something... grown up.” your eyes lit with mischief as a flash of horror danced upon Peter’s eyes, his jaw clenching at your dare.

Because you were partially mortal, Thanatos had made it to the point that you would be educated with everything that has been going around in the last few centuries so as you would not be ignorant with that world should you escape your father’s grasp. And since Thanatos had recently visited the mortal realm, he had learned of such silly game and decided to teach you how to play it and now that your father had left for some unsettled debt, you decided to grab the opportunity and paid a little imp some visit. 

And since it was Peter, you were playing against, you had given him your deepest and darkest secrets as well as did such revolting dares as well. It was only logical you play fire with fire and managed to turn Peter’s weakness around himself. 

“This is a stupid game, Camryn.” he blurted out, his cold tone sent chills down your spine. Normally, people would cower when Peter uses that tone of his but you stood your ground. After all, you’ve spent your lifetime around your temperamental father, who is one of the coldest persons you’ve ever known. “I don’t wanna play anymore.”

You let out a smug smile. “Well, would you look at that.” your tone is mocking and you can’t help but note the dark glint Peter had in his eyes. “I managed to beat Pan in a game.” you slowly said as if the realization is sinking in, baiting him to do your dare. 

You know it’s a risk that might cost you dearly but you had rationalized that this is mere payback for what Peter had put you through with that game.

“I wouldn’t count this as a victory, Camryn.” he glared at you as you raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to do his worst as he stepped towards you.

“Oh but I think it is a victory, Pan.” you smugly told him, purposely using his dislike of the fact that you are using his damned name rather than the name he only allowed you to call him. “After all, the rules state that-”

Your eyes widen at the contact of his cool lips on your jaw, flinching as he left scorching hot trail of kisses all the way down on your neck where he slightly nipped at the skin before pulling back from you, smirk adorning his lips at the sight of your frozen form. 

“What...” you couldn’t help but berate yourself silently at the effect he had on you. “...was that?” you asked breathlessly as you watched Peter shrug. 

“That, Princess, is me doing your dare. Now, I believe it’s my turn?” he asked as if nothing happened between the two of you. “Truth or dare, Your highness?” 

Swallowing, you braced yourself for the worst. “Truth.” It didn’t help when Peter’s smirk grew wide. 

“Alright tell me, just what are your feelings towards me?”

You heaved out a deep sigh as your eyes feasted at the sight of Felix single-handedly carrying Peter towards your room, plopping him down on your bed.

“What...” you asked breathlessly as you crouched down to check on the inebriated boy. “...Did he- is he drunk?” you shook yourself out of shock as Felix muttered colorful words before answering you. 

“Bastard went to the bar to look for the guy who had almost caused you trouble, there’s this asshole who had given us something to drink, the next thing I knew, he’s drunk his ass of.” Felix recounted, making your eyebrows furrow with how absurd the story is, ignoring the butterflies your stomach is experiencing.

“So you’re saying he accidentally got drunk?” you almost shriek to which Felix flinched at. 

“Watch your tone, shadow.” Felix sneered. “The only reason I’m tolerating you is because he only answers to you. Bastard doesn’t even want to leave until I called you.”

You sighed, pinching your nose in the process to stop a mild headache from coming before looking back at Felix who had his back turned on you. “Hey, you can’t just leave me here with him!” you called out to him, making him groan in annoyance.

“Actually, I can.” Felix snapped. “After all, I endured this whole thing just because of you and your tendency to get in trouble. So it’s only fitting to leave him to your care.” he said as he reached the door. “Besides, he never listens to anyone. Why do you think I called you?” And with that, he left you on your own to tend to his friend. 

You looked back at Peter’s peaceful form as you plopped resignedly beside him, brushing his fallen fringe to the side as you contemplated on taking care of him or just rudely leaving him to his own. Knowing he passed out cold, you began rambling about anything just so you could settle the butterflies in your stomach. 

Talking has always been something you do whenever you are unsettled by something. Usually, Henry would be the receiving end of your rants but he was caught up with spending time with his mom. 

“You shouldn’t have gone back, Peter.” you told him even if you knew you’re as good as talking to a statue. You don’t know how this boy had wormed his way to your life but with what happened tonight, you were certain of just how much this boy means so much to you. “Is this what it feels like?” you muttered as you continually played with his hair, disturbing him in his dream. “You frustrate me with your constant hovering, you give me thrill, you make me come out of my shell. Is this what it feels like?” 

"Feels like what?” 

You jumped at the sound of his delirious voice, not noticing how close you two were. You hovered slightly above his form, looking for any signs of discomfort or any symptoms a drunk boy should have and found nothing. 

Instead, he lifted his arm, running his finger through your hair, descending to your cheek, giving it a soft caress before tracing your jaw. “Y/N...” he muttered as he reached up, trailing kisses from you jaw, down to your neck, nipping the skin slightly before he dropped back down to your bed as if nothing happened. 

