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disneydreamlights · 4 years

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i did not realize tippi/bleck was your OTP please tell me more about why you love them (i also like them but its been years since i played spm so i need to renew that love)

(It’s been years for me too and I’ve been meaning to replay I will just never tire of them.)

So I’m actually going to break this ask down into two parts. The first just talking about their relationship in general and what the game presents, the second actually getting into how they are the ship that very much defined what I consider a lot of my personal ship tropes today. This also isn’t the first time I’ve gone off about them either so I’m going to link this post from 2013. (It’s not my best analysis and I don’t necessarily agree with everything in it now but I mean I was 17 so for a seventeen year old who had no critical thinking skills, I think it was good for what I wanted to convey at the time. XD)

So with that out of the way let’s talk about those memories.

"I remember that day well... The room was warm. The whole place was at peace."

This is the introducing line to the first memory, to the story of Blumiere and Timpani that serves as the foundation for the story of the game, and it shows how much this day meant to Blumiere that even lost in the shadow that became Count Bleck, fallen into darkness and depression and utter self loathing, that he remembered this day as a positive despite it being, as he himself says, “the day that our tragedy was set in motion.” The memories are fond to him and his small bits of happiness, and the idea of that is heartwarming to say the least. It also gives a very early establishment on why their interactions are significant. A lot of the lore is read between the lines, but the game establishes quickly that humans and the Tribe of Darkness do not like each other. So when Timpani shows that she doesn’t care what he is, just that he needed help, it very quickly establishes both her character and why we should empathize with this unknown, and it establishes her bond with Blumiere.

She saved him without knowing who he was. Her kindness and empathy is what draws Blumiere in. And it proves a very strong foundation for their relationship as it progresses. From here in story, we’re only given snippets of who they were before. They give further background on the prejudices against them, how Blumiere’s father is working to keep them apart, and how they seem willing to overcome the obstacles at every turn. Despite the warning from the first memory, you cheer for these unknowns and hope for their happiness, it’s what they deserve. The memories where they’re happy (Blumiere proposing to Timpani, the one with them under the stars, even them just getting to talk again) are wholesome and heartwarming. And the one where Timpani tries to leave after Chapter 3 is heartbreaking. Because you want to believe in their happy ending.

Which of course gets taken away in the Chapter 6 interlude. Watching Blumiere learn that Timpani is gone, well...I’ll grab the dialogue exchange here:

"Timpani! What did you do with her? I must see her!" "Still your tongue, Blumiere... Can't you see you've been duped by a dirty human? You have brought shame to my name...and to the entire Tribe of Darkness!" "And so what if I did? That doesn't matter to me! She's my entire world!" "Well, then it will interest you to know...that she no longer resides in this world." "What... What do you mean by that?!" "This is the price those who resist their own fate must pay, my son." "She... No... It can't be so!" "Someday you will see, Son. Our kind and humans must never mix."

Yeah, it’s pretty depressing honestly. Blumiere is so clearly heartbroken and destroyed to the point that it basically convinces him that nothing matters. That he’s willing to destroy his home and everything else in the entire universe because he has nothing. This is a broken man, and it’s why he finally heeds the Prognosticus’s call in the final interlude before the main fight to become Count Bleck.

Now granted it’s not a sucker punch to see the interlude unless you haven’t been picking up the hints in the Castle Bleck scene (Chapter 6 does a fantastic job of hammering in who Blumiere is) watching Blumiere in desperation turn to the book right before you lead into Chapter 8 really hammers home how little he had to live for.

And this is double if you take a lot of the popular fan headcanons (his mother being dead, often times at the hands of humans. His father being abusive. That kind of stuff) as fact for Blumiere’s story. This was quite possibly one of the only people to ever show him kindness, and he lost her, for as far as he’s concerned, forever, and it destroys him.

Which takes us to the timeline of the main game which does an equally good job of fleshing out their love. While the game first points Count Bleck out as an absolute madman and threat with a desire to do nothing more than destroy and recreate the world however he wants, he doesn’t stay that way. The game first foreshadows that something happened to push him over the edge early on and his interactions with Nastasia where he even lets her back out show that he’s fully aware of his actions and not some delusional monster, but chapter 6 in this exchange really drives everything home.

Count Bleck: You QUESTION Count Bleck?! This worthless world's destruction matters not! Far better for Count Bleck to wipe it out of existence than let it remain! Tippi: How can you say that? That's...horrible! Count Bleck: Count Bleck scoffs at you! An insignificant Pixl lectures Count Bleck on what is right and wrong? Tippi: This is not up for discussion! You're wrong...and sick! All living things have a heart. They're all priceless. You can't just...erase them! Count Bleck: Of all things, you defend the heart? Nothing could be more worthless...All things...are meaningless. Aside from Timpani, no treasure mattered in the least to me...

First since this happens before the memory I put earlier this is your first sign that something awful happened to Timpani, but it also just really drives home just how the loss of Timpani drove the hopelessly in love Blumiere into depression and sent him spiraling. All you know is that Blumiere lost Timpani, and he might as well be dead for what’s left of him, and it’s heartbreaking.

But then Tippi remembers, and Count Bleck realizes exactly who she is. Blumiere learns his quest for destruction of the worlds that took her away from him and of himself is meaningless, and Timpani learns that the madman she’s hated, wanted desperately to stop, is the one person who means the world to her. And the result when they reunite is absolutely devastating as Blumiere attempts to play the part the prophecy sets out for him, and Timpani just wants her husband to stop. Blumiere is throwing the battle because now that he knows she’s alive, he can’t hurt her. He doesn’t want to win. He wants to die, and he wants the world to be safe for her, because all he wants is her happiness and her ability to live. The final boss sequence is absolutely killer if you have any investment in their relationship for that reason at all because they’re so in love and both know what they want can’t happen. And it’s heartbreaking.

Then Dimentio happens and in a desperate attempt to save the world, they confess they love each other and use the power of the Pure Hearts and their love for each other to destroy the Chaos Heart. The lines like actually made me emotional now and I’m reading them out of context in a script and not after the about ten hour journey of the main game.

Count Bleck: There were so many things I wanted to say to you...but I could not find the words. Tippi: Oh, Blumiere... Only one thing matters to me now. I never had the chance to return your question... Blumiere... Do you still love me, as well? Count Bleck: Of course... I have thought about you every moment since you disappeared... But I have caused you so much suffering... Tippi: Perhaps...my life would have been more carefree without you, that is true. Count Bleck: But I had to be with you, Timpani. I will never apologize for that... Tippi: I know, Blumiere. And I love you... Count Bleck: And I love you, Timpani... Hundreds of thousands of years from now, that fact will not have changed...

Like look I’m not here to provide an emotional analysis I don’t have to this is just very good. “And I love you, Timpani... Hundreds of thousands of years from now, that fact will not have changed...” is just honestly a beautiful line and I honestly cry just reading it now. (I’m not joking I have fangirl grin on my face just from reading this I miss these two so much.)

And to get their final dialogue, much like the memory scenes from earlier in the game, the conclusion to their tale immediately after this:

"Timpani...do you remember the promise we made to each other that day?" "Yes, I remember..." "If there was a place where we could be happy together, we would find it." "Will you come with me to that place now?" "Blumiere... Of course... I will always be with you..."

It’s just very sweet and satisfying after going through the story. You’ve spent so long rooting for them to have their chance (since the moment you understood what was going on in the memories) that it makes the conclusion all the more just wholesome and satisfying that after everything they’ve been to, they finally get to be together and happy, as shown by the scene in the after credits where they walk down the hill together.

So to tie all this part together, the brilliant writing of SPM is really what gives this ship the chance to shine. By giving us time to get attached to Count Bleck and Tippi first before revealing who they are, we already have a baseline investment in their happiness and thus in the ship. The ship comes secondary to their characters so you have these two already very enjoyable characters (Tippi’s sarcasm and interactions with the heroes of light are a a lot fun, and Count Bleck is so charismatic that whenever he and his minions are on screen they dominate) and then you add in ship that makes an enjoyable build up to the game with good chemistry and mostly heartwarming moments, and make it a tragedy, and it becomes very easy to get invested in it, and to love. And it makes for one of my personal favorite love stories I’ve seen in gaming.

The rest of this essay is more to do with my personal taste and less objectivity so I’m going to throw it under a read more but oh boy did this ship either literally shape my ship tropes or just hit almost every single one of them I have that well.

