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roraruu · 1 year

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wip: message in a bottle

for petrashe week. you can follow the event on twitter

The battle is harsh. The extreme heat that makes even the strongest of soldiers sick to their stomachs and makes armour unbearable to wear.

Fighting through the Kingdom’s tattered defense is not an easy task for any of them, but for Petra, it’s harder. She’s a skilled fighter yes, quick on her feet and deadly fast in comparison to the other Leicester-born fighters and recruits, but something deep in the pit of her stomach warns her against fighting.

In fact, part of her wants to turn tail and run.

She is quick to remind herself that she fights not for herself, but for Brigid. Running now would only be a sign of weakness and bring shame to her people, her beloved lands. Brigid, she reminds herself over and over in her head, I do this for Brigid.

Briefly, she allows herself to think back to the clear water, the cool zephyrs that tickled her skin, the laughter of her little brother and sister. She does this for them, for Brigid, so that they will not have to kneel to the Empire any longer; that one day, they will be able to stand tall like the prince and princess they are.

She slashes through the discarded armour of a foolish knight, boiling in the metal. The knight lets out a pitiful cry as his blood spills onto the burning ground, going up in terrible-smelling smoke as she moves ahead.

Onto the next one.

The battle becomes a blur of her sword slashing, the dance of her feet across hot coals, the quick hiss of a landed blow. Dodge, slash, dodge; the dance changing tempo and speed as she hurries along, never once missing a beat.

That is, until an arrow skinned her tattooed arm. She lets out a cry, her blood flying onto the burning ground as she looks in the direction of her attacker, and finds the dead eyes of an archer.

Ashe.

His gaze softens, and in his eyes she sees all the trials of war that weigh heavy on such a tender-hearted soul. Pain, needless death, sleepless nights; the same fruitless battles that she faces every sunless dawn and dark night.

How will I live with myself? His gaze seems to ask.

Then the archer snaps back to focus, pulling another bow from his quiver.

Petra holds her hands up. “Ashe! No!” She cries out.

“I-I can’t lose.” The archer says with shaky determination. “This is the path I have chosen to walk.”

“No it is not!” Petra yells at him. She has heard tale of the grief-stricken king, the reaper of death and his blood-stained hands. “You did not choose this for yourself!”

“I did!” He yells back at her, his hands shaking as he nocks an arrow and struggles to take aim at Petra’s chest, where her leather armour breaks. “I chose this for Lonato, for Christophe, for my brother and sister!”

Petra lowers her sword. His fingers twitch on the bow’s handle and tremble against the shaft of the arrow. “You chose to die a meaningless death?” Petra challenges.

His green eyes flash with fear, then harden.

She hears hoofbeats. The ground shakes, pebbles jumping and bounding up as not one but two cavaliers approach. They fly banners of alabaster and cerulean; Kingdom army. Gwendal’s men. She tenses, her grip tightens around the hilt of the sword.

Petra makes the foolish mistake of glancing behind herself to see the two cavaliers—one on a black mare, the other on a chocolate stallion—ran at her at full-speed. Ashe makes the foolish decision of not taking the shot.

Death approaches on horseback. Funny, she always envisioned that she would die on the beaches of Brigid, staring out into the beautiful ocean.

But that is not the case, and so, she will die fighting.

She raises her sword and readies to meet the end.

The roar of the horses is deafening. Her blade flashes like a streak of lightning over and over. She prepares to feel the burning of the arrow in her skin, the screaming ache that will consume her and send her down the river, into the next life.

Quietly, between herself and the solitude of her mind, she thinks that dying by his hand is a pitiful mercy bestowed upon her by a goddess she doesn’t follow, nor cares for.

Then, she sees an arrow fly. And then another. It hits soldier on the back of the horse square in the neck.

Her eyes briefly meet his. In that dead-eyed gaze, she sees the sweet boy who walked to the market with her, a pocket full of coupons, kindness and patience for her.

And so, Petra raises her sword and takes down the other cavalier with ease. Blood smears her hands as the frightened creature bays and whinnies.

Then, as if his trance is broken, Ashe snaps back to reality. His hands shake nervously, the spilled blood on his hands as he holds her gaze for a split second.

“Will you spare my life?” He asks with tense caution.

Petra nods. “You have spared mine. I will return the favour.”

He reaches for the horse’s tangled reins, his hand curling tight around the leather. “You have my sincerest gratitude Petra.” He whispers.

“Not so fast.” She says, catching his hand. Ashe’s panicked eyes meets hers. “You should not be alone right now.”

“I can’t stay. I need to leave before someone notices me.”

“Then I am coming with you.”

“You can’t. The Alliance will wonder where you went.”

She grabs his shoulders. “Ashe. I am not leaving you.” She says with the determination of a queen. “We will be figuring this out together.”

Someone yells for her nearby. She mounts the horse with unsure hands and reaches down for him. Ashe looks up with worry, his hand just inches from hers.

Then, he swiftly takes it, grabs the reins and spurs the horse forwards, speeding off through the ash-ridden valley.

***

The stars shine brightly overhead.

It’s too pretty, too optimistic a sight during a war. It reminds her of home on clear nights. For a moment, against the hoofbeats and jolting run of the horse, Petra thinks of her fathers telling her and her siblings stories beneath the stars.

Her heart aches. He fought to avoid his children having to face a war; and yet, his eldest is fighting one that is not her own.

But, she rationalizes, this war will free Brigid of its vassalage to the Empire, and reinstate it’s long-dormant independence. And following that, hopefully, she and the Fane of Dagda can convene on matters of their own shaky alliance.

The horse heaves from running so fast for so long. Ashe tugs the reins, the horse slowing to a stop before a small, stretch of straggly trees, which quickly loose their foliage with the howling wind.

Petra searches her leather pack for goods. There’s a half-drunk vulnerary, some extra bow-strings inside and a few bits of dried jerky. Her skin of water, is almost-empty. Her eyes meet his. Ashe shows her an equally-light pack, a half-drunk skin of water inside, some herbs wrapped in cloth.

Nothing much between the two of them. And she does not know where they are, but by the way Ashe’s jaw sets, it’s nowhere good.

“Where are we?” She asks.

“Galatea, I think.” He swallows hard. “We need to keep moving as soon as the horse is rested.”

“We need to get back to the monastery.” Petra says. “The professor will hear your case and let you go.”

“My case?” He asks.

“You spared me when you could have killed me.” She says. “Claude and the Professor will see the courage in that, and the goodness in your heart.”

“Petra, I…” He sighs. “I don’t think I can go back to the monastery.”

“What? Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“Ashe, do not be withholding this from me.” She says firmer. Her hand wraps around his. “Let me share your burdens.”

He eyes her cautiously.

“It’s nothing you can help carry.”

Petra shakes her head. “I am your friend.” She pauses. “Or... I once was. Will you not take that to heart?”

Ashe glances away, his brow knit. Petra sighs, then turns to the horse. “He will be needing water.” She says.

“Oh. Yes.”

The horse, still nervous from being commandeered by a turncoat and enemy, tenses. Ashe approaches from the side, holding his hand out. “Easy boy, I’m here to help.” He coos gently.

He glances to Petra, then nods. She snatches the reins from out of his line of sight. She holds them out to Ashe.

“Come here, boy. There’s a nice pond for you to drink from.” The archer encourages. Reluctantly, the horse follows him to the nearby pond. In the moonlight, Ashe looks like a true knight. His armour glimmers against the azure moon, the blood on his hands hidden by the shadows.

Then he looks to her. His gaze holds hers, searing Petra alive, as if they never left Ailell. Her heart thunders in her chest.

“I hurt you earlier.” Ashe says quietly. “Let me remedy that.”

Ashe ties the reins up against a nearby tree, the horse unbothered as it drinks the water. Petra comes closer, and feels the burn in her arm increase. Funny, she didn’t register it until he mentioned the wound. Adrenaline must have distracted her from the pain.

“You’re flush.” He whispers, raising his hand to her forehead. “Seiros, you must have a fever.”

“I am fine.” She insists. “We need to get back to the monastery, now.”

“Petra, we are not going any further until you’re patched up.”

(Easy to say when they’re in the middle of nowhere.)

With renewed determination, Ashe searches through his packs and finds white-pedalled flowers. “I can’t make them into a tea.” He murmurs to himself. “You’ll have to eat the heads.”

Her brow raises.

“Trust me.”

Her eyes soften a little. Trust. She takes the flowers from him, stealing one last uncertain glance from him before popping the heads from the flowers and chewing them. The taste is bitter and acidic, making her cringe. But it’s the perfect distraction as Ashe brings a soaked handkerchief to her wound and washes away the dried blood.

His brow knits as he works, his fingers carefully tracing the spot where his arrow cut her flesh. Her tattoo is split, the purple ink will lighten in the spot where he claimed—

The pain stops her thoughts. She tense beneath his grip.

“Breathe through it.” He instructs gently, quickly applying something cool and wet against her arm. “Focus on someone you love.”

She stares at him, her trembling hands knotting into fists. There’s soot on his cheeks from fighting in Ailell, covering his freckles. His hair is tangled, a little messy. And the bags beneath his eyes tell a story of sleepless nights in devoted prayer, asking the goddess if this truly is his path to walk.

His eyes meet hers. “Do you have gauze?”

She nods, her head flicking to her pack. Ashe hesitates, then reaches into the back. Between straps of worn leather she can feel his hand slip down and grasp the roll of gauze. He winds it around her arm, then brings his face dangerously close to her skin and rips the gauze with his teeth.

“There.” He says, then meets her gaze. “Are you okay to ride?”

She nods, feeling a little lightheaded, but pushes past it with ease. Ashe slides his boot into the stirrups, swings his body over and then reaches down to help her up. She settles behind him, her arms tight around his waist as he spurs the horse forwards and they streak off into the night.

***

Without realizing, sleep had washed over Petra, and she had passed out against his back. She remembers nothing of the ride, and scraps of memory come to her only when she wakes, slung on the arm of a man who she doesn’t know.

“Shh. It’s me.” He says. His voice is distorted but the fever that eats her alive.

Ashe. She recognizes his touch though. She eases a little, then realizes that they are going upstairs into an inn. “Act natural.” He insists. “We’re not comrades.”

“This way, sir! Can your wife walk, or will she be needing assistance?” A voice calls. “The livery man is quite strong. He could lift her as if she is nothing!”

“That’s quite alright,” he insists, his hand on her waist. Then, it slips down the side of her hip and behind her knees. “I can carry her. Will you send for a cleric? We were ambushed by bandits on our way in.”

“Will do.”

Petra’s eyes can barely focus, her body shivering and shaking against her will. She looks up and sees him. He’s carrying her as if she weighs no more than the quiver on his hip or the bow on his back.

She stares blankly up at him as he glances down at her. “It’ll be alright. I promise.”

Promise. She tenses at the word.

Slumber washes over her once more, like a rolling wave along the sandy shore.

***

She comes to, delirious and shivering. Ashe is there by her side. He shucks off his coat, touching sweat-stained sheets and wraps her up in the blue fabric.

“Here,” he says gently, trying to peel off the sheets from beneath her.

“I’m… so c-cold,” she murmurs.

“That’s because your fever hasn’t broken.”

Sunlight filters through the curtains, setting the tiny rented room in a late afternoon glow. She swallows, her mouth dry. He reaches for a nearby cup, filling it with water. “Drink,” he says, holding the cup to her lips.

It takes all her strength to drink back the water.

“A cleric is supposed to come through later.” He says, then looks to the wound on her arm. “To see if it’s infected.”

Petra nods, easing back against the bed. Cold attacks her, her frame trembling against her will as she curls in his coat. “My arms feels like it is has been set on fire.”

Ashe tenses. “Move the coat?”

It is a Herculean effort to slide the sleeve of the coat down, but she eventually does. Parts of her arm, where the arrow made contact, have turned red.

“Goddess above.”

Petra pulls the coat closer to her. “Ashe,” she whispers.

“Yes?”

“Lay with me? I am so cold.”

She watches at he tenses, then sighs and climbs onto the bed with her. She shakes uncontrollably, her body wracking as he eases against her. She curls into his chest, willing herself to be warm, and lets herself once more be claimed by sleep’s seductive call.

***

The next time she wakes, there is a cleric standing before her with narrowed eyes. She asks of the symptoms as Ashe walks through the lie with rehearsed ease.

They are husband and wife from Leicester. They were ambushed on the mountain trail nearest Charon and chased out to Galatea. And no, she is not expecting.

The cleric seems apprehensive to use white magic at first, but once she sees how infection has spread along Petra’s arm, she disbands all worry. Within seconds, Petra feels the relief of the white magic, tingling up her arm as if it has just woken up from sleep.

Still, her body aches and she is exhausted. Part of it is the war, another part is the dissipating wound.

“Feverfew tea to help with the pain. No hard work until she is back at regular strength.”

The cleric finally leaves, and Ashe shuts the door behind her. He stares at the wood for a moment, not moving as Petra slowly sits up, still wrapped up in his coat.

He turns slowly, his eyes meeting hers, slightly glassy. He bites his lip. “I’m going to get some hot water for tea. Feverfew should help with the pain.”

The time alone is agonizing. But, lying in this bed, she curls into his coat, the smell of violets and his scent wrapping around her as she slowly begins to feel better.

When Ashe returns, she drinks back the bitter tea, and they order a small plate of food each, eating quietly, a murmur here, a nod there.

Then, night falls. Ashe eases against the ground.

“You are not sleeping there.”

He gives her a side look.

“You had laid with me before—“

He blushes bright red. “M-Maybe use another word, Petra.”

The princess frowns. “Please, at least stay a little closer. I would be feeling horrible if you slept on the ground because of me,”

“But there is only one bed.”

“And?”

“I… I wouldn’t want to… desecrate your honour by sleeping beside you.”

“There is little honour left in me.”

He falls quiet at such words.

She forces a smile. “Consider it a command?” She asks. “By a princess?”

Reluctantly, he scoops his pillow from the ground and trods closer, easing onto the bed. It groans with his weight, and becomes much smaller. He tries to give her room, as much as he can, politely stiff a nd teetering on the edge of the mattress.

But, in the morning sunlight, Ashe finds himself curled against her back. The warmth from Petra’s body is too welcoming, beckoning him back to slumber with his arm over the soft skin of her waist. A sleepy sigh, and he breathes in the soft smell of her perfume mixed with the smell of ash.

And he promptly throws himself into a cold bath, not bothering to pay the extra gold mark for hot water.

***

Two nights in the inn becomes expensive. More than they have in their scant coin purses. The innkeeper doesn’t look too impressed when they dump the contents on the bar counter. Petra’s hand comes out to slap down a runaway coin, Ashe’s hand over hers.

Her cheeks heat for a moment, her fingers curling around the cool metal. She turns to the innkeeper. “How much is left?”

Her voice is thin, it does not sound like her own. She clears her throat.

“A hundred and twenty-six.”

She balks at the price. Accommodations have climbed since the war’s beginning, however, she expected something a little less expensive. Surely, if she mentioned that she was apart of the Alliance—

No, that would rear more problems. They might end up in another predicament of running away. A former Adrestian general turned Alliance recruit and a runaway Faerghan soldier would not been taken kindly in a land of dedicated knights.

She glances at Ashe, who stares at the ground. No more commoner techniques hidden up his sleeves. At least, not in such a precarious moment.

Petra reaches to her ears, plucking out her thin earrings, made of green sapphire pulled from the earth to mark her birth. They had been her mother’s for sometime, but when Petra returned to Brigid before the war’s full-tilt, her mother had bestowed them upon the princess.

“Payment.” She says, resting the earrings on the bar. “I expect the excess back in marks.”

Ashe stares at her. The innkeeper snatches the earrings, disappearing into the back.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“We had no other options.” Petra says quietly. “We could not barter anything.”

“We had the horse.”

“And return on foot?”

Ashe holds her gaze with icy resolution. “I suppose you’re right,” he concedes.

The innkeeper returns with a plump little bag of gold. Ashe takes a bag and inspects it. “Shouldn’t there be more?”

“My wife said she didn’t recognize the jewel.”

“It’s green sapphire.”

“Yes, a rarity.” Ashe says, not daring to mention the lucrative mining trade in Hevring. “So shouldn’t there be more?”

The innkeeper holds his gaze for a moment, then leans behind the bar and produces another, smaller bag.

The archer nods, takes both bags and nods his head. “My wife and I thank you for your hospitality.”

Wife. She tenses a little at the word, then stiffens as he takes his hand in hers. “Quickly now.” He whispers in her ear.

With quickened steps, they walk out to the stables, where the horse waits, helps Petra up first, then mounts and flicks the reins, once, twice.

Petra’s arms link around his waist, her face against his shoulder. She still wears his cloak, snow beginning to fall as they move south through Galatea territory.

***

Halfway through the day’s ride, they have to cross one of the rivers of Galatea. The horse balks, whinnies and cries as they approach the rushing water. Despite the falling snow, the rivers of Faerghus thrash and flow. Petra has never seen such a thing.

She shivers against him.

“A little farther, then we’ll rest.” He tells her.

She nods into his back.

“I should have worn warmer clothes.”

He stays quiet, the unspoken joke that they were fighting in an active volcano lingers between them as they approach the border crossing. No knights guard it, the alliance between Galatea and Charon are strong. Galatea’s thin forces must be spread out or focused on the border of Galatea and Ailell.

Or worse, they might be wiped out thanks to the battle from the days before.

“You can keep my coat for as long as you need.” He says, his voice carried away by the wind. “I’ve got thick skin.”

Petra nods, adjusting her aching grip around his waist.

Neither dare to mention the Alliance or Faerghus or the war. One never knows who is listening. And speaking of the future at such a precarious time is not wise either, yet…

As they dismount from the horse, taking the reins in their hands and guiding the scared creature with steady hands and a tempting carrot, Petra speaks.

“How are your siblings?”

Ashe’s eyes flash with worry. They are alone on the bridge. “I… I don’t know.” He confesses. “They are back home—“

Gaspard territory.

“I did not get a chance to write them. I miss them.”

Petra nods. “I have understanding of that emotions.” She murmurs. “I miss my family too.”

“I never asked, but, do you have siblings?”

She nods. “A little brother and sister.”

Ashe scoffs a little. “And here I thought you were an only child.”

She shakes her head. “No. They are back home.”

The waves thrash. “So… You do this…”

The war.

“For them, yes.” Petra says. “As you do for your siblings.”

He meets her eyes for a second.

“As the eldest, we must do what the younger siblings cannot.” She says. “It is our burden to bear.”

They stop walking. “It’s a heavy one,” His voice borders on breaking.

She dares to touch his hand again, a shiver—unsure whether its from the cold or him—runs down her spine. “But we carry it nonetheless.” She tells him tenderly. “Ashe, you can lean on me.”

His eyes grow glossy. He blinks quickly.

“We should…” His voice dies for a second. “We should continue crossing.”

He pulls his hand from hers, tempting the horse with a forced smile and wave of the carrot. Petra stares at him, her heart tightening in her chest.

***

Another night in another inn. He tries to take the floor once more. She returns from a warm bath—if she had to say goodbye to those earrings, she will ensure that they get her something good—to see him curled up on the cold hardwood. He uses his arm as a pillow.

“Stop that.” Petra commands and he grows wide-eyed, a blush on his face as he looks up at her. “We have been through this once before.”

“Apologies.” He murmurs, sitting up. His eyes trace her legs, then up her frame with a blush on her face. He tears his eyes away quickly.

Petra sits on the bed, trying to comb her fingers through her hair. It still smells of fire from Ailell, and the winter wind has only made it worse with tangles. She sighs.

“Do… Do you want a hand?”