You were frozen in your position, everything happened so fast that it left you in shock as your gaze fell on the boy before you. It shouldn’t be a big deal anymore seeing as he had given you four kisses already. 

Deep down, you knew why you were fazed by this kiss. You knew that this one... this one had definitely something written all over it. 

And for the first time, you knew that you are definitely looking forward for that something to happen. 

#Cursed! AU OUAT #OUAT imagine #OUAT #Peter Pan OUAT #Peter Pan imagine #Peter Pan x Reader #Peter Pan OUAT imagine #Robbie Kay imagine #Seven Kisses series #Sixth Kiss

[purple-urself]

Dream A Little Dream

My first Clovis x Nico fanfic, because I love this ship so much.

For @percy-potter-sideblog, thank you for urging me to write this <3

Day 2/7 of the @lgbtqpjo 3k celebration.

“Since returning to camp and trying to find some semblance of normalcy again, Nico’s physical health had dramatically increased thanks to Solace’s constant badgering and berating. What hadn’t gotten any better over the past few months however, was his sleeping habits, and more specifically, his dreams.“

A03

“Clovis… Are you sure about this?” Nico asked the boy in front of him, who was staring intensely. People say Nico had a weird aura, but he personally thought it was nothing compared to the aura that surrounded children of Hypnos.

“I offered didn’t I?” Clovis replied, not breaking eye contact even as he stifled a yawn. “Besides, your doctor recommended I help you with your dreams.”

“Please don’t call him my doctor, it’ll only encourage him.”

“Encouraging him to help you is something I actively do, Nico.”

And boy, wasn’t that the truth. Since returning to camp and trying to find some semblance of normalcy again, Nico’s physical health had dramatically increased thanks to Solace’s constant badgering and berating. What hadn’t gotten any better over the past few months however, was his sleeping habits, and more specifically, his dreams.

Bad dreams for demigods were a usual experience. Most campers had their fair share of gruesome nightmares ending in pain and misery. But most campers hadn’t actually met the Goddess of misery and lived to talk about it. Most campers hadn’t walked through a place worse than Hell only to be captured by the enemy and stuffed into a jar. Most campers hadn’t stretched their powers so far they were literally fading from reality.  

But Nico had done those things. His body may have healed, but his mind certainly hadn’t.

For the first few weeks after returning to camp, he kept his mouth shut about his nightly trauma, firmly believing that the nightmares would go away on their own.

They didn’t.

After a few weeks of little to no sleep, Nico could barely function enough to join in with camp activities. It got to the point where Solace dragged him to the infirmary to give him a check up. Nico still refused to tell the wannabe doctor about his night terrors.

It wasn’t until Clovis practically dragged him into the Hypnos cabin did he actually admit he may have had a bit of a problem. Clovis pushed him down onto one of the many cloud-like bunks, and simply told him ‘Sleep.’

He was out for 26 hours.

Clovis had made sure he, or one of his siblings, was always present to block the bad dreams, and although Nico was angry at first, he was grateful for the respite from the horror of his subconscious.

Since then, Clovis had made it his personal mission to help Nico block the dreams. Because of this, Nico had taken up residence in the Hypnos cabin for the foreseeable future, sleeping like a log every night thanks to Clovis and his siblings.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, it was Clovis’ turn to trade cabins. The son of Hypnos had insisted that blocking bad dreams was only a temporary fix, that in time, blocking his inner most fears would cause him more pain than do him good. Clovis told him that he’d eventually have to face the horror he’d experienced at the hands of the giants.

Nico thought it was bullshit.

Clovis didn’t care.

“Nico.” He heard the other boy murmur. “You spaced out, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He insisted. Clovis hummed under his breath, but didn’t say anything more. It was times like these Nico wished he knew what the other was thinking. Clovis was a bit of an oddball, but he was also incredibly intelligent when it came to the Gods and their powers. He was one of the first people to work out what was going on when the Gods were stuck between their Greek and Roman forms. Clovis also had the power to gaze upon the Gods as he slept, something that frankly terrified Nico. Who wanted to see Ares take a shower?

“C’mon we should get to my cabin before curfew.” Nico suggested, turning away from Clovis’ intense stare. The boy trailed after him silently. After spending so much time with the son of Hypnos, his presence was familiar to Nico, maybe even a bit comforting.

They reached the cabin, and Nico let himself in, holding the door for his companion. Clovis looked curiously around the room, probably noting the fact it resembled a vampire’s lair. The coffins had been replaced by actual beds, but Nico hadn’t gotten around to altering anything else about the decor, leaving the cabin not nearly as comfortable looking, nor as welcoming as the Hypnos cabin.

“Sorry about the…” Nico gestured towards the assortment skeleton themed ornaments around the room, but Clovis just shook his head.

“That’s alright. I’m not uncomfortable around things related to death, my Father lives in the underworld, you know?”

