#would look better with a copper hood

[hillwoodhouse]

#interiors #kitchen #kitchen design #would look better with a copper hood #backsplash

[elsewhereuniversity]

Once again, some engineering undergraduates have overestimated their own prowess and summoned something when they should have been finishing their homework. The engineering TAs would like to take this moment to remind all the engineering majors that it is not a part of our jobs to track down whatever you summon and that you will fail any and all assignments that summon anything. As per university policy, we cannot grade summonings.

As a precaution, until further notice, the maker’s space is now closed to all students. Access will only be allowed under the direct supervision of a TA (good luck finding us) or a professor (assuming you can find one outside of office hours). All senior theses must be hypothetical - any practical theses proposals have been retroactively rescinded. Laboratory research is expected to continue as usual.

Safety is everyone’s responsibility when working with the unknown! Your TAs have prepared some helpful reminders to reduce the chances this happens again.

Complete the mandatory Elsewhere Lab Safety Training! If you do not complete this by the end of the quarter, things will befall you! Don’t test our patience!

Never work alone in the lab! Not only is this bad practice for most experiments, but two are better than one when it comes to stopping unusual lab problems.

Carry your iron rod, salt packet, and water bottle at all times. Replacement rods are available at the academic advising office, salt packets can be taken from the dining halls, and water bottles can be found at the athletics department.

All projects must be made out of iron. For iron alloys and composites, consult a TA, professor, or postdoc to see if the iron percentage is higher than the threshold.

Follow university policy regarding safety best practices in the classroom and around campus.

Bioengineers: only use samples acquired directly from other labs. Neither Elsewhere University nor the Engineering Department can guarantee that samples arrive uncontaminated (remember the Great Homunculi disaster?).

Electrical engineers: the efficacy of copper against the Fair Folk is still yet to be determined. Do not listen to the upperclassmen who tell you that copper works just as well as iron. This has been suspected to be a way of hazing new students and violated the university hazing policies.

Chemical engineers: use the fume hoods. Accidents happen much less often when working in a well-ventilated area.

Civil engineers: your steel pins may contain too little iron to be useful. Do not rely on them in a pinch. Yes, they look cool, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Your faculty advisors will be conducting iron checks to ensure you have enough iron on you at all times.

Mechanical engineers: how many times do we have to remind you that just because something could work doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to build it? Remember the machine that nonstop summoned things for weeks? And how hard that was to stop? Please don’t build that again, or anything like it.

And, as always, report accidents to the relevant safety authorities. The sooner the damage is evaluated, the sooner it can be contained and fixed.

On behalf of the entire department, we preemptively thank you for adjusting to this change in departmental policy.

Please understand that your midterm grades will be coming out late, as we are working hard to understand what was summoned and how: if anyone has information about it, please direct it to the Dean’s office.

- your engineering TAs

#submission #aelloposchrysopterus #long post #stories #love letters to majors #engineering majors

[unholyhelbig]

Can you do spider!person x Kate Bishop with a soulmate AU?

[A/n: I've never been a massive fan of Soulmate au's but, for some reason this one really got under my skin and helped with some writers block, so, thank you!]

Title: Magnetic

Ship: Kate Bishop x gn!reader

Disclaimer: I did not proofread, if there are mistakes, I'm sorry!

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

Summary: Reader is a spider!person from earth-2099 and Kate Bishop is curious about why she's so drawn to them.

The piano stood in the center of a restaurant that seemed to harvest the warmth of every candle. They were unscented, casting a deep yellow glow that shaded the patrons’ faces and stretched them in shadows. You had figured that you could be no true judge of character when those around you were bathed in untrustworthy light.

Having live music was part of the charm, or so you had been told. Classically trained and playing the same sonatas over ivory keys for left over bread and mistaken orders. People would send food back for the slightest hint of sodium, too much cilantro, too little portions. Of course, you could keep your tips at the end of the night, sometimes they would brim the elegant glass jar on the hood of the piano.

Sometimes, you’d see nothing but a brass quarter that a man who smelled too thickly of tobacco would drop to its basin. He’d tell you the story of the general carved into the front, a confederate, you had no doubt. And you would nod, your fingers doing all the work to keep up the quiet ambiance of the lobby.

At one point, you remember enjoying playing the piano. Of course, that was before you mastered it. When you were a novice, it was fun, you’d ply each note and double down on the pedals. You’d take risks. But the restaurant did not want risk. They wanted sub-par entertainment.

You knew you were good, better than good, you were perfect. You’d had all the time in the world to get to this point and you’d lean on your talents if it meant a good meal and something to do. It distracted you from your own discontent with this world. With 616.

The clinking sound of a piece of copper against a glass pulled you from your thoughts. Your hands were gliding along the keys all the same, undeterred from the distraction. Though, you almost caught yourself ‘C’ sharp.

Kate Bishop stood in front of you, leaning against the side of the Kawai, it’s black finish reflecting her pensive stare. In all the universe, she still had the same slightly-infuriating, adorable face of determination that she wore now.

Of course, she had an evening gown, and of course she dressed the part. She wore something emerald, green, reflecting from her gray, storming stare. Kate’s lips were painted red, her skin like snow. You caught a whiff of Rosemary, and was that mint? It was freshly tilled from the ground.

“I have questions.” She said.

She showed no signs of leaving, and you didn’t’ want her to. Though, she obstructed your view of the hostess and therefore, your manager, Gary. So, you gestured, asking her wordlessly to take a seat on the bench next to you.

Kate’s confidence faltered, but she delicately lifted her dress from the floor and lowered herself onto the bench next to you. There was a certain heat about her, one that you could feel as she stared down at the keys, at your touch moving across them with ease.

