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retro-scorpio · 3 years

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The Arcana Meets The Devildom (Part Seven)

The Evolution of MC’s Relationship With The Residents of The House of Lamentation

Author’s Note: Even though the MC described in the following post will be based on myself, I will not be using my actual name, a fictional name, or gendered pronouns for MC at this time. I still want it to be accessible to people, and I feel like giving a name/gendered pronouns to my version of MC will remove a layer of that accessibility. Plus, it will (hopefully) allow people to insert themselves, their version of MC, and/or their OC into this if they so choose. Also, this is going to end up being a long post that uses explicit language, so if that’s not your thing, you can just scroll past this.

Fictional Backstory: Upon dying from the Red Plague, MC finds themselves not in the afterworld that they had familiarized themselves with, but plopped down in the student council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo with only the memories of the faces they left behind in Vesuvia and the knowledge of the magic they learned while they were still ‘”alive”. Once MC passes through the portal to return to the human world after their second stint in the Devildom, they find themselves back in Vesuvia due to Asra raising them from the “dead”. Neither the residents of Vesuvia nor the Devildom know that they’ve dealt with the same MC until after Julian, Asra, and Lucio’s arrival to the Devildom. Let’s just say everyone was in for a treat when their beloved MC strolled into the residence they were visiting and said hello to the Vesuvian person in the room.

Julian: MC’s main lover in Vesuvia. MC actually developed a crush on the plague doctor when they were his apprentice, but due to the relationship they had with Asra at the time, they kept their feelings to themselves. What MC likes the most about Julian (besides his good looks) is his sense of humor, because it shows the full range of his personality: intelligent and witty yet goofy and a little stupid. When it comes to bedroom activities, MC and Julian keep things fresh and exciting. There are times where they’ll do the good ol’ missionary sex, times where Julian will fuck MC silly (usually after an evening show at the community theater in Goldgrave when Julian just has so much adrenaline from acting on stage that he can’t sit still), and times where MC will edge Julian and make him beg for his orgasm.

Out of the three Vesuvian men, Julian is the most understanding and accepting of MC pursuing other people romantically during their stay in the Devildom. To paraphrase Julian, MC was considered dead in Vesuvia for the three years MC spent in this other world, and his relationship with MC didn’t start until after MC rose from the dead/returned from the Devildom, so he considers it a part of MC’s past that they should not feel ashamed of. MC enjoys the fact that Julian gets on with her Devildom friends/lovers as well as he does for a variety of reasons (as you, the reader, will see unfold in this post and in others).

Lucifer: MC’s main lover in the Devildom. MC developed a crush on the eldest demon brother pretty much the moment they set eyes on him, but unfortunately for MC, Lucifer initially saw them as a weak human exchange student that he was forced to take care of. Lucifer’s impression of MC only worsened when they went up the stairs to the attic, and MC was incredibly heartbroken and pissed when they found out that Lucifer was the one responsible for locking Belphie up in the attic and deceiving the other brothers about Belphie’s whereabouts. These feelings culminate in the underground tomb. MC, incredibly angry at Lucifer and yet (somehow) wanting to gain his approval, wraps Lucifer’s hands around their neck and dares him/gives him permission to kill them as punishment for allowing Luke access to the House of Lamentation and dragging Beel in their shenanigans.

Initially after this incident, Lucifer and MC wanted very little to do with each other, but as time wore on, they slowly grew closer to one another. MC’s crush on Lucifer resumed, albeit cautiously, and Lucifer started developing feelings of his own towards MC, although he would have never admitted that to himself or anyone else, not even Asmo (who sensed Lucifer’s crush on MC perhaps even before Lucifer himself did). Perhaps Asmo was on to something, because why would Lucifer feel as betrayed as he did when MC told him that they had met Belphegor? Sure, he felt that MC had just put his entire family at risk of experiencing Diavolo’s wrath, which is a decent enough reason to become irate at someone, but there was something else that was feeding into his anger as well, something that was related to love. MC, in a fit of passion and after Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, and Beel entered the room and tried to stop Lucifer from annihilating MC, grabbed a nearby knife and chopped two of their fingers off, staring Lucifer dead in the face and not shedding a single tear (due to adrenaline numbing the pain).

Once the situation with Belphegor was resolved and the youngest brother was allowed to live with the rest of his family again, Lucifer calls MC into his study and put their fingers back on with some sewing and a bit of magic. Just as MC is about to leave, Lucifer tells MC that he’s sorry. MC, understand that it takes a lot for the Avatar of Pride to apologize, forgives him, and Lucifer thanks them for their forgiveness. This interaction would be the catalyst for their romantic relationship, and they would eventually repeat this exchange when MC is about to kill Lucifer with the Night Dagger.

Lucifer and MC’s romantic relationship is one built on admiration for each other. Get Lucifer drunk on Demonus, and he’ll blab all about how much he adores everything about MC. The pair can usually be found in one of four places at the House: Lucifer’s study, the library, the music room, and Lucifer’s bedroom. The library and music room are safe places for the couple to be discovered in, for they’re either reading (library) or listening to the other play music (music room). Lucifer’s study is a bit of a gamble, for they could either be working on paperwork/schoolwork in each other’s company, or Lucifer could have MC bent over his desk and ramming his dick in and out of them.

As for Lucifer’s bedroom, it’s best for everyone involved if no one disturbs Lucifer and MC. Most of the time, Lucifer uses his bedroom to explore MC’s kinks. About half the time, it gets sexual; the other half is mere discovery of what MC likes and what MC deems as limits. Sometimes, when Lucifer just wants to be close to MC, they will do the good ol’ missionary. MC is one of two people that can get Lucifer to submit to them, and that happens only when the eldest demon brother wants a break from being in charge of everything.

Lucifer was pleased to find out that not only did MC and Julian know each other, but that they started a romantic relationship when MC returned to Vesuvia. Since Julian is (sort of) the Vesuvian version of him, it raises his pride (and ego) to discover that they both fit MC’s type. If MC doesn’t bring the idea up first, he might just suggest bringing Julian into some of their bedroom activities.

Mammon: One of MC’s fuck buddies in the Devildom. Initially, Mammon and MC vehemently hated each other. Mammon thought that MC was a pretentious snob, and MC believed Mammon to be a complete and utter asshole. Whenever they were near each other, they would inevitably butt heads and argue loudly, to the annoyance and shock of everyone else.

One of these arguments occurs in Mammon’s room. Lucifer had sent MC in there to help tutor Mammon, since they were doing well in the classes that Mammon was failing. MC gets frustrated that Mammon isn’t even trying to get the material, and Mammon accuses MC of only helping him in order to stay on Lucifer’s good side. MC lets a compliment slip when they yell at Mammon, “If I didn’t think there was a way for you to wrap your brain around this, I wouldn’t still be here!” Mammon stares at MC as MC processes what they just said, and the pair are so still and quiet that someone could hear a pin drop. Then, as if someone hit the fast forward button, Mammon pounces on MC, and they aggressively make out. Thirty minutes later, both are a naked, sweaty mess on Mammon’s couch, and the room reeks of what they’ve just done. Thank goodness demons can only impregnate when it’s mating season...

When Mammon isn’t fucking the shit out of MC (which is what usually happens when MC and Mammon get together sexually, despite popular belief), the pair is seen tinkering around with Mammon’s car. While MC does still tutor Mammon at times, Mammon’s (finally) at a point where he’s at least passing all of his classes. Mammon sometimes takes MC out with him to his modeling gigs, which has resulted in MC ending up on the cover of a couple magazines.

When Mammon found out about MC’s other life in Vesuvia, he initially got really jealous of Julian, but that feeling quickly got replaced with something else when he found out about the nature of MC and Lucio’s relationship. In his ongoing attempt of earning all the Grimm in the world, Mammon gets the “brilliant” idea to film a really filthy porno starring him, Lucio, and MC (with MC’s consent, of course). Mammon also likes taking naps with MC and Julian for some reason that he still doesn’t quite understand.

Levi: One of MC’s friends in the Devildom that they hooked up with once. Levi hated MC long after the TSL trivia showdown, and MC had no idea why. At first, MC chalked up Levi’s hatred towards them to his feelings about losing to someone he deemed inferior to him, but as time went on and Levi still was acting cold towards them, MC felt that there was something else that was upsetting Levi. As it turns out, it all boiled down to Levi’s sin: envy. Levi was jealous of MC on a multitude of levels. He saw how MC was acing the subjects that he struggled in; he saw how well MC got along with everyone; and he even saw how easy it was for MC to express their feelings for someone. Long story short, Levi felt inadequate against and unworthy of spending time with MC, and he hated both himself and MC for it.

All it took for him to change his mind was an impromptu family gaming night in Levi’s room. The game? DarioKart (the Devildom equivalent of MarioKart). Levi was winning every single race he was in, even against decent racers like MC, Beel, and Lucifer. Asmo, being the Avatar of Lust, was the first to discover that Levi’s skills at DarioKart was causing MC to, shall we say, look at the third-eldest demon brother in a new light. At Asmo’s advice, MC whispered in Levi’s ear that if he won the next race he competed in, they would make this a night to remember. MC gave him a kiss on the cheek, and that was enough motivation for him to destroy his opponents in his next race. With Lucifer (who was in the loop due to Asmo having a quiet conversation with him during the race) and Asmo’s help, Levi and MC were able to have some privacy.

Once everyone’s out of the room, MC moves from their spot on the floor and straddles Levi’s lap, which causes Levi to turn red and begin stuttering. MC moves Levi’s fringe out of his eyes and tells him how hot Levi was, winning so many times. Before Levi can reply, MC leans in and kisses him. Unsurprisingly, Levi’s shy at first, because he’s scared that MC’s going to pull away in disgust or that he’s going to wake up and find out that all of this was a dream; however, when neither one of those things happens, Levi gets more bold as he gains confidence. This slow, sensuous make-out session eventually leads to MC blowing him in his gaming chair, and after that evening Levi starts treating MC nicely (for some totally unknown reason (ha ha)). There is not a second sexual encounter, but Levi’s perfectly content with the one. All he needs MC to do is to hang out with him and watch anime and/or play video games.

Levi was excited when he found out that MC knew Julian and Asra, because that meant that he could invite the three of them to his room and know that they genuinely wanted to be there. Sure, Henry 2.0 is a nice enough friend, but Levi comes to discover that having human friends is just as good as having an animal companion.

Satan: MC’s (kind of) ex-turned-best-friend. MC first had their eyes on Satan when they entered his room for the first time and saw the sheer volume of books he had in his possession. MC’s crush on Satan grew when he was a guest speaker in their curses and hexes class. To put it simply, MC found Satan’s intelligence incredibly sexy. Similarly, when Satan was tasked with proofreading MC’s Devildom Literature essay, he discovered that the quality of writing was as good as his, that the points MC made in the essay were intelligent and pertinent to the topic of their essay, and that they had no grammatical, spelling, or formatting mistakes, he nearly busted a nut right there in the classroom.

MC and Satan’s romantic relationship blossomed after the incident that occurred between MC and Lucifer in the underground tomb, and the pairing was (surprisingly) a healthy one. Satan looked out for MC and defended them whenever Lucifer was criticizing them (both in front of MC and behind their back), and MC helped Satan to not only discover his own identity outside of being Lucifer’s spawn and the Avatar of Wrath, but to accept the parts of him that didn’t fit into either one of those titles. While the sex wasn’t the type to be described in erotica, it was definitely full of love from both parties.

Satan and MC broke up on good terms a couple days after Lucifer mended MC’s hand. Due to the fourth demon brother’s relationship with Asmo, he knew that, even though MC did love Satan and enjoyed being in a romantic relationship with him, their heart truly belonged to Lucifer. While the old Satan would have hated MC (for falling for Lucifer) and Lucifer (for taking MC away from him), the ‘new’ Satan was at peace with the whole thing. If there was anyone that he would want to see MC happy with (that wasn’t him), it was Lucifer. Satan knew that, once the foundation was laid, Lucifer would care for MC just as deeply as he did. Plus, it would be weird for MC to continue dating him when they’re trying to start a relationship with someone who’s technically his dad.

Satan and MC can usually be found in a quiet corner of RAD or the House, studying, reading, writing, and/or debating (depending on the day). They enjoy each other’s company, and they’re able to bond over their love of learning and books. When the demon brothers were under the influence of the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup and MC had to give each of them an order in order to them to snap out of it, MC had Satan kiss them on the cheek, figuring that it was intimate enough to break the spell the syrup had caused without creating an emotional mess.

Satan’s one of the few people in the Devildom that gets along with all three of the Vesuvian men, which is a huge relief for MC. MC finds the notebooks Satan has that document tales that he’s heard Julian, Asra, and Lucio told, and after skimming through the notes that the Avatar of Wrath has written in the margins, MC concludes that Satan has a crush on the three men. With Satan’s permission (for MC would have kept their mouth shut about the whole thing if Satan didn’t want the Vesuvian men to know that he has a crush on them), MC tells Asra, Lucio, and Julian about Satan’s feelings.

Bonus: Lucio’s the most surprised out of the three of them, for he had no idea that the most quiet demon brother felt that way about him. Unfortunately for Satan, Lucio does not feel the same. Julian’s flattered by Satan’s crush, and unlike Lucio, the plague doctor allows Satan to kiss him. However, once Julian and Satan pull away, Satan realizes that he has more feelings towards the idea of Julian and what Julian represents than Julian himself. And then there’s Asra. If Solomon and Lucio were the first Devildom/Vesuvia pairing to hook up, Asra and Satan are the second (although they might just become the first Devildom/Vesuvian couple). It’s almost like they needed MC’s permission in order to do anything sexual with each other...

Asmo: MC’s friend and the only brother they have not hooked up with. It always amazes people to find out that the Avatar of Lust hasn’t made any actual sexual advances towards MC, but it is indeed the truth. Sure, Asmo may say dirty things to MC, and he has given them a kiss or two on the lips, but he doesn’t feel the need to go further than that. Asmo’s perhaps the most sensitive when it comes to picking up his sin in other people, and so whenever MC feels turned on by something or someone, the fifth-eldest demon brother takes note.

The main thing that Asmo does for MC, besides inviting them to spa days and fancy events/parties/networking opportunities, is give them advice on their love life. Since MC is so nice to him throughout their Devildom stay, Asmo wants to return the favor, and he loves helping people, especially when it comes to romance. He was the one that got MC and Satan to sit down together and reveal their feelings for each other after the underground tomb incident, and he also acted like a mediator for Lucifer and MC, ultimately encouraging them to get over their nervousness and start going out with each other (once the situation with Belphie was resolved).

Upon finding out that MC knew the Vesuvian men, Asmo had a lot of questions. Is Julian straight? (no) Am I Julian’s type? (I don’t know) Could MC please ask Julian if I’m his type? (couldn’t you ask him yourself?) How about Asra? (he’s definitely not straight) Has MC witnessed the way Asra acts around me? (very flirty) Is he like that with everyone? (no) Does MC think that Asra’s trying to fuck me? (again, why don’t you ask him?) Is Lucio gay? (no, but he isn’t straight, either; not a whole lot of people in Vesuvia are) Does that mean that MC isn’t straight? (that would be correct) What’s the deal between Asra and Julian? (I believe they were lovers while I was here in the Devildom and they thought that I was dead) How was their relationship? (Toxic; Asra took advantage of Julian) Would Asra do that to me? (I don’t think so; he’s in a healthier place mentally) What about Asra and Lucio? (Lucio took Asra’s parents away from him during his dealings with the Devil) Diavolo?! (No, not Diavolo; a Major Arcana called the Devil)

Beel: MC’s friend with eventual benefits. Contrary to the popular belief that Beel is a giant meathead, he’s actually quite smart. Sure, he may not get the best grades in school, but if someone starts a philosophical conversation with him, he’s not only able to follow along but offer intelligent insights of his own. Some of this knowledge is due to the amount of time he spends with Belphie and (by proxy) Satan, but a lot of it is thanks to research he’s managed to do between eating, doing homework, and playing sports/working out. Philosophy interests the Avatar of Gluttony, particularly when it comes to that practiced in the human world. This is what ultimately piques MC’s interest in Beel, although his looks and offers of sharing and trying new food certainly doesn’t ruin things.

For a while, MC and Beel were perfectly content with being friends. But then the second aphrodisiac incident happened. The first was when the brothers ingested the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup; the second (which is this writer’s headcanon) is when MC accidentally drinks one of Asmo’s beverages that happened to have an ingredient that made the average human consumer very, very horny (it was an honest mistake, really; how was MC supposed to know that a Devildom version of their favorite smoothie would have that kind of an effect on them?) Beel was the only one home with MC when the aphrodisiac started to affect them, and so he was the one they had to go to in order to get some kind of relief. And he did exactly that.

You see, another not-so-well-known fact about Beel (unless one happens to asks Asmo about it) is that he loves the taste of cum. It doesn’t matter where it comes from (both from an anatomical and racial (angel/demon/human) standpoint); the moment it hits his tongue, Beel’s going to consume as much of it as he possibly can. To put it simply, the Avatar of Gluttony’s ability to suck dick and eat pussy rivals Asmo (because of his sin) and Lucifer’s (because he’s the eldest). He can go for hours if one allows him to do so. For this reason, MC and Beel’s relationship turns sexual, although there’s a bit of a mental hang up for Beel when it comes to MC reciprocating. It’s not that MC’s not willing to return the favor; Beel just feels like the point of that part of their relationship is for him to give them pleasure.

Outside of the sexual context, Beel and MC can often be found in the twins’ room, the attic, the kitchen, the roof of the House, or RAD’s gym. The roof and gym are the only two places where the two of them can get some alone time, because Belphie frequently tags along when they hang out in the other places; the roof is where a lot of Beel and MC’s conversations about philosophy happen, and the gym is where they work out together (or at least at the same time, as a human is far too weak to do Beel’s workout). They’re not the closest pairing, but both of them like each other nevertheless.

The fact that MC knew the Vesuvian men didn’t quite register in Beel’s brain. Mainly, it didn’t make that much of a difference to him whether MC led two lives or not; he was just happy to be connected with MC. That is, until Julian starts telling him that he should let MC give him a blowjob at least once. The plague doctor doesn’t completely understand that Beel doesn’t feel the need to have MC do that for him. The sixth-born gets plenty of pleasure from MC’s pleasure, and that’s enough for him.