“I… didn’t know that actually.” Nico told him, surprised.

“He likes the peace and quiet down there. Way less noisy than on Olympus.”

True enough, Nico thought.

The two boys got ready for bed, Clovis not having to do much since he practically lives in his pajamas.

Nico climbed into his own bunk for the first time in what seemed like forever, Clovis standing beside him.

“Are you ready?” The blond asked, and Nico could already feel his eyes beginning to close.

“Mhhmm.” He intoned his agreement, and felt Clovis’ soft hand brush across his forehead, before falling into unconsciousness

The smell was what hit him first. The stench of burning charcoal and rotting flesh permeated the air, nearly causing him to gag. He opened his eyes, blinking at the desolate mist surrounding him. He was laying on his side, his body screaming in pain. Broken ribs, shattered wrist, bruises all over his body. Familiar injuries, and no less painful that the last time his brain had recreated them in his sleep.

The dreams weren’t all like this; some would revisit his meeting with Misery, others would have him fading out of reality, no one knowing or caring about his absence. All of them did the same thing though. They terrified him.

He was laying in the dirt of Tartarus, with no chance of survival. No help would come. No knight in shining armor would rescue him this time.

Everything hurt, and the fog surrounding him was getting thicker by the second. The repulsive smell was clogging up his airways, sticking to the back of his throat causing him to cough and splutter, which only made his injuries hurt more.

His breaths came out in short pants, not able to do much more. He was suffocating. He was dying.

“Nico.”

His name was spoke softly, juxtaposing his surroundings so vividly he almost wept.

“Nico, look at me.”

He turned his head slowly, and yet the pain was still so immense he nearly lost consciousness. As his eyes focused again, they came to rest on a familiar looking boy; round features, soft hair, kind eyes. The boy sat beside him, watching him closely.

“Clovis.”

And just like that, he remembered.

He wasn’t in Tartarus anymore. Clovis was here. Clovis would help him.

“Clovis… please.” He began to say, sputtering at the fog entering his lungs. “Help me.”

Clovis looked sad at his words, staring down at him with those navy blue eyes.

“I can’t Nico. I can’t help you.”

Can’t? Nico wanted to yell, what did he mean can’t? Clovis seemed to understand his thoughts, because he continued.

“This is your dream Nico. Your challenge to overcome. I helped you block these nightmares so you would regain the strength you had lost, but now you have that strength back, you must fight them with all you have.”

Nico trembled at his words. Fight? There was no fighting this place. No human should ever step foot here. No human had ever committed a crime so terrible to deserve the fate he’d chosen for himself.

Soon, the giants would find him. They would force him to drink from the river Phlegethon, and then stuff him in that godforsaken jar. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Hey,” Clovis caught his hand, dragging his thoughts back to the present. “I’m not asking you to fight the war again, or even to fight the monsters you faced when you were down here. I’m asking you to fight the dream.”

Again, the son of Hypnos has seemingly read his mind, and Nico wondered if they had some sort of telepathic connection here.

“How?” Nico rasped.

Clovis looked at him fondly, and Nico felt his chest twinge in a different way.

“You’ve met me in dreams before Nico, what have we done those times?”

Nico felt his lips twitching at the memories of taking Clovis around 1930’s Venice, or hanging out with him in central park on a summer’s day.

The other boy’s eyes sparkled with amusement, probably knowing what Nico was thinking about.

‘You did that’ Nico tried to communicate through his thoughts instead of having to talk.

“Did I?” Clovis asks, humming at the thought. “I suppose I may have contributed a fair amount to our little outings together, but a lot of it was you. Do you think I could have recreated Venice in the 1930’s? Or the memory of your favorite ice-cream flavor? No, that was all you.”

Nico hadn’t really thought about it before, but he supposed that made sense. His memories had influenced both of their dreams, even though he couldn’t actually control them.

“Ahh, now you’re getting it.” Clovis told him, smiling. It wasn’t often the other boy outright smiled, and Nico felt a swell of pride at seeing it. “Remember how it feels to be in camp, running after Percy, or fighting Jason. Remember how your body feels when it’s at it’s peek, full of energy and life. Remember how it feels to stand at the ocean and breath the clean air. You have to remember.

At his words, the memories of Camp came flooding back to him. He remembers batting Solace’s hand’s away, insisting he’s fine, because this time he actually is. He remembers shadow traveling across the dining pavilion to grab an apple and not feeling nauseous afterwards. He remembers waking up one morning in the Hypnos cabin, only to find a sleeping Clovis passed out next to him. He remembers watching the boy, not really sure why, other than the fact that he could. He remembers it all, and he gulps in steady breaths of clean air as his pain vanishes.

He scrambles to sit up, immediately checking over his body for the injuries he had felt mere seconds ago. But they weren’t there.

He looks to Clovis, who has a light blush on his face, and is smiling fondly at him. Nico flushes in embarrassment as he remembers the last thought he had before his miraculous recovery.