So needless to say I have loved this ship since I first beat the game probably about thirteen years ago so it’s hard to say whether my ship taste came first or this game defined my ship taste but let me just list all my tropes and you’ll see what I mean:

Light/Dark Dichotomy - From looks to roles, these two embody this trope to a tee. Timpani is light, she’s a descendant of the Tribe of Ancients, the guardians of the Light Prognosticus, and in game is represented in the rainbow butterfly form, who while angular her colors and overall form (butterflies) tend to give her this general association of friend. She fights for the heroes and radiates a presence of general light. Blumiere is her opposite, a member of the Tribe of Darkness, the guardians of the Dark Prognosticus, and in game is represented by mostly darker colors. He is the main antagonist and his presence in game is often tied to some of its darker moments. They embody this contrast.

Opposing Sides - I need to preface the way I’ve phrased this. In most instances I would call this “Enemies to Lovers” however because of the storyline of this game it’s not quite enemies to lovers but it sure does embody the spirit of the trope where two people are fighting against each other despite loving each other and spend the majority of the game not in love with each other because Blumiere has no idea who she is and Timpani has zero memories. The important thing is that they are working against each other, and the tension of going against somebody you love is wonderful. The scene preceding the Count Bleck boss fight embody everything good about this trope.

Forbidden Love - I mean this is literally obvious but Blumiere’s father is literally against the pairing from minute one and literally tries to kill Timpani over it this pairing is as forbidden as they come.

Tragic - I don’t need to define why Timpani and Blumiere are tragic but boy do I love me some good angst and these two are legitimately swimming in it it’s very very good. My favorite thing about the angst is that it never affects the overall tone which is a testament to how well the game is written. Slight tangent but like SPM as a whole gets very very dark, partially due to the Timpani/Blumiere elements and their tragedy but also in part due to the last three chapters of the game. Like Chapter 6 is definitely the heaviest hitter but there’s a lot to unpack in Chapters 7 and 8 as well. But despite this the game’s atmosphere never feels oppressing, it’s still fun with lighthearted moments and it’s still a game that won’t make you feel super depressed. It balances its darkness with the bright colors and the tone of the writing very well. And because of that, despite the fact that they literally destroy a world while you’re on it and then send you to the Mario version of hell, the game never feels too dark to be enjoyable.

The rest of these aren’t as clearly defined by words but I am very much a sucker for the idea of “my love for you is my one weakness” and the one thing that could be used to bring somebody down and drag them to hell. But also being the one thing that’s keeping them out of going down and the one thing that can bring them back out. It makes me emotional and I love it. I would also like to propose the idea that Timpani and Blumiere are soulmates since they’re most definitely true loves but things like soulmates are kind of subjective in the first place.

To tie it all home you can see the elements of my long standing SPM obsession littered in my fandom tastes today if you look hard enough for it. This game had a major part in forming my tastes because before Kingdom Hearts, even before Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, this was the game that captured my heart and attention. It’s the only game to have an amount of (sadly unpublished and lost on old devices that no longer work) writing to rival the amount of things I’ve written for KH over the years. And at the heart of the phenomenal game is a wonderful ship that, years after my last playthrough of the game, still holds a spot in my heart reserved for it.

Timpani and Blumiere are a fantastic ship and between its wonderful writing and its effects on my taste, it has a lot of reasons to still be my favorite ship of all time.

#Paper Mario #Super Paper Mario #Tippi #Count Bleck #Timpani #Blumiere #I love these two beyond words #taliaxlatia #Heather Answers #Heather Does Something #Forgot to add my analysis tag to this post

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aslaton8-blog · 4 years

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Mario Universe

I'm a huge Mario fan. I received my very first Super Nintendo (SNES) when I was just five years old. I was sick and my dad was a fiend for new technology so this was his version of trying to make us both feel better. I loved it! Shortly after that I met my first step brother, Brandon, who was only three years older than me. He introduced himself to me by pointing finger guns up close to him on a mission to find the burglar in the house. So much personality! We bonded immediately. He was in an out of my life for a total of four long years as my father tried to figure out his relationship with his mother. We played video games together, got lost in giant sewer systems in (Kingwood) Houston, TX, chased ice cream trucks, rode bikes together, got in trouble together, played Barbies together and everything! He was like having a real brother. I miss our fun.

I still play video games today. I hate the idea of tossing away your childhood imagination and adorations to become a "mature adult". I just think maturity means handling your responsibilities and learning how to peacefully interact with other people and the environment. It doesn't mean stop imagining there are burglars in the house and using finger guns to stop them.

My two favorite stories in a video game are Twilight Princess and Super Paper Mario Wii. Both from #Nintendo.

"Ahem! Today I'll tell you the story of the lost book of prophecies."

"This prophetic book was a mysterious tome full of stories of future events. Of course, many people craved this book, wishing to glimpse their futures. But no person, after obtaining this amazing book, ever found happiness. The reason? The book held frightful secrets not meant for people's eyes. That book came to be called the Dark Prognosticus and was sealed away. This...is the tale of that forgotten book's last owner. It is a tale of love..." - gamefaqs.com

"Prior to the events of the game, Count Bleck went by the name Blumiere and was a member of the Tribe of Darkness, a group that had broken off from the Ancients after stealing the Dark Prognosticus in an (ultimately misguided) attempt to prevent its powers from being abused. One day, Bleck was found injured at the base of a cliff by a human girl, Timpani, and nursed back to health. Despite his father's warnings to stay away from humans, Blumiere became captured by her kindness toward him, sneaking out of his castle frequently to meet with her, and the pair eventually fell in love.

After learning his father had threatened Timpani and realizing their love could not survive there, Blumiere proposed to her, but before they could be married, his father abducted and banished the bride from their dimension, wiping her memory and cursing her to wander through worlds until the day she died, out of fear that her marriage to his son would dilute the blood of the tribe. Upon learning of Timpani's disappearance, Blumiere traveled through dimensions searching for her, unaware that she had been found barely alive by Merlon, a descendant of the Ancients living in Flipside, and turned into a Pixl known as Tippi in order to save her. It is implied by one of Carson's stories that he met Nastasia at some point during his search - after freeing a bat from a trap, he witnessed her transform into a woman and swear allegiance to him out of love.

Blumiere eventually returned home convinced that his love was gone forever. Believing life and existence to be meaningless without her, he stole the Dark Prognosticus against the wishes and pleas of his father, used its prophetic power to destroy his dimension, and decided to do the same to every world." -mariowiki.com

Then There is Twilight Princess

"The game begins with a youth named Link, who works as a ranch hand in Ordon Village. One day, the village is attacked by Bulblins, who carry off the village's children with Link in pursuit before he encounters a wall of Twilight. A Shadow Beast pulls him beyond the wall into the Twilight-shrouded forest, where he is transformed into a wolf and imprisoned. Link is soon freed by a Twilight creature named Midna, who offers to help him if he obeys her unconditionally. She guides him to Princess Zelda, who explains that Zant, the King of the Twili, invaded Hyrule Castle and forced her to surrender. The kingdom became enveloped in Twilight, rendering all its inhabitants besides Link and Zelda spirits. To save Hyrule, Link must first revive the Light Spirits by entering the Twilight-covered regions and recovering the Spirits' light from the Twilight beings that had stolen it. Once revitalized, each Spirit returns Link to his Hylian form. During this time, the ghost of a departed swordsman also appears to provide swordsmanship training that he had failed to pass on before he died, as well as information regarding Link's destiny in Hyrule.

Link also helps Midna acquire the Fused Shadows, fragments of a powerful dark relic. In return, she aids Link, and during his journey, he finds Ordon Village's children and assists the monkeys of Faron, the Gorons of Eldin, and the Zoras of Lanayru. After restoring the Light Spirits and obtaining the Fused Shadows, Link and Midna are ambushed by Zant, who takes the fragments. Midna calls him out for abusing his tribe's magic, but Zant reveals his power comes from another source, and uses it to revert Link to his wolf state. Failing to seduce Midna into joining forces with him, Zant leaves her to die by exposing her to the light. Bringing a dying Midna to Zelda, Link learns from her that he needs the Master Sword to lift Zant's curse, and she proceeds to sacrifice herself to heal Midna, vanishing mysteriously. Moved by Zelda's selflessness, Midna begins to care more about Link and the fate of the light world.