Belphie: MC’s side man. MC was initially hesitant to get close to Belphie after the incident in which he killed (an alternate version of) them, but when they saw that everyone else (minus Beel) was ignoring Belphie’s existence, their pity drove them to have at least one conversation with the Avatar of Sloth. Belphie caught on to MC’s pity pretty quickly during that conversation, but he liked the fact that someone besides his twin gave a shit about him, even if it’s the last person he would have expected to care.

One conversation turned into two, which eventually turned to them meeting in the planetarium at least once a week to look at the stars and talk about all kinds of things. The longer they meet, the more chemistry develops between them; this chemistry culminates one evening when, as MC was talking about an annoying demon in one of their classes, Belphie leans in and kisses them. This leads to a slow, sensuous make-out session that leaves both of them out of breath and a bit dizzy (but in a good way).

Belphie’s sexual nature is subdued but full of passion, and he knows exactly how to make MC melt under his touch pretty much from the get-go. If the walls of the planetarium could talk, it would reveal that MC and Belphie have fucked in just about every corner of the room. Sure, they still talk about life, but a good chuck of their time spent is devoted to sexual activities. One could say that their relationship evolves similarly to that depicted in “Beauty and the Beast”.

Belphie really doesn’t give a shit about MC having another life in Vesuvia, because sometimes it means having extra company (that isn’t Beel). Julian and Asra sometimes join MC and the Avatar of Sloth in the planetarium (99% of the time, it’s to simply talk, but there was an incident when Belphie, Julian, and Asra all took turns making out with MC, which made for a very interesting evening), and Lucio and Belphie’s occasional nap pile finds itself a third member in MC.

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hunnyuwu · 4 years

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My Baby Don’t Like It || NCT Jaehyun+Mark [part I]

Premise: What went wrong along the way? After everything we had been through, you still chose to leave me?

Pairings : Dad! Jaehyun x fem! reader x Friend! Mark

WC: 2.1 K

Warnings: explicit language, some extreme fluff

Part I || Part II || Part III

"Hey baby! How are you today?" You were crouched down on your knees, shooting a silly smile as the most adorable four year old in the world ran straight into your outstretched arms, worming his way into the crevasse of your neck. You cooed into the kid’s ear, happy to see the boy happy and healthy. He withdrew from his squirmy snuggles to plant his tiny, moist lips on your soft cheek as his little greeting to his beloved Noona.

"I'm happy to see you, Noona!" A smile lit up his round, chubby features before he nuzzled back into the crevasse of your neck. You rubbed the top of his head a few times, messing up his short black locks, before getting up so that you were finally standing at your own height.

"Thanks for looking after him today, Y/N."

Your heart beat slowed down to a steady, rhythmic pace immediately. The slow, heavy thrumming taunted you as it rattled in your within the hollow shells of your ears. You interlocked hands with the small boy beside you before lifting your chin to see the person before you.

A gentle smile blossomed over your lips, a wave of calm washing over your body as you examined the familiar face before you, "Of course, Jaehyun."

"Remember Y/N, I changed my name." Jaehyun gave you a teasing jab, a dumb grin occupying his eyes. You flinched a little backwards, knives stabbing your poor heart as memories flashed at the forefront of your mind.

‘Yeah, but you changed it for her.’

"A-Ah, right! Sorry, have a good day, Yoon-Oh."

You released a breath that were holding for a little while as you saw Jaehyun hop into the driver's seat of an extremely expensive, luxury car. The flashy woman in the passenger seat threw an overstated air kiss to the little boy beside you, glancing your way soon after. A scowl replaced the smile you were holding onto desperately as she simply smirked with triumph. Your free hand curled into a tight fist as you watched the car whiz away, to the point that your knuckles turned white and your nails threatened to puncture the flesh of your palm.

She removed Jaehyun from your life,

And he allowed it to happen.

You and Jaehyun had known one another since primary school. On a bitter, cold day in the autumn of your second year, Jaehyun nervously approached your lunch table to ask if he could sit with your group, which you guys obviously said yes. While the friends you had in that group all eventually slipped away from your life through your years of schooling, Jaehyun and you had managed to maintain a close friendship. The close bond and chemistry the two of you had was undeniable to the public and private eye. Everyone thought the two of you would eventually get married, which you didn't mind them thinking in the slightest. Jaehyun had always thought the same too, even though there was no official romance. Just adoring looks, sweet gestures, lovely memories, and tense atmospheres.

In university, you finally confirmed your feelings for him, ready for that next step with him. You finally realized that he was your destiny, and you thought you were his as well.

Next thing you knew, Jaehyun found a girl from his economics class and the rest is history. They had an accidental child early on in their whirlwind romance, the one you were currently watching playing with stackable plastic blocks. Anger boiled your blood... you still loved Jaehyun to the depths of your heart, to the point that you regularly questioned whether you would ever be able to move on, but you couldn't understand how dense he was when it came to his girlfriend: Jimin.

Jimin wasn't your average, plain Jane college gal. She was simply receiving a business degree for the sake of having the piece of paper that she didn’t even work for. Jimin had her daddy's money and company waiting for her once she deemed herself ready for the role. When Jimin set her eyes on Jaehyun the very first class of economics, it was game over for anything between you two. Jimin made it her mission to claim Jaehyun as her own personal property, in other words her personal boy toy, basically making it her life’s mission to rid of you in his life. Or as she specifically explain it, 'spending quality time with boyfie while they were young.' You saw through her sugary sweet act from the moment you laid eyes on her when Jaehyun introduced the two fo you.

She was a brat, a snob, a snake, and any description with negative connotation that you could think of. You hissed as you remembered that the woman even convinced him that 'Yoon-Oh' was a more handsome name than Jaehyun. ‘How could he be so under her spell to not see the sort of shit she puts him through?’ You wondered.

‘The least she could be is a sweet, decent person to make Jaehyun happy in life.’

That would have satisfied you, but in the end, you knew that people never really get what they want. You were left high and dry while a snobby rich whisked Jaehyun away like he was never there to begin with. And the fact that the woman barely paid any attention to her child made you absolutely sick to your stomach. Hot tears pricked at your eyes as you watched the innocent boy giggle as he was currently in the midst of building a little block boat.

‘Taking random selfies with your extremely adorable child for your dumb Instagram page does NOT count as parenting, Jimin.’

As you reminisced on all of the times that you had to deal with Jimin's endless childishness and her possessiveness over Jaehyun, you felt a little tug at your sleeve. You smiled tearily as you saw one thing that significantly brightened up your bleak life.

"Noona?"

"Yes, Baby?"

"Why do you look so sad today?"

Your heart constricted like someone was squeezing it tightly, already feeling regret as you had been too absorbed in your own thoughts to give him your full attention. You didn't have an early education degree for nothing.

"Ah, just little things, Baby. Don't worry about it."

"But I don't want Noona to be sad! We should get you ice cream like you do when I get a boo boo!" Jaehyun's son, Jeno, happily suggested, probably just wanting to eat some ice cream himself. You were put into a bout of laughter as you lovingly looked at Jeno get up to 'go get you some ice cream to fix your inside boo boo.'

You complied as you simply couldn't ever say no to the precious boy, so you were on your way out to the local grocery store near your house, which you hadn't gone to in awhile. You peered down to the eye smile prince himself who was happily skipping alongside you, his tiny hand wrapped around the middle three fingers of your hand, a gesture that you you screaming in an internal maternal mess.

Jimin and Jaehyun have been so neglecting of this poor child lately, always going out on day long dates and luxurious overseas trips, obviously as per Jimin's request.

You had to say, you were extremely disappointed at Jaehyun for forgetting his caring, sweet roots. The child you were currently leading into a small grocery store was basically your own, you were more of a mother to him than Jimin could ever be.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You looked around to see who called out your name when you spotted a familiar face, causing you to stumble back with pleasant surprise.

"Oh hey, Mark! I didn't know you worked here! Master's degree yet?" You led little Jeno over to the cash register to greet him, gushing over seeing the adorable guy once again. You knew Mark when you were a senior in college, him being a spry sophomore at the time. While he was a music major and you were an early education major, you two fatefully ended up in the same science requirement classes, leading to a beautiful, supportive relationship to blossom between the two of you. You hadn't been able to see him as of late as you were busy with your job.

"Yeah, I’m here part time. Needed some money so I can pay off my college debt as I'm looking for a gig at the moment. But anyways, uhhh, y-you look beautiful as ever, Y/N. Is he your child?" You blushed at his compliment while looking down at little Jeno who Mark was gesturing to gently. Jeno was shooting Mark a suspicious glare causing you to giggle as you dropped a hand to pat his head.

"No, this is Jeno, Jaehyun's son. I regularly babysit him."

Mark gave you a confused look, something wasn't adding up for him.

"You and Jaehyun aren't together?"

You were taken aback at his lack of knowledge. You even told him about Jaehyun's girlfriend a long time ago, but it seems like he didn't remember. Besides, you and Jaehyun were very, very not together.

As you were about to explain, Jeno took the spotlight.

"Daddy should date my Noona! She's a lot better-"

"Shh, you shouldn't say stuff like that, Jeno." You cooed to comfort the pouting kid as you hoisted him up onto your waist to rock him a little. He was getting a little heavy for this, but you didn't mind throwing your back out for him.

Mark laughed to himself, throwing a loving gaze your way as you and Jeno bickered for a little. His insides turned to goop as he fell down the tempting rabbit hole once again.

"Well, if you're not with anyone right now... c-could I ask to maybe take you out on a date sometime?"

You abruptly paused your conversation with Jeno to whip your head to the blushing male. A little blush to match his crept up to your cheeks as you reeled over what he just said in your mind like a broken cassette.

"You want to... go out with me?" You whispered with a tilt of your head, needing a firm confirmation from him before you let your mind start playing tricks on itself.

"Yeah, if that's fine with you." Mark restated, biting down on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer.

Thoughts of Jaehyun’s beautiful, warm smile plagued your mind like a disease; you were still very much in love with him. Even if his actions gave you a whole list as to why you should give his ass up in a heartbeat.

You looked back into Mark's eyes, finally making up your mind.

"I'd love to, Mark."

"Really?" He choked out, already expecting a rejection coming his way. You were oblivious to it, but Mark had the largest crush on you ever since you became partners for your science class. Whenever he even thought of asking you out, he remembered how close you were to Jaehyun, so he always chickened out.

This was finally his chance.

"Yeah, of course I would." You said sheepishly.

"But what about Daddy?"

You looked back to Jeno who was inches away from your face with round, glassy eyes. You sighed as you gave his cheek a quick little peck.

"Your Daddy is happy with your Mommy, Jeno. Don't worry, you will always be the number one man in my heart, okay? We will have a bunch more playdates!"

Mark watched as you comforted Jeno, feeling his heart thump violently against his ribcage. He knew you were the one for him, and he truly pitied Jaehyun, for he couldn't even see the true beauty that was sitting in front of him for so many years. Mark prayed above, thoroughly thanking fate to bring you to him today.

"Excuse me, but are you checking out right now?" An elderly woman appeared behind you with a harsh glare, a sharp tongue to match her tapping foot. You bowed quickly, not too much so that Jeno wouldn’t fall off, muttering small apologies as you moved out of the way.