You could feel her stare on the side of your face, burning, making your stomach do flips that threatened your composure. It didn’t’ seem to matter which universe you were in; 616, 2099, 219 and hundreds more- Kate was always there. She was always disarming and part of that infuriated you.

“Do me a favor, will you?”

Kate furrowed her brow but lifted her chin. There was a quiet contemplation about her, one that warmed your skin. She looked magnificent in that dress, show-stopping. Each wandering eye from the patrons of the restaurant had nothing to do with you, or the music. She had captivated everyone in the room.

“Slowly- F sharp, then B flat and C.”

Kate scoffed “I can’t keep time.”

“I’ve seen the callouses on your hands. You can keep time. What is it? Violin?”

“Almost, the cello.” Kate pressed the first note, and then the other two. She listened to what you played and matched the rhythm with one hand. The other ran over the stitching of her dress. “I didn’t come here to play, Y/n.”

“And I didn’t’ come here to talk, it seems that we’re at an impasse.”

Kate clenched her jaw. You gave her a smirk and settled into the last notes of the song. A few seconds to pull your shoulders back and you began to shift the mood of the room with the soft crescendos. “Alright. Ask your questions. I’ll answer them.”

“Truthfully?”

You hummed “If I can. Silence will speak wonders.”

“Right. Okay. Fine.” Her voice lowered to nothing but a whisper, a warmth against your cheek. “You’re Spiderman.”

“That is not a question Kate. That is a statement.”

“I’m getting there. You’re Spiderman, but Peter is Spiderman. I’ve lived with him for three years, that’s not something you can hide. And then suddenly, there you are, in a really… I mean, the suit is nice, the colors are- wow- but you’re not Pete.”

“I’m failing to see the question.”

“You’re infuriating, you know that?”

You smiled at her “Yes.”

She grumbled and crossed her arms over her chest, drawing in a deep breath before she continued. Gary was eyeing you from the host stand, a furrow to his brow. You nodded at him, and he moved his attention down to his clipboard.

“Have you ever considered different worlds?” You asked.

“I’ve interacted with a talking raccoon who is surprisingly adept at disassembling a cherry red 1970 Dodge Challenger. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

You laughed, and her cheeks matched the exterior of the car for just one moment before she grimaced and returned to her composure. She stared at you expectantly as you finished the last of your song. Your hands lingered on the keys, but you didn’t start another one. Instead, you stood, took the jar off the top of the piano.

Kate watched you expectantly as you held your hand out to her, lifting both eyebrows. Your shift was over, and even if it wasn’t, you were sure you’d leave with Kate if she asked you to. Explaining something like this, you’d done it a million times to a million different Kate’s but it always made your heart scream inside your chest all the way to your fingertips.

She took your hand, the warmth was overwhelming. You led her outside, the jar tucked under your arm and the city lights boring down on wet pavement. For a few moments, the two of you walked aimlessly- much too overdressed for your surroundings. There was too much in the air, and somehow, never enough.

“Every single decision that we make has consequences, has chain reactions. And each time we make a choice there is a world out there that plays out in succession.” You shoved your hands into your coat pockets, breath steaming in front of you. “There’s a world where we are still sitting together at the piano. There’s one where my manager Gary fired me for talking to you in the first place.”

“I think I get it.” Kate nudged you with her shoulder, “But that doesn’t explain how you made it here. Isn’t there some type of cosmic consequence that comes with this kind of thing?”

“Typically, yes. If you were to meet the Kate from earth 20368, then things are bound to explode. She was a nice girl, by the way. Kind of reckless. But things don’t work the same way for me. I’m an anomaly. There’s only one of me.”

“You’ve lost me.” Kate stopped, pressing the tips of her fingers against her temple. “We’ll circle back to the ‘was’ you threw in there.”

“I’m sorry” You chuckled, “I’ve done this hundreds of times, and it still doesn’t get any easier. I’m originally from Earth 2099. It’s a reality that’s much like this one, but sort of… Frankensteined from all of the other earths. There was a man there, a scientist, a geneticist, that flew a little too close to the sun. Hence me. Hence my whole family.” 

Kate parted her perfectly painted lips to say something, but you didn’t’ give her a chance. Instead, you dug through the change in your pocket, forking over two crumpled dollars to a greasy looking man behind a peddled cart. You could smell the salty aroma of hotdogs topped with sauerkraut and mustard.

“Thank you, Benny” you said, passing Kate one of the hot dogs, wrapped in a coffee filter. She took it without question and you dropped the rest of the change in your pocket into his tip jar before the two of you fell into a perfect silence.

“I can’t tell what bothers me more. The use of Frankenstein as a verb, or the fact that you talk in riddles. It’s all very confusing.” Kate took a bite of her hotdog and moaned with pleasure “Jesus, this is a delicacy.”

“I don’t mean to talk in riddles, you know? The answers you crave aren’t straight forward. There’s still a lot of that I’m trying to figure out too. A lot of unspoken rules. Things that I would have changed if I had the chance.”

You took a bite of your own hotdog, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. Kate was watching you, her deep stare moved to the corner of your lip. She tentatively, gently, used the side of her thumb to wipe away a bout of condiment. It took everything in you not to sigh into her touch, to pull her in for a lengthened hug and breathe I her scent.

There was a pressure below your eyes, a sadness that you at to blink away. There was a sudden interest in your shoes and the way they weren’t built for the wet streets of New York. You whispered “You’re not my Kate.”

“I’m sorry, I overstepped I shouldn’t have-“

“No, no. It’s fine. Really.” You drew in a cold breath, one that burned your throat “On my earth, the one that I’m meant to be in, the one that I was created in, there was a Kate Bishop. We grew up together, laughed together, cried together, loved together.”

Kate’s voice was nothing more than air “what happened to her?”

“She died, in my arms she died. Was stubborn until the end about it too.”