After gaining the Master Sword, Link is cleansed of the curse that kept him in wolf form. Deep within the Gerudo Desert, Link and Midna search for the Mirror of Twilight, the only known gateway between Hyrule and the Twilight Realm, but discover it is broken. The Sages there explain that Zant tried to destroy it, but merely managed to shatter it into fragments; only the true ruler of the Twili can completely destroy the Mirror of Twilight. They also relate that they once used it to banish Ganondorf, the Gerudo leader who attempted to steal the Triforce, to the Twilight Realm when executing him failed. Link and Midna set out to retrieve the missing shards of the Mirror. Once the mirror has been fully restored, the Sages reveal to Link that Midna is actually the true ruler of the Twili, usurped and cursed into her current form by Zant. Confronting Zant, Link and Midna learn that he forged a pact with Ganondorf, who asked for his assistance in subjugating Hyrule. After Link defeats Zant, Midna recovers the Fused Shadows and destroys Zant after learning only Ganondorf's death can release her from her curse.

Returning to Hyrule, Link and Midna find Ganondorf in Hyrule Castle, with a lifeless Zelda suspended above his head. Ganondorf fights Link by possessing Zelda and then transforming into a massive boar-like beast, but Link defeats him and the power Midna received from Zelda is able to resuscitate her. Ganondorf then revives, and Midna teleports Link and Zelda outside the castle so she can hold him off with the Fused Shadows. However, as Hyrule Castle collapses, it is revealed that Ganondorf was victorious, as he appears before them and crushes Midna's helmet. Ganondorf engages Link on horseback; assisted by Zelda and the Light Spirits, Link eventually knocks Ganondorf off his horse and duels him on foot before plunging the Master Sword into his chest. With Ganondorf dead, the Light Spirits revive Midna and restore her to her true form. After bidding farewell to Link and Zelda, Midna returns home and destroys the Mirror of Twilight with a tear. As Hyrule Castle is rebuilt, Link leaves Ordon Village, heading to parts unknown." - wikipedia.org

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spmcomic · 5 years

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(a companion to this scene.)

They had left O’Chunks at the top of the hill. It seemed right, to leave him be, with his jar, and his shield, and his shrine. In the meantime the Count mulled over how small it all felt. If it weren’t for this small detour, it would simply feel like any other day. He supposed it would be hard to tell, for him; every day felt the same regardless.

Nastasia had begun speaking while he was distracted. He missed her first few words before he could focus in on her voice. “… go too far from here while he’s up there. It was a long way from camp, and he might not remember how to get back. ‘K?”

The Count blinked. “Yes, yes.” He paused, then straightened his back in resolve. “Nastasia, I think we should do something nice for O’Chunks,” he announced.

Nastasia stared at him. “We, um, just did the…”

“That’s not enough,” he huffed. “Nothing more than a moment out of our day? What else are we busying ourselves with?”

She bit her lip. “That’s a good point…”

The Count watched her. The sunlight shone off her hair in bright pinpricks and darkened her glasses. She was picking at her nail, the way she liked to when she wanted the Count to continue before she proceeded. But the question couldn’t seem to make its way to his mouth. He got caught on the tenuous connection between his mind and body and briefly examined the strange nature of converting thoughts to words.

“What do you think we should do, Count?” Nastasia asked, for him. But he didn’t have an answer, much less the question. He gestured helplessly.

He had watched O’Chunks fold a paper star each day without fail. He would no longer have that routine, he would no longer be working with his paper as the Count dragged himself out of the sleep-haze every morning. What could they possibly do to match up with this dedication?

“Can you narrow it down at all?” She was practically feeding him the conversation, but his mind had apparently decided to celebrate its single achievement for the day and quit while it was ahead. He opened his mouth, then gave up and closed it again. Somewhere, off to the right, a bee bumbled through the air. His ear twitched irritably.

“… Okay, um, do you want to look at the maps?” Nastasia prompted. It was so easy to become distracted by the act of listening, rather than actually listening.

“The… maps…” the Count nodded, squinting his eyes shut. The daylight warmed itself through his eyelids.

“I’ve been, y’know, making little notes. Which worlds have inns. Which ones are hostile. That kind of thing.”

The Count nodded again. “As soon as h-he returns… Thank you.” He rubbed his forehead, brushing aside the damp fluff. “Y-yes… We should be able to, ah, to return to previous worlds…”

Nastasia’s brow crept over the rim of her glasses. “Are you sure you’re up to it, sir?”

“Yes,” he mumbled. “Let us, er, move to the shade.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

She led his retreat to the cover of the trees. Their quills littered the ground, and would get caught in the fringes of his cloak, but it didn’t matter. The Count swept the fabric back and leaned against the nearest trunk. Their bark had a strange texture here, very geometrical. The stark corners dug into his back, but his cloak softened the edges. Even the thickest, bulkiest trees had an air of flimsiness about them. But the Count wasn’t heavy enough to budge them just by leaning.

Already the leaf-filtered light brought his eyes some relief. The Count considered his options. “We should not revisit a world with too many humans,” he offered. Nastasia nodded once.

“Yeah, so, that rules out a couple choices. Don’t want to take any unnecessary risks today,” she agreed, tapping her claws against the bark with a tiny scritch.

He fell silent. All the worlds in the last years looked so similar, in retrospect. He’d never be able to pick one to revisit. They were all empty. He grimaced when he thought of all the worlds they had visited and not searched. So much lost time.

Nastasia must have noticed the look on his face, because she leaned farther into his field of view. “Boss?”

“Yes, Nastasia?” He dragged his claw down his face. He needed to move, to occupy his rickety mind. He gently drifted back in the direction of their campsite. O’Chunks’ footfalls were a distant but steady noise from the hill. It would not take long to catch up to them.

She folded her hands behind her back as they walked. “Just, um, checking in. We should brainstorm some activity options before he catches up.”

The Count nearly snorted. “He would be much better at this…”

“Yeah, well, y’know. We shouldn’t ask him to make any calls right now.”

The Count nodded, but didn’t say anything else, and Nastasia gave up.

O’Chunks fell into stride beside Nastasia. “We headin’ back?”

“Yes. Nastasia and I have a matter to discuss.”

The grin was nearly audible. “Perfecting yer tic-tac-toe strategy?”

“Please,” Nastasia huffed. “We’ve moved on from that. Three dimensions is our next project.”

O’Chunks chuckled weakly. “Tha’ still falls under th’umbrella, lass.” The grass brushed under his dragging feet. The Count’s ears flicked at the sound. No, they simply couldn’t leave the day as it was.

They walked in comfortable silence. The Count struggled to yank his mind back into reality. The dappled light was certainly more tolerable than the bright clearing and the hill, but something about the air was irritating him. Nastasia referred to it as ‘allergies,’ his memory declared, unbidden. Holding up its prize as if it had picked a diamond from Jaydes’ own pocket.

Well, at least something had come back.

Their campsite had picked up a few curious critters, but O’Chunks chased them off without fanfare. Nastasia strode directly over to her backpack and picked it up, and nearly dragged the Count off into the trees. The Count glanced back over his shoulder at O’Chunks, who was rolling his eye and sighing. The Count blinked apologetically before he lost sight of the camp.

“’K, so,” she began, laying the two maps out on the grass. The Count squinted down at them. “I was making some mental notes while we were walking, and I have a few options for your review.” She motioned, so the Count crouched down further, tilting his head to one side to get a better look.

One map was blank. She tapped the marked map with a claw, drawing the Count’s attention to the ink. “According to my records there’s about half a dozen worlds that are marked for good day trips. We could always swing by a nice park…”

The Count sniffed and rubbed his nose once absently. “Perhaps. What is this world here?”

“Oh, that one had several different races in the town we visited, so we’d be safe. I made a note of its concert hall.”

“Classical music would put O’Chunks to sleep.”

“Ha, yeah…”

“Oh! I remember this one. I have an idea…”

It took only a short time to arrange. Or, it seemed like a short time, with the heaviness of the air. Packing the campsite was a blur of moving his hands around, picking things up and folding them or passing them to O’Chunks. Nastasia held the map out in front of the Count as he lifted his wand, focused on the location, and opened a portal. Nastasia confirmed the terrain was familiar, so they hopped through.

The shift in worlds was familiar by now. It was clearer here, farther into warm weather, but his mind did not clear quickly to match. Nastasia touched a hand to his shoulder and pointed off into the distance. “Just a little farther that way,” she said. He lifted his wand again, instead setting his mind’s eye to the horizon.

“Where in the dickens are the two o’you takin’ us?” O’Chunks asked, taking care to make the large step down from the Count’s only slightly misplaced portal.

“You’ll see,” Nastasia replied. “One more push, sir.” She directed him once again.

The final portal placed the trio just outside a small community built around a wide river. The Count led them around the outskirts out of habit, but the locals who did spot them simply moved on with their business. He didn’t bother pulling up his hood.