He stands at the foot of the end, glancing at her nervously.

“I used to do my little sister’s hair a lot.”

“Do you know how to braid?”

“Not as nicely as yours, but I can do a little.”

Petra nods. “Okay. Try then.”

She turns her back to him and fans her hair out. She feels him run his fingers through her hair, then down her back. He sections off her hair.

“What is your sister’s name?” She asks.

There’s silence for a moment.

“Violetta. Vi for short.”

Petra smiles a little. “Is that why your favourite flower is a violet?”

“N-Not the whole reason.” He says. “I just like them on their own.”

Her eyes focus on the knotted wood.

“You must miss your siblings a lot.” He says.

She nods as he gingerly pulls her hair back, deftly weaving it. She doesn’t feel smaller braids, like she’s taken to wearing in the last short while. Her hands fold in her lap. “I miss them with every passing day. I fear I cannot write, the messengers can’t get through the Empire.”

He sympathetically winces. He will have the same problem, should he decide to join the Professor and Claude. It too, will be a heavy burden to bear, atop the mountain of wounds.

It settles upon him then that this is goodbye to the Kingdom of Faerghus. That just like the foreign princess before him, Ashe has been pulled into the conflict not his own.

He knots a ribbon in her hair. Petra glances into the shard of the mirror and sees her reflection, staring back at her. Her hair is pulled into a long braid, at the crown of her head. She tenses a little.

For a second, she sees her younger self.

“I love it,” she says softly, and oh how the archer glows red.

They settle in for a well-deserved rest on the opposite sides of the inn bed.

#petrashe #petra macneary #ashe ubert #fe3h #fe three houses #yeah i wrote this in a haze while listening to oc remix's lover reef bruh #AND THERE WAS ONE BED

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pathetic-gamer · 2 years

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Ok I literally just made a different post about this, BUT: time to get emo about it, baby!!! Ashe and Felix's relationship is actually extremely complex and carries a surprisingly hefty amount of character development for both of them, for a pair with only two supports.

The central thesis here: Ashe + Felix is Felix + Glenn 2.0

This ramble breaks down the ways that dynamic matches and what it means for Ashe. (I've already gone into Fe's a while back, so he's not really the focus here.)

This got long and I have feelings. A gift from me to you: courtesy cut.

Hello and Welcome to Blue Lions With Dead or Missing Siblings Anonymous. My name is Sylvain/Dedue/Felix/Ashe/Mercedes and I haven't seen my sibling in 5/<9/9/9/~15 years. These kids need help.

First things first, I don't think this is Replacement Brother Syndrome. Rather, I think their dynamic mirrors Felix and Glenn's but as a distinct relationship for both Felix and Ashe, because neither of them is going into this in the exact same role as they had with their own now-dead brothers. We know that, as a kid, Felix was idealistic and clingy and looked up to Glenn and his role as a knight with his whole heart, but Glenn was also somewhat abrasive and cynical, and now Felix is, too. Meanwhile, Christoph was focused on teaching Ashe trust and chivalry up to the very end, and Ashe still lives by that. Felix doesn't match that role at all, and Ashe doesn't expect him too. A new and different brother doesn't count as a replacement brother.

According to Dimitri, Glenn was sarcastic and rude and liked to pick fights, but despite that, Felix admired him and wanted to be strong like him and says he was a great knight. (Note that he gets mad at his father treating Glenn's death like it was heroic, but he at no point does he argue that Glenn wasn't a strong and good knight, only that Glenn was reasonable in his commitment to his ideals. This is a surprise tool that will help us later.)

Felix is ALSO abrasive and likes to pick fights, but Ashe admires him and his strength and says he's like a great knight.

Glenn teaches Felix to think for himself and not blindly take orders. Felix tells Ashe very bluntly to think for himself and not get himself killed in his blind enthusiasm.

Later, Felix amends that statement to say he doesn't want Ashe to abandon his ideals, just to be reasonable. That matters, because Felix said he learned from his brother, but his brother was the one who read him the tales of chivalry and bravery and knighthood and all of that in the first place. Glenn taught him balance, not cynicism, it just took him some time to grow into it. Once he did, he tried again to pass it on to Ashe, but properly this time.

"It's OK to be who you are" FELIX PLEASE I'M GOING TO CRY

Meanwhile, Ashe's older brother, Christoph, didn't. He was about trust and chivalry through and through, and it's what got him killed. Look at these exchanges with Catherine.

(Side note, I'd argue that Catherine's support chain is the one that carries Ashe's character development on its back, but Fe comes in second place, followed by my archnemesis Gilbert. Meanwhile, Ashe carries Fe's, together with Ingrid and Seteth. I know that every single one of you is going to disagree w me on this, and I'm OK w that and would not be upset if yall came into my ask box to demand an explanation, since I love to talk lmao)

Cynicism couldn't save Glenn, trust couldn't save Christoph. So Ashe had to learn cynicism from Felix, and Felix had to make sure Ashe knew to keep it in balance with his own beliefs and ideals. Thats... a lot.

What really makes it stick for me, though, is this exchange after Felix tells Ashe that Glenn used to read him tales of knights and chivary:

Like, tell me that's not a conversation baby Felix had with Glenn at some point. I'm so upset right now lol

Idk, there's no point to this, I was just reading supports, as I tend to do in my spare time, apparently, and it came to me in a divinr revelation. Also, it's weird that they max out at b-support, since they have paired activity dialogues and the only other person Fe has paired dialogues with is Dimitri. (Who, by the way, I have a whole other spiel abt, in addition to the spiel I posted a while back, bc I think their relationship is a whole ass case study on family dynamics and I didn't quite get into that in the first one.)

A lot of Fe and Ashe’s B-support could honestly be an A-support, so if I were adding a third support, I think it would have to go between the current C and B? I have no idea, I just want to see more of it lol. Maybe let them have an unrelated conversation and then come back to the book in the A support, now with more of a friendship in place so it doesn't go from "your book is stupid" straight to "hey, let me give you some life advice that shows my character growth more clearly than literally any other scene in this entire fucking game" with nothing in the middle.

-fin-

#I'm supposed to be doing my real life job. like I literally have to go to a meeting in like 20 minutes #but here I am crying actual tears over this fictional fraternal relationship #this has nothing to do with my own relationships with my brothers ha ha definitely not #those are completely fine and healthy #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #felix hugo fraldarius #ashe ubert #felix and ashe #fe3h characters #fe3h felix #fe3h ashe #blue lions #fe3h blue lions #fe3h character analysis #honestly might make these for all the blue lions and other characters that are interesting to me?#would be fun to do another about ashe bc i think ive overlooked him for a while #we all know my feelings on annette (my daughter-in-law via felix who is my son)#but I'd like to do one on gilbert and that would have to include her obviously #i have another about felix and dimitri bc ive recently realized theyre estranged brothers not estranged friends #definitely could do stuff for the other four since there's plenty to unpack #would also be cool to do one on Catherine??? this one made me realize theres a lot there

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terpia · 3 years

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Early Modern Drama Rec List (Non-Shakespeare)

So I just spend a year reading a lot of early modern drama and I thought I might as well put my degree to a good use and make a list of some of my favourite lesser known (i.e. not written by Shakespeare) early modern plays. All of these plays are in the public domain, so it should be very easy to find them online.

Comedies:

The Roaring Girl by Thomas Middleton and Thomas Dekker - a fictional story featuring a dramatized portrayal of a real person, Mary Firth, also known as Moll Cutpurse. Moll was a notorious pickpocket, wore a doublet and breeches, smoked a pipe, cursed, and was generally infamous for her 'mannish' behaviour. And she's a character in this play!

It is open to interpretation how positive the play's depiction of Moll really is, but she does play a very important role in getting the main pair of lovers together and ends the play happily continuing to live her life the way she wants, which is in itself pretty incredible. Overall, just a really fun read.

Galatea (or Gallathea) by John Lyly - a 16th century play that is both gay and trans??? Sign me up! In a village where the fairest virgin needs to be sacrificed to Neptune every 5 years (or he'll drown everyone), two fathers decide to disguise their beautiful daughters as boys and hide them in a nearby forest. While wandering around the forest the two girls meet and, falling for each other's disguises, fall in love. In the end (spoilers for the ending, but this is not exactly a play you read for the plot, lol), Diana stops Neptune, the two girls find out each other's true identities and decide they're still in love, and Venus turns one of them (we never find out which one) into a boy so that they can get married.

As must be clear from this summary, this comedy plays around with gender a lot. To add to the gender cocktail, remember that the two girls would have been originally played by boys. Although the ending was seen as heteronormative by early queer critics, the emergence of trans criticism within queer theory has led to a lot of interesting readings of the play. Well worth a read.

(also, if you have a device on which you can play DVDs and some money to spare, consider buying a DVD of the Edward's Boys production of the play. Edward's Boys is a group that replicates the format of early modern boys' companies, with all roles in their productions being played by boys. I will admit, when I bought a DVD of their 2014 production of Galatea, I expected to watch a glorified high school performance, but it turned out to be so good. All the boy actors were amazing, way better at performing Shakespeare than a lot of Hollywood actors. This just straight-up felt like a professional theatre production, I highly recommend it.)

The Knight of the Burning Pestle by Francis Beaumont - I don't even know how to describe this play other than 'fantastic and fun'. A meta-theatrical city comedy, which starts with a pair of audience members (who were actually two dressed-up boy actors from the boys' company performing the play) jumping onto a stage and demanding to see a different play than the the one being set up. Things get only wilder from there.

A genuinely really funny play. I don't know of anyone who has read it and hasn't immediately loved it.

The Sea Voyage by John Fletcher and Philip Massinger - one of the least well known plays out of this list, which is unfortunate because this play is really fun. Short and sweet, it's a story of a bunch of (surprisingly honorable) pirates, who get shipwrecked on an island inhabited by a tribe of Amazon-like women. Predictably, hijinks ensue. An interesting look into early modern gender relations (apparently the main reason why living without men would be difficult for women is because of how horny they would get? I think Fletcher and Massinger need to take a lesson or two from Lyly).

The Alchemist by Ben Jonson - want to see three assholes con a bunch of idiots in increasingly ridiculous ways? Then this is the play for you.

Jonson's city comedies, which satirize the people of early modern London, tend to be much meaner in tone than Shakespeare's comedies and the other comedies on this list, but in many ways, that's what makes them fun. Viciously clever and at times really funny, there's an edge to the writing that makes it very entertaining. I had a lot of fun reading this (Jonson's Epicoene is also great, if you want a comedy that's even meaner and also has some very questionable gay stuff in it).

Tragedies:

Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe - probably the most famous non-Shakespeare early modern play, and for a good reason. It has everything; pacts with the devil, a melodramatic anti-hero protagonist, homoeroticism (I mean of course, it's Marlowe), and a suitably gory and tragic ending. What more can you ask for?

The Tragedy of Mariam by Elizabeth Cary - this play is more interesting than fun, but I think it's still well worth a read. It's the first original play written in English by a woman. The play takes place in ancient Palestine. It looks at the way Mariam, a Jewish queen, reacts to the news of the death of her husband, the tyrannous Herod (yes, the baby-killing guy from the Bible). Most people seem to be relieved. Except oops, Herod is not actually dead.

A fascinating look at gender ideology in the early modern period, with the play centering around the conflict of a woman who tries to live up to the ideals of a perfect wife and woman, while stuck in a marriage to a tyrant. This play would also be a great read for anyone interested in how gender and sexuality intersected with race in early modern England, because this play uses a lot of racialized language to describe women.

The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster - a classic revenge tragedy. A recently widowed Duchess wants to marry her steward, but her asshole brothers throw a fit. Intrigue and death ensue. At one point a fake wax hand and some fake wax corpses appear on stage.

This play basically reads like a good thriller. Fucked up in a way that only an early modern revenge tragedy can be, this is a fun and thrilling read.

The Changeling by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley - speaking of fucked up. If you're planning to read it, be mindful that this play contains sexual assault. It's a story of a young noblewoman called Beatrice, who wants to get rid of her fiancé after falling in love with a visiting nobleman. To do it, she enlists the help of her villainous servant De Flores. Things end up going extremely badly.

This play can get very uncomfortable at times, but just like The Duchess, it's as gripping as any good modern thriller. Very engaging. The ending is as engrossing as it is stomach-churning, although probably not for the reasons it was originally meant to (reading criticism about The Changeling, it is genuinely shocking and disheartening to see how long it took for critics to start addressing the clear issues of consent in the play). The story also includes a bizarre virginity test that uses a potion which makes you drowsy or which makes you sneeze and laugh depending on whether you had sex or not, so hey, at least that's fun?

Antonio's Revenge by John Marston - ok, so this is definitely the least... good of the plays I've recommended so far, but listen. Do you like trainwrecks? Do you like violence so over-the-top that people to this day wonder whether it's actually supposed to be a parody of the revenge tragedy genre? Are you looking for a reading experience that will make you go 'what the fuck' throughout? If so, this is the play for you!

Very much in the so bad it's good category. Ridiculously gory. The only thing that makes it better is knowing that it was originally played by children (on a related note, I haven't seen this production, but I know that this play has also been played by Edward's Boys). If you like horrible, gory horror movies, you'll probably enjoy this play.

That's it for now! Hopefully at least a few of these plays catch your interest.

Btw, LibriVox, which is an organisation that makes public domain recordings of public domain texts, has most of these plays available as free audiobooks, if you're interested!

#early modern drama #early modern england #book rec #i don't know how else to tag this #i keep spending way too much time on these extremely niche posts #but hey i had fun writing this and maybe it'll end up being useful to someone who knows #alex's boring history corner #kind of???#shakespeare

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themattress · 3 years

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My Top 15 Favorite Gotham Characters

Plus one Honorable Mention.

Honorable Mention: Silver St. Cloud - She's an honorable mention because of how tragically the show wasted her. Silver was a standout character in 2A's “Rise of the Villains” arc, as we see all the layers peeled back from whimsical, kind-hearted, well-mannered young socialite to cruel, manipulative, cold-blooded agent of an evil religious cult to vulnerable, scared and remorseful girl in way over her head who forges a real emotional connection with Bruce. However, despite all the rich potential for her to develop even further as a character, she was never seen again after the 2A finale.

15. Tabitha Galavan - While as a character she's the very definition of a second-stringer, Tabitha is an interesting case study in what happens when a single ember of innocence is still left burning within the darkest of souls. Raised in the evil Order of St. Dumas and kept firmly under her older brother's thumb, Tabitha is certainly no angel, being the sort of person who will fatally stab an innocent old woman in the back and feel no remorse. But the desire to care and be cared for is still very strong in her, and we see it manifest many times: with Silver, and with Selina, and with Barbara, and of course with Butch. Unfortunately for Tabitha, she is also a case study in how this doesn't guarantee that such a person will receive a happy ending, as she is unable to avoid karmic justice.

14. Butch Gilzean - I didn't really care about Butch initially, since he didn't seem like anything more than Fish Mooney's affably evil muscle. After he became brainwashed into obeying the Penguin's every command, he gradually became more interesting and sympathetic, and by the time he got romantically involved with Tabitha I had become so accustomed to him and his perversely likable sort of villainy that I couldn't imagine the show without him. But maybe the show would have been better off without him after his death in the Season 3 finale, as the immediate retcon afterward of his real name being Cyrus Gold and his resurrection as Solomon Grundy in Season 4 was just nonsense, especially when he ends up just as dead in the Season 4 finale as he was in the Season 3 finale, so what was even the point? Sometimes, dead is better, and I’m sure Butch would agree.

13. Harvey Bullock - For much of Season 1 it felt like the writers were trying to play Harvey Bullock too seriously, and I think that was a mistake because the character always benefits from being played more broadly, and lord knows that Donal Logue can do that very well. Thankfully, that's exactly how he started to be played more often from Season 2 and onward, with whatever serious arcs he did receive such as in Season 4 benefiting from him being so much more likable as a result. I'd rather watch him on screen than Jim Gordon any day.

12. Leslie Thompkins - While initially kind of bland, Leslie "Lee" Thompkins is a character that grew on me overtime. I felt really sorry for her throughout Seasons 2 and 3 as Jim Gordon proved to be the worst love interest ever, bringing her no end of pain, and then in Seasons 4 and 5 she used that pain and anger to shape herself into a total badass anti-heroine who was still all about helping those in need but now was open to using less than moral means to accomplish this. She's a character who finished the show stronger than she'd ever been, and her and Barbara becoming bros is everything I never knew I needed.

11. Sofia Falcone - Sometimes, a sharp and devious mind is all it takes for someone to be a great villain, and damn did Sofia ever put hers to good use. In the comics, this was a forgettable character who was just an obvious thug in design and demeanor, but Gotham's version is terrifying in how petite and pretty and kind and charitable and all around attractive in every way she is...the perfect way to manipulate others and conceal that on the inside she's beyond just a thug; she's a raging, ruthless, vindictive, amoral sociopath who only cares about herself. And kudos to Crystal Reed, whose performance sold the character perfectly. The only real downside to Sofia is that the writers clearly were forced to write her out earlier than anticipated, and her abrupt exit from the show is nowhere close to being as satisfying as the build-up to her gaining power within the city would lead you to believe.

10. Ra's Al Ghul - As wonderful as Sofia was, there was never any question as to whom Season 4's most formidable villain was: the same villain who is the series' ultimate Big Bad, Ra's Al Ghul. Beyond the phenomenally perfect casting of Alexander Siddig, who is hands down the most comics-accurate portrayal of the character in live-action to date, Ra's benefits from the series positioning him as the final answer to the long-running "who killed Thomas and Martha Wayne?" mystery and totally being able to convince viewers that most of this series' events were according to his plans due to the self-assured, in-control and borderline omnipotent way the Demon's Head carries himself. No-one in Gotham City is left unchanged by his machinations, least of all his chosen "heir" Bruce Wayne.

9. Hugo Strange - The Big Bad of 2B's "Wrath of the Villains" arc is in the running for the show's most despicable villain. Professor Hugo Strange is a brilliant psychologist and scientist, but he is utterly devoid of a conscience and will do anything to achieve his twisted aspirations, from ruining peoples' lives with his experiments to bringing people back from the dead to personally ordering the death of those he considers to be friends. What makes Strange enjoyable in spite of his depravity is B.D Wong's performance: he looks absolutely perfect as a younger version of Hugo Strange and his voice seems to be channeling Corey Burton's Christopher Lee-inspired take from Batman: Arkham City. He's a much stronger villain than 2A's Theo Galavan, and tellingly got to return in every following season.

8. Edward Nygma - I really wish I could place Ed higher on this list, since the Riddler is one of my favorite Batman villains and Cory Michael Smith is perfect in the role. But sadly, he's the subject of some really weak writing throughout the show that holds him back from breaching my personal Top 5. Whether it be the constant Nice Guy(TM) hounding of Kristen Kringle, the bizarre Two Face-esque split personality angle, the ungodly stupid Isabella plot device and subsequent clashing with the Penguin because of it, his needless romance with Lee that didn't make sense for either of their characters (which wasn't helped by the fact that it happened at a time where he kept on getting made a fool of in a way that undermined how menacing he was just a season ago), and being used as an obvious red herring in the Haven explosion mystery...he really deserved better material, and it's lucky that Smith makes him so enjoyable to watch since it would otherwise drag him down much further.

7. Jerome Valeska - Cameron Monaghan's performance as Jerome single-handedly forced the Gotham producers' hands when it came to their original plans (or lack thereof) for the Joker in their series, as right off the bat he managed to perfectly capture the same maniacal energy that the likes of Mark Hamill and Heath Ledger did, meaning fans would accept no-one else in the role. While Jerome ends up being more of a test run for the actual Joker - the Beta Joker, so to speak - he still is one of the most frightening and malevolent characters in the show's entire run, spreading chaos for chaos' sake and causing pain to others just because he finds it hilarious, and doing it all in the most theatrical way possible.