 You frowned and threw the rest of your food into the nearest trashcan, not having much of an appetite anymore.

“I was engineered in a lab, much like my brother and sister and every single person around me. I wasn’t meant to fall in love, but you made it difficult not to. I had a falling out with my father, and he’s a man of science over anything else.”

“So, he killed me? Her?”

You swallowed the cold lump in your throat again and nodded. The tips of your fingers were numb with the weather, so you shoved them back into your pocket and watched as the beginning of rain began to fall. It distorted the reflection of traffic lights against the pavement.

“You have to understand, Kate. I ran away from 2099, stole the tech from my father’s lab and ensured that he couldn’t track me. My plan, it was to hide out in whatever world it took me to. I would grow old and die in solitude, have a normal life that I wasn’t engineered to have.

“But you were there, and there was color to your cheeks, and you were smiling. After I got over the shock, I decided to leave, go to whatever earth the device spits me out into. And there you were again, and again, until finally- I realized that wherever I went, some version of you would be there, and the same version of me was still hopelessly, undyingly, in love with you.”

“This is…” Kate frowned, got that same crease between her brows that you wanted to smooth out each time. “A lot to process, and that hot dog is about to make a second appearance.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I know.” You groaned, for a moment, staring up at the stars that mixed so delicately with the falling rain. “When I told you on Earth 181 you threw up over the side of the Brooklyn bridge.”

“Oh, nice. After that?”

You shrugged, looking back down at your feet “After that you pretended like none of it mattered. Which I’m not expecting you to do. Trust me, I’ve tried avoiding you, Kate. In every universe I’ve jumped to, I do everything in my power to keep myself away from you.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel fantastic.”

“You know what I mean. There are times when I think, I know that your life would be better without me in it. Meddling, existing. But during those times where I didn’t seek you out, you would find me. Kind of like tonight.”

“I… Couldn’t help myself.” She resigned “I’ve seen a million different masked heroes and have no desire to lift those masks, to find out their secret identities and insert myself into their lives. But it was different with you. It was magnetic.”

“I know, I get it.”

“So, what do we do now, then?”

“You do nothing.” You told her, lifting your chin. You watched the way her eyes moved with confusion and curiosity, the way her chest rose and fall with each breath she took. She was cold, so you pulled your jacket off and draped it carefully over her shoulders. Kate seemed to sigh into it, content for only a moment. “And I leave.”

#Request #Kate Bishop x reader #Kate Bishop x y/n #Kate Bishop x gn reader #Kate Bishop #Hawkeye #Hawkeye fanfiction #spider man

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here's a 1925 chateau that looks like a castle in Waite Hill, Ohio. 6bds, 10ba, $4.425M.

It has a very castle-like entrance foyer. Like the stone, brick, and wood combo. That display shelf is unusual, too. Very nice.

Unfortunately, the home is empty and the realtor chose to use obviously Photoshopped furniture. But, let's focus on the architectural details like the coffered ceiling and the cool black fireplace in the sitting room. Really, I think it would look better empty.

This is a lovely sunroom that's an extension of the kitchen. The shape and color of the wood, plus the carved details and paned windows make it so attractive. Ignore the stupid modern Photoshopped furniture.

The large kitchen is wonderful- features a gorgeous stove with a stone backsplash and Medieval style hood. Love the huge carved island, light fixtures and detailed ceiling.

Beautiful counters, tile backsplash and gothic style upper doors.

This is nice- dark wood, detailed coffered ceiling, and a stone fireplace that looks like it's made with boulders.

Love that they used different woods in each room. Homes with the same wood throughout get boring and matchy-matchy. This game room is beautiful. Look at the details on the doors.

And, here, we have a large 2 lane bowling alley. Fantastic. And, it's a part of the family room.

Love the black and white ceiling in the huge primary bedroom. There's a sunroom area for sitting and relaxing, plus spiral stairs to a space above.

Here's the sitting area w/o the fake furniture and it looks much better.

Isn't this fabulous? A gorgeous secret hideout in the bedroom. This is so beautiful, it's the top of the tower. Note the details on the stair railing.

Gorgeous marble en-suite with a separate tub room features a copper clawfoot tub.

Castle hardware with amber glass door knobs.

Love the color of the wood and the shape of this hall.

The details in this home are stunning. Beautiful ceiling and railing. Plus, the piece on the left must be a built-in with a marble top.

Beautiful secondary bedroom with a lovely ceiling and large window seat also feature carved doors on the cabinet.

This bedroom is different- it's a more modern style with regular walls, but the ceiling is great and so is the long window seat. It might be part of the guest apt.

Another stunning bedroom. The woodwork in this house is superb. This fireplace wall is just beautiful. Look at the carved frame molding around it.

Every bedroom has something new and beautiful to offer.

Gorgeous marble and wood in this full bath.

Modern family room in the finished attic.

This amazing home is on 14.15 acres and features a pond, but no pool. There is a golf course just beyond the trees. In addition, there's a private ski slope that is already wired for a ski lift, full court basketball court, and guest apt.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/7265-Markell-Rd-Waite-Hill-OH-44094/34501560_zpid/

#chateau #castle home #midnight dreamer home #houses #house tours #home tour

[atc-tatiana]

Yandere Hoodie xreader

Just you and me, Dancing together.

Warning: blood, and talk about holes on your body.

You were looking at the window of the kitchen, the pouring rain was making everything so foggy. But still you wish you could just get out there and enjoy everything about the rain. Even if it made you sick you still wanted to smell the air. You shook your head and continued trying to opening a jar of mayonnaise. With only one hand, the other hand was in a cast. Because of Toby’s outburst from yesterday left you with your non dominant hand broken. So you got to do almost everything, you just forgot how you needed two hands to do certain things. But you had to forgive him before he broke your other hand. You push the mayonnaise jar close to you stomach as you pulled the top off of the jar.” Fucking finally.”you took the spoon and spread the mayonnaise on you toast bread and place a pice of ham that was left over from yesterday feast. You closed the mayonnaise jar again and put it on the refrigerator. You took your poorly prepared sandwich with you to the table close to the window.