They came up on a dock leading out into the silent river. There was a pebble-skinned lizard creature with one too many arms slouched at a shaded booth next to a supply shack. It lifted its head and tasted the air with its tongue as O’Chunks took the lead.

“You just need to, um, rent the fishing boat and some supplies,” Nastasia informed him, taking her place slightly behind. She stuck her hand out to the side, so the Count took it gently between his claws.

O’Chunks glanced back at Nastasia, his brows furrowed. “Fishing boat? Issat what yeh dragged us all the way out here for?”

Nastasia and the Count both nodded once, one with a touch more enthusiasm than the other. O’Chunks sighed, but a fond laugh escaped at the end and he rubbed his face. “Alright. Guess we’re fishin’ today.” He shielded his eyes and looked toward the sky. “Looks t’still be late morning here, yeah? Plenty o’time.”

“Howdy,” the lizard greeted as O’Chunks approached, still shaking his head. Its voice was far more musical than the Count had assumed it would be. “What can I do for y’all here?”

“We need a boat,” O’Chunks counted off his fingers. “An’, uh, a fishing pole, and some bait… The usual?”

The lizard rested its head on an arm. “We only got one fishing pole left. Popular spot, today.”

“Tha’s fine,” O’Chunks rumbled, glancing back at Nastasia again.

They left their things in the nearly-empty shack, though O’Chunks took a moment to retrieve his hat. “Don’t want a sunburn,” he said. The lizard hopped down from its booth and led them to the farthest dock, where a tiny boat was tethered to a post. The dock was nearly underwater, so the three of them picked carefully across the puddles and clambered into the boat. The Count gently ran a finger along the surface; it wasn’t made of wood, but he had no idea what it could have been made out of instead. Their guide drowsily waved good-bye as they pulled away from the dock.

“Oh, there’s all the other boats,” Nastasia sighed as they paddled past a bend through the shrubs and found a crowd.

“I don’t mind,” O’Chunks shrugged, poking at their bucket of bait.

The Count put his hands on the outer rim of the boat with the beginnings of a smirk creeping into his eyes. “I will take care of it. Grab hold of something.”

O’Chunks grabbed the other side of the boat. Nastasia grabbed O’Chunks.

He had never pushed something this big before, but he felt the energy growing in his arms and hands and flowing down into the material of the boat. It drifted backward for a moment while he gathered his power, and then he released. The boat tilted back and shot across the surface of the water, barely weaving through the crowd gathered in the wide, still pool. The other two yelped as they surged forward, but the Count kept his hands on the side.

All at once they passed through the crowd and flew down the river on the other side. The current was stronger here, and would hopefully carry them down to the next quiet pond. In the meantime, the Count sat back, sweat slicking his head and hands. Nastasia and O’Chunks let go of each other and Nastasia took a rattled breath.

He grinned at them. “I haven’t moved that quickly in…” He trailed off. His mind had automatically reached for a memory that was not there. When had he last felt the wind whipping past him like that? A pit was growing in his gut, so he decided not to dwell on it.

“Well, I’m awake now!” O’Chunks laughed. The boat turned gently in a swirling current, so O’Chunks dipped his hand in the river and corrected their course.

Nastasia just groaned. The Count reached out and patted her hand gently. “Are you alright, Nastasia?”

“I’m fine. I just, um, wasn’t ready.”

“Looks like the next pond is coming up, th’water’s gettin’ real slow,” O’Chunks pulled his hat back up so that it shaded his eyes again.

“Yeah, even if this one’s full, we’re not jetting across again,” Nastasia said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. “You look tired, anyway, boss.”

“Admittedly, I have not cast a spell like that before…” The Count leaned back as far as he could against the support of the boat, facing the sky, letting his hands and head cool in the breeze.

O’Chunks leaned over, looking into the distance. “Looks like tha’ was the fishing spot. There’s no one ‘ere.”

Nastasia followed his gaze, humming. “We might not get any bites, then.”

“Har, well, then we’ll ‘ave t’skip the fish ‘n chips fer dinner is all,” O’Chunks said as he began fumbling around with their fishing pole.

The Count stared up at the sky in their drifting boat while O’Chunks and Nastasia realized they hadn’t asked their guide for help, and quietly discussed the fishing pole. It took them a few minutes to put together both their half-remembered fishing rules, but he closed his eyes and listened as the picture became clearer. Keep the entire arc of your swing clear of any bystanders- the hook WILL snag on them; don’t pull too hard; put the bait on the hook in such-and-such a fashion; don’t rock the boat and scare away the fish…

…

“First there’s Gavina,” O’Chunks began. The Count startled. What time was it?

“Oh, you woke up,” Nastasia turned her attention toward him. Noting his confused blinking, she added, “It was only ten minutes, sir.”

“What are we talking about?” he mumbled.

“Me siblings. I was just gonna… tell some stories.” O’Chunks absently jostled the fishing pole in his hands.

The Count sat up, trying to escape the heavy buzzing in his head. “Please continue.”

“Gavina was the oldest sibling, after me. Her favored weapon was the battle axe, and her favorite of those was this axe that must have been the same size as her. She called it the Last Laugh, maybe because she wasn’t shy about brandishing it if me ‘n me siblings got going with the japes. It was just about the only thing that could stop the twins and Cait, heh. Actually, one time Gav pulled it out of its holster so hard it got stuck in the ceiling. Me mum banned her from wearing it in the house when she cut through the stair railing without even taking it out. And then she was banned from carrying it in every building after that, one by one. She was good with it in battle! But only because I had the others give her a wide berth. I could swear the thing was enchanted, it ‘accidentally’ saved her from attacks from behind so often.”

“Where did she get an enchanted axe? I thought your world didn’t have, like, enchanted items.”

“I had th’same question meself, but she would only wink at me every time I asked. Guess we’ll never know.”

“Tell one about the twins.”

The boat rocked gently as O’Chunks shifted his weight.

“All right. Next up are Grey and Nareen, the twins. Except they didn’t much look like each other, so no one we met believed them. And after Nareen grew her hair out and started dressing differently, everyone thought they were dating… Don’t give me that look, all seven of us were quick to correct them. Actually, the opposite happened with Sun and his wife. We met a pair of brigadiers who could not believe they weren’t siblings. And they look nothing alike! She didn’t have the O’Chunks family nose. Anyway, little Grey decided they needed to be rivals. But Nareen wasn’t the competitive type… Every time Grey picked up an activity, looking to compete with her, Nareen would move to the opposite kind of thing. Say, Grey picked up a sword. Nareen would go practice coordinating with other commanders. Grey decided to learn how to bowl. Nareen took up a music instrument. Putting their skill sets together, they had just about all the bases covered…”

O’Chunks tugged idly at the fishing pole. Nastasia had been right to expect not to get a bite, but it was just as well. They chattered for a bit about organizing teams.

The Count occupied himself with again attempting to whistle. All he had managed to do so far was make that strange spluttering noise. O’Chunks would look over at him, every few tries, amusement growing in his smile.

Nastasia paused. “Have you tried, um, folding your tongue between…” O’Chunks barked out a laugh and she buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know how I keep forgetting.” The Count glared at her while he spluttered again. O’Chunks passed her the fishing pole.

“I think yeh got a wee trill in there this time, Count.” Another glare, another hissing session.

“Me brother Sun is next. He was always hitting it off with the ladies harder than fifteen-year-old bread. And his lines were just as stale. But he gave such an earnest delivery that it was easy to believe he meant it anyway. One day, though… he was practicing with his bow when this woman walked by. Ah, stars, he made some comment about Cupid I think… She was so unimpressed that he panicked and said, ‘Sorry, I just flirted that out.’ And you can imagine how a pun went over with her, if she didn’t like the pickup line! After she suplexed him, he was just head over heels in love.”

Nastasia let out a harsh breath between her closed teeth. O’Chunks laughed and slapped his knee.

While Nastasia sat with the pole, O’Chunks dug their deck of cards out of his pocket. “Here, Count, I’m gonna teach yeh a magic trick.”

The Count sat up straighter, twisting his ears forward. “I thought you could not cast spells?”

He smirked. “Well, you’ll see. Here, pick a card.” He spread out the deck between his fingers. The Count chose the card on the farthest left side. O’Chunks held it up so the Count could see, but not him. Queen of diamonds. “Yeh got it memorized?” The Count nodded.

O’Chunks shuffled it into the deck. “Now, yeh see, some folks out there might not believe we humans can do much by way of magic,” he began, cutting the deck once, twice. “But! With good spirit, and the right amount of practice…”

“You have the wrong card.”

“What?” O’Chunks blinked. “I haven’t even shown you…” He flipped over the card. Three of clubs. He stared down at it owlishly. “How did yeh know?”