6. Jeremiah Valeska - Yes, I agree that this character's whole basis - Jerome's secret twin brother who actually becomes the Joker - and how he was introduced is unbelievably stupid writing; in hindsight it would have made more sense to just find a way to transition Jerome into this kind of characterization as part of a continued evolution toward becoming the Joker. But we're stuck with Jeremiah, and as it stands he is a much worthier Joker than Jerome was. I don't really like the Joker whenever he's written to have no motivation beyond "random crime and chaos because LOL crazy!!!" - the best Jokers always have a reason for doing what they do, it's just that it's always a twisted reason that holds no basis in reality and just serves as an excuse for the Joker to spread pain and chaos across Gotham City and match wits with Batman. (Ex: Heath Ledger's Joker may say he has no plans and just "does things" as a manipulation tactic, but in reality he does make plans and does have the tangible objective of proving his nihilistic, anarchistic worldview to everyone; Batman in particular.)

Jeremiah's penchant for intricate planning combined with the psychotic objectives that lie behind his plans is what makes him more believable as the Joker compared to Jerome, and it really felt like the show's stakes rose to an entirely new, darker than ever before level when he stepped up to the plate at the end of Season 4. I also love his development: being in denial about his own insanity and likeness to his brother until his personal obsession with Bruce overpowers that and causes him to willingly give into the madness so that he can be a worthy enough foil for Bruce as Gotham's Dark Knight, since that gives his miserable life a sense of purpose. Add to this Cameron Monaghan still pulling off that Joker energy flawlessly and you have a Joker that can stand beside Nicholson, Ledger and Phoenix's portrayals.

5. Barbara Kean - This one really took me by surprise. I knew going into the show that Barbara was considered a poorly written, irritating obstructive love interest to Gordon in Season 1, but that she got Rescued From the Scrappy Heap in the following seasons. What I didn't know was the way that rescuing happened - she goes crazy and becomes a surprise villain in the Season 1 finale, and from then on out she is freaking nuts in the most hilariously over-the-top way, with Erin Richards chewing the scenery for all it's worth. Barbara is so entertaining throughout the various guises and positions she goes through across the series, not to mention a complete badass who you just can't help but respect for being true to herself even if she's an awful human being. Her redemption arc in Season 5 was a beautiful way to bring her journey full-circle, and I don't begrudge her the happy ending she got at all.

4. Alfred Pennyworth - We're all used to Alfred the butler, but Gotham got me accustomed to Alfred the soldier. Sean Pertwee is thoroughly convincing in the role of the hard-assed, frequently grumpy or moody yet caring, loyal and dependable Alfred, whose relationship with young Bruce Wayne is perfectly depicted. The only time I didn't care for him was during 2A, where he was cruel and unfair toward Selina because she killed his treacherous war-time buddy who almost murdered him and was planning on doing harm to Bruce. Thankfully, from the midseason finale and onward he managed to redeem himself, regaining his status as one of the show's best-depicted characters and maintaining it all the way to the end.

3. Bruce Wayne - This character was always going to live or die based on what child actor was playing him, and by God did David Mazouz nail it in his performance. Even putting the dead parents and destiny as Batman aside, Bruce Wayne is clearly not a "normal" kid, being raised in the lap of luxury and privileged to the point of extreme naïveté, with an overly formal way of speaking hammering in his distance from the rest of Gotham City. Watching him grow stronger and smarter and more worldly and responsible as the series progressed was always a pleasure, and he naturally made a far more compelling protagonist than Jim Gordon did, with the show ending on the shot that it does making it even more clear that this was primarily his story all along; just one elongated origin story for the goddamn Batman.

2. Selina Kyle - For quite a while in Season 1, the teenage girl who would be Catwoman spent a lot of time just slinking around the fringes of the story and accomplishing little of value. But once she finally met Bruce, Selina's character really took off, and she ended up becoming my second all-time favorite character in the show. Aside from the strong writing and character development, much is also owed to Camren Bicondova, who is utterly charming in her depiction of the cynical, sharp-tongued, street-smart thief with a heart of gold, and she is even able to make her rushed final transition into Catwoman in Season 5 believable. And kudos to Lili Simmons who plays her in the final episode, she is perfectly convincing as an adult version of Selina, looking and sounding just as I expect Bicondova to in a few years.

1. Oswald Cobblepot - OK, this is probably an unoriginal choice, but I can't help it - Oswald Cobblepot, aka the Penguin, is the one character on this show who just did no wrong as far as I'm concerned (as a character, I mean, he obviously did a lot wrong morally!) In addition to being the role Robin Lord Taylor was born to play, there is a consistency in the writing of his character and in the quality of his development that I think is unmatched by anyone else in the cast. Aside from that one blip in the Isabella plotline of Season 3 that I credit as more of a blemish on Ed than I do Oswald, he was always a fully three-dimensional character who acted and reacted believably, and he always stayed firmly on the line between being a heinous, ruthless, murderous criminal chiefly seeking power and a tragic, sympathetic, even funny and likable person chiefly seeking love. And he always remained the "noble villain" when compared to the other villains around him; always the one you could count on to join the heroes and do the right thing when it counted because he's a pragmatist with moral lines he will not cross....and because he loves and believe in Gotham City too, in his own way.

#Gotham #Opinion #Analysis

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weekendwarriorblog · 3 years

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THE WEEKEND WARRIOR 6/25/21: F9, WEREWOLVES WITHIN, THE ICE ROAD, FALSE POSITIVE, I CARRY YOU WITH ME and More!

Well, June is quickly coming to an end, but that means it’s officially summer. No, for real this time. Summer started June 21, and that means we have the latest attempt to revive the box office, and really, if this doesn’t do it, then we’re sunk. Doomed. It’s over, and Jeff Bock, the Streamer Relations guy, has won. We’re in the endgame now. Go to the movies this weekend, and don’t let Jeff Bock win!

Before we get to the theatrical releases, the 20th Tribeca [formerly Film] Festival ended over the weekend, and it certainly “looked different” as we were reminded every time some local celebrity introduced a movie on the festival’s virtual platform. As far as the movies I saw, a few are mentioned below but generally, the documentaries once again outplayed any of the narrative features, which was pretty much the same with other festivals this year. Besides the Rita Moreno doc that I reviewed last week, I quite enjoyed A-Ha the Movie, a documentary that covers the famous ‘80s “one hit wonders” travails since their first hit album and the ubiquitous “Take on Me.” It’s a great doc that really shows what can happen when you try to keep the band together even when you stop travelling or even talking to each other. Also Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James was another great musical doc about a funk/soul singer who I really never knew very much about, so it was quite educational. I also liked 7 Days quite a bit, and that was one of the better narrative films at the fest.

It felt like there were two very different Tribecas. There was one for the elitist journalists who were allowed to attend all the in-person screenings and parties, and there was the one for the rest of us -- where we were just sitting at home watching stuff on our TV sets, just like we did with Sundance and SXSW. And make no mistake, as someone who has been covering Tribeca since Year Two (where I *bought* all my tickets), it definitely felt like I was being pushed aside by the current Tribeca regime who just wants to be seen as something exclusive just for certain people, including as a woke festival catering to the underrepresented (but not really… if that was the case, they would have given free tickets out to people who live in the areas of the city where they set-up their pop-up screenings). I only know a few locals who received the better in-person badge -- pretty much the entire staff at IndieWire, for instance -- but as someone who has covered the festival for years and received a Hudson Pass for the effort, it definitely felt like I don’t really need to cover Tribeca anymore. It’s just not the elite festival it thinks it is, and as far as I’m concerned, it will never be Cannes, it will never be Sundance, and it will never even be SXSW. It continues to be a festival with zero identity that caters to the rich, white New Yorkers that already get special treatment wherever they go. I’m not even sure how much of it even takes place in Tribeca anymore, since the premier location for movie premieres seemed to be at Hudson Yards, which is about four miles North of “Ground Zero,” the area affected by 9/11 that precipitated the need for something like the Tribeca Festival in the first place. I feel that this year’s festival was an even bigger disappointment than last year’s virtual only, but that’s because they’ve finally just given up on the press they don’t feel are worthy of covering them. So yeah, not for me.

It’s hard to believe that F9 (Universal Pictures), the ninth movie in the “Fast Saga.” is finally being released in North America, since I felt like I reviewed it five years ago. Actually, it was only a month ago, but it just seems like forever since I’ve been so busy this month.

In case you have no idea what to expect and wanna know: Vin Diesel is back as Dominic Torreto, and this time we meet another member of his real family, brother Jakob (John Cena), who is now working with the criminal spy organization Cypher. Most of the gang are back, except for Dwayne Johnson’s Agent Hobbs and Jason Statham’s Deckard Shaw, who you may remember went off to make Hobbs and Shaw a few years back. In fact, that last movie was the last movie in the franchise, which was supposed to act as a tie-over between 2017’s Fate of the Furious and F9, which was originally supposed to come out in 2020. Got all that?

Hobbs and Shaw opened with around $60 million in early August, which is generally one of the few weekends in the late summer where a movie could still open big. That was the lowest opening for the franchise in over ten years, because ever since 2009’s Fast & Furious, every single movie has opened over $70 million and closer to $100 million or more. 2013’s Fast and Furious 6 and 2017’s The Fate of the Furious didn’t quite hit a $100 million opening, but still, it’s a pretty good barometer of how big the franchise was in the before-times. James Wan’s Furious 7 still sports the biggest opening with $147 million in early April 2015, hampered by the year-long delay after one of the film’s stars, Paul Walker, died in a car crash a year earlier. Walker’s death may have helped drive audiences to the movie with the same morbid curiosity way as Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight back in 2008. (Furious 7 grossed $353 million domestically, which is also a high watermark for the franchise domestically.)

The Fate of the Furious grossed slightly less than the previous two installments and then Hobbs and Shaw ended up with $173 million, which is nothing to sneeze at… unless your movie ended up costing $200 million, which that one did. We’re talking about very expensive movies here, and one presumes F9 is up there in that $200 million range, but it bodes a couple questions. Was the success of the franchise since Fast 5 mainly due to “franchise Viagra” Dwayne Johnson and was that helped by the addition of Statham? With the two of them gone, does that take away from the movie’s potential or do people like Diesel, Tyrese Gibson’s Roman, Ludacris and the other long-timers like Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster enough to make this an opening weekend must-see?

There might some questions whether theaters in bigger cities like New York and L.A., where F9 would generally do big business, will be as full as normal -- even with full capacity finally being allowed. The other question is whether Universal may have released this movie overseas too far in advance of the States. Think about it. When you start to think about movie piracy and where a lot of that comes from, it goes right to China, and a movie like this at a time like this when people are cautious about running to theaters, well if you walk down the street and someone is selling a copy for 5 bucks, why wouldn’t you buy it? That’s the reason why studios release movies day and date across the globe, or at least they try to. Piracy used to be a big thing hurting the movie business, but that seems to have been forgotten.

Reviews for the movie have been mixed -- I already reviewed the movie over at Below the Line -- but about the same as the last two installments, so those won’t necessarily stop people from going to the movies, since this is a classic summer popcorn movie where it feels like everyone should go see it opening week. Like in the past, F9 will open Thursday night for previews, but it seems to getting more Thursday night previews than normal -- I’ve seen five to six screenings in many locations -- and that might because Universal realizes how important this release is and how many people will be looking to see if it can revive theatrical.

I think I’m going to say that F9 will make around $72 to 74 million this weekend, which takes it back to Fast & Furious days, but I do think audiences will like the movie more than critics, and because of that, the decision to make two more movies will probably be warranted.

I was very excited to see Josh Ruben directing another movie so soon after last year’s Scare Me -- a terrific horror-comedy you can watch on Shudder -- and his latest film, WEREWOLVES WITHIN (IFC Films), based on the Ubisoft game, is just as funny AND scary. It stars Sam Richardson as Finn Wheeler, the new park ranger arriving in the small and remote town of Beaversfield, which seems to have just as much politics and backbiting as the biggest of the cities. He quickly becomes friends with the bubbly postwoman, Cecily (Milana Vayntrub), as she introduces him to the quirky townsfolk… oh, yeah, and there is something brutally mauling them to death.

The premise for Werewolves Within seems fairly simple, and maybe that’s because it is based on a VR game where I assume you have to figure out who is the vampire, so that’s pretty much what’s going on as Finn, Cecily and seemingly the entire town wind up locking themselves up in the Beaversfield Inn trying to figure out who is killing the others. Thankfully, there are more layers built into the ongoing relationships between the townsfolk.

Ruben’s got a lot of things going for his second feature film, the first thing being a super-funny script by Mishna Wolff, but also the amazing cast he put together that not includes Richardson and Vayntrub with some brilliant chemistry but also the likes of Michaela Watkins and Michael Chernus, who can never do wrong in my book. Those two elements alone would make Werewolves Within worthwhile, but Ruben ably takes on the challenges of a much bigger cast than his previous movie and finds a way to keep the viewer constantly on edge and interested in what will happen next, especially to some of the characters who are not as jovial or friendly as Richardson’s Finn.

But what works best about the movie is that there are plenty of unexpected twists, maybe some more obvious than others, and the fact you never really know who might die next or house keeps the movie quite entertaining. It also shows off Ruben’s great skills at combining horror and humor, something that’s very difficult for even the best directors, but when you’ve got it -- as Ruben proved so perfectly with Scare Me -- then you might as well use it to its fullest.

It’s hard to describe how well the humor works without using jokes ala something like Shaun of the Dead, but it’s more of a light-hearted charm that one wouldn’t expect to go so well with the dire situation in which the characters find themselves. It doesn’t hurt that many of the characters are so unlikable that getting their comeuppance adds to that humor. If you’re expecting a lot of werewolf transformations or even werewolves plural, you might be slightly disappointed, but it’s nice that a movie can be its own thing without trying to copy other films in the horror subgenre.

Either way, Ruben is 2 for 2 with his second attempt at comedy-horror, which ventures just far enough away from Scare Me to make me think that he’ll continue to be a great voice in the much-maligned and hard-to-muster horror subgenre.

Werewolves Within just debuted at the Tribeca Festival, and it will be released in theaters this Friday and then be On Demand and Digital starting July 2. I’ll also have an interview with Josh Ruben over at Below the Line a little later today, too, so check that out!

Not getting a theatrical release in the United States unfortunately is Jonathan Hensleigh’s THE ICE ROAD (Netflix), starring Liam Neeson as a truck driver in Winnipeg, whose special skill is driving that truck across the frozen lake up north. When a diamond mine collapses in the very north side of Canada, it’s up to him and a crew of other ice truckers to drive their big rigs across the frozen lake to save the men trapped in the mine.

I quite liked this movie that definitely marks a return of Hensleigh to some of those great action movies he wrote in the ‘90s, like Die Hard with a Vengeance, but this is also a significantly better action movie than some of the ones he’s directed, like the 2004 The Punisher. The sad fact is that I’ve been pretty disappointed with Neeson’s recent film choices, particularly in the last year when disappointments like The Honest Thief and The Marksman managed to get theatrical releases even during the pandemic. The Ice Road is a much better movie, maybe because Hensleigh wrote and directed it himself, but also he had much better source material in the docuseries, Ice Road Truckers, and he clearly did his research into these 18-wheelers on these dangerous trips across iced-over lake that could crack at any time. Hensleigh uses this idea well to tell a story where much of the movie takes place on that dangerous ice.

There are elements to the story that might not work quite as well, such as the decision to have Neeson’s brother Gurty (Marcus Thomas) be suffering from such horrible PTSD that it makes him almost a bigger hindrance than a help on the trip. On the other hand, the movie does have the always great Laurence Fishburne in a smaller role and the real breakout has to be Amber Midthunder, the bad-ass Indigenous Tantoo who proves that she can drive as well as the guys. I also found that Hensleigh’s use of the corporation as the ultimate antagonist in sending these truckers to their potential deaths more for the money than to actually save lives works well to add to what would have been a simple rescue mission.

The Ice Road is a pretty solid (ugh, bad pun) action-thriller that has some elements of other similar movies but then really throws the viewer for a loop with the amazing on-ice truck driving stunt work, that keeps one invested while really putting it ahead of some of Neeson’s other recent action fare.

You can read my interview with Hensleigh over at Below the Line.

Next up are two very different movies that played at the 20th Tribeca Festival over the past week

Heidi Ewing’s I CARRY YOU WITH ME (Sony Pictures Classics) finally gets a theatrical release after getting its Oscar qualifying run way back in December and premiering at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2020! Based on the true story of Mexican immigrant lovers Ivan and Gerardo, who travel from Mexico to New York City and are reunited after decades apart and many struggles to rekindle their romance.

This is an interesting movie for Ewing, best known for her award-winning docs like Jesus Camp, because it’s not an easy story to tell or movie to make, covering a span of decades, and using flashbacks to tell the individual stories of how these two men discovered their homosexuality while surrounded by a toxic culture who hates them for loving each other. We meet Iván as he’s cooking in a Mexican restaurant in New York before we flashback to Pablo, Mexico in 1994 when he’s younger (and played by Armando Espitia), married with a young son, but when he meets Gerardo (Christian Vázquez) at a gay club and the two click, he’s put in a place where he has to keep his sexuality hidden if he doesn’t want to lose his son. As the romance blossoms, Ivan realizes that he needs to go to America if he really wants his culinary skills (he even went to school) to be used, because in Pablo, he’s relegated to being a dishwasher.

Ivan decides to make the dangerous trek across the border with his best friend Sandra (Michelle Rodríguez -- not the one in F9) with the promise to return to Gerardo. Things don’t necessarily go as planned but decades later they’re reunited, and struggle to make it in New York City as restaraunteurs. As you watch their story unfold, you can fully understand why Ewing might want to tell this story, co-writing the script with Alan Page Arriaga, but there are still elements of documentary in this narrative beautifully shot by Cinematographer Juan Pablo Ramírez AMC.

Unfortunately, those elements of documentary are what really confused me, because there are moments in the present day when the real Ivan and Gerardo are playing themselves, but then there are times when the two main actors are made up to look older, and I couldn’t really figure out what was happening at times, maybe due to some of the more dream-like nature of the storytelling.

Even so, Ewing has created a terrific character piece and quite a warm and wondrous love story, even if it’s plagued by violence and discrimination due to their roots and their homosexuality. I couldn’t help but think that I might have liked Moonlight more if it wasn’t told in such a linear fashion, separated into three chapters. By using the flashbacks to keep the viewer fully focused on what’s happening, Ewing creates something more on par with Cuaron’s Y Tu Mama Tambien that feels just as authentic as if Ewing were a gay Mexican herself.

Probably the weakest part is the second act where we watch Ivan trying to get to America, because that’s been done in so many other movies, including Cary Joji Fukunaga’s earlier film, Sin Nombre, and that feels a little less unique or special compared to the rest of the duo’s story.

It’s a shame that I Carry You With Me wasn’t able to build any awards traction, partially due to Covid and the long gap between festival appearances. Either way, it proves that Ewing is a lot more than a “mere” documentary filmmaker, able to mix those skills with that of a sharp narrative filmmaker with a keen eye for storytelling. This is a particularly strong character piece and a beautiful love story based on two real men, unlike anything I’ve seen in recent memory.