“You did it.” Clovis congratulates him softly. Only then does he realize they aren’t in Tartarus anymore.

The hard dirty ground of Tartarus had been replaced by soft sheets, the disgusting stench was now subtle hints of lavender. They were in the Hypnos cabin back at camp.

“Are we still dreaming?” Nico asked in a hushed voice, even though the cabin was empty.

“Yes.” Clovis said gently.

Nico nods, letting out a huge sigh, face in his hands. That was intense, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He felt like he could sleep for a week, and yet, he was already sleeping.

“Why do you think us Hypnos kids sleep all the time?” Clovis chuckled, and Nico realized the other boy could still hear his thoughts.

“It’s because in the physical world, I’m touching you right now.” Clovis answered his unasked question with a grin, and Nico felt himself beginning to blush.

“You’re sleeping with me in my bed?!” He asked, panicking a little.

Clovis laughs again, shaking his head.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just sitting beside the bed, holding your hand.”

Oh. That must be uncomfortable, Nico thinks.

“I’ve slept in weirder places, believe me.”

“Stop doing that.” Nico tells him, not wanting the other to delve too deeply into his mind.

“Then we should wake up.”

Before Nico could say another word, he finds himself blinking awake in his own cabin, a warmth engulfing his left hand. He looks to the side of the bed, finding a very sleepy Clovis blinking up at him.

It only takes a second of indecision, before Nico is pulling the other boy into bed. Clovis looks shocked at the event unfolding, before shrugging and closing his eyes without a single word.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sleeping beauty, this is a onetime thing.” Nico tells his new bed-mate gruffly, before settling down himself, very careful not to touch the child of Hypnos.

And if they they wake up spooning together, well, no one is there to prove it. 

#nico di angelo #clovis #clico #lgbtqpjo3kweek #pjo #my fic

[aion-rsa]

How the System Shock Remake Modernizes a PC Gaming Classic

https://ift.tt/3gcgfWv

When LookingGlass Technologies’ System Shock released in 1994, few people knew what to make of it. It was a first-person game with action and guns, but it most certainly wasn’t a first-person shooter like Doom, which had been released less than a year before System Shock. It featured navigation and level design similar to games like Ultima Underworld, but it wasn’t necessarily an RPG in most respects. While System Shock received quite a bit of praise from critics and players who took a chance on it, but it wasn’t exactly revered as a game-changer or considered a major hit at the time. In fact, LookingGlass lost money on the game.

But not long after System Shock’s release, a new breed of games began to emerge, PC titles that were clearly inspired by its innovations. Titles like Thief and Half-Life, both released in 1998, expanded on System Shock‘s emergent gameplay and first-person storytelling. Other games, such as 2000’s Deus Ex, were largely re-imaginings of the System Shock formula. By the time BioShock arrived in 2007, a “Shock” game was a bit easier to define. In fact, imagine playing BioShock in 1994 and you’ll have a pretty good idea why System Shock is typically referred to as a game ahead of its time.

Even in that respect, the case of System Shock has always been a strange one. Because so many of the games that followed in System Shock’s footsteps went on to become more successful (at least in terms of sales), there are times when System Shock is remembered more for the games it inspired than LookingGlass’ original experience. That’s a legacy that Nightdive Studios, the team behind the upcoming System Shock remake, is well aware of.

“The original System Shock was a ground-breaking experience that inspired a generation of amazing games and developers, though, today, it’s been largely forgotten,” says Stephen Kick, CEO and founder of Nightdive Studios, who spoke to Den of Geek via email. “One of the driving motivations of developing this remake was to expand the reach of the original.”

Nightdive Studios’ desire to bring System Shock into the modern age shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. After all, Nightdive was founded as part of an effort to re-release System Shock 2 for modern platforms, and the studio has spent most of the last eight years restoring and re-releasing classic games such as The 7th Guest, Doom 64, and even the original System Shock.

It was actually Nightdive’s work on an enhanced version of the original System Shock that convinced the team that the game deserved something more substantial.

“After we recovered the source code of the original and implemented mouselook and high-resolution support in the Enhanced Edition, we began to feel that underneath the complex and sometimes obtuse control scheme was a one-of-a-kind game,” Kick says. “[It was] something special that truly deserved to be revisited.”

While System Shock was indeed something special in 1994, its innovations may feel familiar to younger generations who take certain gameplay mechanics for granted in 2020. That means Nightdive has to answer a tricky question: how do you make System Shock feel special again for a new audience 26 years later?

“One of the constant struggles has been finding a balance between what the original did and what 20 plus years of game development and innovation have taught us,” Kick says. “System Shock was one of the first games that offered players a non-linear experience in a fully 3D world. It also allowed the player to customize the difficulty level of the various challenges they faced independently from one another, introducing an innovative system that to my knowledge has never been replicated…We knew that if we stayed true to the original and introduced modern conventions and mechanics that today’s audience expects that we could deliver an authentic Shock experience.”