His frown grew deeper and he stared seriously at the Count. “Which card am I holding up?” He held a card out, facing away from the Count.

The Count closed his eyes, concentrating briefly. “Seven of clubs.”

“This one?”

A pause. “Jack of hearts.”

“This one?”

The Count frowned. “The three of clubs again.”

Nastasia stared between the two of them. O’Chunks set his jaw.

“Count… ‘Ave yeh been cheatin’ in our card games? Issat why yeh like Go Fish?”

The Count slapped his hands against the seat in outrage. “Of course not! Why would I cheat? Do I not lose half the time?”

“Yeh should lose two-thirds of the time!”

“That’s what I meant!”

“No, yeah, it would take the fun out of it…”

“Nastasia understands.” The Count leaned back again and folded his arms.

O’Chunks sighed and shook his head with a disgruntled growl. The cards went into the Count’s bag. Nastasia passed the Count the rod, and he dropped the baited hook off the side of the boat and watched it sink under the bright sparkling surface. He squinted and turned away, returning his attention to O’Chunks.

“Anyhow. Me youngest sister Cait enabled a whole lotta our nonsense. Thinking back on it, she might have been some kind of crazy mastermind, doing the whole thing on purpose. She always seemed the most clearheaded when we went out to celebrations or parties… She was just the worst singer though. She loved it, but none of us could hardly stand to hear it. And she was the one who remembered the lyrics best when all of us got hammered, of course. So she led the singing. I guess, when you’re that out of it, it dinnae matter anymore how on-key you were. Har har, imagine her, engineering all these situations just so she could have her fun without us ragging on her…”

The day’s activities were catching up with the Count. O’Chunks’ voice made a pleasant backdrop, a curtain of words over the blinding-bright light from the sky and the pool. He felt his body going slack, but it didn’t seem worth the energy to keep his posture, or to keep his eyes fully open. The light faded to a distant ring, off in the distance somewhere, behind O’Chunks’ recount of the wildest party his sister had gotten them into.

You’re just a weepy drunk is all, a voice said, somewhere in the darkness. The Count’s eyes drooped closed.

“Is that normal?” He knew how this memory went. Or, he thought he knew. It was already gone.

“Hm?” Nastasia’s concern called his attention back to the boat. “Did you say something, sir?”

The Count rubbed at his eye. “N-no…” Then with a tug and a jolt the Count was snapped back to the present. He swiped clumsily at the pole, but the fish was big, and fast, and had already pulled the stick off the boat. The Count flailed as he tumbled forward.

With a yank on the back of his hood, O’Chunks pulled him back over the side of the boat before the water could claim him. But the sudden movement rocked the boat too far, and the tipping sent O’Chunks reeling and Nastasia planting her legs on the floor for balance. In order to avoid tripping over her, O’Chunks leaned too far to the side, and off the side he went with a loud splash.

The Count froze at the side of the boat. What to do? Where was the pole? Ah, ahead, it was still floating on the surface. It was getting away. O’Chunks floundered, trying to get his head back above the water, casting deep ripples across the surface and knocking the plants on the shores about. The Count threw out his hand and pulled back on the pole, struggling against the strength of the fish. How big was this creature? The line was going to snap…

Ah, the line and hook were gone. The pole flew back to his hand effortlessly after that. O’Chunks had righted himself and was gasping for air.

“What ‘appened, Count!?” O’Chunks cried, paddling back to where their boat had drifted away, carried on the ripples.

“I-I…” the Count shrank back, pulling the pole back over the side of the boat to the seats.

O’Chunks sighed. “Doesn’t matter tha’ much. I needed teh cool off anyways. Help me back up.” He gripped the low rim of the boat’s side.

“Wait!” Nastasia called before the boat tilted wildly again, sending the Count and Nastasia tumbling to the floor. Nastasia sprawled across the Count’s chest and stomach, knocking the wind out of him. She got up first. “O’Chunks, push us closer to shore first. ‘K? You can give yourself a leg up.”

The Count laid on his back, squinting up at the sky. The midday sun beat down, casting bright rings that overwhelmed his vision. The boat gently rocked. But he was awake now, struggling to get enough air. It really was very warm. But he knew he would be cold the moment he took off the cloak.

The boat tilted more mildly, this time, and O’Chunks heaved his weight off the floor of the river’s shore back into the boat. Water sprinkled off his drenched clothes in a brief, cool shower. O’Chunks stood over the Count, blocking the sun.

“Havin’ trouble seeing, Count?”

The Count could not make out any details under O’Chunks’ shadowed silhouette. He simply grunted and sat up, pushing his hair back with a claw.

He jolted at the sudden cold weight as O’Chunks slapped his hat on the Count’s head. The hat dripped down his nose and ears, and the back of his head, down onto the hood of the cloak and his shoulders in wet trickles. He scowled.

“Now tha’s a picture I want in my head forever,” O’Chunks laughed. Nastasia put her hand to her mouth. But the shade did bring some relief. “Nassy, pass me the sunscreen.”

As she dug the bottle out of the Count’s bag, O’Chunks settled back down on his seat to begin another story.

“Al was me littlest brother, as you know. He was the only one of us who was any good at math, but the lad had not a single lick of common sense. As a wee babe, we always had to keep him in our sights. He always got into the strangest situations. One time when he was twelve… Sun must have put him up to it. He tried to climb on the statue in front of our pa’s office, like he wanted to ride the horse or something. But there wasn’t any room, so he just kept climbing, and he ended up on top of the hero’s shoulders. Har, the hero’s story is long, too… Ecmar, he was called. He was from our hometown. Anyway, Alastair couldn’t get down, so Sun and I sat with him until Gav could find a ladder. Not a lot of ladders, around our town… He never changed, all the way up until twenty…”

The Count tipped the drying hat back and freed his forehead from the damp stickiness. “You have known so many people,” he marveled.

“Yeah…” O’Chunks sighed and leaned back, setting the closed sunscreen container on the bench next to him. He traded it out for his water bottle. “Still miss ‘em. Always will.”

The Count and Nastasia sat silently. The Count was unsure how to proceed, and he knew Nastasia didn’t trust herself to tread carefully, after this morning.

“It’s jus’… it leaves behind a big hole in yer life, yeh know? Not just them, but everything yeh used to do with ‘em… Everything yeh used to know…”

“You have us now?” Nastasia offered quietly.

O’Chunks’ voice cracked. “Yeh just aren’t th’same shape as what they left behind. I love yeh guys, but, yeh can’t replace ‘em. You can only be somethin’ new.”

The Count startled at the sudden tears. He and Nastasia gawked at each other, for a moment. But he came to a decision. The Count floated over to the other side of the boat- it became even more lopsided, with the change in weight, but it didn’t tip. He sat next to O’Chunks and leaned against his side. Nastasia leaned around O’Chunks’ bulk to see what he was doing, and then followed suit. O’Chunks weakly put his arms around the two of them.

“What shall we tell that lizard creature about the missing hook?” The Count wondered idly, after a long time.

O’Chunks groaned and pushed his hat farther down on the Count’s head. “We’ll just tie on a new one.”

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#spm #super paper mario #paper mario #o'chunks #count bleck #nastasia #arc 4

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datastate · 5 years

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character ask meme- count bleck lol

fuck.. im kinnie.

favorite thing about them: LISTEN i know its stupid but i just........ aesthetically............... blue’s outfit................................. peak noircore. i wanna dress like that!! it’s not jus for the kinnie its just that i really like that sort of extravagant style

least favorite thing about them: oh, yknow, maybe the fact that they were kind of about to maybe just a little bit destroy every single world........... in my canon the dark prognosticus bassboosted the negative emotions that came with losing the only person who ever cared about them but that doesn’t excuse them completely

favorite line: ok if we’re talking abt count bleck it’d probably be: "Now there is only Bleck! The Dark Prognosticus's choice to fulfill the prophecy! Nothing more!" bc then you can see just how they think of themself at this point. just a vessel. they aren’t a person. theyre just the host to ensure the dark prognosticus’ prophecy goes through. they Know they aren’t blumiere anymore. and after years and years, they’ve accepted it. and they aren’t trying too hard to form anything new, because they know the end is approaching. they may as well stay like this, a husk that moves at the will of the prognosticus

but if it’s like.. blumiere from the memories, it’d probably be "'If we can't be happy here, we must leave for a place that will accept our love. If our love has no home... let us spend our lives searching together!'" because THATS the real gay agenda

brOTP: hmm... honestly im gonna have to go with nastasia. they could get along fine when they’re close to each other, it’d just become a disaster if they actually tried for something romantic bc. y know. blumiere’s a fucking mess and nastasia isn’t in that great of a state herself.