Honestly, I’ve given up on figuring what Sony Classics is doing in terms of their theatrical releases. I guess this could be opening in New York and Los Angeles or in more cities. I have no idea, because no one tells me anything. But I also wanted to share the review by my friend J. Don Birnam that he wrote out of the New York Film Festival last year. He has reasons to be able to connect with this material much more than I can, which is probably why his review is so damn good: http://splashreport.com/nyff-film-review-i-carry-you-with-me-an-inspiring-story-of-triumph-by-rarely-depicted-peoples/

Not quite as good is John Lee’s horror-thriller FALSE POSITIVE (Hulu/A24), starring Ilana Glazer from Broad City, who also cowrote the screenplay with Lee. It’s a very different non-comedic role for Glazer in which she plays Lucy, a pregnant woman, who finds her pregnancy turned into a nightmare, as she puts herself in the hands of the nefarious ob/gyn Dr. John Hindle, played by the great Pierce Brosnan, who happened to be her husband’s (Justin Theroux) medical teacher.

Man, did I want to like this psychological thriller, because I think Glazer is just the best in Broad Street, and the fact that she co-wrote this and is trying to do something unexpected out of the ordinary just thrills me to the end. That being said, her character Lucy seems to be a rather standard powerful NYC woman with a good job where she’s better than the rest, who ends up going through a torturous experience as an expectant mother who isn’t able to trust her own doctor. Part of the conflict comes when Julie is told that she is having more than one baby, but she has to choose between twin boys or a single girl, because she’s told that she won’t be able to take all three of them to term.

It’s an okay premise dealing with the many worries that women must have while pregnant, and things get crazier and crazier as Julia begins seeing everything, and while Glazer isn’t bad while playing a straight-up no-humor dramatic role, it’s hard not to see her more as a Debra Messing type when she has her hair straightened out to look different.

The horror elements are decent whether it’s the body horror idea of having a number of dead baby fetuses inside you, which is pretty creepy, and Lee doesn’t do a bad job with the trippier parts of the movie, though I feel like it overuses and leans on the use of blood to step up the horror, and it doesn’t work that well. There are also aspects to the story that feel somewhat predictable only because there are only a few way things can go the way things are set-up.

It’s obvious that Glazer and Lee wanted to make social commentary on the male-dominated field of childbirth with some of the weirder aspects of the movie, like the Stepford Nurses that constantly surround Brosnan’s Dr. Hindle. Having them there smiling eerily always boosts Lucy’s suspicion that her husband might be cheating with one or both of them. Still, there are too many aspects of False Positive (including the fact it was produced by A24) that makes one think that this is another attempt at the kind of “elevated humor” that’s been done so much better by the likes of Ari Aster and Robert Eggers.

Ultimately, False Positive is okay, it certainly tries hard, it’s maybe not quite as good as I hoped or expected of what might have been a perfectly fine vehicle for Glazer. I certainly had high hopes for what she might do with a pregnancy thriller, that this movie just never quite delivers.

False Positive debuts on Hulu this Friday.

From Sweden comes the horror film THE EVIL NEXT DOOR (Magnet) from filmmakers Oskar Mellender and Tord Danielsson, which follows a new stepmom Shirin (Dilan Gwyn), who has moved into a duplex with her partner Fredrik and his young son, Lucas (Eddie Eriksson Dominguez), but they soon learn that strange things start happening that seem to be coming from the abandoned house next door.

I’m always open to see what’s coming from the Scandinavian countries, because there’s been a lot of particularly good genre over the years -- Let the Right One In, for instance -- but I got the impression right away that originality was not going to be in the cards for this one, which immediately has the small boy having an imaginary friend, who you know is either an evil spirit or one of the spirit’s previous victims. Sadly, that’s the case here, and without the originality of some of the original horror films it's emulating, The Evil Next Door just seems like an international copycat.

If you’re even a modicum fan of modern horror, you’re likely to have seen many better versions of this movie, which is just kind of bland overall, but constantly resorts to scenes of a woman walking through the house acting scared and the cheap scares that inevitably come. This one even uses the eerie “next day” chapters that have been used in so many other horror movies, including the Paranormal Activity movies.

Mellender and Danielsson certainly come off as capable filmmakers, and they could do far worse than the incredibly dramatic and emotional performance by Gwyn -- the movie does get slightly better as it goes along -- but the feeling that you’ve seen it all before and know what to expect completely detracts from appreciating any of the finer aspects. For instance, there’s some decent creature design work but even that sometimes goes for the expected in terms of the spirit’s look. The filmmaker’s skills are also evident from the use of music and sound design, which is crucial to a movie like this working in any fashion, but it’s hard to fully appreciate it when you feel you know where things are going.

The Evil Next Door just feels like a movie made by fans of the far superior “Conjuring” movies who managed to cop some of the tricks to scare the viewer, but without fully understanding why those movies work due to original characters and storytelling ideas. These are decent filmmakers, but I’d really like to see them do something more unique or original.

If you live in NYC and feel like going up to Harlem, Questlove’s documentary, Summer of Soul, is opening a week early, this Friday at the AMC Magic Johnson in Harlem, New York, and it’s also opening at El Capitan in Los Angeles. It will open in theaters elsewhere and on Hulu NEXT Friday, July 2, so I’ll write more about it in next week’s column.

Debuting on Apple TV+ Friday is Drew Zanthopoulos’ documentary FATHOM (Apple TV+), which follows scientists Dr. Ellen Garland and Dr. Michelle Fournet as they study the whale songs of the humpback whale and try to figure out ways to communicate with them and understand whale culture. Oddly, this is one of quite a few whale documentaries coming out over the next few weeks.

Another movie that I just don’t have time to review just now is Eytan Rockaway’s gangster thriller, LANSKY (Vertical), which stars Harvey Keitel, Sam Worthington, John Magaro, AnnaSophia Robb and Minka Kelly. Worthington is down-and-out writer David Stone, who gets a call from the legendary gangster Meyer Lansky (played by Keitel), who has been of the grid for decades but worth a fortune. Stone meets with Lansky as the FBI closes in on the Godfather of organized crime, and he’s told about Lansky’s time with Murder Inc. and the National Crime Syndicate.

Other movies out this week, include:

SILENT NIGHT (Samuel Goldwyn)

SISTERS ON TRACK (Netflix)

TOO LATE (Gravitas Ventures)

Next week is the 4th of July (on Sunday), and we’re getting FOREVER PURGE (Universal) and THE BOSS BABY 2: FAMILY BUSINESS (also Universal!!?!?)... I guess someone really wants to dominate the box office again, huh?

#The Weekend Warrior #F9 #Werewolves Within #False Positive #I Carry You With Me #The Ice Road #Movies #Reviews #Streaming

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zippdementia · 3 years

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Part 94 Alignment May Vary: A Clashing of Fates

The Mountain loomed in the background, the mighty Jarlberg. The armies of the New Alliance, made up of a conglomeration of races from elves to ice barbarians to the common people of the Sword Coast, marched through the ice and snow, chanting battle cries to keep their spirits high. They felt a mighty army, but the sight of the Mountain caused a shiver to run through their ranks.

The Mountain seemed a god fallen to earth. Around it a black cloud swirled, and as they drew closer they could all see it was no cloud, but winged demons. Two flanks of armed foes stood on either side of the mountain, ready to flank their army. The Yuan Ti were arranged on the left, and it seemed the entire race was present. Imoaza could not see the leader, but she knew that somewhere in that mass was her son, Xaxus, whose name meant “The Serpent Who Would Eat the World.”

To the right were the Undead, a huge number of them, all the Undead that had attacked Vraath Keep, bolstered to twice that number by all those who had died in that battle. Leading them was a giant of a woman, dead as the rest, but filled with more rage. She wore a bloodstained mask, and Milosh recognized her. It was Sierra, wearing the mask that seemed to transform her into a more powerful fighter. Karina would have known the mask: it long ago had been worn by Shando to make him El Ultimo Santo.

With a mighty cry, the two armies, both made up of former friends, former foes, and even family, began to advance.

This is a massive battle. On the one side is Abenthy’s army, made up of over 6000 undead, 2300 Yuan Ti, 1000 Demons, and nearly 1000 monsters deserted from the Vraath Keep forces. They have champions, as well. Sierra, wearing the mask of El Ultimo Santo, leads her fellow undead. A Balor has been summoned from the Abyss to assist Abenthy with bringing the realm of Chaos into the physical plane. It leads the demons, all of them flying units. Xaxus leads the Yuan Ti, and there are a couple of other special units yet hidden. Directing it all is the will of the Three Who Are One, having taken Abenthy’s form. He does not seem to be present, but his power moves this armies like pawns on a board.

The New Alliance is only half the size of Abenthy’s army. Comander Feluver leads it, and has brought a contingent of 2000 wood elves. Waterdeep, followers of Karina, and Baldur’s Gate refugees add another 3000 to this number. The tribe of Ice Barbarians has helped prepare the army for fighting in the snow, while adding 55 of their own number to the fight. And finally, 15 adult dragons, three each from the metallic colors, have come to add their prodigious might to the battle.

What the Alliance lacks in numbers, it makes up in legendary heroes. Immerstal the Red is here, lending his fire magic. Verrick comes with all the power of a death knight, bound to Milosh. Breath Giver has become the leader of Watergate and wields the power of the Blackstaff. Her brother, Orcaheart, is a mighty Ice Barbarian warrior who once (as he reminds him) beat Milosh in a one-on-one combat... with a little help from his sister. Hecate is poised like a knife at the heart of the Yuan Ti, hidden among their ranks and unsuspected in her treachery. Daymos and Jade are present, not fighting, but using their psychic energy to disrupt Abenthy’s control over his army. And of course the PCs themselves: Imoaza the Yuan Ti Weave Seer and Warlock; Milosh the Half Orc Mercenary from another world, choosen by Primus himself to be a champion of order; and Carrick, human Paladin of Primus, infused with the knowledge and wisdom of the Surveyor.

The idea for this combat was inspired by Tyranny of Dragons. I never was satisfied with how the final battle in that campaign is described. The DM is just sort of left to “figure it out” and all the promise that PC actions were going to matter and have a mechanical impact are left behind. It’s a little better written in the rerelease of the campaign, but the major issue is still not resolved: no good mechanics are given to help simulate a battle of the proportions described.

So to play out this combat, I wanted to fix that problem. I turned to DMs Guild and read a number of mass combat rules, including old 1st Edition D&D rules written by Gary Gygax himself. Most did not meet muster. They were either too complex or clunky, or too nebulous.

But then I found the aptly named “Simple Mass Combat Rules” by Christopher Heatherington. As of this writing, Chris has only done one other release on DM’s Guild, but I know he’s active because he responded to my praise for his Mass Combat Rules. I want to repeat that praise here, and encourage anyone who ever wants to run a mighty army vs army battle in D&D to use these rules. They are good enough I think Wizards of the Coast should officially adopt them.

I won’t go into the details of the rules here, except to say that basically every creature in an army adds to its value, and those values are compared to figure out how much “life” each army has. The higher value army always has 20 life, and the lesser value army has life equal to a percentage of that, based on their army’s power (in this case, 15 for the New Alliance). Each round essentially comes down to two rolls. One is a commander’s roll, to compare how well each army fights. Another is a morale roll, to see if either army breaks its spirit. Affecting these rolls with pluses and minuses are the actions of the PCs, who get to direct the armies and take actions themselves in combat. The focus stays very macro, so you aren’t usually running individual combats (though you can, if you feel it is a key moment).

Below, I’ll take you through the major steps of our battle, and describe how it all plays out.

The First Clash

The Yuan Ti army stays where it is, but the Undead march forward to meet the New Alliance. The PCs work to come up with a plan of attack with Breath Giver and Comander Feluver. They decide to send the Waterdhavians charging against the Yuan Ti, while the Elves and the rest of the Alliance will try to destroy the Undead. Verrick and Orcaheart are assigned the task of taking down Sierra, which they grimly (Verrick) and excitedly (Orcaheart) accept. Immerstal and Milosh lead the charge against the rest of the undead, keeping the troops in line and their morale high. Carrick hangs back with Breathgiver, assisting as medics on the field.

The first clash against the undead El Ultimo Santo has all the intensity of a raging inferno. A circle in the middle of the armies is formed, as even the fearless undead pull away from the raw destructive power of the battle. El Santo is a beast of pure reckless force, crater the icy ground with each blow of her maul like fists. Verrick wields all the unholy might of a Death Knight, and brings it against Santo, sending waves of necrotic energy spiraling around them, refreezing the slush that their boots make of the arena. Faced with such power, it is impressive that Orcaheart shows no fear and holds his own ground, picking the perfect moments to move in and strike against El Ultimo, while she is distracted by Verrick’s furious blows. After a half hour of fighting, the three are still locked in deadly combat.

Meanwhile, the Waterdhavians advance upon the Yuan Ti, but this seems to have been predicted by the clever snake people. They send hails of arrows and blasts of powerful magic raining down on the hapless army. Still, the Waterdhavians charge, seemingly into a suicide run.

However, there is a method to this. The distraction caused by their rush has allowed one very special person to leave the main army and travel undetected across the snow at high speed, using her mastery of the weave to disguise her presence. Invisible, Imoaza steals across the ice, until she is behind the Yuan Ti army. Then, dropping her spell, she assumes the appearance of a non-descript Yuan Ti warrior and blends in with the mighty army, seeking her son, and vengeance.

Mortal Combat

With battle broken upon the two armies, Abenthy seizes the advantage early on. The Waterdhavians are getting crushed under the ranged might of the Yuant ti and their magic. Imoaza has merged with the Yuan Ti army, but pressing through to find Xaxus is like trying to dig through solid rock with your fingernails. The Yuan Ti stand tightly packed and are observant of anything breaking the order. Imoaza has to be careful, but she also needs to be quick: the Waterdhavians are suffering more death every second. Each moment she delays is a moment of failure.

While Imoaza seeks to complete her secret mission, Abenthy moves two assets into position on the field. The demons break off from their perches on the mountaintop and fly towards the main Alliance army, seeking to rain fire and death upon it. They are met mid air by the Allied Dragons, who tear through the demons with mighty blasts of their breath weapons and flashes of claw and tooth. A group of the demons breaks away and lands at the back of the Alliance, led by the leader of the demons, a mighty Balor known only as The Forgotten Death. Milosh and Carrick and Breathgiver come together to lead the rear defense, but the undead are closing in from the front. Immerstal adds his mighty magic to the fray as well.

While all this is going on, Abenthy send his second asset into the field on a secret mission of its own. It is a mighty Dracolich, and it soars silently towards the Alliance headquarters, where it hopes to find the source of the psychic power holding him back: Daymos and Jade. It will easily eliminate the two distracted psychics.

But before it can reach its goal, a mighty roar of sadness splits the sky as the Bronze Dragon Argent, the PC’s companion and mount since the adventure on the Moving Ice, spots the Dracolich and recognizes its essence. It is his mother, the Bronze Dragon Sauros, who so long ago promised aid to Karina and was eventually slain by the Red Hand. Argent, wailing with sorrow, turns from the battle against the demons and flies at his mother, determined to end her suffering. The two dragons clash mid air and begin a deadly, sorrowful dance.

In the midst of these developments, Verrick and Orcaheart finally deliver the killing blow to El Ultimate Santo, though Orcaheart takes a mighty blow, crushing his lower spine, to leave the great beast open. Verrick kills Santo and as he falls, his mask splits in two and Sierra, her undead body broken, is released from his hold over her soul. Santo makes one last statement: “Finally, El Ultimo Santo may go to his rest.” Then the mask falls into dust and soon is lost amidst the snow. Both Sierra and the long suffering soul of El Santo find their rest.

Desperate Measures

With El Ultimo slain, Carrick and Milosh realize they have to press their advantage. However, the undead have no fear. The death of their greatest warrior does nothing except leave them free to attack the ailing Verrick and the downed Orcaheart. MIlosh pulls the two out of the conflict and gets them to safety, fighting off hordes of the undead to break through to the Alliance camp.

“Brother!” Breathgiver ran out of a large pavilion as the soldiers carried the limp form of Orcaheart into the camp. She rushed to his side and took his huge hand in her tiny one.

“Sister,” Orcaheart said, his voice thick with pain. “I have fought the battle of my lifetime and I fear it is to be my last. Do not cry, you need to be a leader now. You are the Blackstaff.”

“I am also still your sister,” she said, angrily wiping the tears from her face. “And it is not your time. There is still work to be done.”

Breathgiver summoned her powers and laid her hands upon Orcaheart. He gasped as the pain was torn from him, as wounds closed and bones mended. He moved his legs slightly. Breathgiver bent and kissed him on the forehead.

“Your fighting days are over,” she said. “That much is true. You will walk, but stiffly, and will never be able to match another in combat as you once did. But there is more to life than fighting, brother. When this battle is over, peace will reign, and I will need your strength by my side to help me rule.”

Orcaheart looked at Milosh, who had dragged him from the fight. “Go,” he said. “You are the only one to have ever defeated Orcaheart in a fight. Now your friend needs your sword arm at his side. Alas, my sister speaks wisdom. I can do no more for you in this battle.”

While this is happening, Carrick is still behind in the mass of swelling undead and Milosh plunges back into the fray to try to reach him, Verrick following him as his bound companion. The three end up separated, fending off wave after wave of the undead, slowly losing their own fighters to the horde. Finally they all end up reunited, back to back, each covered in the blood of the slain.

“They are growing in numbers!” Carrick calls out.

“Our own allies are swelling their ranks,” Milosh answers.

But that isn’t all of it. Carrick reaches out with his divine granted senses and realizes that the army is being restocked continuously by a host of corpse flowers, the disgusting plant like undead that destroyed the Witchwood. He tells Milosh of his discovery, and the two realize that they must take what remains of their army and do everything they can to reach and destroy the Corpse Flowers.

“I will make an opening for you,” Verrick says, and plunges into the middle of the horde.

Milosh looks up and sees dragons falling from the sky, their wings burned to a crisp. The demons screech insanely.

“We are out of time,” Milosh says.

While all this is going on, finally Imoaza finds what she is looking for. Xaxus sits upon a palanquin set astride a mighty Tyranasaur-like creature, long bodied and long tailed, with a face mostly made up of teeth. At his side stands Hecate, seeming completely subservient.

Imoaza thinks fast. “A message from the front,” she cried out, getting Xaxus’ notice. “The One who is Three sends new orders.” Xaxus ushers Imoaza, not recognizing her in her disguise, up onto his platform to give him the news directly. Hecate’s eyes widen, and Imoaza realizes that she, somehow, has realized who she is.

“What is the message?” Xaxus asks.

Imoaza leans close. "Thank you for bringing me my army."

For a moment, she drops the disguise. Xaxus’ face pales as he recognizes his long lost mother. But before he can react, Hecate blasts him in the back with her gun arm and Imoaza summons Black Razor Alpha to her, and stabs deep into Xaxus’ heart.

Around them the Yuan Ti go silent, staring up at the sacreligious murder of their mortal deity, the Serpent Who Will Swallow the World.

“What now?” Hecate asks.

“Now we see if the Yuan Ti believed your prophecy about the dragons.”

When All Else Fails

Imoaza stood in front of the full might of the Yuan Ti army. They stared at her and she felt suddenly that she teetered on the edge of a precipice, not a physical chasm, but an edge of time. On one edge, she saw the Yuan Ti throwing themselves like rabid animals against the forces of the Alliance, destroying many of the citizens of Waterdeep, so many dead that the snow turned red with the blood of humans, dwarves, and elves. The Yuan Ti were killed to the last one, the race ended in their rush to meet Dendar the Night Serpant.

That was one path. The Yuan Ti would be forever remembered by history as a powerful race, one which had fought to the bitter end, one which had never been conquered.

One that never thrived again.