"You better give me a discount for the ice cream, Mark!" You yelled as you walked away with Jeno over to the ice cream freezer. Mark gave you a cute little smile before diving back into scanning the items that that woman gave to him. Though it has been hard in your journey to give up on Jaehyun, there may be just as amazing men that would be better for you out there. You sighed out happily, maybe things were going to improve for you in the future.

~~~

Part I || Part II || Part III

This mini fic is the result of when I learned that Jaehyun said he would have basically been a teenage dad if he wasn't an idol 👁👄👁

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oneweekoneband · 3 years

Text

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages. (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time.

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot.

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift, she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

#taylor swift #folklore

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angellissy · 4 years

Text

tours & surprises

This is based on a request from @babygirlmil , hope it is okay!

Nick Mara x Reader

“And you’re completely sure that he has no idea?” The boy whose face covered my entire phone screen just shook his head so violently that his glasses almost fell off. The black-haired girl sitting beside him let a laugh slip past her pink lips, causing Brandon to give her the most annoyed look he could muster. “B, you better practice your poker face if you and Maggie are the only ones keeping this secret.” His facade slipped at that, and now all three of us were giggling, I don’t know if it was from nerves or from just having bad humor. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to matter since giggles kept slipping past my lips whenever I tried to say something serious.

“Okay for real, he doesn’t even suspect anything right?” Maggie and Brandon sighed in union and just shook their heads. “Not right now, but if you ask one more time I will go and fucking tell Nick.” I narrowed my eyes at the black-haired girl that somehow had managed to become my best friend. “Sorry, I just really want it to be a good surprise.” Her harsh expression melted a little at my words and she gave me a cheeky grin. “Well it will be, and listen you didn’t hear this from me but he has been pretty annoying talking about you all the time, so you better give him a good fuck.” Both I and Brandon looked at her with our mouths wide open and he leaned back into the sofa they were occupying and just mouthed oh my god. “Well yeah why do you think I am taking a four-hour plane ride to see him?” She snickered at that while Brandon just got up and left, muttering something about now wanting to be a part of our freaky conversations. “However Mags, you shouldn’t be the one talking when your man can’t even handle talking about it.” I stuck my tongue out at the camera, while she just laughed and shook her head.

After we hung up, I held my phone in a death grip trying to ease the anxiety that rose whenever I glanced at the plane. The fear of flying had plagued me since before I could even form a sentence, but now it was mixed with the nerves that came from not seeing my boyfriend for almost four weeks. Usually, it would be his hand that my fingers were digging into whenever my nerves got the best of me, but today my phone had to suffice.

The only time my fingers let go of my phone was when I got off the plane and finally could feel some sort of calm enter my body. I survived a four-hour plane ride by myself, surely I would be able to get to their venue without fucking this up? But before I could get going, there was a need to change out of the sweatpants and hoodie that had been on my body for way too long. A couple of minutes later, a pair of light blue jeans and a white shirt adorned my body. It wasn’t much, but it did take away the feeling of being disgusting.

To Maggie L

I’m taking a uber now to the venue now, care to open the door for me?:)

From Maggie L Duh

After an awkward uber ride and a lot of banging on the door for Maggie to let me in, I felt drained. But the knowledge of being in the same building as the person that held my heart, made energy burst through my veins.Their show was starting soon and I was hiding in the bathroom, waiting for Maggie to tell me that the coast was clear so that we finally could go out. When she had opened the door for me to get in the building, we had to run and hide. Apparently Brandon had forgotten about me and decided that the boys were to take that exact route through the venue. Maggie and I had been sending several curses his way when we finally were able to catch our breaths.

A light knock on the door woke me up from my trance, and I quickly opened the door and walked out. I had barely gotten out of the door before Maggie linked our arms together and started dragging me towards the barricade, where we would be spending our night. “So what’s the plan, are you going to like surprise him after the show?” I turned my face up to look at her and nodded. “Yeah, that’s the plan.” She gave me a small smile and then started walking faster as she heard the opening music.

Wait a fucking minute

“Maggie Lindemann! Please don’t tell me what I think you are implying.” I yelled after her and started running after her. She turned around and just gave me a cheeky grin, causing me to put my face in my hands and sigh loudly. “Girl what is your problem, I haven’t said anything.” I gave her an annoyed look as she continued to giggle, but all my thoughts melted away the second that the boys ran out on stage. Fuck he looked so good, I shivered at the thought of lying in his arms tonight. As a child the thought of loving someone so much you that you couldn’t take your eyes off them seemed silly and impossible. But when Nick was dancing and singing his heart out, how was I supposed to look at anything else? So during the first thirty minutes of the show, I watched with tears in my eyes while my mouth hung open in astonishment. In the corner of my eye, I could see Maggie filming me but my mind was elsewhere. “Guys guys, there is actually someone special in the audience today.-” Brandon paused and looked at the other boys with a small grin, three of the boys looked equally happy while the fourth one looked at all of them in confusion. I turned to look at Maggie, my heart beating faster and faster for every second that ticked by.

“So you’re telling me that your boyfriend forgot that I was coming, but he could fucking remember to drag me up on stage? He knows I have stage fright.” Although what I was saying was indeed true, a big part of me was becoming ecstatic over the fact that I would be able to hug Nick and bury my head in his chest in just a couple of minutes. “Shh, He is talking again.” I shook my head at her but couldn’t help the way my whole face lit up when Brandon said my name. “So y/n, you care to come up here?” The second Brandon said my name, Nick furrowed his brows and looked at all the boys while asking them something that I couldn’t possibly hear over the screams. Maggie’s hands were on my back as she started pushing me towards the little staircase that led up to the stage. Nick was still looking around with a confused expression, he didn’t really seem to know what was going on. He was looking for me in all the wrong places, making Zion turn him around and push him in my direction.

He stumbled over his feet when his eyes caught mine and I brought my hand up to my mouth if it was to stop myself from laughing or crying, I did not know. People were screaming our names, it felt surreal because I did not even think people knew who I was. But they knew Nick, and that was enough for them. Nick said something, but yet again I couldn’t hear. Therefore I started running towards him because I never wanted to miss another word that came out of his mouth.

His arms engulfed me in a body crushing hug, and now I couldn’t stop the tears from escaping my eyes. He spun me around and laughed, the other boys were saying something in their microphone but I couldn’t focus on anything but Nick’s laugh.

“I wasn’t supposed to cry, you were.” I laughed when he set me down on the stage and he grabbed my face between his hands, wiping away any tear that had managed to find it’s way down my cheeks. “Fuck, you’re really here mamas.” I smiled at him, mimicking the toothy grin that was lighting his face, and I placed his face between my hands. Before I went in for the kiss I had been longing after for four weeks, my lips brushed past his ear, whispering

I’m really here.

#zion prettymuch #prettymuchimagines #prettymuch #nick mara #zion kuwonu #austin porter #edwin honoret #brandon arreaga #imagines

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honeyrose-tea · 3 years

Note

this has been a strange start to the new year for sure. how are you doing? what did you think of the situation in the capitol? any thoughts or worries about the rest of the month? I'm curious to hear your thoughts on everything. -🌙

thank you so much for the ask💞 almost every day I check my inbox anticipating the next time I'll hear from you. just knowing that someone cares.... it really does a lot for my self-esteem. I don't have many friends right now and the few I do are very busy and have a lot of things they would rather do than talk to me. thank you for making time to listen to me and ask me how I'm doing. you wouldn't believe how many people don't. I haven't always been the most consistent presence for you and I'm sorry. I'm trying to do better and be less selfish because I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of that. thank you for always being kind to me, pen pal.

there is a lot I want to say regarding the capitol and the situation in the country in general. as a social science student (and hopefully one day a professor!) these situations are of great academic interest to me. as a bisexual woman and an informed US citizen who cares about my rights I am also very personally vested in American issues. but first I would like to tackle your question regarding how I'm doing:)

I'm doing pretty good. classes have started back up but most of mine are online. I'm thinking of switching to online exclusively because of how much emotional (and sometimes physical) labor in-person classes are, and also for the sake of my health and my parents'. it's funny how so many things we did with ease before the pandemic seem so burdensome now. even small interactions are anxiety-inducing now, and I find myself having a hard time socializing even casually. like a muscle that has atrophied without use, my social skills are awful now. on a happier note, my productivity and creativity are both at all-time highs since social interactions aren't using up all my energy anymore. I brought my record player to my dorm room and I've been listening to a bunch of music, I've also been writing and recording some music of my own. I have a couple of demos and if you or anyone else is interested, I'll post them on here. once I record and edit full band versions I'll put them up on my soundcloud. I've tried sharing some of my stuff with some friends but none of them really care and I don't want to annoy them. besides, it's more for myself anyway. I wang to prove to myself that I can make music and that I can say something worth saying. a lot of my struggle over the past 6 months has been that I feel as though nothing I do or say can change anything, that none of my actions matter. I struggle a lot with control and I've been working on it for years, but it's still really hard for me. anyway. I'm enjoying class and what I do outside of it. I've been in my element living alone again (in my dorm) and feeling free to wear/do/say what I want, when I want. I wash my dishes and sing to myself and manage my time and drink lots of artificially sweetened and heavily flavored coffee without anyone around to judge me. and I get to cry and masturbate when I want, both of which are helpful in regulating my moods. I don't know. it's not like I'm doing anything exciting, but I am doing each thing I do well and with a happy heart. I feel like this portion of my life is something of a hibernation- the winter seasons combined with the pandemic have me in a cozy little daydream, reading and self-reflecting and getting back in tune with myself and my passions. I have a feeling that the spring and summer will be very vibrant bustling months so I am trying to enjoy my rest and soak in as much knowledge about myself and the world around me as I can. it's hard for me to live in the present and not get antsy (connected to control issues, I think) but I'm getting better at it. on the subject of the future, I've also been using this time to look into grad school and prepare for the GRE (a standardized test required for most grad school applications, similar to the ACT/SAT). I'm learning a lot that I didn't know since neither of my parents went further than undergrad, and I'm getting excited. I'm really looking forward to doing research. I've already been collecting some thesis ideas for an undergraduate-level thesis that I have to complete next year for the honors college, and hopefully I can turn that into a masters and/or PHD thesis when the time comes. now, on to more important matters than my silly little life.

I have very complicated feelings about america. I do have some attachment to some of the original ideas that are at the foundation- "bring me your huddled masses...", "all men are created equal", the general spirit of democracy, etc.- all of these are valid and worth keeping (in some form) to me. I think a lot of good people and ideas exist around us and I believe that we must be as empathetic and kind as possible to one another in order to navigate the current climate and preserve the good that we do have. that said, america was also founded on some pretty terrible, bigoted principles and our history- as well as our present- is marred by injustices. our society has become highly individualistic because of capitalism, and it has resulted in considerable division on every level. the competition that fuels capitalism is like an invasive species of plant, it does not only exist within our economy but it slithers out into our social world and the way we relate to others. I think capitalism coupled with our post-enlightenment founding is the source of most all of our problems as a country. capitalism has taken root in america in a way more malicious and all-consuming than in any other culture, because it was there at the beginning of our country and all of our social norms have grown out of it. many other cultures have existed long before capitalism and though it has modified their culture, it has not altogether become it. because america was founded on capitalism, we have no cultural identity outside of it. america is, itself, capitalism. that is precisely why america is experiencing all of the best and worst parts of capitalism at their most extreme. it is why, as I mentioned previously, we are perhaps the most divisive and competitive society in the modern world, and probably in history. we are the richest and most powerful country but we have the largest wealth gap and incarceration rate, among many other extremes.

all of this is to say that the rise of Trump and fascism in this country has been a long time coming, and unmistakably inevitable. to defeat it we will have to break america down to its fundamentals, throw out everything that is unethical and unjust, and rebuild our entire society from there. this is radical and hard to imagine, it will also be very difficult to execute, but I strongly believe that much of our societal systems just cannot be reformed, they must be thrown out and replaced.

the capitol riots were inexcusable and sickening but decidedly inevitable. this has been steadily building for america's entire existence. I think it will get worse before it gets better, as there are already plans for bigger and more numerous protests across the country in the following weeks. that said, I feel hopeful as I see the anti-fascist movement grow in the wake of fascism, I am hopeful as I see many people being radicalized and awakened to the realities of this country's failings. I don't know how exactly we will even begin to rid ourselves of the biases, prejudices, and downright hatred that plagues our country. I don't know how we will relate on an individual level to those with such deeply-ingrained hate in their hearts. I don't know how we will change our systems of government and economy to reflect new cultural values that we begin to build together. I am not sure what the future will hold. I do believe, however, that we will triumph over this moment and that the future will be better. I think that the only way to radically change and unite so many vastly different people and remove the blinders from their eyes is through a terrible, historic awakening like the one we are having now. the situation itself is awful, but I am hopeful that out of this mess we become a nation more committed to justice and to some of the ideals which we have falsely claimed to be emulating for our entire history.

so yes, I am worried about the next few weeks, months, and even years. there is no end to the pursuit of a just society, and I think every informed citizen is always a bit apprehensive about certain aspects of their culture. there will always be problems to combat and injustices to rectify, but I think that we will soon be moving to a better place, that we will remember these moments and say, "never again". I am hopeful, despite seeing some of the worst of humanity in recent days, that these atrocities will bring positive change.

I know that was long and instead of discussing issues about the capitol, or even just current political issues, I expanded the scope considerably and dragged in a lot of things from history and grander sociopolitical theories. still, I think it is hard to talk about the insurrection attempt without talking about a lot more. thank you for reading my takes and caring about them. I spend a lot of time thinking about these things, and it feels nice to share them with someone other than my annoyed professors who want me to shut up so they can finish the lecture and stick to their semester schedule.

I hope you're well and that you're staying safe and healthy. are you in school now too? have you or your family had the virus? thank you for coming to talk to me, I always enjoy it. I'll talk to you again soon💞

#pen pal

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bluem0use · 4 years

Text

It's about time I introduced you to the cast of The Crackin'-Up Studios. Don't worry. You'll be seeing them again, especially in the mini-comics!

**In order from top to bottom, left to right**

Billie Bob Willie-Nillie Black Sheep: The overall face of The Crackin'-Up Studios itself. She is the ring leader to the whole circus. The pilot to all the flight attendance. The manager to a corporate office. You get the whole idea. She's one poppin' fire-cracker (A.K.A. has a short temper) that's all for the business, but doesn't mind getting silly from time to time. On screen, she is the definition of unpredictable and crazy, fun and silly. She's a gun happy country gal that started off small and came out big with her talents for making people laugh. She worked hard to get her way to the top. And all of it has obviously paid off. If someone was to use words to describe her, it would be fun, loving, friendly, brave, courageous, generous, the list could go on and on. This gun-loving little lady, no matter where she goes, always somehow seems to change people's lives. And for the better.

Poochie Pooh Poodle: Billie's partner-in-crime. Her bestest friend since her younger years. Her ride or die buddy. Poochie is the main co-star to the series, and a serious eye-candy to men. While Billie is featured as the funny, wacky, unpredictable, quirky character on-screen of the trio, Poochie is often featured as the sex-appeal. The sex symbol. The hot mama. She also models as a little side job whenever necessary. She's the sweetest sweetie-pie you will ever meet in your life. However, proceed with caution. When provoked, she's one sassy gal and won't hesitate to give you a mouthful (and probably a gun wound) if you mess with her, or her friends.

Wolfie Blackfang Wolf: What's the three musketeers without a male in the picture? Wolfie may not have known these two women as long as they've known each other, but their his closest family he's ever had since he left the orphanage. He is also the main co-star to the series, accompanied by being the musical genius of the three. Since a young boy, Wolfie has practiced music as not only his hobby, but his life. His alluring ability was able to trap the young black sheep and poodle in a trance on a fateful night in a club where he worked to try and make a living, thus landing him a job and a ticket to materialization through the ladies. From there, he has always acted as the stud of the three, protecting them whenever they needed an extra hand and also charming women with his attractive voice along the way.

Candy Bat: This "monster", this "usually nocturnal creature of the night", this "mysterious shadow" is nothing but a sweet treat in the eyes of many who travel far and wide to Nightwalk Bay to get a taste of his sweet treats at the local candy shop. At least, that's what Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie will tell ya. Famous for his line of business, Candy Bat is a harmless, humble candy man..err..bat that seeks nothing but to fill the mouths of the fortunate with a sweet after-taste. His delicious pastries, frozen desserts, and fizzy drinks aren't the only thing that appeals to the eyes of many. He's also a support character at The Crackin'-Up Studios during the day and a friendly (but hissy, due to his uncontrollable excited hisses whenever he meets someone new and/or is excited) candy shop-keeper at night.

Scratches: Whoa, watch out for that web! There's a BIG spider up there! And his name is none other than Scratches, yet another support cast character for The Crackin'-Up Studios. When in the presence of my six-armed friend, be cautious. Scratches loves the ladies and will go through extreme lengths to entangle you in his web, if he deems you a worthy enough mate. Don't worry fellas, he doesn't swing that way. Though..spider's gotta eat, right? What? Spiders only eat insects? Not this playful, flirtatious one. Note that this spider is dead, and has been ressurrected after a deal made by Ozzan (scroll down to reference Ozzan's bio). Therefore, Scratches likes human flesh too. Dont worry too much though. He's too busy chasing both Poochie and Billie around the studios, trying to declare his love for them. Though...something about a huge demon spider just..turns those two ladies off.

Honey Hyena: As the name implies, this hyena is sweet as honey! Raised on a bee farm, this little lady never expected to end up being a supporting cast character to The Crackin'-Up Studios. That was, until a little Black Sheep mozied on over and decided to offer her the position and the materialization process just like everyone else. She figured the nice lady would need the money boost besides "Milkin' bees all day long" - Billie. Honey loves bees. In fact, on her days off from woking at the studios, that's all she does! Is work, work, work at her long-descended family bee farm, making honey and selling it for some dough (money) as a side job. She is also the motherly figure to all the cartoon ladies on set and often tries to share her knowledge with them in hopes she can help guide them on the right path. I mean, not everyone is perfect, right?

Bon Isabell Bunny: Daughter of a long deceased magician (who was, ironically a white bunny), she has seeked to find more support by becoming a supporting cast character to the TV series. However, though, she wasn't looking to be a supporting character when offered the job by Billie Bob. Bon has a bit of a...strong hatred for Billie Bob. Bon saw how much love and respect the black sheep got, even from her "enemies". So, what does this tempered (its just as bad as Billie's, trust me), quick-to-anger, grumpy gal do? Well, it's like they say, "Kill the sheep, take her wool!". That is...if she could catch her first. Forever caught in this game of cat-and-mouse on screen and off screen, Bon decided to settle into this position for now. Hopefully one day, her magic tricks and traps can pay off and actually earn her a spot in the lead position.