OTP: timpani!! with the two ive gotten so far i havent changed the ‘canon’ ship jdsjkgdgdh im basic huh......... but yea theyre jus... it could be sweet. they still have a lot to work through, especially post spm, but. they’ll be able to. things won’t be the same as they were before the prognosticus, but they can both adjust to change and learn to love each other again

nOTP: hhhhhhh why are you shipping blumiere with dimentio... why........ i will never understand some of you. did canon just? not happen? for you to start shipping dimentio with people? especially this unstable bastard? ...also blumiere w mimi. that just. hm. cant put my finger on it bc i havent touched spm in a while but it still creeps me out. esp since i hc their relationship to be more of a platonic father/daughter

random headcanon: blumiere meant to die when they fell from the cliff

unpopular opinion: hi!!!!! yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!! even if the others forgive them post-spm blumiere still feels the need to own up to what they’ve done and the guilt is endless. they feel they deserved dimentio’s betrayal in the end because of how shitty they’ve been to everyone. the only reason they helped work against it was because they knew that even though they deserved death, none of the others did. now that they had a chance to be more than an empty body, to create their own path, they wanted to save everyone they’d hurt. and even post spm that feeling remains. stop writing blumiere as a shitty person but rather a person who is still trying to work through a shitty past

song i associate with them: i actually have a... a playlist for all of the counts crew.............. but for a specific one (and yea i know i still need to get into touhou.. one of these days) bad apple

favorite picture art piece of them: ok ok i havent gone here in forever so i havent kept up with it but with fics?? either not a usual honeymoon or blumiere and timpani’s forest inn iTS REALLY HARD TO CHOOSE

#ask #character ask meme #anonymous

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cosmosogler · 6 years

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hi guys. today was... tiring.

i had a dream in a similar vein to the one i had the other week about trying to take my classes from inside a mental hospital. except in this one there was margarita, from the master and margarita, i guess. and some other characters. margarita was supposed to help me get out of the hospital (a similar role to the one she played in the book she’s from) but while i was sitting in there looking out the window, she looked in, and saw me, and looked disgusted and embarrassed and left. i felt abandoned and there was no way out, and the guy whose head i was sitting in couldn’t do anything anyway.

actually i was in a weird position there, i was someone else, but also myself, and mostly just watching this other person go about his adventure. i could make comments or suggestions but not actually directly do anything. and i wasn’t allowed to remind him who he was, i don’t remember why that was a rule. he had no idea where he was.

well ok it was blue. he usually shows up with other characters but this one was just him and a bunch of people (largely my family) being total assholes to him while he was very confused.

ok i woke up at about 4 in the morning and couldn’t fall back asleep for quite some time. eventually i dozed off but it was light out the last time my eyes closed. my alarm went off at 8 and i groaned and flopped facedown curled up in bed for about a minute while my alarm did its thing. eventually i got up and showered and stuff.

i thought i left my apartment on time, but i got to the office five minutes late and had to run into the classroom and start teaching before i could actually get my bearings and remember the experiment. i even got a call from my supervisor, but it was right as i was getting into the building so i didn’t answer. i apologized to him later, and i let the last group stay the extra five minutes to make up for it.

teaching this lab was otherwise also kind of miserable because it involved a lot of kneeling down and then standing back up and my blood pressure could not handle it. and the nonstop questions meant i had to dart back and forth down a very crowded and busy aisle with a bunch of stuff sticking out everywhere while my blood pressure was making my head spin. i didn’t trip over anything or anyone so that was good.

after that i had lunch in harrison’s office and hung out with him and keegan, and then i graded for an hour and finished the section i’d been working on. then i realized i was late for my drc appointment so i jumped on my bike and booked it over there. i actually got there in less than 8 minutes, which is... a lot faster than normal, so i guess i am getting faster a little bit.

anyway i found out my appointment had been canceled and i hadn’t been notified in any way. so i biked back over to the office. that time was even more impressive because it was less than 7 minutes AND i hit both lights right as they turned red so i spent a lot of that time waiting. it was less distance uphill.

i read my textbook for an hour to try to get back on my feet in stat mech, and then i went to the lecture by barry barish. that was cool. i had a good time once we got through the history and a really long ode to one of his coworkers.

it wasn’t a literal ode, but it felt like a life story but told through shared inside jokes. which made it hard to follow.

after that i read for another hour, and then hung out with harrison for a few minutes, and then biked home. i made myself some dinner and knocked out some chores and continued my “fill the queue quest” and now i have an obnoxious amount of “content” lined up for the comic. i’ll try to balance it out with a little more fan works, because i ended up finding a landscape blog that i REALLY LIKED.

then i spent another hour reading the textbook and filling in some notes about the other two textbooks i’m reading, and THAT WAS EVERYTHING ON MY TO-DO LIST FOR THE DAY!!! I DID EVERYTHING!!!!

so i read a little farther into the book and drew two panels of the next page. i now have 2/15 panels done for the next upload. the whole scene is 37 panels but i’m splitting it into a two-page and a three-page. harrison’s starting to like nastasia too as i get to talk about her a little more. i’m glad he likes my characters, or, my interpretation of them i guess, since i did not make them.

now it’s midnight, which is about 10 minutes after i wanted to be in bed, but i wanted to feel melancholy about that dream for a little bit. i feel real powerless in almost all my dreams but this one was very direct about that feeling. i was not even present in the dream, i was just giving suggestions to this character. and he didn’t even take most of them unless i was REALLY insistent. i was angry on his behalf when people were super jerks to him and just really sad about the whole situation he found himself in.

it was a weird meta comment on dissociation i think. because i can’t seem to muster that energy to care about myself. most of the comments my dreams make are very weird but they almost always make me very sad.

ok that’s all. tomorrow my list is a little ambitious again but i thiiink i can handle it ok. i tried to pace everything out this weekend and based my to-do list on what i can usually get done (and then put one more thing on there to try to do better than before). i’m gonna try to sleep very soon. i want to. i’m very tired and still real bummed.

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sinceileftyoublog · 5 years

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Daniel Knox Interview: Chasescene, Song by Song Breakdown

BY JORDAN MAINZER

After breaking to make all sorts of music for film and theater, Chicago singer-songwriter Daniel Knox has finally completed his trilogy. Chasescene, preceded by Disaster and Everyman For Himself, is an album about fizzling relationships and barbarism, rife with animal imagery and raw desires. Featuring contributions from Pulp’s Jarvis Cocker and Nina Nastasia, the album combines cinematic, baroque instrumentation and Knox’s theatrical baritone with moments equally devastating and hilarious.

Though released Friday in the U.S., Chasescene actually came out last month in the UK and Europe, where there’s more demand for Knox’s music. As such, he’s touring there right now and hoping to book a Chicago release show in March with a bigger band than who he’s been playing with lately (just guitarist Joshua Fitzgerald Klocek). Because Knox self-releases on his own label, H.P. Johnson, he normally does the work of a team of people, so the prospect of other band members (such as France-based drummer Jason Toth, electric bassist Paul Parts, string bassist Jim Cooper, violinist/viola player Andra Kulans, cellist Melissa Bach, and violinist Ronnie Kuller) weathering the load is an attractive one.

This year, Knox, who misses touring, hopes to play as many shows and write and record as much as possible and finish the “first and second steps” of various projects he’s started. (He’s also planning on reissuing the first two albums in the trilogy.) For now, yes, there’s Chasescene, but the album is, as Knox told me last month, “a break from ways of having done things” allowing him to revisit his process moving forward and revisit past projects. In an interview at the Music Box Theatre (where Knox works), he broke down track-by-track the landmark new album.

KETURAHWALTZ

SILY: "Keturahwaltz” seems like a cinematic introduction to the record. Not only do you work at the Music Box, but you’ve also done a lot of music for films. Can you talk about this track in context of both the record and your discography?

Daniel Knox: The first track was originally part of a suite of songs I wrote for a girl I was fond of--it didn’t end well. It also acts as part of a nice overture for everything that follows. In addition, Chasescene is the third part of a trilogy. I like following the last song on Evryman with a kind of post-apocalyptic instrumental. It starts with just me on the piano, and everything builds back up again. But it stats with nothing. I like starting the breakup story at the end of the world but also using it as a true overture in that its introducing most of the instruments on the record at large.