The other path showed the Yuan Ti as a peaceful race, peaceful and simple. They were not rulers. They did not conquer or seek power. History forgot them. But they survived. They worshipped the path of the metallic dragons, sought balance in life, and sustainability in living it. They surrendered their armaments and faded into the background of civilization.

And they survived.

Imoaza looked out over the crowd of Yuan Ti watching her and for a moment doubted herself, wondering how she could possibly ever convince the Yuan Ti to be a peaceful people. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned her head to see Hecate giving her a slight nod of support. She remembered her daughter as she had been, the most bloodthirsty Yuan Ti of all, chasing her across the very planes of existence. If she had changed, had found peace, then so could her race.

Imoaza turned back to the crowds, raised her hands and magnified her voice, and began to speak.

Many things happen on the battlefield.

Argent and his undead mother, Sauros, let out a mighty roar as their battle ends, the two dragons peeling away from each other, trailing blood in the sky, as they fall behind the mountain and are lost to sight. We make a roll for Argent, a die roll to see if he survives.... which I’ll reveal at the end of the post.

And the Balor, the Forgotten Death, lands in the midst of the Alliance army, seemingly invincible, and begins carving a path to its leaders, Breathgiver and Feluver. Immerstal pulls on his last resources to hold the Legendary Demon General at bay. Do they survive? It will come down to a roll....

Verrick rushes into the the center of the undead army, where he unleashes his final attack. It is a powerful blast of fire that tears out of him, ripping out of every pore of his body and blasting the undead around him into smithereens. He thinks of Karina as he unleashes his power. We make a die roll for him, too...

Regardless, MIlosh and Carrick know there is only one chance they will get to have this advantage, and they lead a desperate charge through the hole Verrick has made. But already Abenthy is reacting, using all his willpower to draw the undead into an impenetrable line in front of the corpse flowers, knowing that while they exist, he cannot lose this battle. Milosh looks to Carrick as they charge and thinks of sacrifices.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and unleashes a divine blast, a power given to him by the Inevitable, the power that is prophecied to be able to strike down Primus himself. It rushes out of him, and many of their own soldiers die in the blast as it expands out to 60 feet. It tears through the final stand of the Undead. It washes over Carrick, bringing him to his knees... but Carrick stands again, and together with Milosh, they rush the Corpse Flowers, and begin cutting them down.

This is the turning point in the battle. With the Corpse Flowers cut down, the Yuan Ti army in confusion, and the demons outnumbered by the dragons and the remaining alliance, it seems that the heroes have won through!

But Abenthy has only been stalling for time.

From Above

A roar froze everyone in the midst of battle, causing even the Balor to pause mid strike, and turn towards the mountain. Tentacles were erupting all over the mountainside, ripping through space. And emerging...

... no, thought Carrick, covered in the stench-ridden blood of the corpse flowers. No, we have come too far to fail now.

But failed they had, for the battle had only all been a delay, a tactic designed to weaken them in time to summon forth the Tarrasque.

And not just the Tarrasque. Even as the great beast emerged from the portal being ripped in the side of the Jarlberg, the clouded skies split open and a rumble rolled across the battlefield.

Carrick knew what was coming. Abenthy himself was entering the battlefield. Given the power of a god, he was coming to smite those who had been foolish enough to defy him. Carrick fell to his knees, feeling hopelessness wash over him, as the god’s voice split through the sky.

But it was not Abenthy’s voice. It was a battlecry:

“FOR ALDRIC, AND THE GREEN COMPANY!”

Carrick raised his eyes once more skyward, in time to see, not a god coming to smite them, but ships. Dozens of ships, breaking through the atmosphere. And, at their head, one mighty vessel which looked remarkably familiar. The surveyor’s ship, which had taken them across the planets and into the very Abyss itself. It had once been unnamed, but now bright gold letters crossed its hull, spelling out a name Aldric would have been proud of: The Anope.

(DMs note: for those who have forgotten, which is probably everyone except my players, Anope was Aldric’s horse back when he first joined the party)

Then a very familiar voice came cascading over the battlefield:

“Seem to be in a tight spot, gentlemen!” came the cry of Roger Krisp, “What you need is a little help and maybe some of my patented cereal! Captain Krispies! Sure to put a pep in your step! And it comes with prizes. And today, that prize is anti-armor bombardment! Cover your butts!”

And as he spoke, the ships opened fire, launching enough missiles, energy blasts, lasers, and bombs to destroy the rest of Abenthy’s army and even finally take down the Tarrasque.

Who lives? Who dies? I said I’d say at the end of the post, but I maybe kinda sorta lied. I’ll share next time, though, when I’ll also share our final battle against Abenthy, which takes place in a very strange and unique battlefield, and we reach the long awaited conclusion to our campaign.

Thank you so so much for reading this far. We’ll see you at the finish line.

#Mass Combat #D&D #Dungeons & Dragons 5e #Alignment May Vary #AMV #Tarasque #Abenthy

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biglittlesshop · 3 years

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Great to have time to visit anton’s retrospective at bucerius kunst forum hamburg until january see you tomorrow night larr the Great Dane 5 Things You Should Know About This Woman Dog Mom She Loves Dogs More Than Human Tee Shirts no edge adam u2 u2eitour antoncorbijn. Diane kendal for nars cosmetics thakoon really wanted girls to look healthy and very american this beauty look is inspired by the 80’s super models cindy claudia linda and christie found in peter lindbergh’s photography skin is gorgeous makeup is fresh and beautifully groomed face concealer sheer glow foundation cheeks deep throat blush eyes last frontier velvet eyeliner smudge across eyes and lower lashline goddess velvet shadow stick audacious mascara brows matte eyeshadow shades blondie bali bengali coconut grove brow gel lips sex machine velvet matte lip pencil. Yesterday was a busy day of meetings and airplane travel for peter and connor but last night peter took some time to share his thoughts on the passing of the great christopher lee christopher lee was the tallest actor I ever knew he was also by far the most literate when we first met in a los angeles studio where he was recording his lines as king haggard in the last unicorn he had just recorded haggard’s speech about his first sight of unicorns and I mentioned that it was probably my favorite speech in the book he immediately wanted to know well did I do it properly we can always redo it right here of course he’d handled the lines perfectly but writers and writers’ opinions about their work mattered intensely to christopher that same afternoon we discovered that between the two of us we we could call to mind just about all the lines of g k chesterton’s poem the rolling english road we also discovered a mutual need to hit the men’s room and my son dan in his mid teens at the time still has a very clear memory of christopher simultaneously peeing while declaiming in that voice which no one could ever keep from imitating after fifteen minutes with him before the roman came to rye or out to severn strode the rolling english drunkard made the rolling english road a reeling road a rolling road that rambled round the shire and after him the parson ran the sexton and the squire I leave it to the reader to imagine that voice in the tiled acoustics of a hollywood bathroom we met a second time in munich where the last unicorn was being dubbed into german most of my memories of that time and of chris lee have to do with books and authors he had known both j r r tolkien and a writer who mattered more to me t h white we had a long ongoing argument in munich about a chapter of the sword in the stone that appears in the english edition of the book but not in the american one he turned out to be right he usually was he never failed to mention the last unicorn as one of his very favorite books and as one of the movies he was most proud of having made indeed he left my whopperjawed as mark twain would have put it when we were being interviewed together on austrian television and he announced oh yes I simply couldn’t resist a chance to play king haggard one more time even in another language after all and he looked straight into the camera it’s the closest they’ll ever let me get to playing king lear the camera swung toward me to catch my stunned reaction and chris looked across the studio at me and winked but my most vivid memory chilling as it remains to this day has to do with the day that I and michael chase walker associate producer of the last unicorn and the one who really got the film made in the first place somehow found our way out to dachau I can’t now recall how we managed it considering that neither one of us spoke german and that you had to take both a subway and a bus to get there from the hotel where the crew were staying but we got there somehow and spent a good half of the day roaming with other tourists around a legendary concentration camp peering blindly into the huge crematoriums but staring with equal horror and fascination at the endless rows of filing cabinets containing every record of every human being who was ever imprisoned starved gassed or simply worked to death in this place michael and I grew quieter and quieter that afternoon until by the time we started back to munich we weren’t speaking at all I think we both felt that we might say anything in words again the first person we met in the hotel lobby was christopher he took one look at us and announced you’ve been to dachau we nodded without answering chris strode toward us looked all the way down from his six foot five inch altitude lowered his voice and inquired still smells doesn’t it with the end of world war ii christopher as a member of the special forces and whose five or six languages included fluent german had been assigned to hunt down and interrogate nazi war crminals and had been present at the liberation of dachau and yes the smell of death had undoubtedly faded somewhat since 1945 but it was still as real as michael and me wandering dazedly between the ovens and the filing system we just didn’t know what it was but christopher did and i’d know it again I never saw him again after munich though we spoke on the telephone a few times on the last occasion when I had called to wish him a happy 90th birthday I remember him assuring me that if by the time you come to make your live action version of your movie I have passed on do not let it concern you I have risen from the dead several times I know how it’s done he worked almost to the last as the real artists of every kind do they work to be working because that’s what they do and they die when they stop I always regarded him as the last of the great 19th century actors that bravura larger than life style went with him no modern rada trained performer would ever attempt it today nor should they it would inevitably come out parody however earnestly meant yet there was always more to christopher lee as an actor than dracula or the mummy or saruman or sherlock holmes for that matter though he was very proud of having played not only both holmes and watson but sherlock’s brother mycroft as well lord summerisle of the original the wicker man probably his favorite of his own movies is most likely closer to chris’s dark benignity than any other role he ever inhabited I believe this because lord summerisle sings a surprising amount in that movie and chris passionately loved singing if there is any such thing as an afterlife or reincarnation I truly hope no believe that christopher lee will return as a wagnerian opera singer if he hadn’t been considered too old in his 30s to be accepted for formal vocal training he might have been in his own eyes at least a happier more fulfilled man but we would have been deeply poorer for it and never have known See Other related 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#Great #Dane #5 #Things #You #Should #Know #About #This #Woman

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dandylion240 · 4 years

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✧ Founders CAS Challenge by @volcano-pasta ✧

Tagged by @simmeronnie Thank you so much. I decided to use this as an excuse to create my founders of my ts3 legacies in ts4.

Rules: Post all of your founders together to compare and contrast them! Share some details to see how similar or different they are. This can be done in CAS, or you can jump in game, or you can share old screenshots!

1) The Van Winkle Legacy - Founder Peter Van Winkle

Just the average absentminded scientist.

He is immortal due to being tricked by Emit Relevart.

He was married twice.

First wife Valari - their marriage ended in divorce

They had 4 children together

Second wife Jean - she died of old age

They had 4 children together

Valari was killed in a fire she set herself to kill Peter in after luring him into her trap by kidnapping his son.

Peter is now moving on from having lost Jean and is dating River. When Gen 6 starts we’ll see if she becomes wife number 3

Gen 6 currently on hiatus but I am working on it

More under the cut. It got really long, Plus evidently I write a lot.

2) Not So Ordinary Life - Founder William Bennett and his wife Jessica

This legacy started because William kept getting abducted by aliens. I asked myself one little question...what if the aliens weren’t as friendly as the game made them out to be? What if they had an agenda all their own? Thus the Bennett saga began.

Why Bennett? Because I gave him the same last name of my favorite character Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice

William was abducted 4 or 5 times. I don’t honestly remember. It did result in two pregnancies.

The alien experiments done on him unfortunately had lasting side effects on his wife. She became prone to fits of anger, jealousy, uncontrollable sexual urges that resulted in multiple children she was unable to take care nor any desire to do so. Also resulted in an affair and a child from that relationship as well. Until she completely lost it and tried to kill her entire family.

William stuck by her because he felt guilty because of what the aliens had done to him.

He also lost his oldest child Sydney in a tragic house fire. She later came back to life through a science experiment but that’s another story.

Gen 6 currently on hiatus but being worked on

3) Not So Peaceful Life (a side legacy of NSOL) - Evelyn Bennett and her husband Shon Olivia

Evelyn is William’s alien daughter.

She married her older sisters boyfriend after meeting him again once she went away to University.

They were reluctant to move their relationship from friends to something more.

Shon’s estranged father hated her and on more than one occasion tried to kill her. He had been abducted by aliens that drove him to drinking.

Shon and Evelyn also took in his children from a previous relationship before he was sent to live with his Aunt. He didn’t even know about them until a case he was working on in Bridgeport let him to his ex girlfriends door.

Shon had two kids with Evelyn and two with his ex.

4th gen is on hiatus.

4) Not So Quiet Life (a side legacy of NSOL) Casey Bennett and his wife Lynn

Casey is the 3rd child of William and Jessica

Sydney sacrificed herself to save him in the fire that took her life.

Casey and his younger brother Gene never really got along until years later when Casey had his own breakdown and developed a drinking problem. Gene helped him through it.

Casey got a girl pregnant while he was at University and they lived together for the sake of their son Eddie.

He came home from work one day to find her gone and his son alone crying in his crib.

Through the help of is older brother Robert he was able to find a suitable nanny for his son.

He later married his son’s nanny.

Casey had two kids with Lynn besides Eddie.

Glitter is the continuation of his legacy with Hannah, Benjamin and Christopher Bennett.

5) Not So Reckless Life (a side legacy of NSOL) Gene Bennett and his wife Aimee.

Gene had emotional problems that developed after the death of this older sister Sydney. He felt responsible for the fire because he took out the batteries from the smoke alarm to operate a toy.

He got into drugs and drinking as a teenager but nothing really helped with the guilt he felt.

He became suicidal.

He became a target of his mother’s to vent her anger and unreasonable hatred on not helping with his own emotional problems.

Things started to turn around when he met his girlfriend (can’t remember her name) They lived together until he decided to sign up Sim Star Idol

Everyone was against him joining the show afraid that the pressure would be too much for him and he’d start drinking again.

If it weren’t for his brother Robert’s firm belief in him that he could do it that he did the show.

He didn’t win but he did meet the love of his life Aimee Vera.

Aimee’s parents were less than thrilled with her choice in men and did everything they could to break them up.

Aimee gave into their demands when Gene found out he was the father of twins from his previous relationship and she had died in child birth leaving him twin girls to raise.

He had a total of 7 kids.

Knights of Hope is the current gen and will continue once Glitter concludes. Currently on Hiatus

6) Bring Me Back To Live (a side legacy of NSOL) Sydney Bennett and her husband Tain Sugihara.

Sydney died in a tragic house fire as a teenager.

She was brought back to life by a highly experimental procedure

The scientists wanted to generate good will and funding for their experiment so they insisted she marry and they hosted a BC for her.

Tain Sugihara was the lucky winner

The experiment that brought her back to life led to her death five years later.

She had triplets but it was her son Jackson who developed the genetic degradation that would eventually lead to his early death.

The scientists wanted to continue the experiments in the hopes of perfecting or even duplicating their one and only successful resurrection.

Made to almost the end of gen 5 - indefinite hiatus

7) My lil Reagan’s Robin Fairchild and Dominick Reagan started it all.

I will one day post their story.

It is written but I want to fit it in so that it makes sense with where I’m at with my Reagan stories.

These two would be the grandparents or Jonah, Jayden, Raelyn and Sage.

Sage’s purple hair comes from Dominick

Dominick is a ghost now living with his elderly husband in their youngest son’s home.

My TS4 game play consists of mostly their descendants

8) Island Living Game play - Octavia Griggs and Wilson McCabe

I’ll probably just play them until the kids age up.

You may see their kids married to other sims later on

It was started to test out Island Living

9) 4x4 Challenge and game play - Reo Carmichael and Kasen Rocca

Reo is a well known actor

Kasen is an up and coming artist

The challenge was to start off with a 4x4 house and every 10,000 dollars they make they can add on another 4x4 room. They have to spend all but 500 dollars in the renovation.

Once the upstairs is complete and their kids are aged this challenge will end.

I have plans for their only son He will have his own challenge to accomplish

Hmm that’s a lot but the majority of my TS3 stories are on hiatus but will be coming back. I just want to have stuff written in advance. I do see I get obsessed with families mainly my Bennett’s and Reagan’s. I love my Van Winkle’s too but I tried to keep all the stories in together since they tell the same overall story.

Sorry I got a little long winded but I do love to talk about my stories and this helped me realize what I lived about them. Also why I struggle to let any of them even BMBTL.

Tagging: @fataleromeo @cillaben @izayoichan @ohsimtastic @amuhav @wannabecatwriter @justasimthing @cawthorntales and anyone else who wants to do this. Feel free to ignore if you want.

#founders cas challenge

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kzesl · 5 years

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Let’s talk about tv series The Order. Or rather, let me talk about it. I want to talk about it. I have feelings I need to express.

Under the cut, because of spoilers. Long post is long.

Jack Morton is not someone I initially liked. But he’s growing on me. Bit by bit. Like Lilith. I want to see who he will become without his memories, and then when he remembers, I want to see who he is when he does not have to think about avenging his mother’s death. His grandfather raised him a certain way and it shows. His heart is a war drum. I want to see him find himself. I want to see him be a student. Even if it is for just one episode. Is there going to be a time jump when season 2 starts? I hope so. Show me the horror of memory tampering.

The finale was heartbreaking and I was so mad. It makes sense, of course. If I was a member of a secret society with dubious morals, I too would probably do what is in my power to neutralize my natural enemies. From the perspective of the Order, keeping the Knights of Saint Christopher alive was probably done as a repayment for helping them get rid of their too far gone leader. The knights should have never trusted the order members. That being said, Alyssa can go to hell. Alyssa had divided loyalties. Doing what she did was a treacherous act, and I sincerely hope that she never gets a redemption arc. I know that is unlikely, though.

She made her choice, and now I want to see her live with it. Have her become the most dangerous enemy, have her morals slowly crumble, but don’t make her try to take it back. Make her suffer for her choice. Make her see Jack, without her, happy. Give me awkward moments when she can’t help but seek him out even though he doesn’t remember her. Make her wonder about could have beens. Make her learn exhilarating magic and make her choose it over Jack again and again and again. Make her wonder if she could have had both. Hell, give me a time travel episode where she goes back to that moment and doesn’t change a thing. Make it a choice she sticks with.

Make her sink into magic until she breathes it instead of air. I’m not saying make her evil. I’m saying make her try to be good. Try hard. And then make everything conspire against her and make her fail. Make the people she chose to surround herself with change her for the worse. Make her not realize it for a long time. And then give me that moment when she does. Make it hurt. Make it not change a damn thing about which side she stands on. Give me a villain origin story. Road to Hell and all that. I might actually end up liking her character if she turns into one of the main bad guys.

Of course, naming anyone a bad guy is tricky in this show. Or rather, naming anyone a good guy is tricky. Everyone has astounding amounts of disregard for human (or otherwise) life.

I prefer murderous werewolves to murderous magic practitioners. The werewolves exist to eliminate evil magic and the order uses magic for bad and/or good purposes. They are all grey, but the shades matter.

I want to see more of the pack. They are disasters. Every single one of them. Alcoholics, or on the way to becoming alcoholics. Murderers. Hunters, and occasionally prey, but never ever harmless (not even memory blanked, as they are now. Their claws are still sharp and they still crave blood). They may have lost their memories, but we don’t actually know how much they have lost (how much was taken from them).

No matter what, they are still werewolves. They will still have the urge to transform, sill hear the ringing when magic is used. There are many possible ways this could go, depending on how much they were made to forget. If they have forgotten everything, including being werewolves, I want them to find each other. Pack pack pack. Give me pack. Give me confused werewolves who feel certain things about certain people they don’t ever remember meeting. Give me hides remembering, even if the humans don’t. (They might still wake up naked in a forest, with a human heart in their bellies.) Give me Hamish mixing drinks and realizing he made four glasses instead of one. Give me Randall, walking alone, and turning to talk to someone who is definitely not walking by his side. Give me Lilith, getting a bottle to the back of her head because she was in a bar fight and no one was watching her six (there should be someone watching her six).