Bon Iseah Bunny: Twin brother to the other Bon Bunny, this bunny seems the complete opposite of his sister. This magic bunny doesn't mind being a supporting cast character, and instead enjoys making others smile with her magic tricks and qurkiness. After all, its what his deceased magician father would have wanted. He admires Billie and everything that she does not only for everyone else, but herself. He just hopes with time, his sister can see that. For now, this calm bunny will just have to play as yin to his sister's yang (A.K.A., trying his best to calm her in her most stressed and ferocious moments).

Molly Cow: Before her rise to fame as another member of The Crackin'-Up Studios crew, Molly Cow, the half-pig half-cow offspring, could not keep a job to save her life! She was lazy, less focused, often slacking or ducking off, and/or giving up before she even set foot in the door! The funny thing is, she wouldn't care, and just go back to living with her parents. Seeing as though Molly's confident and care-free attitude was a necessity to bring on some laughs, all Billie had to do was offer a hand to the voluptuous, intriguing young woman and for some odd reason, this cartoon has managed to keep the job ever since. Side note, if you ask her what her "other" job would be whenever she brings it up, it would be shopping. She is ALL about the fashion!

Malachi (formerly known as "Michael Jamesking"): Yes, Malachi is actually an angel. AND, he is also a featuring asset to the team whenever needed. With the help of one of Veronica's potions (scroll down to reference Veronica's bio), he has the ability to shrink down to size on command. He also is a good line of defense if life-threatening danger ever be-falls the company, for even if he is a judgement angel, he is considered very powerful against a mortal (unless demon weapons are used against him). He is pure, friendly, and kind, however, you must not associate yourself with the presence of evil upon first meetings. He IS a jugement angel after all and will be quick to judge you and shame you for your choice of sin and avoid you like the plague while also be-littleing you. Ironically, the only exception to this treatment is Ozzan (his best friend in all universes) and Bendy (in the head-canon canon universe). Also note, Malachi was never always Malachi. Malachi was once Michael, a regular, normal, working business man who unfortunately got hit by a car on his morning rush to work.

Ozzan: Oh boy. This one's a bad one. If you thought Scratches (scroll up to reference Scratche's bio) was bad, wait until you get a load of this one! This foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, obnoxious, flirtatious pervert is somehow a necessity to The Crackin'-Up Studios. His crude sense of humor and anctics tend to get a good laugh out of adults more than oblivious children. He will flirt with anything, sleep with anything, hell even risk catching some sort of SEXUAL DISEASE for anything that has legs. This man lives, breathes, and embraces everything that is bad at every cost, every time. Its possibly why he was so close to Lucifer (the Devil) back when he was in Hell. Though, take caution. If you piss him off (which isn't really hard to do), he WILL tear you to bits and peices with his bare fists. Also, beware of tentacles and trendils ladies. He has them everywhere and can use them not only in battle, but also for...other things. So beware and..make sure your doors are locked.

Veronica Bat: Born "Daddy's Little Monster", Veronica is the daughter of Candy Bat and Valentine Naxxremis (formerly Bat)(She will be referenced in the next ref). For most of her life, she has lived with her mother and embraced her witch-hood, which usually ends up with the little gloom and doom bookworm getting bullied for being a "half-breed". However, her luck gets turned around when she meets Billie Bob (like a lot of these people's do) who helps instill in her to be happy to be herself and to screw what everyone else says..and to also get back at them at all costs. She looks up to Billie and Poochie as her "Aunties", though, has trouble getting along with her father. She was raised to believe she had left her and her mother and never really loved them. Which, is obviously not true, but, she has a hard time believing that. Once welcomed to the cast, Veronica is a huge hit with the goth little teen girls who aspire to be like her: beautiful and mysterious. Let's just hope she gets he powers under control first, for she struggles with that a great deal on screen for comical effect and off screen.

Patricia Greene Pig: (A/N: She probably has had the MOST change out of all of them, so beware) Patricia is Delloris's (scroll down for Delloris's bio) bestest friend since childhood. Snobby, rude, sassy, class. All of these combined makes her perfect for scenes where she's the girl that thinks she's too good for the male trying to win her heart. Likes are, their only trying to "woo" it for her money. Oh, did I mention she's very wealthy? Her and Delloris aren't friends for nothing. You have to have some sort of status when it comes to getting in goods with the mayor's one and only daughter. Also note that Patricia is an EXTREME germo-phobe and will pelt you down with germ-x if you've so much as TOUCHED an un-sanitized door knob.

Hank Kat: Hank Kat has been an aspired musician since he was a little boy. He has really known the struggles of what it's like to be broke from both of his poor parents. So, as a way to raise some money, he went out on the streets and played his father's old rusty trumphet for some pocket change. Crowds were so awed at his talent, before long, Hank was hitting the clubs to try and win over some cash to take care of his parents once he became of age. Similar to Wolfie, Poochie had just so happened to stumble upon him. Though they didn't exactly see eye-to-eye due to species war, they were able to put their differences aside the night they had spent together, dancing the night away. As they danced, Poochie would listen to this party-goer's story and become sympathetic for the poor fellow. Thus, she figured his wallet could be fed a little more and thus offered for him to be a support character on the team. With his toe-tappin', feed stompin', hand wavin; jams that he can play on trombone, trumphet, pretty much just about any instrument he could blow into, he would become not only a major asset to the supporting cast, but also the music, both at his day job at the studios and his night job in the clubs.

Puncho: This "unstoppable brick wall" can take a punch and also pack it. After all, they don't call him "Puncho" for nothing! Though he's not much of fan favorite unless it comes to his famous boxing episodes, Puncho is a well-served supporting cast in the crew. He's often seen alongside his partner, Scraps Skunk (scroll down for Scrap's bio), no matter what the situation. He has a temper just like Billie, girl Bon, and Ozzan, however, instead of unleashing it by yelling at coworkers and throwing large objects (Billie), chasing someone down the hall with a chainsaw (Girl Bon), or spewing a bunch of curse words that's enough to make a sailor blush (Ozzan), he lets out his steam in the ring. He is the undefeated champion (if you don't count his and Billie's first brawl in one of her posters) within the boxing ring and anyone who dare wants to challenge him in taking his belt, well. Better be prepared for the pain. Bring a lot of ice.

Scraps Skunk: A timid, shy soul who is pure and good at working the ring as a referee. He plays fair though, he always will support his bestest friend, Puncho no matter what. His often scared, frightened, shaky attitude is welcomed on screen whenever needed. He was often bullied through his childhood and unlike those who have toughed up from it, he only seemed to soften. Hell, even Billie has chewed him out for his overly push-over nature. Though, she gives up. For nothing can change this poor man's soft heart and kind ways.

Wallis Moose: What else to say about this guy besides him obviously being a horrible detective? After his first appearance as one in one of Billie's episodes, Wallis fell in love with the idea of being one and even off screen, tries to solve "mysteries" wherever he is needed. However, he always slips up short and makes himself to be a fool. How did he even earn a spot on the team? Well, to put it simple, Wallis is a stone cold, hard drunk. He drinks and drinks and drinks, and when he's hiccuping and stumbling all over the place, Billie couldn't help but find it amusing the first time they met. After all, the first night they met, they both danced drunkinly through the streets of Nightwalk Bay, where they somehow met. As kooky as it sounds, it actually happened. Believe me.

Chico Georgina Chick: This once poor broken flapper was able to leave her broken past of having to prostitute herself on the streets and go some nights starving behind. Coincidentally, Chico was given another opportunity at a better life by Hank Kat (scroll up for Hank's bio), who happened to run into her at one of the clubs and show her a much better life than what she was living by offering her a position at the studios and materialization through the machine. Now a re-born, classy lady, this former flapper...heh...well, let's be honest. Girl loves to party and dance like there's none tomorrow, is ready to bring all the club's joy and bump to the table on screen. Hank is often seen by her side, playing away on his trumphet while she dances on top of a table. Nothing too promiscuous or provocitive. Want to keep the adult's attention but not as much. She's known as the party girl out of the group and also knows a thing or two about fashion. Also, keep her as FAR away from Molly (scroll up for Molly's bio) as possible..they fight a lot.

Delloris Acorn: Delloris is the beloved daughter of the mayor of Toon City, within the alternate world where cartoons "live". Her mother died giving childbirth and though she never knew her mother. She was always expected to act lady-like and proper, is why she carries herself that way. Though, the day Billie met Delloris and her father and was allowed to spend the day with her, Billie turned her upside down and all around. To the point Delloris came home, dress cut into a tank-top, short short overalls, knee-high socks, messy hair, and busted shoes. Billie's excuse was they were pig wrestling (no pun intended Patricia). Her father was awfully upset and almost demanded Billie to be arrested, however, Billie's sly deal to offer Delloris a spot at the studios was the only thing that saved her from some jail time. Now, while away from her rich and perfect life as the mayor's "little princess", she's allowed to get down and dirty. Especially on screen where down and dirty are necessary for some laughs.

Mad Mouse (also known as "Maddison K Mouse"): Why is this mouse so quiet and mysterious? Why does he never speak or even take off his goggles? Wait, is this mouse even a "he" at all? Well, yes and no. To put a long story short, back in these days and times of the early 1900s, women weren't taken seriously. Even toon women. Born a genius, the only way to get people to notice her freakishly large brain talent is to disguise herself as a man and as to go as "Mad Mouse" instead of "Maddison Mouse". However, her little secret couldn't be kept that long, for an incident in her labs caused her to lose part of her disguise and have to come clean to Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie. It was through them who helped her realize that, no matter who you are, your voice deserved to be heard no matter what. From that point on, this support cast member decided to cease wearing the disguse and be her actual self. Though, I wouldn't mess with this quiet little genius. She's a little...mad (crazy), as the legends and cartoons portray her as.

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deliciousscaloppine · 4 years

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Unclean Realm

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Little short story about Meng Yao becoming Nie Huaisang’s attendant in their childhood and some of their adventures as they grow up. Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his adulthood are entering a relationship and Huaisang decides to give up feelings and go into politics. Because first love hurts. (Huaisang at some point flings porn slang to Meng Yao to vex him so mentions of a jade ass, i guess.)

The sound of the qin resounded happily in the courtyard. Meng Yao was entertaining again a certain guest. On this beautiful moonlit night, the heat had given way to a beautiful breeze that smelled of some distant rain. Huaisang was drifting in and out of sleep in some very small agony. Not having Meng Yao in his rooms was a surprising cause of anxiety.

Ever since he was a child his overactive imagination that urged him to constant distraction had been somewhat checked and focused by Meng Yao's more disciplined character. So it was an unxpected ordeal to have to be plagued by a condition he thought was over. To say that he missed Meng Yao and was a little jealous would be an exaggeration, since he was the one who had the attendant moved away. He was actually missing the things Meng Yao did for him, and those were plenty.

Unfair Meng Yao only needed the littlest nudging to ask a lodging of his own. Or rather pretend to suggest greater freedom to his princely ward, so that he would be offered a handsome room at the wing his brother, the great Chifeng Zun resided.

Musing on their little altercation regarding his recent foray into what Meng Yao considered inappropriate material that made him confuse fiction with reality, Huaisang should have never pronged his devoted attendant by telling him to put his lips on Nie Mingjue's jade ass. Aside from eliciting venomous remarks about his cowardly character that would never utter such things in Nie Mingjue's presence, it also led to Meng Yao storming away permanently.

Suddenly a sour note, followed by several others attacked the nightly summer air. It was as if someone was slaying a cat. Or rather was someone slaying Meng Yao in the middle of his recital? Huaisang who had been cautioned as a child that assassins would always come and get him if he strayed distractedly here and there, flew out of the room. Several other people seemed to have the same idea, and had stuck their heads out of their front doors to look for the offending noise coming from the interior courtyard.

But then the notes were followed by boisterous laughter- which Huaisang recognized immediately as his brother's- followed by Meng Yao's high-pitched and silly supplications.

His brother who hardly ever had reason to laugh, seemed lately to be literally possessed by fits of laughter when he spent time in Meng Yao's room. He laughed not because Meng Yao was a great entertainer, but rather because everything Meng Yao did seemed to him a great source of mirth. Or at least so it sounded from where Huaisang was forced to listen.

Huaisang shuffled across the courtyard thinking of some light-hearted remark that the two could take as admonishment, like “You two are still up so late?” or “You do not sleep like everyone else?” It wasn't so much that he cared about the disturbance, but rather that he would have them know the noble court of the Nie- which he was a part of- was not amused. No, of course he did not want to go and sit with them, and impede Meng Yao's ministrations with his presence.

He approached stealthily from the side, where the rays of the moon would not betray his shade, and saw through a half-drawn curtain that Nie Mingjue was sitting at the guqin and was trying to play. Or rather he was trying to take instruction from Meng Yao who touched his hands with a thousand apologies to position them right on the chords of the qin.

Meng Yao himself was nodding and apologizing and bending his nape so often when Mingjue couldn't make the qin play right that it was a comical sight indeed. Handsome as he was, when he flared his eyes in panic over the possibility of displeasing a senior he made himself a joke. No wonder Nie Mingjue liked to laugh.

The wailing of the abused qin continued miserably through the courtyard, before Meng Yao exhausted by his apologies, sat back and poured himself a drink.

“You see how difficult it is? So don't say anymore that Nie Huaisang has no talent for music.” Meng Yao said.

Huaisang had to wonder if he had been seen, and if that remark was directed at him instead of his brother, but no amount of observation revealed Meng Yao's knowledge of his presence. Which made Huaisang even warier.

“That's different” Nie Mingjue said. “I don't think he ever tried. I have never heard such wailing in all of Qinghe.”

Meng Yao laughed as if it was his turn to be amused and then quickly as if he had offended he stood to serve wine to Mingjue. His brother kept his eyes low on the strings of the qin as he drank. It seemed to Huaisang an image of himself from the future...or the distant past.That same bashful silence had overtaken him, while Meng Yao hot and humid like a flower after rain hovered above him with the wine at hand.

“Thank you” Nie Mingjue said smiling to himself, and Meng Yao settled against him, pouring his own cup, pleased that he had pleased his lord and aiming to give him even greater pleasure.

That kind of scene made his heart twich in pain. It was the greatest agony to have loved someone like Meng Yao. Huaisang wanted to forget it right away. Was it even possible to deaden a feeling for good, to remove it and perhaps salt and preserve it, and to put it somewhere, maybe a glass case from where seeing it he could remind himself the agony it had brought him? Is this agony worth anything in the world?

Then Nie Mingjue turned, and clasped and kissed Meng Yao's face. He kissed it like it was a beautiful picture, or a reflection of the moon on water, or a divine face etched on stone.

Meng Yao's expression tightened in agony as if the kiss had seared him. His chest flared as if he was sobbing, and Nie Mingjue touched his face where it had been kissed, and spoke in his mouth something that to the night went unheard:

“I will never marry. You are my marriage.”

Huaisang shrunk back into the shadows, convinced that he had done everything wrong. From the beginning of time, the constant admonishments were correct, there was nothing he had ever done right.

…...

Huaisang waved his fan around his face. The heat had resumed with new intensity in the day. It was impossible to even linger on the view of sunny places. Outside of the shaded room a few disciples were sweeping the courtyard. He tried to remember where he had seen them before and what cruelty they had done that deserved such punishment.

“Huaisang.” his brother called sternly across him.

It was his turn on the board already. His brother was not just winning, he was slowly taking up all of the board.

“Ah! I was not paying attention!”

“That's because your head is completely empty.” Nie Mingjue said and assumed an even more austere look of superiority.

“Brother, you are too harsh. I was not paying attention, because I had a serious matter on my mind.”

“Serious matter.” his brother scoffed and looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

As if Huaisang's mind is unable to trap serious thoughts, like it can trap beautiful songbirds.

“I was thinking of Meng Yao.” he suddenly says.

At that Nie Mingjue's face softens. As if he has heard his favorite name. But as soon as he is aware of it, he serves him an even meaner glare.

“Did you not send him away to be by yourself?”

“And I have not regretted it! I enjoy my time unsupervised...It's something else that bothers me.”

Nie Mingjue crosses his arms patiently and fixes his eyes upon him. It's difficult to have to see his brother like that, afraid that he will hear something displeasing about his favorite person in the world.

“Is not Meng Yao the son of Jin Guangshan...” Huaisang asks as if to make sure. “If he is ever invited back to his clan and there is talk of mistreatment on our part” he says scratching his head. “...Are not the Jin very sensitive on matters of prestige? Are you sure we are not going to face some trouble with him?”

“Who have you heard talk of mistreatment?” his brother asks, his frown deepening with sudden concern.

“It's not who talks, a lot of people talk. A-Yao is a good and noble boy...but perhaps we use him too frivolously and too often.” Huaisang says playing with his fan. “Brother, you should not do things he could hold against you. His fortune might change in the future and we would be embarassed...That's my opinion.”

That's what Huaisang says and makes his move on the board.

#the untamed #nie huaisang #meng yao #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #the untamed fic #unclean realm fic #cql #the qinghe boys

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paellaplease · 5 years

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Firebird | Chap.2

Summary: 105 years before the hero’s resurrection, a young woman trained under ancient knowledge once forgotten- enchants her very first weapon. For the sake of research and in search of a warrior worthy to wield it, she is sent to Rito Village, immediately clashing with the local archer, Revali, a bird too prideful for his own good.

Surviving deadly road-trips, sudden drops, and a hand bearing a Sheikah rune with a penchant for catching fire, she slowly begins to uncover the secrets behind who she once was and the old evil that lies asleep in the mountains beyond.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 2: The Chief

Good news and bad news. Fate plots her course and laughs in her face.

The enchanted dagger hung heavy from inside its decorative scabbard as she ascended the multiple wooden steps taking her near the summit of Rito Village. Along with her backpack full of notes, books and supplies, she was also unnecessarily armed to the teeth, by her standards at least.

Teacher carries twice this many weapons to a village picnic.

Maiya felt silly, listening to the dagger at her hip clank noisily alongside the sound of her other sheathed throwing knives. She felt more like a bag of metal than a mysterious enchanter from a land far away. The thought made her snort.

The young woman adjusted her now shoulder length hair, tucking it underneath her newly acquired bandana. She quietly mourned for its comforting weight when it used to hang long and healthy at her waist. Brushing it out in the morning was one of her few indulgences, and now with it gone she felt an uncomfortable gap in her usual routine.

The bandana was yellow and scratchy, but it was cheap and did the job in hiding her lopsided haircut. This is your punishment for not paying attention to your surroundings.

Maiya shrugged, clicking her tongue and clutching the railing at her side with a bit more force than necessary. There were more important things to worry about.

It’s just hair.

Humming a cheerful old folk-song, she attempted to summon her final dredges of courage as the number of stairs left began to dwindle. She was nearing the top and getting closer to the Rito Chieftain’s office.

As much as she hated to admit it, the near second brush with death had rattled her enough to have cost her sleep the night before. And she found herself more of a nervous wreck this lovely morning than she usually was. Comfy and plush the bed may have been at the Rito Stable, she spent the evening tossing and turning, plagued by night terrors.

For a moment, she thought it was the same nightmare she usually saw. Skeletons on horseback, metal clashing on metal. Voices, so many voices, calling out for her to run .

However this time instead of a sword plunging into her gut as she turned away, it was an arrow, coated in blue feathers, soaring straight and true towards her, piercing her skull’s soft flesh just between her eyes.

Maiya had awoken early that morning, finding it difficult to return to sleep. She packed her things and tipped the stablemaster, setting out for the village which blurred the lines between earth and sky, and reaching the connecting bridge by early afternoon.