BLIND DEAF AND DUMB

SILY: “Blind Deaf And Dumb” seems to start one of the main themes of the record--animalistic desires--but also human desires and relationships. Is the line, “I tried to hold you with my claws,” or “I tried to hold you with my clause,” like a marriage clause?

DK: It’s “claws,” but I’ll take that if you want to give it that meaning. That works, too. [laughs]

MAN IS AN ANIMAL

SILY: “Man Is an Animal” continues the themes of the previous song, but instrumentally, it’s a little bouncy.

DK: Or as the critics like to say, “jaunty.”

SILY: Then it switches to a maudlin instrumental. Can you talk about that switch?

DK: There was a specific moment that inspired that song, which was that I woke up and walked outside to get the newspaper in my robe. I kicked the newspaper down the stairs, then I kicked it on the sidewalk, and I kept just kicking it. I was so tired. I looked back, and I was two houses away. I had this premonition of myself walking as far as I could into the distance, just wandering the world in a robe. It’s something I think about a lot. If you really wanted, at any point, to just get up and walk away from everything, you can. You have that ability. But people don’t--they get attached to things. There are a lot of ways to think about that, and I hope what I just said doesn’t ruin it. But if I had to associate an image, it would be that. The coda at the end feels like a very necessary thing. The song would feel more like a joke if it didn’t have that. I needed to say, “This is not a joke. This is not a funny song, really.” The two things can be intertwined.

SILY: You wouldn’t call “A Day In The Life” a funny song, but it has Paul McCartney’s bouncy moment. It’s honestly a similar story to yours.

DK: I’ll take it.

CHASESCENE

SILY: The title track seems to be the start of references to a bad relationship.

DK: Uh, yeah. [laughs]

SILY: To say the least.

DK: To say the least.

SILY: “I love you by the neck,” “You’re naked in the ground / You can’t make a sound,” “I love you with a knife”--are these lines referring to desires?

DK: I want to be careful in that my feeling about that song in the general sense is that if you’re looking for something bad there, you’re going to find it. If you’re looking for something good, you might find it. It’s kind of spoken from the eye of the storm, so to speak. Right after the significant event, you just don’t know what’s gonna happen. Your mind goes to the darkest place and paints a picture for you. The picture probably isn’t real, but your mind painted it. I think a lot of people have the tendency to back away from that and bury it.

CUT FROM THE BELLY

SILY: Where does “Cut From the Belly” lie within the record?

DK: In line with what you were talking about before--animalistic desires. In a lot of ways, it continues the progression of “Main Is An Animal”, as far as its title is concerned. It’s hard to talk about that song. To me, it’s more impressionistic. There’s a story, and it’s one of man versus beast. You can see that inwardly or externally. Either way is a fair way to look at it.

CAPITOL

SILY: “Capitol” was you sort of returning the favor to Jarvis Cocker.

DK: Oh yeah. That’s weird when they say “returning the favor” as if he had to do it. He didn’t have to do that. He did it because he liked the song, and we’re cool.

SILY: Do you keep in touch with him?

DK: Yeah, I mean I don’t chill at his house for the holidays, but we talk to each other. We’re friends. We kept in touch after I did the vocals on his song, and I asked him to do it for me. When I was on tour with The Handsome Family in England, I was like, “I’ll be there, will you be around?” He came from Paris to do it, and we tracked the vocals in a day.

SILY: It’s a perfect fit over the bossa nova instrumentation.

DK: I wrote that for a song cycle that I had for this that a lot of the music for the self-titled album came from. I knew it wasn’t for me to sing. I knew someone else had to do it. So I asked him. It’s nice to have that there at the end of Side A. It adds some much needed levity after “Chasescene” and “Cut From The Belly”, which are harsh in terms of imagery. And he’s got such a playful delivery, too, that it keeps the edge off. I wanted it to have sort of an old Hollywood feel to it, and he has that quality innately, which I don’t.

ANNA14

SILY: One of my favorite lines on the record is from “Anna14″, when you sing, “back of a car or an old crawl space...joking.” Was that ad-libbed, or did you write that in?

DK: I wrote that in. It’s a love song about moving. Moving is really emotional. It’s like having a kid or a pet dying. But it doesn’t have much representation in art. You have to kind of interface with everything that you own as a sense of measurement of not only space but time, and the space and time between yourself and the place and another person. That’s so under-served in love songs in particular. I wrote it for someone I was in love with who I was trying to say, “Alright, things will be better when we go to this other place,” but still trying to be honest about how shitty it is. That’s the crux of it.

PACK YOUR BAGS

SILY: Which leads into “Pack Your Bags”.

DK: “Pack Your Bags” is about a friend of mine who is no longer a friend of mine. I don’t like necessarily saying it’s a breakup record.

SILY: There’s a breakup with multiple people.

DK: One of my more popular songs is “What Have They Done To You Now”, and a lot of people assume it’s about an ex-girlfriend, but it’s really about a friend. I have a lot of songs like that that people assume are about romantic endeavors. The romantic “I love you, I don’t love you” thing really disinterests me. I don’t care about it. I like songs of devotion, and to an extent songs of worship, but I can’t write them. The traditional “I love you, you used to love me” kind of song doesn’t interest me. People put that on my songs, which is okay with me if it serves them well, but it’s not my intention.

THE POISONER

SILY: For “The Poisoner”, how did you get in touch with Nina Nastasia? Did you know her before?

DK: I had done a show with her many times before, but I wouldn’t say that we knew each other really well. It was one of these “wow” moments for me. It definitely came together at the end. It’s my favorite song on the record. She, to me, is one of the greatest songwriters ever. I admire her in every way. Her performing, her writing, just everything.

LEFTOVERS

SILY: “Leftovers” is sort of a country ballad.

DK: I mean...yeah, it definitely leans on a country sound. Whether or not it’s country again is up for you to decide.

SILY: It also provides one of those great moments of levity you talk about: “I’m getting tired of this music-less dance / Why don’t you put your hand down my pants?”

DK: It’s definitely a case where I was trying to be humorous, but also stay in the ballpark. I think I had written it initially to be mean to somebody, when I thought I might have somebody else sing it. But then I realized, “Oh, this is also about me.” It’s reflected right back at me.

MRS ROTH

SILY: Similar to the title track, “Mrs. Roth” has those very direct dark lines.

DK: It does, but here’s the thing to remember about that song--something that’s missing from the record, which is nobody’s fault but my own. When I set that song up in concert, it’s about a little boy and his teacher. Which is not apparent to people. There’s a much darker inference that can be drawn when I don’t give that context. When it’s about a little boy obsessing over a teacher with whom he was sexually repelled and fascinated at the same time. In the context of the record, I suppose it’s black and white.

SILY: So, “shall I untie you now?” and “I put something in your drink”--those were sort of imagined in the boy’s mind?

DK: Yeah, for sure. It’s a weird thing to talk about the sexuality of a little boy, but when it’s you, you can do that. I had a teacher who was a strange looking creature. I was becoming sexually awake at a very young age, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. It felt unreasonable to me, it felt violent. And I also, of course, was drawn to it. So I tried to illustrate it in a funny and somewhat ugly way, and I guess I did. Like any uncomfortable story, there’s a time and place that’s absolutely wrong for it. A listener might hear it and have that be the case for them, but another might hear it and think it’s really funny and maybe see a little of themselves in it, and that’s alright too.

ME AND MY WIFE

SILY: “Me and My Wife” is one of those heart-stopping narratives. It seems a little more linear, leaving you wanting to hear what’s next.

DK: It’s funny you say that, because it’s somewhat non-linear in terms of its flow of things, but where it’s placed on the record, it creates a focal point for what preceded it. I try not to speak too much on my intentions. I like to leave a lot of space for the listener to find themselves in. For the story to give you as many pieces of the picture as you need to find yourself in it. I definitely like to think of that song as a fractured memory of everything not just on that record, but the two other records. Things ending, but also not ending. If you buy the vinyl, it’s not a perfect loop, but it doesn’t stop.

Chasescene by Daniel Knox

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spmcomic · 6 years

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Nastasia jerked around at the sound. Even O’Chunks had heard it clearly. He watched her drop the spoon into the pan and, despite his complaints, immediately rush over to the Count. He leaned too far forward to pull the pan off the fire and nearly lost his balance when he spun to join Nastasia by the Count.

“Sir, what’s wrong?” She was asking. O’Chunks sat across from her with a heavy thud. The Count flinched a few seconds later. He was staring at nothing, slumped over, head bowed. No good.

“’E’s not awake, Nassy,” O’Chunks started, his voice low. Damage control first- Nastasia was easier to calm down. He doubted the Count even heard them. “I don’t think ‘e really knows what ‘e’s sayin’.” Nastasia turned toward him, a deep frown furrowing its way into her brow. Be patient, he told himself, however she takes it.