You took a bite of your sad sandwich. But something felt off to you like someone was watching you. You turned you head to the living room. Your heart stopped, there in the half cut wall you could see Hoodie. With blood running down his face, with a price gaze that would kill you just by looking at you. You shivered as you gulped down the piece of sandwich, down. You got up and went over to Hoodie, you took his cold bloody hand onto your warm hand. You wanted to throw up as the copper smell reached your nose. You made him sit down on the seat you were just in, and walked towards the kitchen cabinet. You went in you knees as you open the cabinet down on the sink. Your hand took the alcohol and some bandages. You place both objects up in the sink. You reached out for the cotton ball package. You then threw the package on to the sink and got up. You weakly and painfully took those three objects and made your way towards Hoodie. You open the alcohol bottle and took one of the cotton ball and pour some of the alcohol.You backed away from Hoodie as he took off his yellow hood. His whole right arm seem to be slashed open, with what it seem like bite marks. Blood was running down his arm and onto the kitchen table. You dabble the soak alcohol cotton ball on the large wound. You had to take breaks from looking at his wounds, those holes weren’t making thing better. And when you ran the cotton ball through his wounds, you could feel every bump and shape. But nonetheless you continued to cleaned his arm, so you could be finished with this torture already.

You put the last cotton ball on the table, and looked over the bandages. You sighed as you needed both hands for warping his arm. You looked up at him and he looked at you. But it seems he know about your problem. You got up fast knocking the wooden chair back. But you were stopped by his hand gripping your free arm. You know he wanted something and like always you had to obey. You slowly turned to look at him. His hand letting go as you sat down on the chair. You watched him getting up and walking back where you last saw him. He got a white heavy plastic bag that had a familiar smell.” I got your favorite.”Hoodie whispered as he place down the food next to you. Your eyes watched as he sat back down, moving his chair even more closer to you.” Uh thank you, but you really didn’t have to.”You said trying to sound nice and not like you were trying to scream at him. You opened the plastic box and picked up the fork and start to eat. You could watch him bandage his arm on the corner of your eye.

You looked towards your food as he hissed in pain. You took a huge bite of your food and looked up the window where it still was raining. Well pouring gallons of water down the earth. You let out a big sigh as you watched the outside rain fogged up the view. How you wish you could go back to normal, where you appreciated your freedom. Where every choice was yours to do. And not to fear every little thing that you do.

You shudder as you felt both his hands grip your neck, his thumbs pressing on the back of your ear. Your head leaning backwards, unwilling your breath got heavier.” Come.”Hoodie voice was threatening. His hands slowly moved away from you, letting you get up from your seat. His hand took you by your shoulders, guiding you to the center of the living room. The creaking sound of the burning wood, along with the rain almost made you think this was all a dream. His hands snaking around your back, felt almost made you lean against his chest. His head move against your neck, his lips lightly kissing your neck. He hummed a soft tone, as he rocked your body side to side. It made you forget about your messy situation.”You miss going outside~?”Hoodie slurred his words as he kissed your jaw. Gosh how you wanted to say yes, that you missed going outside. And how you missed smelling the fresh air.

“Yes, hoodie. I miss being able to go outside.”You said whispering. Hoodie nuzzled his nose on the back of your neck. His lips peaking your tender neck so smoothly. Your body shiver as your breath hitched up.” Tell me everything you want~ it’s fine I can listen to you rent about anything that is troubling your mind.”Hoodie smelled your hair as his grip tightened. You were on your tippy toes as you felt his lips tracing your jaw all the way to your lips.” It’s fine baby~ it’s just you and me. Dancing together.”

#creepypasta x reader #yandere creepypasta #hoodie x reader #masky x reader #ticci toby #creepypasta masky #hoodie marble hornets #tim masky #obsessive Hoodie xreader

[goatwithaplan]

Its interesting to me how the atma avatars were made to look like their human counterparts. For me the most obvious example is Roland, not only can you see the similarities in the color with Indra being a bit more saturated, but you can also see how the jacket cooralates to the copper (skirt?) thingie. Another feature you can point out its that indra its the god of storms and the desing of indra has cooper as its main color, which can be associated with electricity. But also works well with the more normal personality Roland has respect the rest of the characters.

You can actually make these associations with most of the cast

The shape of the hood of Gale makes it look similar to vayu's head, but also the insect styled poncho goes really well with how odd Gale is at the beggining of the games. You can see how they wanted not only to represent the character but also their personalities. Same goes for Cielo here, the rainbow color relates with the more child like personality, and the wings on his legs can be seen in the bags he wears near his thighs.

Obviously the colors too are the colors of their elements, but Cielo is bright all around, and Gale is only green in the poncho while keeping the sterile grey underneath. Again it points to their personalities, bright blue is fun and sterile grey is flat and boring.

You could go on and on with these but something that always bothered me, Argilla's avatar to me doesn't really work like that. Okay so the demon is more femenine well okay, is Argilla's personality being a woman? Nah lets take a deeper look. Brown camo pattern yeah fits the earth element, can it be coorelated with Argilla's personality and traits, not really. I think the bright red extensible arms and face are more like it, but for me doesn't really makes the cut , acording to my roomate the arms look like her hair, but i dont really see it. However the red color clearly fits argilla's emotional and strong personality. But why is the demon so spiky? Is it because its a demon? maybe with the red they went for the rose look ? i honestly have no idea what they were going for here

Then there is the mouth breast, You have NO FUCKING CLUE how much i hate these, with Heat id argue that 2 mouths are because he has like the big hunger™, he likes to eat people so he gets 2 mouths, for better eating experience. But what does mouth breast do here for the desing, so like its the inverse of what boobs do? so like an ironic thing, because she in the lore is also supposed to be a mother. They are also kinda in a unconfortable spot to eat and it fits the idea that Argilla doesnt enjoy the cannibalism thingie. But other than that i just think they are for sock value, like look at the demon its demonic, which would also explain the spikes and maybe the weird arms. I just dont really get it.