Anxiously, she flexed her gloved left hand, willing the aching buzz of energy emanating from the rune underneath to recede. The soft glow seemed bluer, it’s shine reminding her of the Rito she had met the day before.

Not all travellers that passed by the forge at Akkala were sunshine and rainbows. Some were quite icy, or downright uncivil, her mentor not wasting any time to throw them out should they had overstayed their welcome.

However…him. What was his name again? That Rito. He was rude, callous, and absolutely full of it. Which made his willingness to help her all the more suspicious and confusing.

Maiya half expected the oversized bird to lead her towards a bokoblin camp in revenge to her interrupting his target practice. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find that his directions were indeed correct, and that she found herself back onto the Highway within hours instead of days.

What a weird guy.

At her thoughts, her hand glowed brighter. Surprisingly, the usual accompanying pain felt dulled. Almost…non-existent.

She glared at her left hand, pulsing like a blue beacon underneath her glove. Hush , she thought.

Another worrying memory gnawed at her brain as she climbed the final steps, clutching the railing to catch her breath. Back there, faced with the threat of imminent death, the rune on her hand reacted accordingly, reaching out to neutralize whatever threat was heading towards its host.

In hindsight, the protective fire wouldn’t have made it anyway, and the arrow would have killed her instantly. But the memory of a glowing blue light and the confusion she felt at a heavily feathered something running towards her still remained.

Maiya grimaced, looking out at the bright, blue sky to her right. ‘Helpful’ as the Rito archer may have been, she wonders how friendly he would be if he finds out she nearly burnt him to a crisp. Good riddance. I hope we never cross paths again.

Three more steps, two, then one. She reached the entrance of the Chieftain’s office. What was a light breeze from below was now a strong gust of wind at the summit, playing with the wisps of hair that had escaped her bandana and making her clutch her brown traveler’s coat tighter as she suppressed a violent shiver.

The outside of the hut was decorated with colourful silks and cloth, all printed with a white symbol of an oddly shaped half-circle with two wing-like geometric shapes fanning out from either side. She recognised it from her history classes with her mentor, the sacred Rito sigil. An emblem that had survived centuries of history.

Along with the banners, shells and chimes were strung up and hung along sections of the hut. They danced merrily in the wind, creating soft music which worked well in reducing some of her nervous panic. She wondered where they came from, the shells in particular, some looked to be from mostly molluscs.

Someone to her left just cleared their throat.

“Uh…Miss? Are you alright?”

Maiya blinked, shaking her head and turning to whoever just spoke.

It was a Rito, clad in brown leather armour. He had piercing blue eyes, which stood out like two bright stars against the coal black of his plumage. The partisan spear gripped in his right wing, and the bright red sash with the Rito emblem secured neatly to his waist indicated that he was probably some sort of guard.

One second passed. Then another.

Oh dear.

“I was staring off into space again wasn’t I?”

Surprisingly, a small, shy smile graced the guard’s severe stony face. “Perhaps,” he said, shrugging awkwardly. “You looked like you were trying very hard to set that yellow cloth on fire with your mind.”

Maiya let out a shaky laugh. Yikes, bit too close to home, birdie.

“Sorry,” she said. Rocking back on her heels and scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. “Anxious habit, I guess I’m a bit nervous to meet your chieftain…”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” The guard smiled kindly. “Chief Kamori is a wise and just leader. He has been dedicating himself to our village since I was a chick."

He quickly surveyed her appearance. Though his gaze was purely calculating, Maiya still felt a tad self-conscious as his eyes took in her worn coat and old leathers. The guard seemed to understand where some of her stress was coming from, beak quirking into a serene smile. "He worries little about formalities, Hylian guest, so do not feel concerned over not packing your finest silks and messing up your curtsey,” he winked good-naturedly.

Thank Hylia .

The guard turned his head towards the Chieftain’s hut, “I’ve watched him govern our great village for many years now. He treats all that meet him with respect and honesty.” The Rito then stood to attention, stamping his staff on the ground and making Maiya jump.

“We only ask that you do the same.”

Filled with new understanding, Maiya’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s a reasonable request to ask for,” she smiled.

She stepped forward to the cloth door, “Oh! By the way,” she said. “My name is Maiya, what’s yours?"

"Talako,” he said. “Protector of the Chief and Guardian to the peoples of Rito Village."

"Thank you Talako, hope to see you around I guess?”

“I hope so too, Miss Maiya."

And with that, she pulled the curtains back and stepped inside.

The Chieftain’s office was small and humble. Minimally decorated save for the large oak table which sat at the corner of the room. Glass lamps strung with carefully woven rope hung from the high ceiling, swinging lightly in the breeze.

Tall windows surrounded her from all sides, all kept wide open as the cool Tabantha air danced and whistled through the room, carrying the sweet scent of flowers and fruit. Beyond was a stunning view of the snowy Hebra mountainside, with rolling hills and white capped peaks which disappeared into the clouds.

Finally, in the middle of the room sat the Chieftain.

The Chief’s eyes were kind. His right eye was a dark shade of green, the same colour of grass after rain in the lush fields of her hometown. It was relatively clear, unharmed, contrasting with the milky white of his left eye, a long, old scar running jagged across it.

He was a rather large Rito, widely built and towering over her by a fair margin. His brown feathers were fading to grey in his old age, with the ones that grew under his beak decorated with silver plates and beads, braided to resemble a three pointed beard.

She’d never met a Chief before. Maiya didn’t know what she was expecting. Someone grander maybe? A throne instead of a rocking chair? But a part of her felt relieved. This Chief looked understanding, fair. He was dressed conservatively in simple cream clothes, the only splash of colour being a green scarf printed with the Rito emblem tied neatly around his neck.

Maiya’s eyes continued to roam the room, noticing the tapestry that hung at the back wall. Shells and feathers were woven into the fabric, with splashes of beautiful colour laced into its intricate weaving and embroidery.

It depicted a surprisingly wingless Rito, golden light surrounding them like a halo. They were dressed in a red and gold robe, which fanned out dramatically across the tapestry like a crashing wave. Flying down from the heavens to meet the flightless bird was a giant serpent like dragon. Its scales were the colour of wildfire, with outstretched claws that gripped and curled around a snow-white mountain. The Rito was reaching an arm up, as if to grab the bright star which rested in the beast’s gaping maw.

It was beautiful.

The Chieftain held out a wing, "Hoo! Hello!” he gestured for her to step further into the room. “Come in, let me have a better look at you! These eyes aren’t the same as they used to be, more a bat than a hawk unfortunately.”

The leader of the Rito squinted his good eye at her as she approached, widening as she stepped into the light. The expression he had on his face was puzzling. Open, almost trusting. As if he recognised the person standing before him now. Which would be impossible as this was their first meeting.

Stop overthinking.

“Hoo,” he smiled, “Are you the young Maiya that Nisandrey has been telling me so much about?”

That caught her off-guard. It was rare that she ever heard her mentor’s name spoken out loud. Let alone so casually by someone she’s never met.

“Yes…that’s me. Do you know my Teacher well?”

“Hmm,” the Chieftain said, turning his head to the stack of letters on the oak table. One of them was still rolled open, her mentor’s signature in the bottom in her favourite red ink.

“She and I have been friends for a very long time, young one.” He breathed, voice as light as the wind around them. “She says that you are progressing well in your studies.”

Maiya felt her ears go red, biting her tongue and clasping her hands behind her back to stop her from yelling out and fist pumping in the air. HOLY SHIT! YES! Yeah! Woohoo-

Instead.

She bowed her head bashfully. “Thank you, Chieftain. That is good to hear, especially coming from her."

The wise Rito chuckled, "No need to be so humble, young Maiya.” He then began to sit up slowly, minding his back as his talons touched the floor. “Where are my manners? I am Chief Kamori of the Rito Village. But you may just call me Kamori if you wish."

He walked to the side of the room, pulling a chair towards his and gesturing to her with an open wing to take a seat. "It has been a long time since an Enchanter had stepped foot on this village.” She thanked him and sat gently into the plush chair. Rito furniture, there’s just nothing else like it!

“Hardly an Enchanter,” Maiya said, relieving her shoulders from the weight of her travel pack. “I was granted the title just a moment before I left.”

Kamori smiled, eyes far away. “Ancient tales say that to be called an Enchanter means to have endured years of hard-work and intense study.” Sadness seemed to mingle with his voice as he continued. “Regardless of when it was made official, you are what you are now, do not belittle the efforts which have brought you to this point.”

She gazed down at her left hand, wondering to what extent her mentor revealed to Kamori of her abilities. Enchanting was a science as old as ancient history, but the methods she used were rather unconventional. Moreso magical even- an opinion Teacher would never agree with. If she focused hard enough, she could feel the active hum of energy running through the veins and nerves underneath the lines of her scar. The rune on her hand made everything easier, but the pain and fatigue that followed almost always trumped the allowances.

Many evenings she wondered if it was truly her skill and knowledge aiding her, or the rune acting as a permanent crutch. She was happy with her accomplishment, she wouldn’t deny that, but making a point to constantly take credit felt wrong somehow. Like she was cheating.

Maiya’s lips curved, bitter. Pride was never her forte anyway.

A short pause settled between her and the Chief when she finally remembered why she was here in the first place. Business now, self-deprecating internal rant later. Quickly, she reached down to the enchanted dagger at her side, unbuckling the scabbard and presenting it to the Rito Chieftain. “It will not harm anyone while sheathed, but please still be careful not to touch it,” she said.

“There’s a defect I still need to work through. From what I gathered, the elemental energy infused within it is still tied to mine. Teacher believes the ancient masters met this issue as well in the beginning stages.” She frowned, shaking her head. Don’t think he would appreciate a lecture . “The dagger burns all except for me, a powerful enchanter, and…"

“The warrior you deem worthy to wield it,” Kamori finished, smiling knowingly.

Maiya’s shoulders dropped. There it is. “Yes,” she breathed. “And you probably know that’s the reason why I am here.”

“Hooo, you are correct child. Dear Nisandrey…”

Maiya shivered. Such an endearing term before such a terrifying woman’s name was so unnatural.

“…has informed me of the details. You are very lucky, we have already named the village’s most skilled archer and fighter a few years ago. During the time, Nisandrey was invited to survey our new line of lightweight armour and weaponry, but unfortunately she had to decline due to previously scheduled…appointments.” The way his voice rose and dipped at the word appointments in a rough imitation of her mentor’s own accent made her laugh in surprise. Kamori sat back in his rocking chair, pleased.

"I warn you enchanter, the Rito warrior is skilled, but young. He can be quite vocal of his achievements and I’ve been told this can be slightly off-putting at times,” He paused, deliberating over how he should salvage her opinion of their chosen after his quick admission. “However, he is inherently good of heart and extremely diligent. I’m sure you will both find a way to get along.”

A bell chimed in the distance, accompanied by the sound of flapping wings.

"Hoo! I believe that is him now.”

Maiya stood from her seat, sheathing the dagger and turning to face the mysterious Rito that had just entered the room.

“Welcome back home, Revali, Pride of the Rito.”

Growing up, Maiya never really had much in the way of an extended family, or friends rather outside from the other smiths who frequented the workshop.

Hence, she can’t say she’s ever had the honour of experiencing the specific, delicious concoction of embarrassment, anger, and surprise from being on the other end of a prank or practical joke. And for many years, she was happy to keep it that way. Till now.

This is a joke right.

Her eyes were wide. Scanning the newcomer in disbelief.

Jade anklets, blue feathers, a familiar scowling beak.

Haha…

I’m in danger.

The chair behind her let out a loud screech , and she belatedly realised that she was unconsciously backing away and towards the nearest exit, which in this case was a window opening up to an at least 30 story drop.

She could feel her heart galloping in her ears.

To make matters worse, in response to her panic, the rune underneath her glove started to glow once more, sizzling the leather. A trail of black smoke rose from the ruined material, making her predicament obvious even as she tried to hide her hand behind her back.

Across the room, the Rito known as Revali stood, royal blue feathers ruffling as he slowly began to process who exactly he was looking at.

“What are you doing here?”

Maiya raised her smoking hand and waved awkwardly, “Uh…hello again.”

'Idiot! You big dumbass! What the hell was that?’

I don’t know I panicked!

“Hooo,” Kamori smiled, oblivious to the heavy cloud of animosity that now hovered over the two. “It seems you both already know each other. Excellent.”

#revali #botw #breath of the wild #revali x oc #loz botw #legend of zelda #botw fanfiction #revali botw #rito #rito botw #botw fic #fanfiction #writing #enemies to friends to lovers #paellaplease #firebird botw #maiya botw

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aliceslantern · 5 years

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Beyond this Existence: Counterpoint, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 3

Summary: After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

He spent another night half-awake, curled under the old covers of his bed. As much as Ienzo tried to rest, and calm himself, his mind would not stop whirring. He could not help but think about Demyx’s panic attack in relation to his own anxiety. To know he was not alone was a comfort, but a cold one, at that. Demyx did not shield his emotions or thoughts the way the others did, and while Zexion had found this grating, Ienzo did not. He was growing tired of the facades, he realized.

When dawn finally came he went through his usual routine of bathing and dressing, and sat to eat. Normally during his morning meals he tried to brush up on his studies, because the last frantic weeks of Zexion’s life in the castle had left him too busy drawing up tactics and manipulating Riku. He was actually reading a rather fascinating text on the neuroscience behind autism, and as Ienzo had long suspected he was on some part of the spectrum, it helped him understand himself better.

This morning was different. Instead, he checked the posts on the gummiphone. Originally he’d intended the photo posting program to focus as a way to share data and reconnaissance, but quickly it had been claimed by scenic photos, silly self-portraits, and inexplicably (though, he had to admit, compellingly) photos of food. There hadn’t been new posts in a long time, so he checked them.

Little Chef’s food. A picture of Xion and Naminé by the ocean in Destiny Islands. Terra and Ven sparring playfully. Aqua relaxing with a spellcasting book. (Ienzo did miss magic dearly.)

Sora, with a young woman with an incredible amount of blonde hair. Sora, posing with a lucky emblem. An unflattering photo of Donald. Goofy and Sora flexing their muscles with Hercules. Sora, with his arm around Kairi, and the caption, keybuddies! So proud of her for completing her training.

Looking at the posts was no longer so appealing. Ienzo again felt that ache in his chest, and found himself blinking a little too rapidly. This was grief, he realized, at least a shade of it. He hadn’t let himself fully process what Sora’s disappearance and Kairi’s death meant. He’d enjoyed helping Sora, and the others. And while they weren't friends, exactly, it was hard not to feel something about such a bright light being extinguished.

Aeleus entered the kitchen. “Ienzo,” he said by way of greeting.

Ienzo put his gummiphone away. “Aeleus. Good morning.”

He got himself some tea and sat across from Ienzo at the small table. “Things have settled in town,” Aeleus said.

Of all his bonds with the other apprentices, his relationship with Aeleus had perhaps changed the least. They’d remained close in the Organization, especially when Zexion was still small. Lexaeus had often accompanied him on missions, defending him before he was powerful and strong enough to go out on his own. “It has, hasn’t it?”

“We scarcely seem to need to keep a patrol. Nobody comes near. Heartless, neither.”

“Perhaps you can get on with your research.”

Aeleus shook his head. “My time with that has passed.”

“In a way, I envy you. But I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You’re resourceful. You’d find something.”

“...I suppose.” He traced the rim of his mug with a finger.

“Something is on your mind,” Aeleus said.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Ienzo said. “I must be doing a poor job of controlling my expression. I couldn’t help but think of Sora. And his poor, poor friend Kairi.”

“Xehanort’s death had a price.”

“An incredibly expensive one,” Ienzo said sourly. “All this chaos for one man--and it’s not even over.”

“Such is the way, when you tie yourself so heavily to fate.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” Ienzo said. “I’m surprised you do.”

Aeleus shrugged. “After all I’ve seen? It’s hard not to believe.”

“...Things have come together a little too neatly,” Ienzo conceded. “That’s the power of the will. As Ansem would say.” He stood. “I need to go to the library before I continue my work. I’ll see you later, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” Aeleus said.

The various libraries in the castle had always been refuges for Ienzo, but the main library was especially of note, with the massive collections from other worlds, as well as ancient artifacts from Radiant Garden’s own history. Most seemed to have survived the fall, in their sturdy shadow cases. The chairs here were also the most comfortable, and this library had the most light. It seemed to be least hit by the overall decay of the castle, though everything needed a good cleaning. As he picked up titles he thought might be helpful, he wiped his dusty palms on his jacket, and it became quite dingy.

To his surprise, as he passed the history section on the way to the lab, he saw Demyx feverishly scanning the titles. “What is it you’re looking for in here?” he asked.

Demyx looked up suddenly, like he was coming out of a daydream. “I was trying to find something about the age of fairy tales. I want to know more about that time.”

Ienzo frowned. He’d figured that Demyx would have been after music theory or something cultural, not that. “That sort of thing is oral history,” he said. “There are very, very few printed volumes that survive from that time. Ansem may be a collector of rare books, but even he could never get his hands on something like that. Why is it you ask?” Ienzo himself knew very little aside from the old stories everyone had been told as a child. Of course he was aware that some of these legends had played into Xehanort’s plan, but if that were the case, why on earth was Demyx looking into it? His eyes were still very much teal, no trace of gold. Ienzo hadn’t had any reason to distrust him before now. He realized he didn’t want to be wary of Demyx.

He laughed a little. “I was just bored, is all. Wanted to know more about what I just got myself out of.”

He nodded. That much made sense. “It’s unfortunate, but a lot of history from that time is just… lost and shadowed in legend. Perhaps that’s why Xehanort was trying to recreate the Keyblade war. Perhaps he wanted to understand it for himself.”

“Maybe,” he said. He looked disappointed.

Ienzo shifted the books in his arms slightly. “Ansem might know more. He studied quite a bit of mythology when he began his experiments. I could ask him for you. I admit, I’ve never seen you become intellectually involved in anything.”

A hint of pink crept into his cheeks. “I just want to know.”

Ienzo frowned. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m just…” Demyx exhaled. “Trying to figure things out. And I have no idea where to start. I don’t even have my sitar. I don’t really have much of anything. And I’m not meant to be here.”

Ienzo blinked. He couldn’t help but feel a tad suspicious. “Not… meant…?”

“Face it. I’m just here because you are all too nice to get rid of me. None of you even like me. I don’t share a past with you, and I’m not a scientist.” An injured edge crept into Demyx’s voice, but Ienzo couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. So that was the matter, not some… plan that got derailed. How paranoid of him to even think that.

“Do you really judge your own worth using others’ opinions?” He asked. He could recall--quite vividly--times he had overheard people telling Demyx off, the harshness of their voices. Zexion had occasionally been part of it too, though more subtly. His backhanded comments has always seemed to roll off of Demyx. There were too many to count, really. And considering Demyx’d also joined the Organization in his formative years, of course that was having an effect on his psyche.

He looked down. “Of course I do. How can you not?”

Ienzo couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The feeling sat oddly in his breast. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you haven’t felt welcome.”

His eyes were glassy. He was more upset than Ienzo had thought. He didn’t know how to comfort him and started to feel nervous. It would not be good for one of them to be unstable. “I have nowhere else to go,” Demyx said, and then, evasively, “I didn’t mean to dump this on you.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Ienzo said quickly.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie. I’m not your problem.” He tried to smile, and Ienzo could see how much energy it took. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

Ienzo again watched him walk away, unable to find anything of value to say to fix it. He wanted so badly to be a good person, but how could he do so when he couldn’t even provide anyone else with the slightest comfort? He held his books still tighter. Maybe there was something he could do.

He did not go immediately to the lab. He went, instead, back to Ansem’s quarters and knocked.

“Come in,” Ansem said. He was at his writing desk, composing what seemed to be a letter. “Oh, hello, Ienzo. What is it you’ve got there?”

“Books irrelevant to the matter at hand,” he said. “Can you give me a general summary of what you know of the age of fairy tales?”

He set down his pen. “Of course I can, but why do you ask? Do you think this could help with Sora?”