Give me Maddox, who knew more of his father’s business than anyone suspected, and who somehow finds out that he has an older brother (and no one else in the entire world). Maybe he is the one to restore his brother’s memory. Maybe he has always wanted a sibling. Maybe he will not let anyone stop him from getting what he wants. Maybe, both of Edward’s sons take after him when it comes to achieving their goals.

Give me more about Edward. Edward who loved his son, and who was so changed by the book that he was willing to sacrifice him. Because the Edward that had such a non reaction to finding out that he has another son is not the real Edward. And I’m not saying that the Edward who is not under the influence of an immensely powerful magical artifact would have loved his firstborn, but I think he would have had a bigger reaction. Edward was not a good man, before or after being influenced by the artifact, but even bad men can be affected by such knowledge (even bad men can love). Edward loved his younger son. Edward never got the chance to love his eldest. Maybe he never would have loved him.

Or or or, imagine an AU where Jack grew up with his father. Imagine him becoming a Knight anyway. Imagine the end staying the same, with Edward dying by his son’s (indirect) hand (Dad, dad, dad, you went too far). Jack likes being alive, thank you very much.

I’m going to stop here, because while I have other things I could talk about, I also have to go to work tomorrow and I’m tired.

#the order #the order netflix #headcanons meta fic musings

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matty-de-clermont · 4 years

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End of an Era...

Far from a happily-ever-after, the emergence of a new threat brings the next generation of the De Clermont family into a fight for the survival of all creatures and their family when it strikes at the very heart of the ancient clan.

WARNING: Major Character Death

SPOILERS: Book of Life and Time’s Convert

———

“Rebecca, go to the library!” Diana demanded, failing to keep the faint trembling from her voice.

“Eric, where is he?’ The eighteen-year-old bright-born asked instead, her blue eyes searching out the answer from her cousin.

Gallowglass said nothing and instead looked to his aunt for guidance.

“Do as your mother says!” Matthew demanded, his tone much sharper than usual.

“Take Andrew upstairs,” Diana lifted the infant from his cot and placed him in his sister’s arms, “tell Philip and Jack to stay there and the three of you mind Andrew, Sarah and Christopher until we call for you.”

Rebecca had ample experience in knowing when to argue with her parents and when not to, this situation was the latter, even if she wanted an answer to her question.

Instead, she took her brother upstairs.

Philip looked up from his chess game with Jack when they both entered the library, the worry etched on his face also.

His griffin Apollo sat curled near the fire, his large body curled around Christopher’s smaller Hippogriff, Hermes.

“Gallowglass has come back, alone?” Phillip asked her.

“Yes, but I don’t know what happened, I was banished up here,” she explained, placing the infant in her arms into a playpen, his other two siblings already asleep.

“Can’t you, y’know?” Jack asked Philip.

“You think I can weave an eavesdropping spell without Mom sensing it?” He asked, incredulous.

Rebecca shook her head, knowing he was right, her eyes cast out over the grand canal, watching the lights of the boats go to and fro.

Venice had become their home, sanctuary and refuge after Hubbard, her youngest brother’s namesake, was killed whilst helping them escape London.

Marcus and the depleted Knights of Lazarus took up residence in the cleared out Isolla Della Stella after the creatures of Venice rose to the aid of the Bishop-Clairmont’s and expelled the non-friendly congregation members.

There was no Congregation, only angry humans demanding justice for the millennia they had been used as pawns in the games of creatures. The world wars, atrocities engineered and guided, much of the time by Philippe De Clermont himself.

“Has anyone told Miyako?” Rebecca asked.

“I’m sure Dad has.” Jack assured.

“I swear, if they-“ Rebecca stopped, half fury and half fear.

“Becca, remember who you’re talking about. Uncle Baldwin’s not someone we need to worry about.” Philip tried to comfort her.

“They have him, Pip, that fucking psycho bitch and her sycophants have him locked in their dungeon doing god who knows what to him.”

“I know, and he’ll be fine.” Philip pulled her into a hug that made her feel momentarily better.

“Mum’s here.” Jack announced before the door opened.

Diana entered, the sound of yelling and broken pottery clearly audible from downstairs before she closed over the door.

“Where is Uncle Baldwin?” Rebecca demanded.

Diana shook her head and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry my darling,” she caught her daughter before she fell, one arm around her shoulder as she used her free hand to beckon the boys to join also.

Baldwin had been given a traitors death, beheaded and burned.

As was the case with his elder brother Hugh, there was nothing left to bury. No loving family members had been permitted to provide the Roman custom of ‘the last goodbye’, a kiss to free his soul to travel to Elysium.

Every church in Venice rang their bells on the hour for twelve hours for the twelve days of mourning in protest at the loss of one of their guardians.

Rebecca bit down on her rage for those twelve days, whilst her family and their friends, Baldwin’s brothers in the Knights, her cousins - including Baldwin’s own daughter Miyako - all tried to imagine a world without him in it.

On the thirteenth day, the business of managing the family took centre stage.

Gallowglass fought like a bear to shake off the shackles of De Clermont family leadership both Matthew and Ysabeau placed upon his shoulders.

Since all of Philippe’s son’s were dead, the responsibility passed to the eldest surviving heir of the eldest deceased son, much to Verin’s disapproval. Gallowglass would have happily handed to her if he could.

He could not, and instead bent to the demands of his family expectations, starting with his addressing the remaining Knights, including his cousins.

“We have mourned for twelve days, despite the fact that Baldwin himself would have found that excessive,” Gallowglass broke the tension with the light joke, “now we must do as he would have ordered us to, look to the future and survival of our family. He died-“

“He was murdered,” Miyako interrupted from the doorway, “he did not die in battle, Eric!”

“Miyako,” Matthew addressed his niece, “I promise he will be avenged.”

“No need, I’ll kill her myself!”

“I appreciate your grief but you will not.”

“I do not answer to you Matthew!”

“No, you answer to me,” Gallowglass boomed, “Matthew is right, I will not lose you too and you will no longer refer to me by that name, we are not of equal rank. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Sieur. Might I be excused?”

“You may.” Gallowglass gave his permission and she turned, momentarily catching Rebecca’s eye as she did so.

What followed was tedious reports from those gathered regarding everything except a plan to horribly murder each and every creature that had a hand in Baldwin’s death.

“I need some air.” Rebecca told her mother as she stood up and left.

“I’ll go with her.” Diana decided.

“No, you need to stay, in case this place erupts,” Philip argued, “I’ll go.”

Diana nodded, Philip was always the best at getting his sister to calm down.

He found her in an empty room, pacing beneath the oculus in the ceiling.

“I don’t understand,” Rebecca spoke up eventually, “why did she hate him so much?”

“She was turned by Him,” Jack, who had followed after them, still never said his grand-sire’s name, “it’s what allowed her to take the De Clermont seat. He must have hurt her, bad, it’s why she wears that creepy mask, and needs a witch to speak for her.” Jack added.

“You pity her,” Rebecca accused, “after what she did?”

“You’d be surprised at what He can make you do.” Jack answered, ashamed and Philip placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Benjamin Fox has been dead for almost eighteen years, she appeared three years ago, why wait so long and why? Is she acting out of revenge for her sire’s death, or looking to kill all of us because of what he did to her, whatever that was.”

“Becca-“ Philip tried to stem the tide.

“Who was she before, was she a human, a witch, daemon? How old is she, when was she turned? How do we not have an answer to any of this yet?” Rebecca’s mind spun.

“Finally,” Miyako commented from above them on her perch at the edge of the oculus, “someone’s asking the right questions.”

She dropped down with the grace of a cat.

“Dad will find out, Marcus will gather the Knights and-“ Philip started.

“And what? They get captured too?” Miyako shook her head.

“You can’t go after her yourself,” Philip told his cousin, “Uncle Baldwin was three times older and more experienced than you are and she still managed to trap and kill him.”

“I don’t mean now, I mean then!” Miyako told him.

“No, don’t even think it.” Jack shook his head.

“You’re giving me orders?” She hissed.

“Let’s take a breath,” Philip suggested, ever reasonable, “Miyako, what are you saying?”

“She wants you to take her on a Time-Walk, kill the masked vampire when she was vulnerable!” Jack explained.

“We can’t play with the past like that!” Philip reacted with horror.

“What do we need to find out who she was?” Rebecca asked.

“You are not doing this Rebecca, Mum will go nuts!” Jack agreed with his brother.

“I’m not saying we time-walk, I’m saying if we find out who she was it will give us an edge in defeating her now!” Rebecca lied, giving Miyako a pointed look.

“What do we need?” Miyako repeated.

“Pip?” Rebecca prompted but he remained silent.

“Father was just the beginning,” Miyako argued, “he loved you all and it is now my duty to protect you. Tell me what you need to weave your spell and I will acquire it.”

“I promised mother I wouldn’t use my magic for those purpose in case it hurts any of you, but-“

“But what?” Miyako prompted.

“If she was able to kill Uncle Baldwin then no-one is safe. We need a sample of her blood but that’s not going to be possible.”

“Let me worry about that!” She replied curtly.

Jack shook his head, the proceedings moving too fast for his comfort.

“Mum and Dad will have a plan, we should wait until we find out what it is.”

“I agree with Jack,” Philip nodded, “if we act now it could compromise what they’ve planned.”

“So, we wait?” Jack asked hopefully.

“Yes, we await our orders.” Philip agreed.

“And if those orders are to stand down and do nothing?” Miyako challenged.

“Then, and only then, will we act!” Philip decided and was met with grudging agreement from Rebecca and Miyako and relief from Jack.

———

PART 2

#adow fanfic #adow spoilers #rebecca bishop-clairmont #philip bishop-clairmont #jack blackfriars #baldwin montclair #diana bishop #miyako de clermont #matthew clairmont

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trying-write-fanfics · 4 years

Text

AsheXReader price of war part 7

It was hard to take every step towards Lord Lonato. Still, he had to find out why Lonato would do this, or why the church would target him. Would he be considered a threat too? Was this for Chris? Ashe kept his distance from Catherine and the professor. Dimitri put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to comfort them.

The mages were full of fog controlled by magic. Enemies emerged and attacked anyone who got too close. Ashe couldn’t see where anyone was at, but he refused to shoot blindly. Ashe was feeling lost. Everyone as yelling. Commoners were defending Lonato. He wished he was one of them, but Lonato didn’t seem to be on the right side of justice.

“Lonato!” Ashe called out hoping there could be some private conversation.

It all ended too quickly. He got to see the body of his adopted father, twisted and broken on the forest floor. There were no survivors from the opposing side. The professor and Catherine said some words, and he found some things. There was an assassination attempt letter on Lonato’s body.

“I need to be alone for a while,” Ashe told the two women.

Ashe found his classmates gathered together. Dimitri walked up to Ashe, but he brushed past the prince. Y/n was slung over Dedue’s shoulder. Was she killed in this battle? Was it a shallow victory? Mercedes was on the other side, healing her.

“Her shoulder is injured and then she was punched in the back of the head.” Mercedes told him. “She’ll be fine.”

But was she though? This whole battle didn’t have to happen. No one had to die, no one had to be hurt. Everyone told him they were sorry. He could only follow from behind. He had to plan for his siblings. It was all too hard to think about what to do next? Why did it have to come to this?

Byleth was kind enough to give him a day to grieve. It was spent in bed. At night he went to the cathedral. He asked the goddess why it had to come to this, but his prayers were not answered. He felt there was more he could do, but he failed. His professor failed him too, but so did Lonato. No one was willing to talk. No there are corpses.

Ashe returned to class the next day but did not find his friend in class. The class seemed to give him sorrowful eyes. It was too much for him. In the middle of the lecture, Byleth made eye contact with the boy, and he left the room knowing it was fine. He went to the infirmary to find his friend. He found Manuela there with a woman, and an unconscious Y/n laying on one of the beds. The woman wore a big dress and a big hat. A lot of her features were hidden, but her voice helps undercover them.

“I don’t know if you would understand this as a mother, but these rebellions are too much for her. Look, she can’t even stay awake for more than a couple hours at a time.” The unknown woman complained.

“I care for my students very deeply” Manuela replied. “It's the recovery process, things take time, but her shoulder will leave nothing but a scar.”

“If this whole knight phase doesn’t pan out, I’m afraid she’ll be too scarred up for marriage.” the woman sighed.

Manuela was about to say something, but Ashe wanted to make his presence known before it got violent.

“Professor Manuela?” he got her attention.

“Oh! Ashe, how long have you been here? Do you need anything?” she asked

“I was just wanting to visit Y/n.” he told her. “Is your class alright without you?”

“Oh, how sweet of you. Seteth owes me one, so he’s watching over them” she answered. “I’m afraid she’s out cold now. She wakes up here and there. She’ll be fine after a week of my magic.”

“So you’re the famous Ashe?” The woman questioned. “Esme (last name), Y/n’s mother.” she held out her hand.

Ashe shook it.

“Can we have a moment?” Esme asked.

“Of course.” Manuela did not want to spend another second with that woman, even if she was leaving her own office.

“Sit, sit” Esme pat the bench next to her. “My daughter tells me you two are quite close friends.”

“Yeah- Yes ma’am…”

“I’m glad she has friends here. I was worried about her. She is good at talking to people, but is better at weirding them out.” Esme said. “She’s no trouble is she?”

“Not at all.”

“She’s told me you’ve been tutoring her? She also has told me you’re quite talented with the bow.” Esme stated.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you a commoner?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s why you’re so formal with me” Esme sighed. “No need for manners here, speak freely. If my daughter was awake she would tell me to be less intimidating.”

“ Sorry about that.” he chuckled.

“I came here when I heard Y/n was going to be partaking in suppressing the rebellion. When I got here I got the news she was injured. I know she’ll heal up well, but it still breaks my heart to see her like this, you know?”

“It is weird not having a class with her.”

“That too, she’s missing valuable lessons on how to be a knight. This whole thing was her idea. I didn’t oppose it thinking she would find a match made in heaven, but I’m losing sight on how that’s worse it.” Esme rambled.

“Y/n is a talented healer. Maybe she’ll be able to open up a clinic of her own.” Ashe said.

Esme was shocked by such a suggestion. She didn’t hate it, which relieved Ashe.

“I guess that is a good possibility. I was hoping she could snag Dimitri and be even better than the late queen Patrica, but having a clinic with our name on it isn’t half bad either.” Esme explained. “You’re a smart kid Ashe. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Y/n tell you?” he sighed.

“No. When Christopher died, I visited Lord Lonato to give my condolences. It took a minute to put two and two together, but those dark circles don’t match the cheerful, helpful Ashe my daughter described.” Esme said. “I also remember you from your freckles.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, it was a tough time in my life.” Ashe sighed.

“No worries. Death hurts the living.” Esme saif reaching out to her daughter’s cheek.

Y/n’s (colored) eyes opened up just a little bit. She looked confused and grunted from the pain in her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n groaned.

“You asked that last time you woke up.” Esme dodged the question. “Are you eating enough? I bought you more letters to write to me. Did you get my last postcard? Your brothers have been taking good care of me.”

“I’m going back to sleep.” Y/n turned her head, and her eyes locked on Ashe for she didn’t notice him before. They widened from the sight of Ashe. “Ashe?”

“Yeah, I came to see how you were doing”

“I forget, but what happened at the-” Esme covered her daughter’s mouth as Ashe began to sulk into his body.

“We couldn’t reason with Lonato,” Ashe said.

Y/n also grew depressed over the fact of losing Lonato. Esme sighed. She didn’t want these kids to be exposed to such tragedies, but she could not protect them from such horrors. The politics of this world were too big that they might crush her beloved child and friend.

Y/n recovered from her injuries and returned to class. Ashe was still depressed, but more news was released. The western church was using Lonato’s rebellion to stage an assassination attempt on the archbishop, but it's a ploy to distract the guards for a real treasure. Only the blue lions class knew about this plan. It all made Ashe sick and angry that someone would use someone as kind as Lonato just as a pawn to die.

“Ashe?” Y/n rubbed his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you could be put on weeding duty,” Byleth asked.

“Uh- yeah.”

#ashe ubert #imagines #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #xreader

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kantuck · 5 years

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ADhD, something to think about.

A friend sent me this: (I’m copy/pasting, mistakes are the authors.)

“Kan, saw this on FB, thinking of you.”

I was asked a while ago by a friend to share my thoughts on ADHD, and what I believe about this unique neuro-diversity that we all seem to have. It has taken me some time to put it into words, but here is the basic gist of it and I hope it can help someone to understand the “why” behind what we all experience.

ADHD is not a curse, It is not broken, it is NOT a malfunction of the brain or a “Mis-wiring”. It is not from your mother smoking cigarettes when you were in utero, and it is NOT from too much television as a child. ADHD is a Nuero-diversity. It is a different wiring of the brain as it relates to the body and to information collection AND most importantly it has a purpose! Before I get to that piece though, let me share with you what I KNOW about ADHD.

ADHD is a label that we have assigned to individuals that present with a specific set of symptoms associated with a diagnosable neuro-diversity. These symptoms can include things like distractibility, forgetfulness, inattention, hyper-focused attention, emotional storms, irritability, feelings of worthlessness, active or overactive imagination, tardiness or skewed senses of time, imposter syndrome, out of control thoughts, and severely low self-esteem.

Recently, research studies have identified three (3) aspects of ADHD that are experienced by almost everyone with this neuro-diversity and not experienced by almost none without it.

Interest-based nervous system: Not just interest-based attention, but your entire nervous system functions differently based on your level of interest. When you find something truly interesting it will actually energize you. Sleep is irrelevant, Food is a fleeting thought. You are sustained by interest. Have you ever found yourself up way past time to go to bed, forgot that you had to go to the bathroom, or didn’t eat, just because you were so interested in something? Yeah, me too.

Emotional Hyper-Arousal: Imagine this like you have a volume knob for “Emotions” and yours is turned up 5 notches higher than the neuro-typical people around you. Your highs are higher, your lows are lower. Merely funny is hilarious and mildly sad is sorrowful. Everything is extreme. Not worth humor is funny and not worth heartache is indeed sad. Every emotion felt is more-than.

Rejection-sensitive-dysphoria: Basically, we are hypersensitive to rejection, from anyone. It doesn’t really matter if we consciously care about the individual or group that is enacting the rejection. We are just hyper-sensitive to being rejected by anyone for any reason. Even if we don’t want to be part of the club, we are sensitive to the club not wanting us as a member kind of thing.

Now if we combine these symptoms and aspects we begin to see some pretty obvious and reoccurring traits that cause problems in daily life.

Imposter syndrome: Minimizing our accomplishments and maximizing our failures or faults. If we succeed, then it was easy or luck, but if we fail it is because we are flawed or broken and we are totally responsible.

Hyper-focus: I can be focused on something that I am interested in, but cannot manage to pay attention to a board meeting. I am all about the next book coming out, but forget my anniversary.

Emotional storm: I have a thousand thoughts running through my head and each one has an emotion that I have to feel as it passes and therefore I feel a thousand emotions in the span of a few seconds and cannot differentiate between them.

There are many many more that I don’t think that I need to list. You can see the patterns I am sure.

What if…..?

What if ADHD was natural?

What if ADHD was not ADHD, but something else?

What if ADHD was NOT a Deficit or a Disorder, but an adaptation?

Scientific research now suggests that what we know as ADHD is actually an evolutionary adaptation to a Hunter/Gather lifestyle.