OH AND VARNANI ALSO EXIST, i just dont want to get into that mess

#dds #ddsat #digital devil saga #megaten #smt #shin megami tensei

[citruscloudsandmoon]

Lawmane Day 05: Ephemeral

An excerpt from a unpublished fanfic which I have been working on in a very non-serious fashion. Translation: I have completely ignored the story 🥲

Thought to share it here because it fits the theme( I think? 😅). Hope you like it 🌻.

Heart-Stopper

One set finally caught Misa’s eye. It was a traditional canopy bed, the wood in color of black, its fittings that of copper hue. There was light intricate carving on the edges of its headboard, giving the whole thing a grand look. It was simply beautiful.

Unable to help herself, Misa lightly tapped the fingers against the wood, loving the soft clacking sounds it made. Net curtains will most definitely look much better than the satin ones, she decided, fingering the fabric draped over the frame.

Misa turned “Ryuzaki what do you……….”

She couldn’t complete the question. She wasn’t able to.

Ryuzaki was lying on the bed alright, except not normally. He appeared to be sunk amidst the sheets and fluffy pillows, arms and legs struck out in odd angles.

“Ryuzaki!” Misa loudly exclaimed, rushing towards his side at once.

“It’s alright Miss Amane! I can get out” Ryuzaki assured but Misa thought otherwise.

“Didn’t I tell you not to test them Ryuzaki?! Look at you! You are struck!” Misa cried out, clearly dismayed.

“I can assure you Miss Amane, I am not” Ryuzaki insisted, still struggling.

The blonde shook her head. Putting down her bag, she briskly marched toward the bouncy bed and reached for Ryuzaki’s arm. Grasping it firmly with both her hands, she tried pulling him.

Being light weighted she should have known better that it wasn’t going to work out.

“Woah!” Misa yelped, feeling her feet leaving the wooden floor instantly. It happened so fast. One minute she was standing. In the next moment, she found herself lying on top of Ryuzaki.

Ryuzaki let out a loud gasp. The impact wasn’t hard but it was sudden. It took him by surprise.

Misa heard him for then she started apologizing profusely. “Sorry sorry Ryuzaki! Misa didn’t mean to land on you!"

“It’s okay Miss Amane, you were only trying to help…….”

“But you got hurt! And……ooff!” Misa’ elbow slipped, making her cut off her speech. Dammit! The hell was wrong with bed? it won’t stay still!

Misa tried rolling but it only made her sunk further in the mattress.

“Miss Amane, stop rolling! You are only making it worst!” ‘Worst?! They wouldn’t be here at the first place if Ryuzaki didn’t jumped on them! Misa thought furiously.

Digging her nails on the blanket, Misa lifted herself to retort to Ryuzaki’ statement. It was only then she realized just how close they were to each other.

Ryuzaki had braced his palms on the duvet, holding himself from making any possible movement. The position would have looked comical if it weren’t for Ryuzaki breathing heavily, gazing at her with hooded gaze, fringes slightly ruffled.

That familiar warm feeling which dropped by earlier this afternoon returned at once. Only this time, it came back with much force.

A shirt slipped from Ryuzaki’s neck, exposing his one side of the collarbones. Misa blushed at the sight. She had seen numerous man shirtless before, both in real and in media. And yet Misa was going red like there was no tomorrow.

Calm yourself Misa, calm yourself Goddamit! She scolded to herself inwardly. It was difficult to think of anything else when all she was thinking of was Ryuzaki’s exposed neck and just how pale and sturdy it appeared. Her fingers were itching to run on his clavicle, wondering about its smoothness.

Before her body could take the decision for her, Ryuzaki all of a sudden flipped their sides, pining her hands above her head with his hands and her legs with his shins.

Misa was now under Ryuzaki. It couldn’t get any more awkward than this.

She was petrified. And so was Ryuzaki, who after pining Misa to the bed didn’t know what to do now.

Someone cleared a throat. Misa and Ryuzaki looked up and saw Ken, the salesperson who now was no longer smiling but was looking at them expressionless, his lips pursed as if he had swallowed a lemon.

“Getting comfy are we? Maceo does tend to have that effect” He commented, his tone uncharacteristically cold and formal.

Sinkholes popped around in Japan every now and then. Misa wished one would pop around here too so that she could disappear in the ground along with bed. This was beyond embarrassing.

#death note #l lawliet #L #Misa Amane #Lawmane #Lxmisa #l x misa #Lawmane week 2023 #Lawmane Day 05: Ephemereal #Sharing an excerpt? I know....very lazy effort but oh well 🥲🤡 #Otp: I think I just met my wife #Line: I could fall for you #Your honour! They are both clowns in love but don't know yet ❤️

[thatshinx]

lmk eye headcannons

MK: wide eyes, mono lid, downturned lashes  that are basically invisible without mascara (which he doesn’t own), under eyes are a little puffy, epicanthal fold, eyebags, irises used to be super dark but they lightened after he started using Monkey kid powers. By season four they are more a copper color, they turn yellow when using his gold vision, eyebags that would go away if only he slept better.