“Perhaps, but also… well, Demyx asked me, and I became aware of the gaps in my own knowledge.” He set down the books he had and moved closer to Ansem. He was losing strength; even carrying those few volumes, his arms felt tight.

“I wonder why,” Ansem said, with an edge of suspicion.

“I was a little dubious too, but I do not think there’s anything uncouth about it. To be fair, Xehanort did rely heavily on legends.”

“Yes, that’s right. No doubt the resonances of being a vessel have left him shaken. I’m afraid I don’t have any texts, but I do have a few volumes of fairy tales themselves in the study. You’re free to take a look, but be careful with them. They’re quite old.”

“Yes, Master. I know. Thank you.”

“And let me know if you need my assistance in the lab. I’ve been catching up on my letter writing, but I could use a break.” He smiled kindly.

“Yes. Of course.”

The study was really just code for yet another library, albeit full of Ansem’s most heavily curated texts, as well as many of the ones he’d written himself. Ienzo scanned over the familiar titles until he found what he was looking for. The children’s books were bound in blue linen with a silver embossing, with clear plastic wrapping to protect them. He sat on the floor and scanned the pages. The memory came unbidden--

Sitting as a little boy in Ansem’s lap in the rocking chair by the window, listening to him read these very same stories in that low, soothing voice, feeling him gently stroke Ienzo’s hair and a sense of everything being alright in the world--

For a moment he had to shut the book and bit down hard on the emotion welling within him. There was no word for it other than bittersweet . He was grown now, and should not want childish things. He wanted Ansem’s respect again, to truly feel it. He wanted to feel as safe and, yes, as loved.

These thoughts are not productive.

He continued to scan through the volumes, but found nothing that satisfied him. They were all fictionalized parables, meant to teach lessons to children about being selfless and not trusting strangers. Nothing about the Keyblade war in these volumes. Was one missing?

Ienzo sighed and began replacing the books. A faint breeze caught a vein of dust, and he coughed, momentarily thrown off balance. It was only for this reason that he found himself looking at the now-empty bottom shelf. A sheaf of papers was lodged between the upper shelf and the bookcase’s back wall. Ienzo gently pulled the shelf forward, cursing his physical weakness. The sheaf fell with a faint crinkle. He pulled it out and hastily replaced the children’s books.

How peculiar.

The paper was clearly very, very old; the only reason it hadn’t deteriorated entirely was because it was a sort of linen hybrid. The text on the title page was not written in his language, but runes that predated the World’s current written alphabet. His breath caught on a little thrill of excitement. Possibly Ansem didn’t even know it was here; it could have been left by one of his predecessors.

This would obviously require translation. He wouldn’t be able to understand it now. Still, Ienzo could not help but crack open the first page, lifting it as delicately as possible.

There was text. A lot of it. But more than that there was music. Staff paper had been hand-penciled in, if the slight wobbles of the otherwise straight lines meant anything. Ienzo knew the gist of reading music--Ansem had taught it to him, aware of how it improved math skills--but this was beyond his comprehension. Notes cluttered the page, swooping in complicated trills.

There were more runes written under all this, functioning as a lyrical line. Ienzo had few characters fully memorized, but one pair caught his eye.

Keyblade.

Another little thrill of excitement went through him. How convenient--how coincidental--it was that the only person in this castle who wasn’t a scientist was a master musician.

He had an idea.

Demyx was in the kitchen, listlessly picking at a bowl of old soup.

Ienzo approached him. “There you are. I was hoping I’d see you around. I asked Ansem about the age of fairy tales. He doesn’t have any texts, but after some digging, I found this. He doesn’t know I took it from his library. He’s been… somewhat unobservant lately.”

Demyx looked at the papers, a puzzled expression on his face. “What is it?”

Despite himself, he was feeling real eagerness to discover what was in this project. It was rare, perhaps one of a kind. “I only saw the first page, so I’m not quite certain. Perhaps we may look at it together. Come to think of it, somebody should create some record of that time. We can’t repeat history a third time.”

“I smell a new project for you,” Demyx said. There was a guarded cautiousness to the way he spoke.

He sat down. “Yes. Perhaps. When I am done helping Ansem.”

“What is Ansem doing?”

Ienzo realized he was referring to the project as Ansem’s, even though it was his idea. He had to stop doing that. “He’s trying to help Sora.”

Demyx flinched a little. Ienzo remembered that it was Sora who took his Nobody down, and felt awkward. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s vanished. He overstretched his power… and disappeared from this world entirely. Ansem is hoping that something in our old research might help the guardians of light find him. I am not so sure. You can only meddle with the forces in this world so much before there are natural, irreversible consequences. The guardians are… naturally quite cut up about it. He and I had formed something of a rapport as well. As much as I wish for him to be whole… I don’t want to give myself false hope.”

Demyx seemed unsure of how to react. “Whoa.”

An understatement. “There’s never a moment wasted in researching,” Ienzo said. “For all I know, there’s some clue in these papers. And I think you can help me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Me? What happened to “I’ve never seen you intellectually interested in anything?””

Now that he was hearing it out loud, he realized that Demyx had heard that phrase as an insult, and he felt bad. Maybe this would make it up to him. “Have a look.” He pushed the score towards him and opened the first age. “While my scientific education has been excellent, admittedly it is somewhat lacking in the arts. I only have the most basic skills when it comes to music theory. This… seems more up your alley.”

Demyx’s eyes widened a little. He touched the papers gently, almost with a sort of reverence. Ienzo noticed with relief that the fear in his eyes had subsided a little. He gestured to the lyrical line.

“They’re ancient runes. I’ve studied them a little. But I recognize the characters for “Keyblade”, and they’re in there,” Ienzo explained.

Demyx kept reading. There was an intensity, a focus in his gaze that Ienzo had never seen before.

“I need an instrument,” he said. “It’s too complex to sing.”

“There’s an old piano in Ansem’s quarters. We can have Aeleus and Dilan move it to an empty study space. I’m sure it’ll need tuning.”

“I can do that.” He nodded, a small smile growing on his face. “I’m in.”

Ienzo couldn’t help but smile back.

#beyond this existence: counterpoint #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #demyx/ienzo #beyond this existence

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cyrelia-j · 6 years

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A Tale of Two Parmaks (or the big write up on my crazy versions)

In thinking of multiverse and character stuff, I thought this would be a good opportunity to familiarize everyone with the two big versions of Parmak that I write. He isn’t super fleshed out in the books, but I think that there’s still somewhat of a consensus on defining character traits both physical and mental/intellectual/emotional that make up the heart of him. I know that in both my primary iterations of him there are some characteristics which diverge sharply from what most people imagine he’d look like/think like/act like. There are a few short things I’ve written where I think he remains “canon” Parmak but those are definitely the minority.

So, without further ado, may I present:

C132 Parmak and C147 Parmak

(Yeah, I totally ripped off Rick and Morty for this)

The idea for those not familiar with the show is that there are various multiverses where alternate versions of the world/characters exist. It’s a pretty common theme in sci fi but I took the universe designation format from that show. Just as a reference, in the show it’s generally accepted that the “Primary Universe” characters are C137 so I definitely will not be using that number :)

C132 Parmak: This Parmak appears in my serious and dark/dramatic stories. I’m working on an ambitious series of backstories for his life in this universe. Right now these start with “If” and are going to continue through [upcoming as of 5/24/18] “The Downward Spiral” and others. Parmak in these stories is intersex- having characteristics of both sexes. In this universe I had envisioned Cardassia as having a detailed spectrum of sexes (Known as the Ba’zan Spectrum) which range from what we would approximate from Cis Male at one end to Cis Female on the other. I won’t get too detailed with that in this post but as a note, Parmak is “X210” which means that his primary body characteristics skew slightly female in appearance (ie the hip to shoulder ratio, slightly more feminine ridges, a bit of a softer voice etc) but as far as biological sex are closer to the center of the two.

The reason that this characteristic and matter of his sex gets such detail is because it’s a critical part of this Parmak’s identity. What I mean is this: I wrote this character to reflect a bit of myself. In the Cardassian records systems and medical systems etc he’s not considered male, he’s defined by this designation. But he considers himself male and refuses to be defined by the sum of his biology. As a trans male I wanted this part of him to be reflective of my own feelings and experience. (Yeah I know, confusing avatar- think of the Cyrelia J pseud like Conchita Wurst) This Parmak has spent his life with different expectations and prejudices being pushed on him because he refuses to call himself anything other than male. He’s rejected from his petition to study medicine before he gains a sponsor, he’s slandered and objectified by people he encounters, and he encounters a lot of pressure to conform. In spite of that he refuses to be anyone other than who he knows himself to be.

This Parmak is from Nokar. He was a physically “abnormal” child in that he is an albino (in the Cardassian sense), he has poor eyesight, and has kyphosis (a spine curvature which can be very minor to a pronounced hump- my cousin was born with this so that’s where the concept had originated from. Scoliosis, that thing they test for in schools is a spine curvature on the other axis). He’s terrified of his own reflection and has no desire to know what he looks like. He’s actually very attractive. His main drive and passion in life is medicine. When he was a teenager there was a plague of a mutated Yarim Fei which struck his village and everyone but him died. He spent months burying those who died while simultaneously trying to cure them with his own limited medical knowledge. He realized later he wasn’t infected because of his mutated genes. This really shaped his life because when he was able to devote himself to medicine he worked tirelessly for a vaccine on that and other diseases.

His passion and unique talent is in pharmacology and chemistry. This gets a bit “too perfect/sue-ish” but I like it so it’s not likely to change here. He’s like a magician/alchemist when it comes to his ability to mix up serums and drug compounds. It’s a highly coveted almost genius ability and one that Tain wants like oxygen. This Parmak was involved sexually with both Tain and Garak. He’s afraid of Garak’s eyes because of Tain’s induced illusion ability. He was soft spoken but fearless and was taught by his foster father Vakem Parmak that the Doctor’s role is to survive at all costs, be unbreakable, and so he was raised from his late teenage years to his mid 40s to withstand poisons and torture of an extreme form. It had only ended when Vakem Parmak died. Shortly after that he was recruited by Enabran Tain (albeit not exactly willingly). It made him arrogant in his abilities until Garak broke him. That combined with his experience in the work camp changed him.

In the present day, he’s kind but pragmatic. He’s aware of his own shortcomings but he still has a “survive at all costs” mentality due to his upbringing. The Parmak family credo which he lives and dies by is “one for a hundred” meaning for every life taken he must save a hundred. He’s unbending in this assessment. He still has his quirky sense of humor, he still refuses to look at himself in the mirror, and he doesn’t understand why people find him attractive as his own self-image is still poor. He has few hobbies because his life is work be it medicine, advocacy, raising a family, or self assigned “missions”. He enjoys reading and gardening but really has to be dragged into leisure because he doesn’t understand it. His life has taught him that life isn’t leisure only survival and work so he’s not very able to relax.

He’s a tireless advocate for the Northern Continents and northern rights and he has far less moral limits than I would imagine canon Parmak to have. He’s willing to kill to save but he works to heal the disenfranchised and protect those who need him most. He also has a warped pain tolerance because of his foster father’s training and enjoys being hurt- he doesn’t ask for it or seek it out, but he was conditioned to have that response when it occurs so that’s been used against him. I guess you could say he’s a bit of a broken Parmak.

Stories featuring C132 Parmak are: “If—“, “The Downward Spiral”, Invictus, and Inside a Dream” so far

If you like your Parmak closer to Julian ethically, more “light” than “dark”, and much less twisted then this isn’t the Parmak for you :)

On the opposite end we have:

C147 Parmak: This Parmak appears in all my humor/crack/lighthearted stories. His sex is irrelevant to the character unlike C132 Parmak though for reference he’s usually male in this iteration unless otherwise stated; so far in every story but “The Power of Three” he’s been cis male. This character borders on being a parody so I would encourage most to take this one with a grain of salt because he’s not meant to be a serious representation of Parmak. A lot of his traits come about because of silly late night conversations or “what if” jokes. The biggest example would be his cock obsession. For me this is more of a running gag because I imagine it to be so far off of real Parmak canon and behavior that it’s just silly. I find all sorts of stupid things amusing.

He had a happy childhood in the North, has living parents, and only moved South to study medicine for the adventure of it. He’s usually near lifelong friends with Garak (as this Parmak appears primarily in AUs) and occasionally it’s a friends with benefits arrangement. He appears as various types of doctors/healers but in the Extraverse he’s a yoga instructor as well. I’ll probably branch out his professions as I write more for him. He likes to wear his signature hair beads (silly fanon thing of mine) and often says outlandish things “unintentionally”.

He has a massive hoarding problem and he loves pop culture. You’ll find his space (car, house, office, etc) full of records, CDs, books, bumper stickers, old bottles, and anything he finds interesting. In some universes this includes a massive sex toy collection This Parmak loves taking pictures and loves music. He comes across as oblivious and spacey. Some of that’s genuine, some of it’s played up a bit because he likes seeing people smile and he likes spreading positivity. He loves yoga and tends to be super flexible and fit (sometimes in teasing contrast to the C147 Garak who’d rather lounge with a cocktail). This Parmak also loves television, Queen, and Columbo. He’s incredibly adventurous and has a devious little smirk. He’s a voyeur and a closet sadist (in a playful sense- he doesn’t enjoy actually hurting people).

He’s a bit of a bad driver, is into conspiracy theories in a big way, and is into alternative medicine and new age ideas. He’s more the “Hippie” part of “Hippie Lizard”. He absolutely loves sex and could be considered shameless but he’s proud of this and infinitely creative in that realm. I might even make him a sex therapist one of these days since I think he’d be good at it. As a side note, his companion C147 Garak is much the same. He loves games and stories and “cute” things though he seems rather unaware that he himself is one of those “cute things”. He likes to wear his sunglasses perched on his head while still wearing his glasses. Fun fact- his sunglasses aren’t prescription and he never actually wears them as sunglasses.

He’s a good listener, emphatic to the max and is comically strong while being pretty slim and unassuming. Sometimes he’ll also have the congenital stoop of C132 Parmak but not always. He dresses very free in the summer and bundles up like the kid in A Christmas Story in the winter. He has a strange obsession with tentacle porn and stopped consuming sugar sometime in the early 2000s. He’s pretty much everyone’s friend and can be outspoken and opinionated (especially on obscure things). He totally grows on people even if they don’t like him much at first and is always a brilliant doctor and ethically upright and kind character.

Sometimes he’ll appear in contemporary Cardassian fics/drabbles so some of the more Earth centric traits will be missing but everything else will pretty much hold true. The sex thing also holds for anyone in the C147 Parmak verse including Julian and Garak who are usually the 2 other constants. This too is actually kind of personal for me. It’s a lens through which I see the world. Maybe it’s because growing up I was like listening to Howard Stern since I was 7 and had a lot of exposure to that sort of thing. It’s difficult for me not to sexualize things and interactions and in my writing I tend to be super sex driven. Since my RL doesn’t even remotely reflect that activity I enjoy expressing it through fic even if the C147 Parmak and others get kind of caricature-ish.

Stories featuring C147 Parmak are: The Extraverse, Lizards Melt in your Mouth (epilogue 1 not 2), The power of Three, and the drabble Fine Print

So if you don’t like your Parmak to be an over the top extra dick magnet then steer clear of this Parmak :)

As a side note “A Gift for My Darling” has a mirror Parmak that’s a combo of both these Parmaks while being kind of completely insane.

Thank you everyone for taking the time to read, and I hope this enhances everyone’s experience with my stories. I’m always super appreciative of anyone reading and giving feedback. I’m kinda of like a sponge... but not the Seinfeld kind haha

I’ve been debating if people might prefer that I tag either version of this character for ease of filtering so any feedback on that either by reply or DM would be much appreciated!

#star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #my fics #Kelas Parmak #headcanons sorta #more like alternate versions #Parmak

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hardyharharbinks · 4 years

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Blog Entry #3: A New Perspective

The Prince of Egypt (1998) is one of the best retelling of a biblical story of all time. Although there have been other film adaptations of the Exodus story, the appeal of the film is that it is the most true to the essence of the original; the historical accuracy, the ethnicity of the characters, the depiction of God. Although, some elements are added for dramatic effect similar to any other adaptation, but not as much as Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014), for example, presents a sword-wielding Moses, not to mention the main cast is portrayed by white people (on purpose because having non-white characters meant not enough funding for a Hollywood film), sacrificing a lot of accuracy to the source material.

But we’re not here to debate over which adaptation is better than the other (although my bias still lies heavily towards POE). In terms of time, while the Exodus story begins before Moses, the film opens during the time the Pharaoh orders the killing of all newborn Hebrew boys. For the most part, the events in the film are true and chronological aside from a several details that have not been included as the film is condensed into the significant events that lead to Moses’ development. This is understandable as according to scholars, Moses was much older (80) when he confronts the Pharaoh compared to how long it took in the film (he seemed to be in his early 40′s).

It is common to think that books automatically hold more depth in comparison to the film since the film has only so much time to cover the significant events and highlights of the story. While I agree with this, I believe the film provides a new level of depth that the bible cannot. A story that took place so many years ago brought to life, especially one such as sacred from the bible, can be exciting but controversial. However, I think that the way the film portrays the characters, the setting and the development of the plot humanizes the figures and allows us to visualize these events that would have otherwise remained words on a page.

One aspect that draws so many to animation, is that there are no limitations, as a result, POE was able to elevate the wonders already in the bible: Moses’ serpent-turning staff, the 10 plagues, the splitting of the Red Sea, etc. The animation, no matter how unreal it sounds in the original story, beautifully brings to life what might have felt fake if done with CGI. In addition, I am 101% sure they did not have accompanying musical numbers at the time but the music, added great significance and emotion to whatever was happening. Throughout the film it was used to help us understand the plea of slaves for freedom (Deliver Us), feel for Moses when he has his identity crisis (All I Ever Wanted), comprehend the conflict arising between the two brothers knowing that it hurts them both (The Plagues). Needless to say, with the elements mentioned previously, anyone even slightly interested in the story or without background knowledge can find themselves immersed the film.

Since it is an animation, the movement may not feel completely natural throughout the whole film, but not so much that it distracts the viewer from the film. And this sounds a little silly but watching it again the film seemed real and unreal at the same time. Since most animations are fiction, for a second you might think that POE is just another tale, but I guess just like faith the reality steps in for those who choose to believe.

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katiebruce · 4 years

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adieu, 2019.

Here we are at the beginning of not only a new year, but a new decade. This past year went by so quickly (why are they always going by so much faster? Is this the true curse of aging?) that sometimes I had to hold my breath in an attempt to secure a quick moment for myself amidst it all. That is, I’m not trying to complain, nor say that 2019 wasn’t so incredibly fantastic to me; I digress. It’s just that I’m finding that the older that I get, the more challenging it becomes to live the life I want to live and still have time for myself at the close of the day, let alone to sit down and write about it. I am still deep in the throes of my Saturn Return, and so I know this is to be expected—and again, I don’t wish to complain about how bountiful my life was the past year. I simply state this in a moment of honest reflection, in hopes that in recapping my year, I can learn from it and make the new year ahead of me adopt a pace that isn’t so exhausting and altogether overwhelming. (It’s ironic that I wrote this pledge to myself a full week ago and have just now found the time to sit down and finish this silly, old little tradition I have for myself).

So, here it is, 2019. A final dance for you and I:

It started in the dark, with very loud soul music. My first NYE with a guaranteed kiss—my sweet prince Taylor. A New Year’s Day hangover dinner with some of the greatest at Parson’s, aka negroni slushies and fried chicken heaven.