Read more

Games

How Amnesia Brought Horror out of the Action Era

By Matthew Byrd

Movies

The Matrix 4 Already Happened: Revisiting The Matrix Online

By John Saavedra

Defining what constitutes an authentic System Shock experience seems to be the key to successfully remaking the original game. Despite a legion of imitators that have come and gone, there are still elements of the original System Shock which remain relatively unique to it. For instance, System Shock was much more mechanically complex than many of its spiritual successors (and its official sequel) — certain weapons and ammunition dealt specific types of damage to specific enemies while “dermal” patches found in the game offered perks but also buffs to your character. The game also focused less on stats and other traditional character building elements in favor of a system where players collected “hardware” upgrades throughout the game.

Yet, when asked what element of the original System Shock (and the System Shock series) best defines it and separates it from everything else out there, Kick offers a clear and confident answer: “I believe it’s SHODAN.”

“I’ve played just about every game that can credit its lineage to System Shock and I can’t think of one that has an antagonist as diabolical or even remotely as memorable as her,” Kick says. “Even when she’s not directly interacting with you, she’s there. Security cameras are whirring and spying on you, Citadel Station creaks and moans as she alters and modifies the structure to her will, the pipes hiss and hum as she infects every system. She’s always there and the environment feels alive even when you’re surrounded by death.”

For those who don’t know, SHODAN was the primary antagonist of the original System Shock. Actually, she’s much more than that. As an advanced A.I. hellbent on wiping out humanity, SHODAN may sound like a pretty standard villain, but she’s actually a somewhat tragic figure whose plans are largely based on her desire to find a place where she belongs and gain some understanding of her own existence. As noted above, her omnipresent nature often casts her into the role of a constant companion. And it’s not uncommon for System Shock players to become attached to SHODAN despite her hostilities.

Kick attributes some of the effectiveness of SHODAN as a character to the work of the actress who voiced her.

“You can’t talk about SHODAN without mentioning the work of Terri Brosius who lends her voice to the character,” Kick says. “Her voice is absolutely chilling and the intermittent clicks, pops, and distortions that permeate her lines sink deep into your subconscious. It’s been over 20 years since we’ve heard her and she’s still one of the most quoted antagonists in gaming…We’ve heard samples of new SHODAN lines and the individual blips, stutters, and noise have been meticulously considered and handcrafted to preserve her iconic voice.”

It may sound odd for a modern studio to highlight things like “clicks, pops, and distortions,” but that’s another element that has always helped define System Shock. It was, especially in terms of sound, an ugly game. Voices were often distorted in such a way that not only accurately reflected the condition of the game’s audio logs but enhanced the level of dread. Like the recent hit Amazon film The Vast of Night, it used antiquated audio techniques to more effectively convey the uncertainty of a bizarre event.

It’s certainly tempting to call System Shock’s audio quality a by-product of an era when such complex sound design was in its infancy. To be fair, there is some truth to that. While that may cause many to list the sound design as one of those aspects of the original game most in need of a modern makeover, Nightdive recognizes that System Shock was filled with rough edges which were ultimately part of its grand design.

“There has been a very conscious effort to preserve that ‘rawness’ from the beginning,'” Kick says. “We knew that we wanted the art style and overall aesthetics to call back to the original so we developed a technique where if you get close enough to objects that the textures break down all the way to their individual pixels.

“This was by design so that from far to medium distances, the visuals look high fidelity with full PBR material support. But, when you get close up, it resembles the retro aesthetic. It adds a really beautiful texture and grit to everything that has become a unique feature specific to our game. It was important that when you looked at a screenshot of System Shock next to a number of other games you’d be able to identify it immediately.”

While the game’s art style helps preserve key elements of the System Shock experience, there are other ways in which advancements in technology have helped Nightdive bring some of the PC classic’s ugliness to life in ways that just weren’t possible in 1994.

“Visually, one of my goals was to realize the true horror of what occurred once SHODAN assumed control of Citadel,” Kick says. At the start of the original game, you wake up from a coma to find that the self-aware AI has turned a once-prosperous space station into a grotesque nightmare.

“Every creature, mutant, and monster you encountered was once an innocent crew member who was reshaped and modified with child-like curiosity by a near-omniscient being, and I made it a priority to explore that using the tools and technology at our disposal. Some of the things we’ve created are nauseating and downright disturbing.”

Read more

Games

Death Stranding and Metal Gear Solid Artist Yoji Shinkawa on Creating Iconic Video Game Art

By Bernard Boo

Games

Half-Life: The Origin and Return of the G-Man

By John Saavedra

As important as it was for Nightdive to retain and enhance certain System Shock qualities, the team also recognized that there are parts of the original game that simply don’t work as well now.