In a natural environment, where there are predators and prey, where the rustling of leaves, or the flash of game in the periphery, or the trickling of water heard, could mean the difference between life or death, it is actually an extreme benefit to have an overabundance of involuntary attention. It is a bonus to be hyper-aware (distractable).

This is why so many that have ADHD wired brains find solace in natural environments. There is so much to “Pull” our attention, but so little to “Pay” attention to. We find ourselves recharged by walks in the forest or sitting near a babbling brook. This is our natural born element and so it invigorates us.

So why so few of us then? Well, let's look at that. Darwin’s theories of evolution state that: If there is a mutation in an individual that is part of a species that makes that individual more likely to survive, then that mutation will be passed along to its offspring and therefore make the offspring more likely to survive than it’s counterparts of the same species and thus, the mutation will eventually, though the process of natural selection, be distributed to the entire species and will no longer be a mutation, just part of the species. For example: if a bird has a mutation that increases its beak size and that increases its survivability, then eventually the entire species will have larger beaks. So, let's look back at 20,000 years into our human history. Everyone that existed on the planet were hunter/gathers. It is very likely that at that time, the majority of individuals were also what we call today, ADHD. Then one day, someone decided that it would be a good idea to plant & farm & build walls & raise livestock & stay in one place.

Now we have these sedentary people that are NOT hunting or gathering in dangerous environments. They are protected by walls and removed from danger.

However, we still have all these ADHDers that cannot stand being still, so they are still hunting and gathering and putting themselves in danger.

Who is more survivable now?

Fast forward 20,000 years…..97% of all humans are sedentary and only 3% are ADHDers.

ADHD is not new, it is not made up by Pharma, it has always been here, just never called the same thing. The first mention of an individual that appeared to display ADHD symptoms that I found was from the writing of Hippocrates, also known as the father of modern medicine, he stated: The patient has quickened responses to sensory experience, but also less tenaciousness because the soul moves on quickly to the next impression.

Back then, “soul” was the word for mind and “impression’ was the word for thought. So what he was saying is ...The patient has heightened responses to external stimulation but has less follow-through because the mind moves on quickly to the next thought.

If that is not ADHD I don’t know what is.

This is not a bad thing though. All we need to do is look throughout history to see ADHDers in action. We can take the symptomatology that we know now and apply it to historical figures and we see that the most innovative and influential individuals in history were probably ADHDers.

Socrates Leonardo Da Vinci Mozart Benjamin Franklin The Wright Brothers Salvadore Dali Walt Disney Nikola Tesla Thomas Edison Albert Einstien John F. Kennedy And if those names don’t do anything for you then how about these names of self-professed ADHDers:

Justin Bieber Simone Biles David Blaine Terry Bradshaw Richard Branson Andre Brown Jim Carrey James Carville Jim Caviezel Wendy Davis Katherine Ellison Josh Freeman Ryan Gosling Viglil Green Ed Hallowell, M.D. Woody Harrelson Mariette Hartley Cameron Herold Paris Hilton Christopher Knight Solange Knowles Adam Kreek Jenny Lawson Greg LeMond Adam Levine Howie Mandel Audra McDonald Alan Meckler Rep. Kendrick Meek Matt Morgan David Neeleman Paul Orfalea Ty Pennington Michael Phelps Pete Rose Michele Rodriguez Louis Smith Leigh Steinberg Payne Stewart Shane Victorino Bubba Watson Henry Winkler Brookley Wofford

ADHD is not the “fault” it’s the exception. We have always been here and we have always been the ones that are changing the world.

There is statistically a higher percentage of ADHD in America than in Europe. Researchers believe that this is because our founding fathers and the immigrants that are our heritage had the out-of-the-box impulsiveness to pack up and go across an entire ocean to make a better life!

ADHD is not a curse, it is not a disorder, society has the disorder because as much as it touts individuality, it is only acknowledged once an individual complies with the obligation of normalcy. You cannot be creative unless you can get to work on time. You cannot be innovative unless all your bills are paid. Blah Blah Blah….

Being born with ADHD is like being born with a beautiful pair of raven black angel wings. Imagine for a moment how that would be. You would be shunned as a freak. Called an abomination. You would try to hide your birthright if only to “Fit in” or be “normal”, and always throughout all of the insults and put-downs, through all of the pain and sorrow, all you would have to do is spread those beautiful black wings and soar….

We are not the problem. We are the solution. We are the R&D while everyone else trudges on the assembly line. We are the inventors and the visionaries, while the neuro-typical are content with the status quo. We take the risks and run the chance….sometimes to our detriment, but also sometimes to glory.

Doubt yourself all you want. Tell us all that “your” ADHD is a disorder or a disability, but make no mistake…..You are amazing.

#ADhD

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queenoficeandfire · 5 years

Text

My Life With Christoper Pike - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Captain Christopher Pike or any other Star Trek who appears in this story. I own myself and my ideas only...

Chapter: 1/8

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Warnings: None

Words: 1,307

Chapter 1

"Time to wake up sleepy head." Sylvia Tilly's voice pulls from me from the realms of sleep

I open my eyes and smile knowing what today is

"Morning Tilly, it's today isn't it?"

"Certainly is, now get up and eat. We don't want you passing out at the ceremony." She tells me

I do as I'm told and get myself breakfast in the kitchen of the apartment she, Michael Burnham and the rest of my bridal party are staying in with me. For today is the day I become Mrs Emma Pike.

My husband to be, Captain Christopher Pike is staying in separate rooms in the apartment block on the Starbase we're currently on.

Christopher is due to return to the USS Enterprise, having served his time on the USS Discovery and we have decided to get married before we go. I'll miss my friends on Discovery but a life without Christopher isn't worth thinking about.

After a decent breakfast, I shower, wash my hair thoroughly, before drying it slightly with a towel, put on my dressing gown and put myself in my bridal party's capable hands.

Tilly does my hair, Keyla my makeup and Joann and Michael help me with my dress and veil. By the time they're done I scarcely recognise myself.

"So what do you think?" Tilly asks as I admire myself in the mirror.

"I look incredible, thank you all so much," I tell them

"You're welcome, now if we're all ready it's time to go." Michael declares handing me my bouquet

I place my veil over my face and we all travel to the church together. As we do so I can't help but think about all Christopher and I have been through, and how this day is a new chapter for us.

Before I know it we've arrived at the church. The girls get out first, followed by me. At the entrance of the church, I meet Saru who is going to give me away. We don't say anything to each other, but smile at one another, before I take his arm, the doors open and I begin my walk down the aisle.

It's then I see him, standing at the altar. My Christopher Pike. My Captain. My husband to be. My future. The love of my life. He looks so dashingly handsome in his Starfleet uniform. More so than usual. He's joined by Sarek, the Vulcan ambassador who's kindly agreed to marry us, Spock (Michael's adopted half Vulcan/half human brother), Paul Staments (the engineering officer from Discovery) and Leland (an old friend of Christopher's).

As I walk down the aisle all we see is each other, and I barely notice Saru handing me over to him.

In fact, I only come back to reality when Christopher leans down and whispers in my ear

"You look beautiful."

I smile up at him and blush

"Thanks, you look good too."

Sarek coughs slightly to get our attention

"Captain Pike, Emma if I may?" He prompts

"Of course, please proceed." Christopher turns his attention to him, as do I.

Sarek then begins the welcome

"We are gathered here today, in the sight of friends, family and Starfleet high command to witness the union of Captain Christopher Pike and Ensign Emma in holy matrimony."

Christopher squeezes my hand gently as we stand there. We've both waited a long time for this moment.

Sarek continues.

"Before I go on any further, I must ask you, do you both come here of your own free will, being of sound mind and body?"

"We do." The two of us reply in unison.

"Very well then, does anyone here today know of any reason whatsoever as to why this couple may not be joined?"

There's silence before Sarek moves onto our wedding vows

"The couple will now exchange vows. For this occasion, they have chosen to write their own vows. Captain Pike, you may go first."

The two of us turn to face one another, and I gaze at my husband to be as he speaks

"Emma, you are without a doubt the woman of my dreams. I have never fallen in love with anyone, in quite the same way as I have with you. You're beautiful, you're kind, you're caring, you've stood by me and the crew when things got hard and I love you for that. I love you with every beat of my heart, every fibre of my being. So, from this day forward I take you as my wedded wife. I hereby swear to love you, to cherish you, to support you, encourage you and protect you from all harm."

His words are sincere and I can't help but be incredibly touched by them. I have to wipe away stray tears before taking my turn

"Christopher Pike. Where do I begin with you? You are everything I want and need in a man and in a husband. You're brave, kind, understanding, honourable, gentle, respectful and twice the person I could ever hope to be. You're the prince charming in my fairytale. Our fairytale. You're the knight in shining armour who saves me from danger. I can only hope that by being your wife I can become as good a person as you, and repay you for all you've done for me. But I promise you now that I will love you as you love me, I will always stand by you, I will be faithful to you and I will make you proud to call me your wife."

Christopher's blue eyes gleam with a mix of tears of joy and the love he has for me as I say these words.

With our vows exchanged, we then exchange rings. Spock hands mine to Christopher to give to me, whilst Tilly gives me Christopher's to give to him. They're silver bands with the words "Love is a promise" in them.

Again, Christopher goes first

"With this ring, I thee wed. With this ring, I give my life to you."

I then do the same

"With this ring, I thee wed. With this ring, I give my life to you."

The rings fit perfectly and as we continue to look at one another we know what's coming next.

Sarek turns to us both and asks us the immortal, timeless question

"Do you Captain Christopher Pike take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"

"I do"

Christopher answers without a moment's hesitation. Yet his answer causes my heart to skip a beat. In a good way.

Sarek asks me the same question

"Do you Emma take Captain Christopher Pike to be your lawfully wedded husband? For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"

I don't need to think about my response. Christopher Pike is all I will ever want and need in my life.

"I do"

My answer is clear and sincere.

Sarek smiles at us both. He addresses the congregation

"Captain Christopher Pike and Ensign Emma have sworn their lives to and declared their love for one another. It is my great honour then to pronounce them as husband and wife. Captain pike you may now kiss your bride."

Christopher lifts up my veil, places his hands on my cheeks and seals his lips to mine. I, of course, return the kiss, and although we've kissed many times before, this kiss feels more incredible. Because we are now husband and wife.

We eventually pull away for air to the rapturous applause of our congregation.

Our crew are beaming at us and I can see Tilly crying happily.

With the ceremony over, we walk back up the aisle to celebrate our marriage.

@x-wingwarriorbbpoe8 @allthetrek @carrie-85 @starfleetisapromise

#Captain Christopher Pike #Captain Pike #Star Trek #Star Trek Discovery #fan-fiction #mini-series #chapter 1/8 #please leave feedback if you like this.

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ethenell · 5 years

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Best Films of 2018: Honorable Mentions

The time, once again, has come. The Oscars nominations are out there, and they’re ... puzzling ... But anyone interested in an alternate take can look no further.

The cinema of 2018 offered too many notable treasures to whittle down to a simple list of ten, so before we get into the meat of my countdown, here is an alphabetical list of ten films that just missed out on making my list, but are essential viewing for anyone looking to take in the best that 2018 had to offer.

Enjoy!

Blindspotting (dir. Carlos López Estrada)

I’m still waiting for the moment when the world collectively discovers the thing at which Daveed Diggs is not amazing. He had already garnered acclaim as a part of the experimental hip-hop group clipping. before reaching a wider audience and netting himself Grammy and Tony Awards for his role in the paradigm-altering musical, Hamilton. To that already distinguished list, we can now add co-writing and co-starring in one of 2018’s most original films. Blindspotting, set in Digg’s hometown of Oakland, CA, is a searing take on gentrification, racism, and police brutality that show off a deep understanding of the myriad political problems in the rapidly-changing Bay Area, while displaying an equally deft touch with the characters who find their lives irreparably damaged as a direct or indirect result. It’s impressive work from Diggs and co-writer/co-star Rafael Casal that first-time director Carlos Lopez Estrada brings to life with singular vision. Something tells me we’ll continue to see more of everyone involved, but Diggs is undoubtedly headed for greatness.

The Death of Stalin (dir. Armando Iannucci)

You’d be forgiven if you thought the creator/director of Veep, The Thick of It, and In The Loop had already mined politics’ deepest, darkest depths for the pitch-blackest comedy that one could possibly generate from the toxic combination of bureaucratic incompetence and egotistical narcissism. However, as The Death of Stalin shows with brutal precision, you would be wrong. The Death of Stalin is at times so bleak its difficult to even describe as a comedy without a bit of a cringe on your face, but it revels brilliantly in the theater of the absurd and probes ruthlessly at the ruling class with chilling contemporary resonance. And that’s all without mentioning that it features one of the best ensemble performances of the year. In a time when its easy to despair how much our everyday political reality has started to resemble a particularly discomfiting episode of Veep, Iannucci makes a triumphant return with an even more discomfiting message - never forget, things can always get much, much worse.

Hereditary (dir. Ari Aster)

Another year, another Sundance horror breakout. Even if it doesn’t quite match up with some of its more distinguished predecessors (I wouldn’t quite put it at the level of It Follows, The Babadook, or The Witch) Hereditary is clearly the year’s best horror film, featuring a handful of sequences sure to push you to the edge of your seat, and then keep you up at night. The perennially under-appreciated Toni Collette delivers a performance of such vast emotional range that it deserves mention among the absolute best performances of the year – which, of course, meant that it was doomed to be ignored by the Oscars. Nevertheless, any fans of the genre should stop what they’re doing (including, presumably, reading this list) and watch this film immediately. You won’t be sorry.

If Beale Street Could Talk (dir. Barry Jenkins)

A pairing like Barry Jenkins and James Baldwin makes so much sense, and has such immense creative potential, that it’s generally something that could exist only in cinephile dreams. It simply makes *too* much sense. Yet, here we are, and Jenkins’ follow-up to the critically-revered Moonlight, an adaptation of one of Baldwin’s lesser-known novels, If Beale Street Could Talk, is very much real. Does it measure up to the immense expectations thrust upon it, due in no small part to Moonlight’s rapturous reception and the much-hyped pairing of Jenkins and Baldwin? In some important ways, no. Is Jenkins’ script at times overly-reverent of its source material? In some important ways, yes. But when Jenkins filters Baldwin’s story of the redeeming power of love in the face of oppression through his own unique cinematic voice, the results are breathtaking. Jenkins remains one of cinema’s greatest emerging artists.

Mission: Impossible – Fallout (dir. Christopher McQuarrie)

At the very least, this latest installment in the M:I franchise was the most balls-to-the-wall fun I had in a theater this entire year, hurtling at a breakneck pace from one jaw-dropping set piece to the next with one of the world’s biggest stars carrying the screen from the first frame to the last. But at most, you could call it one of the decade’s best action films, with some of the most breathtaking stunt work ever put to film with an absolutely singular star who continues to push his penchant for cheating death and tempting fate for our entertainment to daring new heights. The truth probably lies somewhere between the two extremes, but either way, the Cruise’s latest ride as Ethan Hunt is undeniably one of the most thrilling yet.

Private Life (dir. Tamara Jenkins)

With 11 years having passed since her Oscar-nominated feature debut, The Savages, hit the silver screen, news that Netflix was financing and developing a new film from Tamara Jenkins was met with nearly unbridled optimism. More than delivering on that promise, Jenkins once again delivered a film that delves deeply into all-too-common but dramatically under-explored modern adult experiences. While The Savages followed two adult siblings dealing with the mental decline of their elderly parent, Private Life details a couple in their 40s going through fertility treatments. Like her debut, Private Life uses this trying, even destabilizing experience to explore the ways in which our long-established adult lives can be uprooted as much by our own choices as by external, unforeseeable events. With two sterling performances from Kathryn Hahn and Paul Giamatti at its center, Private Life is rife with incisive observations about overlooked truths of aging together. It’s beautiful work, and undoubtedly one of Netflix’s best “original” offerings.

The Rider (dir. Chloe Zhao)

Using a cast of untrained actors to spin a poetic tale lost opportunity by way of the American rodeo, director Chloe Zhao’s sophomore feature has keyed her as a rising master of cinematic realism. The film follows the struggles of a former rising rodeo star dealing with the fallout of a traumatic head injury suffered during a bronc riding competition, and mirrors the real-life experiences of its star, Brady Jandeau. who Zhao befriended while shooting her debut feature, Songs My Brothers Taught Me. Drawing out brilliant performances and setting them against the perma-golden picturesque of the Badlands, The Rider is a testament to what truly independent cinema is capable of and is sure to springboard Zhao to greater heights.

Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (dir. Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman)

The most unexpected triumph of the year, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse is not just a high watermark in the Spider-Man film series, it is almost certainly the best film to ever come out of Marvel Studios, and possibly the greatest superhero film since The Dark Knight. With an airtight script that spans several universes (literally) with ease, and featuring some of the most glorious and inventive animation ever to grace the big screen, Into the Spiderverse is a rare and perfect marriage between the words on the page and the visual language employed on screen. It a testament to what’s possible when talented artists with an original vision take big risks - it’s a breath of fresh air.

A Star is Born (dir. Bradley Cooper)

Even with an improbably underwhelming Oscar campaign sputtering its way to the finish line, it’s hard not to peg A Star is Born as the year’s most-talked about film. Bradley Cooper brought his gestating passion project to life with scope and vision rarely seen from a first-time director and Lady Gaga turns in an absolutely electric performance that elevates the film whenever she’s on screen. From the spine-tingling live concert scenes to the beautiful on-screen chemistry between Cooper and Gaga, there’s an awful lot to love about this latest iteration of this long-tenured Hollywood classic. Sure, there’s also plenty to nitpick at - obviously more than enough to fuel a backlash against the once-assumed Oscar frontrunner - but when this film is firing on all cylinders, it’s right up there with the greatest cinema of 2018. Cooper is officially a filmmaker to watch, and A Star Is Born looks every bit like a directorial debut that will stand the test of time.

You Were Never Really Here (dir. Lynne Ramsey)

One of the year’s most boldly-directed films, Lynne Ramsey’s latest is a lean thriller that goes for your throat but takes up permanent residence in your gut. Ramsey and star Joaquin Phoenix (delivering yet another show-stopping performance) bury you deep inside the mind of killer for hire, traumatized by his abusive childhood and haunted by his military past, as he embarks on a job to rescue a young girl from sex traffickers. If this premise seems familiar, believe me, the execution is anything but. Ramsey’s direction is unerringly brilliant, elevating You Were Never Really Here well beyond it’s pulpy origins to bracing, almost hallucinogenic heights. Oh, and did I mention it boasts one of Jonny Greenwood’s most adventurous scores to date? If that’s not enough to get it in your Amazon Prime queue (hint hint), then I don’t know what to tell you ...

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sarapii-peachy · 6 years

Text

All Hail

Pairing: Ken/Reader (featured as Aurora), Wonshik

Storyline: fantasy!au, royal!au Wonshik is given a prophecy that could change the kingdom of Excelsius forever

Wordcount: 3,983

Notes: R-18 VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH, SEX. This is a dark piece inspired by Shakespeare’s Macbeth (aka murder, betrayal). Hi. So, there’s a lot behind this. Ever since I first read Macbeth, I knew I wanted to write a drabble inspired by it so this is exactly what this is. Long time coming! Wonshik has this image of working himself to exhaustion for his music and it’s something he’s never satisfied with, and I know he’s so afraid of not leaving behind a legacy (the sweetheart) and this ambition led me to choose him. This is also to honor his 1st solo tour in Europe bc my man really out here doing that aye. Can’t believe I got to witness Kim Ravi tearing up the stage.