My sister and Mom visited; the annual trip. Except this year something was different—Kelly’s hand was adorned with a newly acquired diamond weight. The engagement excitement had officially begun, and our usual visit of shopping, eating, drinking and comedy was suddenly buzzing with the anticipation of a wedding lurking somewhere around the new year’s corner.

I braced for the transition into my thirties—and the week it came couldn’t have been any sweeter. I’d just begun my seventh year as a flight attendant and was ready for a celebration of my twenties, and the journey they had taken me on. Taylor took me out for sushi and Shakespeare and we ended up sitting by the fire at a bar near my apartment when the clock struck midnight, and my twenties officially ended. The next day brought with it the promise of my best friend, Kris, and to my surprise, my best friend Nicole—a surprise trip that Lauren, Taylor, Kris and she had been in cahoots about without my knowledge. I returned home from target (of course) to a decorated apartment, loads of tears, and a hug so loving only your best friend could be the one giving it to you.

We played games, drank, ate, and stressed (something somewhat new to me, at least on my birthday) about the weekend’s plans ahead of us.

What was supposed to be a big night out, ended with me too drunk to finish a single drink at the bar. An impromptu house party and some drugs of choice (as well as the now famous Mom’s Whiteclaw—a combination of vodka and whiteclaw) saw me panicking in the bar bathroom and pulling an Irish exit. Feeling overwhelmed by social obligations, as well as celebrations where I am the center of attention, was new to me—I’d always loved it. But with the start of a new decade of my life, and the new chapter that came along with it, I realized that perhaps this wasn’t the person I was anymore, and instead of making myself feel guilty about it, I should perhaps try and embrace it, and learn from my experience instead.

This was the first of many changes within me that occurred in 2019.

Like, for example, when I fell out of love with eyeliner. Silly as it may sound, my densely winged look had become my signature style for so many years and suddenly it had started to feel more like a costume than a form of honest self-expression. Then it was my hair, my style—an identity crisis in the finest of forms—and still, at the close of this year I find myself uncertain of where I define myself stylistically—a minor problem, all things considered—but the uncertainty that comes along with it makes me lack my sense of direction, my sense of self, and my sense of expression. How can I still not know who I am, and who I want to be? How can it be possible to wake up one day, and suddenly feel so entirely disconnected to yourself, and the life you have so carefully curated for yourself—so separate from your desires, aspirations, and goals? What happens to a person that causes this change to occur so seamlessly? And do we all experience it? How are we supposed to find the time to cope?

I felt plagued by this question and still do. Just because a year ends, doesn’t mean everything has a specific ending. Correct punctation. Symmetrical narrative. Cohesive closure.

So it goes.

Spring came and along with it, Taylor’s first trip to Europe: Germany, Austria, and the Czech Republic. We drank beer, ate sweets, and visited some of the finest bars Europe has to offer (seriously—Prague has the best nightlife ever. I cannot wait to return and be haunted again by a glorious bartender who changes into the get up of a tarot card-bearing alchemist when a certain drink is ordered).

Our feet hurt and our jetlagged worsened but we were both eager with wanderlust, drunk on the idea that the interview Taylor had had the day before we left might just be the final one he went on, the ending to our nearly year-length long-distance woes, and the start of a new future together residing in the same city again, the stress of visitation no longer so troubling.

Turns out, it was.

A few weeks later, I took a trip to Maui on a whim. I spent the weekend at the beach, eating pineapples and drinking craft beer. I saw the oldest tree in the nation and felt deeply rooted in this new person I was becoming—am becoming—and felt inspired by her many offspring and how they’d all taken root themselves, baring their own identities, spawning off of one nucleus, off one single stump. I felt I was beginning to spawn, myself, and felt comforted in the seemingless infinite possibilities I would have to re-root, myself, in my own lifetime.

May came and I watched as my Kristopher turned thirty, his own new journey beginning, and celebrated sweetly amongst friends in his new apartment in Denver.

Taylor and I flew to Sweden on a whim—through London, of course—and spent an entire week with the flu falling in love with Stockholm… even though over-the-counter cold medicines are illegal country-wide. Taurus season being what it is, we argued, didn’t sleep, and flew home feeling worse than we had when we arrived. But, despite all that it didn’t spoil our trip. Instead it made us both realize that there are things worth fighting for in life, and that our relationship was one of them—we truly fought for it on that trip, and we both threw punches only to immediately tend to each others wounds, embarrassed we’d been so bold as to injure one another in the first place. I felt a sense of peace in this discovery; a sense of honesty that isn’t always pleasant but is, regardless, helpful.

It’s also worth noting that I ate the best veggie lasagna ever created and drank loads of loads of Meade—seriously—Sweden is the fucking coolest.

Summer came and went, and with the temperature hardly rising above eighty degrees in the city, I felt relieved. I helped Taylor move cross-country over the weekend of the Fourth of July and felt both excited and scared about our new adventure in the same city—hoping he’d love it but allowing him room to adjust and make his own judgements, without my influence.

We decorated his apartment, dealt with a lot of issues that come along with settling into a new city, and still we managed to grow stronger.

And then the wedding chaos began.

I planned a bachelorette trip for my sister in Nashville, and as her maid of honor, the stress was real. We planned surprises, arranged flights and travel plans, and found an Airbnb large enough to play home for all of us. I was dreading the trip until it actually came. We spent four days having fun, celebrating love, and listening to lots of emo music. I was incredibly proud of my sister, and excited for her marital bliss to final arrive that she has waited so long for.

Before I could even process it all, the wedding weekend came, and I watched as my sister took the hand of the man who is now my brother. I have never seen a bride more beautiful or had a celebration more perfect. But windy. Oh boy, was it windy.

Riot fest approached, and with it, Taylor and I’s one-year anniversary. In many ways, it was our year and a half anniversary, but that’s a story for another time. We started a tradition of finding gifts for each other at the Renegade craft fair and then ate our weight in Indian food on what was a particularly cool day in September.

October came, and with it the promise of a long-awaited trip to South Korea. What I initially called “Taylor’s pick” (as a form of explanation, when people asked why we were going there) quickly became one of my favorite places I’ve ever been to. We spent eight days learning the culture, seeing the immensely large city, revisiting the tragic history and eating the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten, day in and day out. I seriously cannot express how much I loved Seoul so simply; it was an experience I will cherish for the rest of my life. We visited the border of North Korea and felt the tragedy of a country at war firsthand and then visited the beautiful rural island of Nami and reveled in the fiery, changing, vibrant fall leaves. We played with meerkats and cooked our own barbeque and visited the birth site of the infamous Gangnam style. I drank a sweet potato latte and ate snow cheese. I cried as we spent our final morning walking Namdemoon market, feeling that a great change had come along with that experience, and that I’d never quite get that specific feeling back again.

My birthday was revisited again, in the form of receiving my present: two tickets to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on Broadway in NYC. Taylor had got us first row balcony seats for the two-part play, and we spent an entire weekend running around (picture me showing him all of the settings of scenes from Catcher in the Rye—it was his first time in the city!) and crying during what was a breathtaking, phenomenal stage production. We ate chocolate frogs and drank wine and I felt truly in love with man sitting beside me, who was generous enough to make one of my dreams come true just to see me smile.

In November, we traveled to Brussels (I know—so many trips this year—I’m tired just typing about them all) to see Vampire Weekend and explore. We ended up drinking our way through the city, eating chocolate, meatballs and waffles everywhere we went. We discovered our new favorite beer—a kriek—and drank more of it than we did water for an entire weekend. I felt young on this trip, and though tired, excited for the busy weeks that lay just ahead of us.

Thanksgiving came so fast, it hardly felt real. And then, like clockwork, Christmas arrived. Time at home is always so relaxing, but also so stressful—old toxicities arise and are hard to combat in the moment. I guess part of growing is also realizing that facing these problems head on may not be pleasant, but is ultimately best for both your mental health and the experience of those around you, and that some demons never go away but instead just become tamed in the back of our minds, and we need to accept that.

I watched as Nicole, my Nicole, turned thirty and simultaneously dealt with some particularly hard times. It can be so hard to want to keep our friends safe in our arms, away from the rest of the world and its harms, without realizing that we each have to face certain things alone and experience the growth that that process allows. Adulthood really is tragic, and I want to be—you guessed it—the catcher in the rye, saving all my friends from succumbing to it, falling of the ledge of adolescence, and all the woes adulthood brings along with it.

So here we are, on January 8th, and I’ve finally found the time to draw this to a close. At the end of this particular year, it’s hard not to only reflect on the 365 days passed, but at the decade as a whole. In 2009, I was a horribly depressed twenty-year-old who suffered from terrible insomnia and a heartache I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from. The past decade has seen me both drop out of and return to college and then get into grad school. I have watched so many around me fall in love, get married and even have children, and even more break up, fall apart and divide themselves. I moved to Chicago and began flying, and though I’m tired of it now, I can truly say the experience of it all changed my life and who I am entirely. I traveled to over twenty countries, some even by myself. I fell in love—three times, to be exact. One is now married, one lives over 4,000 miles away, and one is sleeping next to me, forever snoring his way into my heart and wherever the future may take it. I struggled to deal with who I was, who I had been, and who I was becoming. I grew. I grew so much, sometimes I’m not sure I would even recognize the former version of myself, though I’ve left her pressed between the pages of certain books, in certain countries, to be forever immortalized in her own glory over time—even if that specific glory is no longer my own.

2020 has started rough—a long week of work, and six days in, a mental break down that took a fistful of medication and a bucket full of tears to properly silence. In twelve days, the first chunk of my novel has to be written, and in all honesty, I’m struggling. By the end of March, half of it will be complete, and come August, I will not only have my MFA, but the manuscript to a novel in my possession. If this doesn’t produce anxiety in you than I’m not sure what will—we’re talking 80k+ words in eight short months... but I’m trying to focus on a daily word count, and see what I can accomplish on a smaller scale, rather than get swept away by the big, looming picture as I did just a few days ago.

This year I will visit Israel and Egypt—and who knows where even else—I haven’t had the time to think about it. I will fly my eighth year, and hopefully be able to hang my wings in retirement at the close of it.

In a few short weeks, I will be 31 and I will struggle to accept that fact. Where does time go? Why does it seem to go by so fast anymore—and will it ever slow down? I’m looking forward to a more relaxing year but know that I’m lying to myself in even simply hoping for it. I will feel lost, defeated, and at times, hopeless. And I need to be okay with that.

I know one thing for sure, and it is this: I will write. This year, I will write so much, it actually terrifies me. But that’s what life is all about, and what I want to conquer more of in my thirties: my fears. I will cry, and sing, and fight, and fuck and be tired as I do it all, surely. I will explore, I will stay in, and I may even get a taste of some of that sweet, sweet, legal marijuana Chicago now offers.

I look forward to a year full of uncertainties, and I look forward to looking back on it in a short amount of time and seeing how much I’ve grown from where I currently am now.

Happy New Year, friends—and remember—just because a year has a specific expiration, we don’t have to align our hopes and aspirations along with it. Grow for yourself, and bloom when you can. Who cares if it’s in the middle of winter, or the first week of June. Symmetry isn’t natures strong suit, and we should stop forcing our expectations to line up with a silly calendar. Live how you want to live for you, and the rest is just decoration. This is my resolution for the new year—not to set expectations—and to instead let each chapter unfold naturally, to let each page feel crisp and unread under my eager, oily fingertips. Cheers.

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glopratchet · 4 years

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cldstrm000

You can't see anything on it, but you guess that it's probably a little more advanced than what your computer was capable of back in grade school What we have is a screen of buttons and a list of plot lines and a bunch or characters who are either important to the story or just there for you to kill You're not really sure how much you want to play with this thing though since all of these games seem pretty cut and dry, like they're going to be exactly the same no matter which one you choose Throw it up there let us see it Plot -Bunny's right, it's better if you choose since A: You're the mastermind behind all this and B: You'll enjoy it more that way Press the button with a flourish, we have work to do Plot-Bunny's right, Unseen story Try to incorpate in to mechanics but descriptions are nice too You can pay others to use their creations, or even make your own a separate items with a single coin ; (much smaller than the gold coins) A "Creations for Coin" topic will be started, but it is not necessary to use it First impression of character -creation What can you character do with what abilities they have? How does the begining of the story effect the outcome of it all? So many factors come into play, that this is going to be unbelievable hard Very few people can say they got an A in Writing Class ; (Or any other Subject), but you're going to TRY for one of those few Who are the characters you'll be controlling in this giant game of marbles? What kind of relationships will you make with them? That's all down to choice my friend, choice Your grade for This is going to be decided by a poll on "What was your favorite questline? " along with other things, ex: "What was your Favorite Line? or "Did the ending meet expectations? " so make it count! Delivering lore is about consistent details Collecting 5 of the same rune creates a stack of that rune that some may argue that you don't need in a game, but you'll need them to understand your bios - From backstory to in-game details Everyone starts with 3 Inventory Slots, each lasting 3 Posts ; (Coins are included in this), get more by investing in "Backpack Creation" Head cannon ideas can range from silly to creative Bad ones get deleted, good ones' get used (Starting Gold: Briar ; (Thyme? A dash of herbs and a sprig of flowers Power: Healing Touch ; (3 Use) - Sacrifice Thyme's herbs and flowers for Health Packs Ability1: Harmful Smell ; (1 Use) - Release a scentless gas that knock's enemies back and confuses them momentarily So do you control a character or do you watch a character Tell me about it: Why are you resigned to telling a story instead of playing one? Why would someone willingly do this to themselves? You could watch the character manage the story or manage it for them, makes no difference to me Rejoice! To become a Narration Pixie! For that is what you are now (Also who reads this stuff? ) Your Friends, your Classmates, your Family ; (Surly they're reading this) nobody will ever look at you the same way again ; (Except for Sophie who just asks "What now? Don't believe me? Move from hex to hex and let the story unfold from there, don't just watch some scrub do it for you Also there isn't just survival on the line ; (Although there is that), but your grade in my class, of course Then the ui is like dashboard for witnessing plots / ui plot select Select a plot to start the game To skip the prologue and go to credits, choose 1 To jump into the action, choose 2 For more info about each section and the credits, choose 3 There's not much but A, and C so that narrows it down at least How do you interact with the plot By lightly to heavily imagining what the plot is and actually feeling the emotions, this plays out like a choose your own adventure This gives you shares in game, but losses shares for your choosing Make all the choices and you have nothing to represent the fact that you ever existed The 1% of people who finish get 1% shared in being a winner Are you roman During the market stampede? By creating alligator snapping turltes and dropping them down into the world they slowly grow over time, eventually turning into a deadly underwaterbeast that can crush and burn anything your grade in my class, The events tab would write out stories In the past you thumbed through them like a college radio enthusiast, but with this set of incomprehensible inputs you decide that it might be better if you personally arranged them about the nonplayer characters and their life events--what they felt, saw, thought, and how they were died You didn't read too much into it then, but maybe somebody was trying to tell you something Rant: Ultimately written with NaNoRe write your user story So what you are creating is one giant story that quite frankly nobody will ever read mainly because they aren't instructed too Also many sections are so long that nobody, even you have the persistence to read it all through But that doesn't matter, in fact you probably don't even care if anybody reads it But how is interactive when you enter text it plays out in real time based on how you set up the characters and events Your main character is a veteran that served 20 years? Have him reminiscence about the past, but don't go overboard Got a bully? change what they say based on your input Have mother nature herself be a female Goddess of destruction? Have mechanics come up that support the theory after you get passed the religious fanaticism of it all I mean little bubbles could pop up that tell you that the plot as been advanced to a new page It needs tweaking so that's going to take time So what do you do until then? Bold: The unending sun accosts your skin with only the mercy of lukewarm breezes to cool you down "Not bad, not bad, A full head of gray hair onto your Violet scalp thanks to your orc heritage, dark circles surround your eyes and a white beard reflects how many worries have plagued you in the past few days Perhaps even re watch the drama unfold on the hex map You killed forty of the young men in the ensuing battle and now have them at your beck and call to take out to the battlegrounds as you decide on what to do with your Nation, So your resourceful half-dragon master makes first contact with a nearby orc village--it went better than anyone could have anticipated That would fade into video during certain segments that really need a high definiton render His elaborate map shows what could only be the western front of an on going war It's quite frankly more high tech than anything he's shown you before You peer closer at the twenty foot hexagonal tiled ground and watch as the war drones fly overhead and bombard a nearby rocky outcrop They cut through it like butter, then continue on The why from his perfect memory and ingenious implementation You fondle your many options You see a screen of all the characters names and on the row exists options that can be choosen for them to say or do when 'active Something about alligator snapping turtles dropping from the sky (he said dropping not falling Well that's interesting) Must be an event He had many connections to companies out side of the village so that might be lucrative Someone is spying on the village, via a drone maybe? You can try and track it down and disable it Or leave it alone thinking nobody noticed Nah He had only four re-inforcements waiting to aid him in his journey as commander of the war-band Or are you the turtle roaming about The screen pulls back and now you are shown to have your pointer finger on a yellow giant star at the center Also other planets exist out side of your vision Maybe the moon of this planet contains resources You can only control events that YOU personally have been a part of If someone else where to take command no doubt you would be demoted Where did he come from? Why is he here? Could he have destroyed the village in the first place? But if it lands in certain places it opens up new characters for you to play The universal storyteller could have ideas for you for a price presumably The thing is all of this story is really happening in the background or to make your own Hitting select pulls up a prompt to continue the story Turning the three terminal into one large hexagon would allow you to use it as a visual mapping tech for re-creations of battles or wildlife etc Combining functions eh? Removing enemies from the story could increase the rate of survival for people such as your character There is a fourth column that exists with the why, how and what columns In the simulation this displayed 'life' and was at 100% Pressing it changes the column heading to a screen ending of continue or create The hallway now exists with walls on each side displaying blue swirly patterns that seem to form words, sentences thoughts Everything feels very Matrix like right now Now you start to panic, wonder if you had something to drink before heading into the lab best get out of here quick And i need to program it out so others cant use this stupid machine! Now you try to exit, but the terminal wont let you Only one option remains no no that won't work! horrors This ending is nonsensical under most circumstances! The question is how do you program out the simulation It was designed to be a visual storyteller Your sacrifices or their sacrifices were used in the formulas to allow my abilities to program and design video games! Even a light switch is knowledge of electrons and protons in our Universe! o I hear opening music usually reserved for grand space battles the sensations of flying through space are filling your mind I wonder if something I ate disagreed with me You need to create the alligator turtle drop for others to use without them being participators in my whole scheme argh music is mathematical structure but what will I choose as the columns? To have your music relived via hologram at your funeral or not This seems almost backwards i