Consider those aforementioned audio logs, for instance. In 1994, it was shocking to think that a game could tell the bulk of its story through found audio. In 2020, Kick rightfully notes that such a storytelling technique has become “cliched and even parodied due to overuse.” Still, Kick describes those audio logs as being “quintessentially System Shock” due to the way that they “become somber reminders of the consequences of your actions.” As such, the team considers them irreplaceable.

That desire to retain the spirit of an idea while recognizing that the idea itself doesn’t necessarily work as originally intended resulted in Nightdive coming up with an elegant solution.

“The problem we faced was that the audio logs were placed so close together that you were constantly finding them and the length of each VO recording was not only slowing the player down, but they were overlapping,” Kick explains. “While you were listening to one audio log, you’d have already found another and that became very cumbersome. It was an easy fix, but we had to space them farther apart from one another to find a good balance. We’ve also re-written the logs to be a bit shorter and more concise with the information they convey.”

Audio logs are hardly the only way in which System Shock utilized design elements that were both technically outdated yet oddly essential to its core experience. There’s perhaps no better example of that contradiction than the game’s learning curve. System Shock was, in many ways, designed to be intentionally confusing and sometimes even frustrating. You weren’t meant to just blast through the game like a shooter, and mastery of its mechanics, interface, and controls demanded time and patience from the player.

While Nightdive has addressed one of those frustrating elements (its confounding controls, which were rooted in the era of primitive 3D exploration) without diluting that “hardcore” spirit of the original experience, there’s at least one other contradictory aspect of the original game that has raised difficult questions about the line between preservation and modernization.

“The level design is probably the worst offender,” Kick says of System Shock’s flaws. “Its labyrinthian design is archaic, but it’s undeniably System Shock.”

System Shock’s Metroidvania-like level design encouraged players to explore an expansive area in search of the way forward, but it was also often unnecessarily confusing. That typically resulted in the player running around without a clear sense of where they were, where they were going, and what they were supposed to be doing.

As frustrating as those parts of System Shock could often be, Kick suggests that our perception of System Shock’s learning curve may have as much to do with an overall change to how we look at games as well as how the game itself was designed.

“You should feel like a rat running through a maze under the watchful glare of a rogue artificial intelligence constantly testing you and obstructing your progress with her other experiments,” Kick says. “Contemporary games often hold your hand and direct you to the next objective with breadcrumbs or waypoints, removing the sense of dread, isolation, and relief you feel when you discover the exit. We’ve received some negative feedback about the level design, but it’s System Shock, so it stays.”

That philosophy not only captures why Nightdive is the perfect studio to revive System Shock but why there are so many who believe that System Shock is one of those pieces of PC gaming history which deserves a remake despite the fear that it won’t live up to memories of the original.

Even if you’ve never tried it, you may feel like you’ve played System Shock because you’ve played games like it. But you really haven’t. From its ambiguous philosophical nature to its brilliant antagonist and haunting cyberpunk aesthetics, only System Shock is System Shock.

While other games may have come along and evolved the System Shock formula, Nightdive is determined to ensure that future generations will never forget one of the PC titles that changed the medium forever.

“BioShock, Thief, Dishonored, Deus Ex, Prey, they all owe their existence to [System] Shock so, in that regard, we were not only motivated, but we were compelled to expand its reach as a way of honoring its legacy and the groundwork it laid for not only other games but the developers of those games,” Kick says. “So, no, I don’t believe that modern gamers are aware of how many video game concepts were introduced or refined by System Shock, but if we do our job right, hopefully they will be.”

System Shock is coming to Xbox One, PlayStation 4, and PC in 2020. You can download the Alpha Demo of the game on Steam and GOG now.

The post How the System Shock Remake Modernizes a PC Gaming Classic appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/331IRhH

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[gyrlversion]

Gambino crime boss shook hitmans hand before he was shot and killed

Cops have taken a 24-year-old construction worker into custody for the killing of Gambino crime family boss Francesco ‘Franky Boy’ Cali.  

US Marshals apprehended Anthony Comello from his Brick, New Jersey home on Saturday morning and he’s expected to face murder charges for the brutal killing, NYPD announced in a press conference Saturday.  

Comello, originally from Staten Island, is believed to have no ties to the mob himself – with initial reports indicating cops think the murder was the work of a lovesick madman.

His dispute with Cali may have stemmed from the mob boss’s refusal to let Comello date his niece, who was inside the home when Cali was gunned down outside, a police source told the Daily Beast.

Comello worked odd construction jobs has been described as ‘a complete nut’ and as a ‘conspiracy theory type’, various sources say. 

Anthony Comello, 24, was arrested on Saturday in New Jersey in connection with the murder of Gambino crime boss Francesco ‘Franky Boy’ Cali

Comello is not a mobster and is believed to have killed Cali in a dispute over a woman

Comello was arrested on Saturday from his Brick, New Jersey home and is currently in New Jersey jail 

Crime scene investigators discovered a stash of weapons while searching Comello’s Staten Island home on Saturday, sources told WCBS-TV. 