Pigsy: slightly downturned protruding eyes with pitch large pitch black irises and pupils long downturned lashes, a small double lid, a sharp inner corner, and eye bags that don’t leave with sleep

Tang: hooded eyes, a mono lid, dark brown irises that look amber in the sun, soft inner corner, and he gains deep smile lines when he smiles

Mei: upturned hooded eyes, double lid, sharp inner corner, upturned lashes, natural aegyo sal, almost black irises but in the sun you can see some brown, her pupils are actually slit but it’s hard to see,

Wukong : the widest upturned eyes, double lid, long upturned lashes, sharp inner corner eyes glow in the dark. with Glamor: orangish yellow sclera, no irises, light yellow pupils. without glamor: red sclera, no irises, bright yellow pupils. Can make eyes glow yellow.

Macaque: almond downturned eyes, double lid, sharp inner corner, long lashes but not to the extent of Wukong that are just slightly downturned. With glamor: dull yellow iris that takes up most of eye (whites of eyes can be seen when he looks to the sides or opens eyes real wide), extremely light yellow pupil. Without glamor: one eyes the same the other is a milky white due to injury. Also his eyes glow purple when using a lot of power

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk mk #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk mei #lmk headcanon #I really like eyes #i just think they're neat #also assume everyone has black lashes cause y’know… #Black hair. #Also Sun Wukong has black lashes cause look at him in the show #Also I have no mental vision of Sandy’s eyes for some reason. #Like I try to envision them and all I see is a zoomed in image of his eyes in the show #I’d love to hear any other thoughts on lmk eyes #Let’s make it a discussion

[rainslices]

long time no update!! (what i've been up to, new project, etc)

hellaur tumblr people... it has been a while since i've written a proper update on things I MEAN, WELL, if you follow me on twitter, you would probably already have heard! but before i get into that, i first want to welcome all ye who recently followed. congrats for finding my tumblr!!! either that or you probably came from twitter. whichever route you took, be careful... because once you check in, you can never check out muahahahaha!!!

ON [JACKHAMMERED]...

first, look at this, i recently made a placeholder icon for jackham's itch io page!!! (it's currently an unpublished draft though)

this isn't even the final thing, but it still somehow slaps. why did i make a placeholder icon? it's to replace the old one, which was this

BLEGGH. i went ahead and made a better one, even if i'm the only person who can see it in its unpublished state LMAO. anyways. where am i now with [JACKHAMMERED], you may ask! good question over these past couple months, i've managed to draft a bunch of documents consisting mostly of worldbuilding and character essays. the jackham google drive has a total of (counts my fingers and toes) twelve docs, that's right, TWELVE, currently marinating in the drive. i didn't even know i had it in me! though here lies the problem- out of all these charming character profiles and location docs, only two of them are a 'plot doc'. two, 'cause the first one became half-finished and the vibes were just off whenever i came back to it, and the second one went a lil farther than half, but still suffered a similar fate.

in shorter words, i'm stumped. and i can certainly pinpoint it to not being able to narrow down jackham's scope. i know i want this game to be something great, something that is a culmination of all its wonderful inspirations, but my mind is in a constant tug of war between wanting it to be a chapter-by-chapter thing, or just one full game. it leaves me feeling scatterbrained and unfocused. and even if i DID know what i want, it still feels... well, big. my general plans for jackham feel ambitious for someone who's swan diving into renpy with 0 knowledge. im just one guy ! and so my solution to that is...

i'm making [In The Middle]

NOW I KNOW HOW IT LOOKS LIKE "another VN? but chaurchey ur already stumped writing for jackhammered, how can you possibly write for this one?!" the difference is that i feel comfortable in narrowing things down if i start fresh. i still want to work with the initial ideas i have for jackhammered, but i'm putting it away for now until i feel ready. at least with In The Middle, i hope to apply the experience i've gained and tackle jackham again. i'm sure boel, olned, and kade can wait for me in a couple of months. maybe more. so what exactly is [In The Middle]? picture this: the sun is slowly sinking, with you finally reaching the gate of your house after a long day. your plans upon touchdown consist of only two things: microwave dinner, and a well-deserved nap. but you would quickly forget them when a flash of light temporary blinds you- and now there’s a hooded stranger on your lawn; you have but four days to find out who they are and where they came from, before the inert copper megaminx in their possession becomes active once more. a newfound friend, a stranger, or perhaps something more; only you get to decide. "In The Middle" is a test game that's precedent to the production of [JACKHAMMERED]. the story will be separate, short, and non-canon (maybe! who knows!). it's mostly for me to test the waters so i can properly bite off what i can chew for jackham, while also having the freedom of experimenting! two characters and one outcome, but the choices you make affect the way it's delivered (nods nods). this feels like a scale i can work with, and i've already pumped out a bunch of concepts in a separate drive which makes me really excited to do this!! it just occurred to me how much the isekai concept keeps bouncing around in my head rent free, but with In The Middle, the opposite more or less happens. Pieve gets isekai'd to you

who the hell is Pieve

TADAAAA!!! meet Pieve, that very stranger whom that portal puked out into your lawn. naked and afraid, so to speak. and oh, the beauty of concept art... i take pride in the fact that their design isn't even final yet as i've got more things in mind i want to tweak before i give this chochi spawn the Chochi Seal of Approval. aaaaand i'm gonna leave it at that so i don't spoil stuff. after all, learning about them is the goal. writing sure is HARD. but god, so is reading. so if you sped-run and skimmed through the entire update post up to here, well done!!! i would've done the same!!! this took hours to write but i'm glad to just get this out of the way because my followers on here deserve an update too. in closing, i'd like to mention just how much i am proud of myself. not just with the progress i've made for this idea so far, but with just. everything. if you told the me from 11 months ago that i would all of a sudden be into making games, i would have not believed you. but here we are, trajectory of life changed and all! i hope you can look forward to [In The Middle], and soon enough, [JACKHAMMERED].