was about to try something out and now I am on a decision screen! The story was about someone dying from snakebite now music? This doesn't seem right The idea of a single page decision does not sound like a good one I have been having trouble of late and cant be sure that there are not things broken in the narrative The world is a loop that resets itself over and over We can only hope to change the tiniest portion of it But what choice do we have but to try? NOTE: This story was previously titled "The Storyteller: A Music Tale" Think more about the company that creates this experience in movies and games Wish I could list all my sources and influences or this note would be far too long Thank you for your time, patience and support How does the alligator turtle drop game work It is the closing drop of a magic act A bowl is place on a table and a ball is placed on the floor beneath it The magician slowly puts each finger into the bowl one at a time and then makes a horrifying discovery a small alligator turtle has been secretly placed underneath the bowl! You must play through the choices in chronological order Each choice represents one of the fingers But yes dropping more and more turtle reviels more and more of the game If you get desperate one can use the other website link ; (or copy and paste) to try and figure out the elaborate set of circumstances needed to create this tale Please do not post these answers online anywhere as it is likely to ruin the fun for others in the future Let the adventure and discovery begin! The protector robot has safeguards to prevent itself from being hacked and summarily destroyed by evil types It can tell when these types are trying to gain access to the place It would be very rare for someone to be of this unusually interested in this tale It is easy enough to get a hold of me through the contact information at the front of this website The idea to creat a simlation was developed through talking to a number of high school and college students who were heading into these fields It really stemmed from my desire ot get the programming language Python ; (used in the creation of this tale) into classroom CS101 curriculum's After I retired it seamed natural to revisit the idea of switching my focus to online teaching This venture was much longer and more successful than my 74seconds org venture because it seemed to tap into an underserved market! Remember the idea is to create a simulation of a physical space so that you the reader can learn logic gates So keep interaction in mind when you are moving through each page! Maybe the reader does not focus on the details difference with each new reading but the programmer watching you will see if there is any pattern or repeatable strategy There needs to be a bit of adventure for flavor but mechanically the entire story is built with interaction in mind Finally the idea is to create a computer simulation of a physical space so that you the reader can learn logic gates without all the tedious work I believe this idea could be applied to other in-demand career fields as well; from medical technicians to kindergarten teaching Where a robot design to protect a snapping turtle baby malfunctions and does not disappear when dead and effects the swamp opera around them The snapping turtle baby also metamorphisizes as it grows up The interaction between the swamp creatures and the robot as well as their mannerisms are used to represent bits and bytes of information That second paragraph was for you programmers trying to solve out the sim Just think binary if it helps! One day I would love to try this as an app or some other kind of video game form but sadly I do not have the knowledge to accomplish this But you still have not figured out how the players of the game can add something unpredictable to the mix so that each play through is different Feel free to email me your ; (sensible) solution! I would also like comment on the image of R2-D2 above the robot design I am a big time star wars nerd and carrying that over into the design was a no-brainer for me But what you may not know is that this robot design was made by one C-3PO! The players make the game unpredictable by selecting which wires to cut If the wrong wire is cut then the robot may misread a command and turn hostile! Thanks again for visiting my site and good luck with the puzzles! - modified on Tuesday, October 3, 2013 9: 26: 04 PM Labels: All , Software Break those chains - for freedom! I think that this is brilliant because it really ties into my theory of only education certain types of schooling can really prepare you The most unpredictable method of changing the game by the players is Something even more unpredictable than the roll of a dice and that's the chaos in human behavior which these gladiators will find out today Some lessons in life can only be taught through pain and loss and maybe even death Something even more unpredictable than the roll of a dice and that's the chaos in human behavior The most unpredictable method of changing the game by the players is actually very simple It is the one thing every 'person' has that separates us from other creatures: Choice My challenge to you, readers, is to find a way to introduce choice-based actions for the gladiators to do within the narratives I lay out Specifics on how this will happen will be in each post Doesn't have to be complex and it doesn't have rewrite the entire post

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thepapergirlandthespiegelman · 5 years

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My Top Ten Favorite Video Games of All Time

As of right now.

10. Madeline European Adventures (Creative Wonders, Microsoft Windows, 1996)

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Keywords: point-and-click adventure, single player

This short, cute PC game from my childhood follows young Madeline on an adventure through Europe. The game has the same sweet, unassuming art style as the books and cartoon. You help Madeline by completing simple tasks like collecting flowers and piecing together a ripped up train ticket. The simplicity and childish wonder of this game fill me with nostalgia.

9. Spaceteam (Henry Smith, Android, 2012)

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Keywords: couch co-op, multiplayer, party game

I think this might have literally been one of the official tag lines of the game, or maybe it was in the trailer or something, but I commonly introduce this game as “a game where you get to scream at your friends.” Also, chaos. The premise of the game is that you work with your friends to fly a spaceship. Each player has a unique dashboard, and some of the instructions that appear on a player’s screen will be for controls on another player’s dashboard, meaning that everyone has to yell out their commands as they get them (while also listening for instructions for their own dashboard).

The aesthetic of Spaceteam is simple and elegant. The background music is a perfect fit. I love the uniqueness of the characters in the Waiting Room. Even though your character’s appearance has no bearing on the actual game, it’s a nice aesthetic touch that seems superior to simple sprites distinguished from each other only by color or something like that. It adds that small, additional silly moment of “I’m the pink guy with the elephant trunk and pageant queen sash.” (I also love that silly moment when playing with someone new: “Is that who I’ll be in the game?” “Nope.” “Oh.”) And the opening lines (“...as a SPACETEAM!”) are so satisfying and iconic.

I love the complexity of the controls; rather than just tapping buttons, playing Spaceteam involves turning dials, moving notched sliders, and swinging broken panels back into place.

The picture sectors are by far my favorite because of how ridiculous and diverse the verbalization that people come up with are. Sometimes it’s as simple as yelling “California! CALIFORNIA!!!” over and over again, but other times it seems impossible to communicate with anything less than “Partially drained pool on a hot day! PARTIALLY DRAINED POOL ON A HOT DAY!”

Spaceteam is a simple game and not as popular as it was in its heyday, but it’s still a fun icebreaker and party game.

8. Old School RuneScape (Jagex, Microsoft Windows, 2013)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), massively multiplayer online (MMO), third person

I never played RuneScape Classic, I only recently got into OSRS, and I only play free-to-play (FTP) because I’m too cheap with money to spend it on RuneScape and too cheap with time to try to generate enough in-game currency to buy membership. As I understand it, RuneScape has something of a reputation as a game of mindless grinding and meaningless achievement. This is probably somewhat deserved. There is a lot of repetitiveness in improving skills (“skilling”) in RuneScape, and it’s not really balanced by any creative aspect in the way that the gameplay in Stardew Valley is. There are quests, but I quickly ran through all of the free-to-play quests (with the exception of two that called for me to murder innocent people and therefore, to this day, lie incomplete in my quests list...). There’s also player-versus-player (PVP) combat, but besides the aforementioned aversion to murder, I don’t really stand a chance against even a mediocre player.

But there’s a lot to love about OSRS. While I initially cringed at the extremely dated aesthetic, I grew to love it. Is it ugly? Yes. Do everyone’s eyes look like unholy, black, triangular voids? Yes. But the same things that make it dated and ugly also make it visually interesting and unique.

What really redeems RuneScape for me, though, is the other players. RuneScape was the first MMO that I ever played, and I was really pleasantly surprised by how genuinely kind, helpful, and thoughtful the other players are. Veterans are eager to help out new players. Multiple people have given me super high value items or gold for little or no reason, pretty much out of the blue. One player asked me if I help other people; when I said something like, “Most of the time,” he rewarded me for my honesty with gp and told me to always be good to others. Another gave me gold for complimenting his outfit. Someone gave me a shit ton of runes because he had just won a game of hide and seek and I happened to be walking by, and another person gave me a piece of gilded armor for doing a trivial task.

Part of this, as one player who I talked to pointed out, might be that veterans like to “flex on” noobs, as the kids are saying these days. But I think that part of it is really just that RuneScape is a world of abundance, and when people prosper, they’re eager to share that prosperity with others. I really love that, and I wish that the real world was more similar.

That same conversation leads me to another important point of the social world of RuneScape: surprisingly long and deep conversations. Conversation with the players around you is a way to pass the time while skilling, but, then again, maybe playing RuneScape is an excuse for or avenue to conversation. As far as I can tell, it’s near impossible to find someone to have a pleasant, real-time chat with on the Internet. Sites like Omegle tend to be plagued with bots and horny men (although, actually, I once met someone on Omegle and we’re Tumblr mutuals to this day. So sometimes good things do happen). But everyone I’ve met on RuneScape seems happy to chat about the game and life and whatever else, and I’ve had some really interesting conversations.

7. Swapples (OMGPop, Web, c. 2006)

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Keywords: tile-matching, match 3, multiplayer, online

It’s not that Swapples, a fairly generic tile-matching game, is especially stunning. The game is cute and fun, but what I really appreciate is the OMGPop model. One of my favorite things about playing video games has always been playing with other people. Back in the day, my friends and I would drop OMGPop links in our Skype group chat to invite each other to play these silly games. I love the simplicity of that: no one has to make an account, or friend the other user, or download or buy anything, they just click the link and you’re ready to go. Sadly, OMGPop no longer exists, and I don’t know of any other site that does this.

6. Mario Party 8 (Nintendo, Wii, 2007), Mario Kart Wii (Nintendo, Wii, 2008), Super Smash Bros. Brawl (Nintendo, Wii, 2008)

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Keywords: party game, competitive, multiplayer

I grouped all of these together because they’re the three multiplayer Wii games that I would play with my brothers and friends when I was a kid. I don’t have that much to say about them except that playing games with people is fun!

I’m neither competitive nor at all skilled, but I still enjoyed Brawl for the following reasons:

1) Chaos, comebacks, and rooting for one player or another. I think “Stay out of the way and try to let the big guys beat each other up” is a pretty standard tactic, but yeah; it’s a good one. Even if you don’t win, you get to watch the match, and hey, maybe one of them will kill the other and you’ll survive slightly longer!

2) Badass female character action. It’s superficial, but hey, I loved playing the female characters in Smash: Peach kicking people in the face in her pink high heels; magic-wielding, gender-bending Zelda/Sheik; Samus turning into hot as fuck Zero Suit Samus after her Final Smash.

3) The drama of the story, perhaps exaggerated by my young brain, but a factor contributing to my liking of the game regardless. The idea of all of these different characters coming together to resist being forced to fight each other to the death is pretty romantic.

5. Undertale (Toby Fox, Microsoft Windows, 2015)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), single player, third person, overhead perspective, pixel art

It took me a looong time to get around to playing Undertale. I had known about it for awhile, but I only actually decided to play it after everyone on Tumblr started freaking out about Delta Rune.

I definitely wasn’t disappointed. This game is iconic.

The tag line pretty much sums it up: “The RPG game where you don't have to destroy anyone.”

Historically, I’ve had two problems with video games:

1) Too hard. Games that are too difficult are basically unplayable, and unplayable games aren’t very fun. While I get that if you work at anything long enough, you’ll probably be able to do it eventually, I’d still rather start with an easy game and work up to more difficult ones. I don’t have years of video game experience that would have improved my reaction time and hand-eye coordination and given me a knowledge of strategy. While any game is playable with time and effort, games are most fun (at least for me) when level of player skill and level of challenge are in some kind of balance (there are those masochists who will plug away at games like Getting Over It for hours upon hours, and power to them, but I am not one of them, at least not currently).

2) Too violent. This problem is twofold and relates to the above. The first problem is my general distaste for violence, even fictional. I’d rather help someone than hurt them, if possible. The second problem is that I often get bored by combat. Again, this is partially due to the difficulty being too high; repetitively training myself to improve things like my reaction time and aim seems rather dull to me on the face of it, although I now understand a little better how it could be a welcome challenge. Other times, it seems like combat boils down to just numbers (player stats, etc.), which again, I didn’t immediately see the appeal of, although I now get how it could be intellectually stimulating to calculate and strategize.

Undertale manages to craft a unique and entertaining game without having either of the above problems or reducing the game to a more visual novel-like format.

The save points (which sport the text “...fills you with determination”) feel like a promise from the game that as long as you stay determined, you will be rewarded. I really appreciate that.

This is a fantastic game. It’s sweet, ridiculous, suspenseful, funny, creepy, tragic, and inspirational. The pixel art aesthetic is wonderful. The soundtrack is excellent. Everyone, especially people who think that they don’t like video games, should play this game.

4. Stardew Valley (ConcernedApe/Chucklefish, Microsoft Windows, 2016)

Image: my own screenshot

Keywords: farming simulator, role-playing game (RPG), single player, online co-op, multiplayer, third person, overhead perspective, pixel art

Stardew Valley is a lovely, whimsical farming simulator/country life role-playing game that feels like home. I haven’t played any other farming sims (other than a brief stint with FarmVille, which I pretty quickly abandoned), but what seems to set it apart is the relationships that you build with the other villagers. They’re simplistic in some ways; a big part of the social dynamic follows the typical RPG format of “give person gift, now they love you,” but each villager’s likes and dislikes are (mostly) unique, and the dialogue and cut scenes help to make the relationship feel more real. You can even marry one of them and have children.

You also get to know the villagers’ schedules to some extent and get used to seeing them on holidays, which is weirdly pretty realistic. Predictability makes things easier to code, but human beings also just are predictable. We have routines. We look forward to holidays. The game can get boring, and obviously there are limitations in what you can do to affect things in the game that would not exist in real life, but it still feels pretty real and satisfying.

Co-op mode, in which one player can invite other players to work on their farm with them as farmhands (and may ultimately propose to and marry them, if they wish) feels like a weirdly accurate simulation of what it’s like to run a household together. You worry about money and talk about how much each person should be able to spend. You think about the relationships that each of you has with other people. You collaborate on furnishing and decorating choices. It feels like good practice for the future.

3. Pokémon Leaf Green (Nintendo, Game Boy Advance, 2004), Pokémon Sapphire (Nintendo, Game Boy Advance, 2003)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), single player, third person, overhead perspective, chiptune

My Pokémon games were me hand-me-downs from my brothers. I’m not really sure, but I don’t think that they’re the most popular ones of the series. Regardless, I loved them. I loved caring for each of my precious Pokémon, training them to grow big and strong, and watching them improve and evolve. I caught a Ralts very early on in one of the games, which is apparently quite rare, and lovingly raised it up to a Gardevoir. As a Psychic Pokémon, Gardevoir became kind of a sign of protection and positive mental health for me, a sort of good luck charm. I had a Blaziken named Peeta, after the Hunger Games character. I tried to make sure that each of my Pokémon got time to play and didn’t have to spend eternity cooped up in my Box; this wasn’t always super compatible with my other goal to “catch ‘em all,” but the thought was there. I have such happy nostalgia associated with this game and each of its different aspects: the different biomes and weather, planting berries, the shops and Pokémon centers, the Poké flutes, the different types of Poké balls, the ancient Pokemon, the thrill of potentially catching a legendary Pokémon, the music.

2. Humongous Entertainment suite - Pajama Sam (1996-2003), Freddi Fish (1994-2013), and Putt-Putt (1992-2003)

Image: my own screenshot

Keywords: point-and-click adventure, single player

The HE games are point-and-click adventures featuring a young boy with a silly superhero alter ego (Pajama Sam); a fish (Freddi) and her friend (Luther); and an anthropomorphic car (Putt-Putt). These exploration games fascinated me as a child, and the Pajama Sam aesthetic had a huge impact on me. “No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside,” in which Sam journeys through the fantastical Land of Darkness that he never knew was in his closet, is the most iconic. The game is mostly dressed in shades of purple, blue, and black, with occasional pops of bright yellow and orange thrown in. The game effortlessly tows the line between creepy and charming, with characters like two doors that come to life and act as game show hosts to test Sam before he can pass through. Beyond those two doors lies one of my favorite scenes of the game, a hallway of logic-defying doors: doors of all sizes, shapes, and colors, on the floor, walls, and ceiling. Gravity doesn’t seem to work normally in this strange, liminal space. The mines in the game, in contrast to most of the other imagery, have a lot of stark red and gold, but black border and background elements make the mines just as creepy as the rest of the game, and perhaps more menacing. Like a lot of children’s games, “No Need to Hide” also contains a lot of wacky, mismatched imagery (hot dogs as the ends of cattails, giant paintbrushes next to multi-color geysers that double as paint pots) which, in this case, can be attributed to the fact that the Land of Darkness, for all its forests, rivers, mines, and more, is still contained within Sam’s closet. The confused chaos somehow feels very representative of what the inside of a child’s mind is like.

“You Are What You Eat from Your Head to Your Feet” and “Life is Rough When You Lose Your Stuff” are similar to “No Need to Hide,” but the soundtrack improves, bringing in varying kinds of jazz music, from swing to bossa nova, as the final element tying the Pajama Sam aesthetic together.

I also have to give a nod to the first Freddi Fish game. The aesthetic of “The Case of the Missing Kelp Seeds” is similarly bizarre and wonderful. The dark and creepy junkyard guarded by an angry “dog” fish, the sketchy manta ray watch salesman, the “peanut butter and jellyfish” sandwich that you have to feed to a hostile lurking eel, the fish cabaret. It’s just really creative and aesthetically interesting.

1. Paper Mario series - Paper Mario (2001), Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door (2004), Super Paper Mario (2007)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), single player, third person, player-controlled party members/allies

Paper Mario, Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door: turn-based combat

Super Paper Mario: real-time combat, action role-playing game, side-scroller, platformer

The only Mario games that I’ve played other than the party games, I used to play these with my younger brother. We’d take turns playing and watching the other person. I love the idea of Paper Mario, and of course the characters and art style are unique, creative, iconic. We started with Super Paper Mario, and I remember that one the most vividly. In Super Paper Mario, the paper version of Mario actually has the ability to go 3D, finding secret locations and paths inaccessible to those restricted to two dimensions. Something about that is just really cool to me, and it expands on the theme of exploration of all nooks and crannies (check ceilings, look under loose bricks!) from the game’s predecessors.

So much weird stuff happens in this game (note: some spoilers ahead, obviously): seemingly cute and innocent Mimi forces Mario into slavery after he accidentally breaks a vase, then later transforms into a horrifying spider monster; Mario visits the underworld and swims in the river Styx, where long, creepy white hands grab at him; there’s an entire secret alternate version of one of the central locations, “Flipside,” called “Flopside.” This game is just wild, and I love all of the different settings and characters and how the plot progresses.

Honorable mentions/good games that didn’t make my top ten: Frog Fractions, Jackbox games (Drawful, Quiplash), Zoo Tycoon, Depression Quest, The Stanley Parable, The Beginner’s Guide, Doki Doki Literature Club, Firewatch, Donut County

So that’s my list! I’m still very new to the world of video games. There are a lot of genres that I haven’t even tried yet. I’m very open to recommendations!!!

#list #video games #aesthetic #gameplay #storytelling

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