Comello claimed he was high on marijuana and was acting in self defense because Cali had a gun, but the sources say police have so far found no evidence to confirm that claim. 

Police say Comello has a limited criminal history, including a parking ticket he got on Staten Island on the day of the murder. 

He’s currently being held in a New Jersey jail and police are are investigating to see if others were involved in the crime. 

On Saturday a pick-up truck matching one sighted at the crime scene and belonging to Comello was also recovered by police.   

Police were led to the suspect after finding a finger print on the license plate of Cali’s silver Escalade, which had fallen from the vehicle after the killer crashed into his car. 

In surveillance footage of the murder, a man can be seen handing the plate back to him before opening fire.

Comello is expected to be charged with the murder, NYPD Chief of Detectives Dermot Shea said in a press conference on Saturday.

Shea also added that Cali’s mafia ties are still being considered in the investigation. 

Police haven’t yet determined a specific motive and are working to see if Comello was working alone or was hired to carry out the killing. 

It’s not yet clear whether Comello has a criminal history. 

‘While we believe we have the shooter in custody in this incident, the investigation is far from over,’ Shea said.

The murder weapon, a 9mm pistol, has not yet been recovered. 

Staten Island man Anthony Comello, 24, (above) is the suspect behind the vicious killing of mobster Francesco ‘Franky Boy’ Cali’ on Wednesday, marking the first assassination of a New York mob boss in 33 years 

The murder of Gambino crime family boss Frank Cali has stoked fears that the Mafia may be returning to New York City after more than three decades of peace. Cali, 53, was seen shaking hands with his killer moments before being shot dead

Police were led to the suspect after finding a finger print on the license plate of Cali’s silver Escalade (above), which had fallen from the vehicle after the killer crashed into his car 

The deadly interaction was captured in full from a surveillance camera installed at Cali’s Staten Island mansion.

The 53-year-old can be seen heading out the front door of his home on the evening of March 13, after a blue pickup truck reversed forcefully into his stationary Cadillac Escalade.

The footage – which had to be obtained by a warrant – shows Cali and the man engaging in a conversation, before shaking hands.

The man then passes Cali a licence plate that had fallen off his Escalade.

But as the crime boss turns his back to place the plate in the trunk of his car, the hitman, believed to be between 25 and 40-years-old, unsheathes a 9mm pistol and opens fire.

The 53-year-old can be seen heading out the front door of his home on the evening of March 13, after a blue pickup truck reversed heavily into his stationary Cadillac Escalade

Cali’s home in the Todt Hill neighborhood of Staten Island is pictured

‘It’s not like they came out, started a fistfight,’ a police source told the New York Post. ‘The importance of that is — it’s almost as if proof of the concept that hitting the car was contrived.

‘It doesn’t look like there was any rage.’

The gunman pulled the trigger 12 times, striking Cali at least six.

Attempting the flee the onslaught of bullets, Cali tried to hide beneath his car, which initially led investigators to believe he’d been run over in the hit.

But on Friday, the city’s Medical Examiner’s Office determined he had died from several gunshot wounds.

Family members poured out of the house. ‘Papa! Papa!’ wailed one man before lying on the grass, sobbing.

Investigators with the NYPD were forced to obtain a warrant to review the surveillance video, after the victim’s relatives’ were allegedly unwillling to comply with the probe.

And on Thursday, authorities descended on the home in abundance, collecting cellphones, laptops and other digital devices to help aid their search for Cali’s killer.

Investigators are seen with forensic equipment outside the Cali’s home on Thursday 

Cali’s murder is the first hit on a Mafia boss since John Gotti arranged the assassination of then-Gambino head Paul Castellano outside a Manhattan steakhouse in 1985

Cali’s murder is the first hit on a Mafia boss since John ‘Dapper Don’ Gotti arranged the assassination of then-Gambino head Paul Castellano in 1985.

‘We thought those days were over,’ Mayor Bill de Blasio said of the slaying. ‘Very surprising, but I guess old habits die hard.’

For Cali’s slaying, the police were previously thought to be considering Gene Gotti, John’s younger brother, who was released from prison after 29 years just six-months ago.

One of the theories apparently under consideration is that Gotti, 72, is possibly trying to assert his authority over the Gambino crime family, but so far, he has not been named a suspect, or even a person of interest.

His older brother had assumed control of the criminal organization after ordering the assassination of his predecessor, Paul Castellano, outside a Manhattan steakhouse in 1985.

John Gotti stood at the helm of the Gambino family until his conviction on murder, racketeering and conspiracy charges in 1992. He died in prison of cancer in 2002.