#not art #jackhammered vn #in the middle vn #game dev #i thought i would write more but tbh this is as short and sweet as it can get #i was working on my carrd and updating my socials #it kind of snowballed into making this update post after realising midway through updating my itch io page #which is all good for viewing btw! rainslices dot itch dot io #in other news im glad In The Middle and Jackham are getting warm reception on twitter #it's all the motivation i need to keep going cuz you know my mama all about raising a people pleaser!!!!!!!!! /lh

[aerodaltonimperial]

I'm late to this party but I am predictable so will you give me a bloody 💚🧡 kiss, please?

(💚🧡)

His arm is cut—bleeding from the windshield. The windshield he threw Jack into. The windshield he’s still got pieces of in his arm when he gets backstage with the belt back in his hands; medical pulls the shards out with metal pliers, and Hook sits. He sits, and he waits.

Jack takes longer to get back. He’s limping, favoring his right leg. It’s always the worst when things are this: when things have gotten so awful, devolved so poorly, and yet you’re both stuck being checked over at the same time. Most people just don’t look at each other. Angle their chins away. Hook’s not most people.

He stares at Jack the whole time, watching as the man in the med red wipes the blood off his back and pokes at his muscles. Jack’s got his fingers pressed up against his neck where Hook’s arm pressed in, hard enough to cut off his airflow. He’s absentmindedly running his fingertips across the skin that will bruise, a rainbow within the week.

Hook waits until the polo shirt leaves, and then he pushes up, walks over, and sits in front of Jack, trapping him against the wall. Another time, Jack would probably deck him. But as it stands, Jack’s too exhausted to do anything more than glare, and it’s not even heated. His eyes are hooded. There are circles beneath, dark like he hasn’t slept in a a week, like the FTW belt was the only shit still holding him together.

They stare at each other for a long while, and then finally, Hook sniffs. “You okay?”

“No,” Jack says, and that might be the most honest thing he’s said in fucking months. When Jack’s tongue slips out, it’s red. Too red. Either his teeth came down on it at some point during their match, or he bit the inside of his lip. Whatever the case, there’s blood.

“Was it that important to you?” Hook asks. It’s the only time he’s been able to. At first, Jack just ran, and then, he fought, scrappy, a wounded animal lashing out. “Was it worth losing everything for?”

Jack’s face pulls wide, a grimace. He tears his gaze away. “When I had the belt…I could pretend that I had what I wanted.”

“What did you want that wasn’t the damn belt?”

Jack doesn’t answer. Can’t, or won’t, and honestly, with Jack, sometimes it’s one and the same. Finally, Hook gets it. If he’s being truthful with himself, he’s suspected for awhile, but when everything shook out, he just couldn’t pin it down. And then he’d been angry, so fucking angry. He’s not really angry anymore. All the rage has been siphoned clean out of him.

Hook reaches for Jack’s chin to straighten his head. Doesn’t really give him much time to react, afraid that Jack’s instincts will shift into panic. He just leans in, presses their mouths together. He tastes copper from the blood lodged in the corner of Jack’s lips. Hook kisses him, and thinks he probably should have been doing this all along.

Jack exhales, a stuttered sort of gasp. “Hook.”

But his limbs unfurl—his hands slide to Hook’s elbows, biceps, as he shifts closer, pushing in. His mouth parts because he gives back as good as he gets, just like he always has. This seems like a much better way to channel everything: settled. Sighing into place. This, Hook can lose himself in. Fighting carries its own kind of high, but it can’t compare to Jack’s mouth moving against his.

“Hey,” comes a voice from beside them, and they jerk apart. Kenny’s expression isn’t mad or shocked, really, but kind of just…amused. “Take it to the locker room, kids.”

“Sorry,” Hook mumbles. He’s managed to still make a mess of things even when he finally sorted everything out somehow. There are so many people milling around them. Kenny is, miraculously, blocking the two of them from most people’s views. Small favors. Hook owes him now.

“It’s all good,” Kenny says. “I’ve been there. But, you know…” He shrugs a little. “Doors.”

“Yeah,” Jack whispers, staring at the wall. He doesn’t look back, not even after Kenny walks away with that same amused smile on his face.

Hook grabs for Jack’s wrist, fingers curling around the knob of bone, and then he stands. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” But Jack gets up, lets himself be led away.

“Somewhere with a door.”

#Tag so you don't lose this shit #Babiiiieeeeessss

[queenpiranhadon]

♕ ⎸⎸𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 ⎸⎸ ♕

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fuzzysoulyt!! The HCH fit me and Nyota were writing is on hiatus, but we wanted to drop the prologue for your birthday :) This was written by me, along with an old oc. Looks like Luna and Lucas aren't the only children of the Nocturne family.. Here's my masterlist! Dividers by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Child neglect, child labor (?), mean parents, idk what else

Pairing(s): None :)

With the land on one side and the sea on the other… 

Curious eyes looked around the pavilion as a sweet melody trickled out from a trio of young girls at the center of it all. Two of them carried instruments, one on the harp and the other on something that resembled a long necked banjo. But the smallest of the three captivated everyone’s attention. As the older two began to pluck at their strings, the youngest started to sing a bittersweet tune. 

I may not miss my ma, but I’ll miss you, brother. 

Everyone in the bustling area stool still, whether they were buying goods or selling them, playing with their friends or watching over the child that was, or even the stray dogs that trotted around for scraps would stop to listen. 

But I cannot live in a land I don’t call home, a home where I don’t belong. 

The little girl sang, and sang to her heart’s content, her voice smooth and alluring like a siren’s song. Slowly but surely, people started crowding the three girls, transfixed by their small harmony, nobles and peasants alike. A few even emptied their pockets to surface a few copper coins that they placed at the trio’s feet. 

So, forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused, forgive me and move on. 