Also Ken in Iron Mask??? We moving from Prince Christopher to an actual king fight me.

// ☽ R A V I

Wonshik is exhausted. The battle has left both his spirit and body battered. The elements are much harsher this close to the coastline, wind, sand, and sea spray stinging his face. His ribs ache with every inhaled breath and he cradles his left arm against his chest, strength draining from his body where the knife had pierced beneath his armor. Dried blood cakes underneath his fingernails. Blood of men who were nameless in his eyes, yet still had wives, lovers, children. His victims.

His mind flashes and he once again sees his comrades fall to the invaders, men he’d trained with for years. Men he’d shared his tent with, dined with, now lying cold in the mud. Death did not discriminate and took her prey with swift chance. Not even the most skilled soldiers could hope to rely on their sheer might whenever she lingered on the battlefield.

He and the remaining men quickly bury their comrades before the birds can get to them.

Consequently, Death had decided to spare Wonshik tonight. Rebels from a nearby rivaling kingdom had breached their shore, hoping to sack Excelsius. Wonshik had been sent by the monarchy to quell the invaders. They had been victorious, but at what cost?

He rides now, weary, with the captured enemy convoy back to the castle to bring news of their victory. The dreary landscape of the highlands soon shift to that of his home.

What strength he’d thought he’d lost slowly starts to return at the familiar sight of the castle as they pass through the stone gateway into the kingdom. The rain has stopped and he’s glad to get out of the wind, his men following behind as they shuffle inside the castle. They’re filthy, tracking mud and wet stink in with them and he feels warmth in his chest at the face Queen Aurora will no doubt make upon seeing him.

Two standing figures, the monarchy themselves, await him on the other side of the throne room. On his left stands King Kenneth, Patriarch of the Six Heavens. He’s a tall, striking young man with kind features, his full lips always turned up in a smile. The crown upon his raven curls add to his height and a mantle of gold and rich navy blue, the colors of Excelsius, rest on his broad shoulders. The embodiment every king should be.

To the king’s right is Her Highness Queen Aurora, Lady of Light, a charitable young woman and Kenneth’s one lover since boyhood. Her gown matches her dusky gold complexion, midnight hair plaited back up and away from her face. Her eyes humorously survey Wonshik and his tracked footsteps as King Kenneth moves to greet his friend. Like sunshine personified, a beautiful queen to rule by her husband’s side.

Ken embraces him warmly regardless of his dirty state.

“You’ve proved yourself again, Wonshik. Well done.” He chuckles and claps Wonshik heartily on the back.

“It’s an honor to serve and protect our kingdom, my lord.” Wonshik answers and can’t help the hints of a smile tugging at his lips. Being the childhood friend of the monarch always made formal conversation a bit strange to him.

A son of a nobleman, Wonshik has lived in Excelsius all his life and spent his adolescence playing, reading, and studying here in the castle. He had befriended the then prince Kenneth in riding lessons one summer afternoon, Wonshik there for his knight training, Ken for his aristocratic duties. The two boys soon became inseparable. Although Ken had to spend a majority of his time preparing for the day he would succeed to the throne, the two of them were still able to wreck havoc after lessons were finished.

Ken squeezes his hand on his shoulder and Wonshik’s smile flickers when his refound energy starts to fade and is replaced by the full burden of his wounds. The familiar toll of battle settles over his tired bones. Understandably, Ken withdraws his hand. Queen Aurora steps forward, her expression tender and gentle.

“Tonight, your hard work and bravery has given Excelsius victory. Your sacrifices will be remembered in keeping our borders safe,” She says softly. “We will hold a banquet in honor of your men. Please, rest.”

Aurora’s statement resurfaces raw emotion. Their triumph had been nothing less than bloody. He will sleep tonight in his warm bed, safe within the castle walls while slain men lay in shallow graves on the cliffside.

Wonshik swallows. “Thank you, my queen.”

He’s dismissed from the throne room and he hurries to his quarters to wash.

Wonshik’s quarters lie on the other side of the courtyard gardens. Even as a young boy, he’s always loved walking among the greenery, perfumed by wild roses and cherry blossoms, listening to the babbling marble fountain that stands in the center of the gardens.

Yet, Wonshik stops. Tonight is different. Something doesn’t sit well with him, making his already fried nerves buzz in unease when he feels a strange change in the air around him.

A silhouette blooms from the sudden mist rolling from his left. Her feminine figure is shrouded in a long white veil that falls to her feet, opaque, yet translucent enough that her features are just barely hidden. He knew a witch when he saw one, using her magik to masquerade as an object of desire.

“Wonshik, hail to thee, knight of Excelsius.” She breathes. Just by the sound of her voice, Wonshik knows of her beauty. Honey and silk. A second veiled figure materializes to his right.

“Wonshik, hail to thee, Commander of Her Highness’s Comet Guard.” Says the second. He sees the parting of her lips from behind the smoke-like fabric. He gazes into the veil but sees nothing but the hidden contours of her face. He feels himself slowly falling, losing his wit the longer he stares, his feet moving towards her on their own accord. He was no Commander, only a simple sergeant. What were these sorcerers spouting?

A third and final figure emerges from the mist directly in front of him. Wonshik stays rooted to the spot when she approaches. Her touch is intimate, cradling his cheek with a cold hand, looking up into his face as though to kiss him. She leans forward, a lover’s caress.

“All hail Wonshik, thou shalt be king hereafter.” The third murmurs.

He reaches for the veil, entranced, desperate to see with confirmed eyes the beauty that promises such high prophecy. The figure drifts from his touch. He follows with quick steps and it’s almost comical as the figure easily glides away, joining the two others as they start to circle around him.

“All hail,”

His chest tightens when he feels a warm breath fan across his neck. He turns on them, daring to prompt an answer.

But the sisters are quicker and simultaneously step back into the curling mist that now envelopes him. He’s left alone in the gardens as a rose scented breeze chills his skin, shivering in his own sweat and grime.

That night, he sleeps like the dead. He’s grateful for the freedom of no haunting nightmares or strange paralysis that often seized his entire body after battles. He doesn’t feel particularly rejuvenated, but neither exhausted the next morning, like having fallen into a deep abyss the night before.

Daylight is still new, even for a soldier like himself to be up at this hour. Yet, Wonshik finds it strangely peaceful to be up before the birds have begun chirping, the first rays of the sun setting fire to a silhouetted, dark world.

Dawn breaks red and beautiful.

His early rise has given him the luxury of a morning ride through the castle grounds and a few hours of privacy from his comrades before the banquet.

He knew his men well enough to understand that he wouldn’t be the only one uncomfortable tonight. His men had been celebrated with political dinners before, but this was a first for a military disaster of this scale. Although victorious, it wasn’t fair to be enjoying a party when so much Excelsius blood had been spilt.

As he sways in the saddle, his mind wanders to the strange prophecy from the night before. Commander of the Comet Guard? King? Ken obviously occupied the throne, what did this prophecy suggest? How would Ken be displaced? What would Aurora’s fate be?

Another shiver shakes his core as thoughts race through his mind.

No, the prophecy is impossible. Wonshik had no drop of royal blood and was sworn to protect the crown, just a son of a nobleman. Having it simply fall to him is outrageous.

The prophecy was nothing more than a fever dream, he tells himself. Knowing his post-traumatic symptoms, it doesn’t take long to convince himself.

In the evening, Wonshik is pleasantly surprised that he’s enjoying himself at the banquet. Surrounded by an intimate circle of his closest brothers in battle with Ken and Aurora seated at the front of the hall, the tense atmosphere he had anticipated is nonexistent, instead replaced with one of commemoration and respect.

A few attendants duck in every now and then to assist in serving the meal and musicians fill the air with gentle melodies. Hearty food, ale, and companionship have allowed Wonshik to relax for the first time in far too long.

As the meal comes to a close, the tapping of a glass draws the men's attention to the queen. Aurora places her silver fork down onto the table and turns to address the room before her.

“Gentlemen, your service these past few months have kept our kingdom safe from harm. For this, a certain individual has demonstrated exceptional abilities in the arts of Knighthood and deserves to be recognized,” She pauses to thread her fingers through Ken’s, glancing to him. She smiles softly. “My husband and I have long discussed this decision and it is with great confidence that we present this ceremony before you all.” Aurora pauses again, this time looking directly to Wonshik. When she speaks, her voice rings clear throughout the chamber. “The Crown now calls Sir Wonshik to come before this Court and Company.”

Wonshik rises, his queen’s command and his own internal military discipline instinctively setting his body in motion before he can question what he’s being called upon for. Aurora strides to the center of the room, the king at her side. Wonshik kneels before them.

“Bring forth Starlight, the Great Sword of State.” Ken instructs to an attendant. His tone is authoritarian, not at all like the shy, playful young boy Wonshik had befriended as a child. A servant enters with Starlight, a beautiful longsword encrusted with jewels the color of the sun. Aurora takes the blade and places it so it rests on the young man’s shoulder.

“Sir Wonshik, you have been deemed fit for the high estate of Commander of Her Highness's Royal Comet Guard. Do you now swear by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy that you will honor and defend the Crown and the kingdom of Excelsius at all costs?” asks the king.

Wonshik feels his pulse quicken. The prophecy.

Commander was a position he had sought after throughout his entire apprenticeship. So much pain, tears, and bloodshed, hours endured in the cold as a young trainee, the aspiration of someday commanding his own legion burning deep in his soul. Now, it was finally going to be his.

Was he being awarded for his genuine efforts or simply because of the witches’ vision? The second alternative made his skin crawl, yet here he stood before the monarchy. His mind clicks and the realization almost makes him burst out into sick laughter. He’s able to mask it with a soldier’s self-control, eyes respectively cast to the floor. He already knew the answer.

With his plan, the throne will be his.

“I will.” Wonshik states.

“That you will conduct yourself respectively, drawing your sword only for just cause?” Aurora continues, voice cool. “That you will enshrine in your heart the noble ideals of our Guard to the benefit of your own good name and the greater glory of Excelsius?”

“I will.”

“That you will honor, defend, and protect all ladies, and those weaker than yourself?” asks the queen.

Wonshik raises his head, gaze resting on the woman before him. Sunlight throws itself through the stained glass behind her, casting her in a dazzling halo of colorful light.

“I will.” He murmurs.

She steps closer. “Then having sworn to me these solemn oaths, I, Queen Aurora of Excelsius, do dub you with Starlight, and by all that you hold sacred and holy..Once for honor..Twice for duty..Thrice for chivalry. Arise, Commander.”

Wonshik rises with the weight of a thousand empires on his shoulders.

Excelsius is plagued with a tirade of rain the rest of the bitter autumn. Time passes slowly, each day marked by another bone-chilling day as autumn decays into winter. The palace hunkers down with crackling fires in fireplaces and drawn curtains, children and servants rushing inside with rosy skin and chapped hands.

Ken loves winter. The festivities that came about this time of year never failed to make him smile and his joy was contagious. The queen, however, hated the cold. Despite being wrapped in furs and constantly sipping at hot drinks, Aurora was always frigid and longed for summer. Luckily, Wonshik was always there to boost her spirits.

As newly appointed Commander, Wonshik and Queen Aurora spent a fair amount of time together. Reviewing sovereign borders and drafting battle formations, Wonshik was delighted to find that the queen was no stranger to warfare. Aurora was a warrior queen, unafraid of bloodshed. His admiration for her was mirrored in her own for the Commander.

One evening, the two of them have just finished studying some maps, clearing the table when a servant brings in a tray of spiced apple cider. As they drink, the two teasingly speak of Ken’s recent actions of erecting a huge evergreen in the middle of the kingdom square and of the recent snowfall to the north. It’s nice to be able to move beyond politics and grim topics of weapon effectiveness in battle.

“You’re shivering,” Wonshik says concerned, watching as Aurora’s shoulders tremor violently.

She dismisses him with a shake of her head, pulling a long sip from her drink. “Commander, don’t act so surprised.”

Wonshik moves to her side and rubs his hands against her arms. “I must keep my queen from falling ill.” He teases. She laughs softly and leans into his touch, enjoying the heat from the fireplace. They rest for a while side by side.

Aurora falls asleep with her head resting lightly on his shoulder. The fire has long died, glowing coals barely illuminating the study aside from a slight, dull glow. The two sit in darkness.

Aurora suddenly startles awake with a gasp. His hands come to stable her as she awakens to a sightless world.

“You’re alright, Aurora.” He soothes.

Her breaths calm and he can see her chest fall less rapidly. Her silhouette nods and then the room falls into silence, only broken by the howl of wind against the windowpane. The world sleeps.

“I’ve got you. I always will.” He whispers. He doesn’t move away.

“Commander,” she presses. A warning.

“Is my duty not to protect you, your highness?” Wonshik dips his head, whispering against the shadow’s bare neck.

“Tis, but-”

“And how is my queen in any danger when she is in fact most safest here in my arms..?”

Winter drags on, and with it, the queen’s seasonal depression. She stays cooped up in her chambers, coming out only when coaxed by her husband. The cold is taking a toll on her. Light no longer fills her eyes.

In the meantime, Wonshik regularly meets with King Kenneth to look over inventory supplies for the barracks.

“Her Highness seems unwell,” Wonshik would often state, asking if the queen was taking her meals properly.

The king would reply no with a somber shake of the head. But, she’ll perk up in the spring, she always does, he would add.

The Commander would smile politely. The time to strike was upon him.

“Yes, of course.”

At Wonshik’s suggestion, Ken invites him to a dinner to celebrate old times and the coming holidays. Just the two of them, good friends united over food and drink. Ken is delighted to share his company, to say the least.

The evening arrives, and with it, a horrible snowstorm.

It doesn’t seem to sour the mood, however, as Wonshik arrives to the chambers with a table set with delicious delicacies. Ken stands with clasped hands, a loving king to greet his friend as an equal.

“Come, we have much to talk about, no?” The king chuckles. Wonshik grins and the two embrace like old brothers.

The evening progresses with amusement and comfort and again, Wonshik finds himself enjoying the simple pleasures of life. It was remarkable how things could brighten up with loved ones and good cooking. He laughs with the king now, nearly spilling his wine as Ken recounts a story from their boyhood.

“..And you were so desperate to get her attention that you fell on your ass right in front of her!” Ken snorts. His face is flushed from his drink and he pauses his story to take another swig from his goblet.

Wonshik joins in laughing, feeling the room slowly spinning as he empties his own cup.

“Guess the donkey wasn’t the only ass in that stable,” He chuckles back. Ken howls with laughter, gripping his sides. He beckons for Wonshik’s glass and quickly refills it before wiping at his eyes.

“How thankful I am that we’ve stayed together after all these years, Wonshik,” Ken ponders aloud after a quiet moment settles over the room. He smiles at the soldier a bit sleepily and his eyelids flutter closed for a heartbeat. “A king and his childhood friend, the commander of his queen’s army. Side by side, protecting their quaint kingdom. It’s like something from a storybook,” He says almost dreamily.

“Aye.” Wonshik agrees.

Ken smiles again and his eyelids droop, features slowly relaxing as he drifts off to sleep.

Wonshik rises so quickly that the chair scrapes violently against the floor and stabs his dagger clean through King Kenneth’s chest.

Ken cries out with a wet gasp. His eyes fly open, struggling against Wonshik who only forces the blade deeper.

“Why..?” Ken pleads. “Was I a tyrant?”

He shakes his head. “Nay, a good king. So much so that this was the only way.”

Wonshik studies the look in Ken’s eyes as he continues to choke on his own blood. It’s a look he’s witnessed tens, if not hundreds of times on the battlefield. The look of life slowly seeping away as it leaves the body, the fear of death lingering behind those pupils. No matter how strong their bond, King Kenneth would never understand. Ken has never had to take a life and live with the consequences.

So, Wonshik begins to laugh like the unhinged man he’s now become. He pulls the king closer, forcing him to look at only him.

“Your wife is with child,” Wonshik breathes. “My child, my heir to the throne.”

Ken’s expression weakens. Tears glisten in his eyes and a new look clouds behind Ken’s pupils, one he’s never seen before.

Heartbreak, betrayal.

“My legacy will reign and yours dies now with you.” Wonshik snarls. The blade twists and the good king gives his last breath in the arms of his most trusted soldier.

When news of the king’s death spreads through the kingdom, it’s like a plague has spread with it. Doors are locked and villagers seldom come outside, the streets deserted and empty with families locked up inside their homes. Grief and fear weigh heavy over Excelsius.

An assassin, rumored to be from the infamous rebel kingdom of Exodus, had broken into the royal chambers and slain the king after he had retired to bed. Commander Wonshik of Her Highness’s Comet Guard had been the one to discover the mutilated corpse of his childhood best friend. He had arrived too late with the assassin nowhere to be found, only an open window leading out into the icy, winter night.

The monarchy is in complete shambles, a political disaster. Immediately, the Commander is nominated for his past service and intimate connection to the late king.

A quiet wedding and coronation crown Wonshik as the new king of Excelsius, Patriarch of the Six Heavens.

Quelling the political unrest is not an easy task and King Wonshik has much on his plate. Kenneth Lee had been a beloved, well respected ruler and the notion of a rogue Exodus assassin sparks a wave of hysteria within the kingdom. If the king hadn’t been safe, what was to become of the common people? Where was the Exodusian army now?

It’s a difficult, burdensome lie to maintain.

The following autumn, Aurora gives birth to a healthy baby boy. Wonshik concentrates his efforts on raising his only son.

Aurora starts to slowly wither away, some would say of a broken heart. The queen’s glowing complexion has fizzled out, the skin beneath her eyes tight with exhaustion and sorrow. Yet, she stays strong for her kingdom. Queen Aurora stations extra men on the borders and increases nightly patrols, reassuring all that they will be safe from war.

A few years pass and the prince is now a young toddler. The threat of an Exodus invasion has died out, though unrest has not dissipated so, a nervous energy remaining over Excelsius like a tensed bowstring.

Wonshik himself has lost his youthful charm, looking haggard and worn with each passing day. Surgeons, doctors, even shamans are called to try and address the king’s sudden failing health, though it seems nothing will do the trick. He’s losing sleep, seeing the phantom of Ken behind every bat of his eyelids.

One moonless autumn night, Wonshik and Aurora lie in their chambers as their son amuses himself with a toy ball in the hallway. He passes the ball between his feet in the doorway. Raven hair curls against his forehead, plump cheeks and full, rosy lips colored with youth. Dressed sharply in royal attire, he’s already very handsome for the tender age of three.

Wonshik’s mind flashes and suddenly he’s standing in the middle of a riding ring. A young boy stands beside him, looking quite sharp sitting atop a leather saddle and gives him a gentle smile.

“What’s your name? I’m Kenneth, but you can call me Ken.” Says the boy. It’s his son, but the phantom has Ken’s voice.

Wonshik can hear the prince’s excited laughter ring out as he chases the ball further down the corridors.

“Why does our child look like him?” Wonshik gasps in horror. Aurora rolls on top of him and plunges Starlight through his heart.

“Did you really take me for a whore, my lord?” Aurora spits through gritted teeth. She’s trembling, both hands tightly gripping the handle of the longsword sheathed inside him. “I was already with child when you tried to bed me. I am loyal to one man and you cast him aside like dirt.”

Wonshik chokes. The fabric of their white bedsheets bleeds with his blood. She grasps his face and leans in close, turning his head to the side and forcing his gaze out toward the hallway. The young prince continues to laugh as he’s heard wandering farther and farther down the corridors.

“Do you not see? He has his father’s eyes,” Aurora hisses. “He is not your son. Your tyrant rule ends here and Excelsius will never be yours.”

The good queen unsheathes Starlight from his chest and looks to the rising sun to the east.

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