For Cali’s slaying, the police are thought to be turning their attention to Gene Gotti (above), John’s younger brother, who was released from prison after 29 years in September

Cali kept a much lower profile than John Gotti (above) and was killed in far less spectacular fashion than Paul Castellano, who was gunned down outside a Manhattan steakhouse in 1085

Gotti was convicted in Castellano’s murder and a multitude of other crimes in 1992

Cali, who had close ties to Sicilian mafia, was believed to have taken the reigns of the criminal enterprise in 2015.

Cali’s only mob-related criminal conviction came a decade ago, when he pleaded guilty in an extortion scheme involving a failed attempt to build a NASCAR track on Staten Island. He was sentenced to 16 months behind bars and was released in 2009.

In that case, authorities intercepted conversations shedding light on his quiet underworld command. At a 2008 bail hearing, a prosecutor said Cali was seen ‘as a man of influence and power by organized crime members in Italy.’

Mafia heir Giovanni Gambino told DailyMail.com that 53-year-old ‘Franky Boy’ was a constant feature in the New York charity scene and was someone he looked up to growing up.

‘Nobody gets away with anything’, warned Mafia heir Giovanni Gambino (left)

Former Gambino hitman John Alite, who has confessed to involvement in several murders, believes that retribution is inevitable

‘He was the good wise guy that went after bad wise guys’, Giovanni told DailyMailcom. ‘The wise guy that showed class. He was the one that had the ‘it’ factor, growing up with my friends. We all looked up to him. He gave a great impression.’

‘Nobody gets away with anything . Especially killing a good man,’ he added.

Former Gambino hitman John Alite, who has confessed to involvement in several murders, believes that retribution is inevitable.

If this is still the Mafia, that guy’s got to get killed that did the shooting,’ said Alite, 56, to USA Today.

‘And anybody that helped them. Anybody who was associated with this murder, whether it was mob related or not, a couple of guys got to get killed now.’

1985 MOB HIT ON GAMBINO BOSS PAUL CASTELLANO

Frank Cali’s murder is the first hit on a Mafia boss since John Gotti arranged the assassination of then-Gambino head ‘Big Paul’ Castellano – outside Sparks Steakhouse – in 1985.

The notorious assasination saw Castellano, 70, and his underboss Thomas Bilotti, 47, both shot in the face by a three-man hit squad just after the two victims had stepped out of their car.

Castellano’s reign as kingpin had begun in 1976 after the death of Carlo Gambino.

The Gambinos were the most powerful of the five families of the New York City mafia and worth an estimated $500 million a year.  

Gambino capo John Gotti (left) was part of a three-man hit squad that shot Mafia kingpin Paul Castellano (right) outside a steakhouse in 1985

Big Paul was made boss instead of the likely heir, the then-underboss Aniello Dellacroce – a decision which annoyed those loyal to Dellacroce.

They were further enraged by Castellano’s insistence on living as a recluse in his mansion in Todt Hill, Staten Island, which earned him the moniker, ‘the Howard Huges of the Mob’.

When Dellacroce died of cancer in 1985, Castellano disrepected the Family by not attending the funeral.

The final nail in his coffin was when he made Capo Thomas Bilotti his underboss.

John Gotti, who had been loyal to Dellacroce and didn’t think Castellano was worthy of being the Don, and the irate Gambinos then decided to whack Castellano.

At the time, Castellano had been on trial in Manhattan federal court on racketeering charges involving three murders and an international stolen car ring but the trial was in recess.

On December 15, 1985 Gotti and the Dellacroce devised a plan to assassinate Castellano and Bilotti – by luring the boss to a meeting at Sparks Steakhouse on 210 E. 46th St., between Second and Third Avenues.

The scene of the crime. Big Paul was made boss instead of the likely heir, the then-underboss Aniello Dellacroce – a decision which annoyed those loyal to Dellacroce

The bodies of Castellano and Bilotti  lay in a pool of blood after they were gunned down outside Sparks steakhouse in Manhattan

At around 5.30pm, Gotti and Salvatore ‘Sammy the Bull’ Gravano were driving in Gotti’s Lincoln Town Car when they spotted the boss in his Black Lincoln Town Car.

Gotti drove on ahead and parked at a vantage point across the street from the restaurant.

At around 6pm, Castellano and his Underboss Thomas Bilotti pulled up at Sparks Steakhouse to attend a sit down with Frank DeCicco to apologize for missing Dellacroce’s funeral.

Just as they exited the car, the assassin shot Castellano six times. He fell to the pavement and died. Bilotti, who was in the driver’s seat was also shot dead.

Gotti then drove past the scene, while Gravano looked at Bilotti’s body, saying ‘he’s gone’.

Soon after, John Gotti became Boss, Frank DeCicco became Underboss, and Gravano became Consigliere in 1986.

  The post Gambino crime boss shook hitmans hand before he was shot and killed appeared first on Gyrlversion.

from WordPress https://www.gyrlversion.net/gambino-crime-boss-shook-hitmans-hand-before-he-was-shot-and-killed/

#Entertainment News