“He’ll snap out of it.” Nastasia insisted. O’Chunks resisted the sigh bubbling up his throat. “He has to. We just have to help him.”

O’Chunks settled his weight forward, resting on his palm. “How d’yeh want to try, Nassy?”

“Count Bleck is stupid. Count Bleck is worthless,” the Count muttered. His breathing was even more ragged than usual. O’Chunks put the back of his fingers to the Count’s head. It was wet and hot. He figured. He wiped his knuckles on his shirt.

Nastasia took a rattled breath. “Um… You… He’ll listen to you. Tell him one of those stories.”

O’Chunks hesitated, then rested his hand on the Count’s shoulder. “’Ey, Count, d’yeh want to hear somethin’ interesting?” He offered.

The Count didn’t even blink. “Unhand Count Bleck,” he said tonelessly. O’Chunks let his hand drop.

O’Chunks glanced at Nastasia. “’E usually at least closes his book… Should I take it?”

“Absolutely not,” Nastasia’s reply was sharp as knives. “He needs it.”

“Count Bleck is evil,” the Count continued, eyes fixed on a spot O’Chunks was pretty sure was under the ground. “Count Bleck will do as he’s told without comment or fuss or delay.”

O’Chunks rubbed his chin hairs, then tugged on them thoughtfully. “I don’t think… Nassy, this book isn’t a very nice set o’directions. Are yeh certain its prophecy will do good?”

Nastasia opened her mouth to respond, but the Count interrupted with what sounded like a hiss. “No,” he quickly added. “The Prognosticus is correct and right. Count Bleck is a pathetic layabout who must be convinced to do the right thing. Without the Prognosticus’ guidance, all Count Bleck can ever do is bring shame to his tribe.”

O’Chunks grunted. He watched Nastasia’s face fall as the Count spoke. She looked up at him.

“Do you really think… He doesn’t know what he’s saying…? About himself?”

Honesty or kindness…? Would she catch him if he lied? He tugged harder at his beard. She would. “I still don’t think he’s awake at all, Nassy. Should we try something else, or leave ‘im to it? Yeh left our dinner sittin’ cold… ‘E might need food. I know I’m hungry for that, ehhh, stir fry yeh got goin’.”

In desperation, Nastasia wrapped her fist around one of the Count’s lapels- “unhand Count Bleck”- and pulled him down a little closer. O’Chunks saw her mouth move, but his tired ears couldn’t pick up the sound. His tired eye, however, did pick up the Count’s confused blink and the quick twitch of his good ear. He took his cue.

“Don’t worry, Nassy. Our Blecky-boy will pull through…” He stopped and smirked when the Count jerked as if he’d been pinched and glared at O’Chunks. “… if we keep our heads up and stay organized.”

Nastasia’s mouth thinned into a narrow line. “I do say that…”

“’The general’s nonsensical games will not distract Count Bleck,’ sneered Count Bleck,” he mumbled, unable to pull out of his funk.

“Glad you like ‘em,” O’Chunks responded without thinking. Nastasia huffed.

“Well, I’m not giving up. What else have we tried that works?” She had hunched her shoulders to brace herself. Did she expect him to argue with her? Arguing with her wasn’t going to get dinner finished any faster.

He grunted as he started to think. But the Count seemed to have become agitated. He hadn’t moved, but his breath had taken on an edge that O’Chunks could just barely hear. Nastasia returned her full attention to the Count.

“Get up,” he tried to snarl, but his voice was too weak. “Stop loafing about. Count Bleck must move on to the next world.”

Before he could try to reach for his wand, and before Nastasia could say anything, O’Chunks wrapped his long arms around the Count and Nastasia, pressing both of them against his stomach and trapping the Count.

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“Wha-!”

“We’re not leaving today!” O’Chunks growled. “I just got the tent set up. We ‘aven’t even finished making dinner yet.”

“O’Chunks!” Nastasia kicked her leg impotently. “Let him do what he wants.”

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“Nassy, I don’t think ‘e can leave,” O’Chunks sat back, still carrying both of them. “Too sick. What if we land somewhere dangerous?”

Nastasia went silent. He couldn’t see her past the Count’s lolling head. He waited until the Count broken-recorded his line twice more.

“Yeh can’t jus’ let ‘im do whatever, Nassy. We ‘ave t’take care of ourselves. Wandering about lost in the woods all th’time is dangerous. We cannae afford to get this sick.” The Count’s elbow blade was jutting awkwardly against O’Chunks’ arm. The cape softened the poke, but he really needed to shift them around… would Nastasia listen?

He waited a little longer. It was a little unsettling to notice that the Count complained once exactly every thirteen seconds. At least he was running out of energy. He was getting quieter. But O’Chunks was letting himself get distracted. He had to listen carefully for Nastasia’s voice or he was going to miss it, especially under the broken-record chorus.

“Fine.” There it was. He lowered the two of them until Nastasia’s feet could touch the ground, but didn’t let go for fear the Count would actually try to get to his bag. They had already had to leave behind O’Chunks’ flashlight once before, in order to catch him when he opened a portal unexpectedly.

“Unhand Count Bleck,” the Count mumbled, barely audible, barely managing his t’s and k’s.

“I know yeh don’t get sick, Nassy, but th’Count’s health ‘as been really bad the whole time I’ve been with yeh,” he said softly. “Did yeh really just hop around willy-nilly for days on end like he keeps tryin’?”

He felt Nastasia’s weight shift. She must have looked away. “… The Count makes those calls,” he could practically feel her a ’quiver back there. Of course she’d be upset. “Yeah, it’s his quest, not mine.”

“Not both o’yours…?”

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“He’s the boss.” He felt a shift in her weight again, so he lowered the two so Nastasia could sit down. The Count slumped forward against his arm. At least he wasn’t heavy.

O’Chunks tilted his head. It was easier to see Nastasia with the Count’s head out of the way. “D’yeh think he thinks of it that way?”

She stiffened, and then turned her head carefully toward the ground.

“Unhand Count Bleck.”

“Yeh be quiet,” O’Chunks said. He saw the corner of Nastasia’s mouth just barely twitch upward for a second. “What d’yeh think, Nassy?” he pressed.

She frowned. “… I… don’t know what to think,” she admitted.

“Yeh know what I think?”

“What’s that.”

He adjusted his arm and shifted the Count, trying to get more comfortable. “I think yeh could try t’help yer friend get back on ‘is feet an’ ask ‘im whose journey this is.” He perhaps didn’t know the Count- or whoever he had been- well enough to just assume what the answer would be, but he had a feeling. Loyalty- devotion- like Nastasia’s didn’t spring up without respect or care. Whatever had happened to him, the Count had clearly been giving Nastasia something she sorely needed while he was well. And O’Chunks would bet a basket of the flakiest biscuits it was something like friendship.

Thinking about biscuits was making him hungry again. But he really didn’t trust the Count to not start up again once he let go. The Count’s book was stuck under O’Chunks’ backside for the time being, but he figured the moment it was within his sights, the Count would start trying to get up and go again. Or, just as bad, become very frustrated about not getting up and going.

He almost missed it. But he heard, or thought he heard, Nastasia’s quiet sniff. She was still turned so he couldn’t see her face well, so he couldn’t be sure. But… there it was again.

“Oh, you two,” he sighed. He pulled them both closer. Both of them needed a lot of very big hugs. He didn’t think he could ever give them as many as they needed.

“Unhand Count Bleck,” he started up weakly again.

Nastasia took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the Count’s shoulder. She turned her head upward, watching the cloud of trailing smoke from their cooking fire drift upward and blot out small patches of stars.

“Unhand Count Bleck…”

O’Chunks thought about how they could salvage the, er, “stir fry” he’d been watching Nastasia butcher. He could probably handle the rest of the cooking tonight and put her on dish duty again. They all needed to have basic survival skills, but… he hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be for someone who didn’t eat food to learn to cook. At least twenty years ago, now, she’d said when he asked. Yeah, that was the last time I ate. I don’t miss it.

“… Unhand…”

The Count went quiet.

He looked the Count over with a mild curiosity. He seemed like he’d actually fallen asleep, without either of them telling him to. Was it progress, or was he just that exhausted?

“Think I can let go now, Nassy?”

“… Yeah. Yeah, ‘k, let’s get back to work.”

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#spm #super paper mario #o'chunks #nastasia #count bleck #i think blue heard a lot more of that conversation than o'chunks thinks he did #arc 4

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