By now there was a small pile of coins at their feet, copper, silver and gold alike, as the sun slowly but surely set beneath the horizon in the distance. But the crowd was simply unable to move, unable to leave this sad little song, but whether it was because of  pity, or personal attachment, no one would ever know.  

Because it’s the world out there that’s meant for me, not the life I’ve been forced to live. 

By now it was pitch black, only the stars and moon were there for light as all the lanterns had gone out due to lack of maintenance, but the moonlight still shone upon the three girls, as if it wanted to hear their song too. The banjo’s notes glided along, providing the somber tone the song implied, but the harp played a happier tune, one that complimented the melody but still showed a mood that was wild and free.  

And everyone’s accusing me of taking, but I’ve got nothing but my name to give. 

Two figures wove their way through the crowd sitting silently in that back, but just enough so that the performers could see them. But everyone around them didn’t notice, still transfixed, as the song came to its closing verses. 

My only regret is the hearts that I broke, the mistakes that I never forgave. 

The harp plucked out one last melody, as did the banjo, leaving the last time acapella. The audience went eerily silent, awaiting the last line, and finally the little girl looked at the two figures in the back, with a glint in her eye. 

But now what are you going to do, when I finally lay down in my grave. 

She finished with a cadence from the harp, before plastering a smile on her face, beaming out to the audience.  

“Thanks for meeting with us tonight! We are the Nocturne Triplets, and we hope to see you again!” 

The three bowed in sync, something that seemed unnervingly practiced to the suspicious eye, but everyone was too busy applauding them and talking amongst themselves to notice. And once they finally dispersed, the two figures approached them, throwing back their hoods to reveal the same raven hair and pastel eyes that the trio shared.  

“You three did good. Perhaps we can have a nice soup and a roast for supper today. Lucille, I expect nothing better from you, you were magnificent as usual.” The female said, acknowledging the tallest, who clutched her banjo tightly, flinching slightly at the name but sending the two a wry smile. 

“Lunarella, your harp skills are getting sloppy, so you are not allowed to leave the house until you master Sencen’s 6th Symphony by tomorrow at sundown,” the male chastised, matching the frown the middle child in question sent him. 

“And Lumira.” The woman looked at the youngest with distaste. “Keep that attitude in check.” 

And with that, the two filled their pockets with the hard earned coin the sisters had earned and began to walk away, calling for Lucille to follow, not bothering about the other two.  

Lumira was quick to follow, running up to her parents, irritated, stepping in front of them to block their path home.  

“What about us?” she asked, throwing her hands up. 

The male quirked an eyebrow. “What on earth are you talking about?”  

“Our pay! We worked hard to earn that coin; don’t we deserve our own share?” 

The two looked at each other before bursting out in laughter, a cruel sound really.  

“Oh, Lumira,” the female said with false concern. “The only thing you’re good for is your voice.” 

And with that they pushed her aside without an afterthought, leaving Lucille and Luna to comfort their sister, whose eyes bubbled with furious tears that threatened to spill out.  

The three walked home, hand in hand, after their parents, but Lumira vowed that they would get that they deserved. She didn’t know how, but her parents were rats, people who do what they want to get their hands on coin. The sisters weren’t even triplets, Lunarella and Lucille were twins, and Lumira was born two years after, but they called themselves triplets for what their parents’ called “image”. And Lumira was done with lying, she was tired of it.  

And that day was the day she promised herself no one would take advantage of her and her sisters again. 

#high class homos lucas #high class homos luna #high class homos lunarella #lunarella nocturne #luna nocturne #luna high class homos #lunarella high class homos #high class homos #lucas high class homos #lumira nocturne

[ineffable-kelpie]

Robin Hood

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1,116

Prompt: A silent hug

Characters: Elspeth, Wee Morag

-

Elspeth was in for it now. Two years she’d been on the streets, picking pockets, and she’d never had the coppers this close on her tail before. She had the advantage of being smaller than they were, so she could duck and weave and dash between obstacles to lose them. But she hadn’t lost them in the first few seconds, which meant that as they chased her they pointed and yelled, “Thief! Stop him!” and the crowds parted around the fleeing Elspeth. A man grabbed her collar as she passed, and she barely managed to tear herself free and keep running. This was no good. Elspeth was good for short sprints, but not long races like this. If she didn’t lose them fast, she was done for.

She swerved on her heel and ducked into an alley. Not quick enough. The coppers were right behind her. She turned into another narrow alley leading off of that one, but she knew they’d seen her come this way. If she could find someplace to hide—

A small hand waved at her from the shadows between one door and the next. Elspeth had enough sense to recognize help when it was being offered, so she ran for it and grabbed the hand. It pulled her into the shadows as another hand clapped over her mouth. Elspeth’s back was pressed flush against another body, one arm around her waist to hold her still, one hand still pressed over her mouth. “Shh,” said a voice barely above a whisper.

The coppers rounded the corner not a moment later. Elspeth held her breath, staying as still and silent as she knew how. Her rescuer did the same. They were hidden in a tiny gap between two houses, practically invisible unless you knew what to look for. Even Elspeth hadn’t known it was there.

The coppers passed their hiding place and reached the other end of the alley, where it emptied onto the street. “Where’d he go?” said one of them. “The little rat’s given us the slip.”

“Eh, we’ll get him sooner or later,” said the other. “These types don’t know how to quit. He’ll slip up eventually.”

The voices faded. Elspeth dared to breathe again. The arms around her loosened. The person they were attached to would probably be wanting a cut of the purse she’d just lifted. Elspeth knew better than to leave debts unsettled. She stepped away and turned to get a look at her rescuer.

And found herself looking into the face of an angel. Whatever she’d been about to say flew out of her head. Well, she hadn’t expected to go so soon, but if it was her time, so be it. Funny, she always thought they’d send someone from down below to bring her over.

“Are you really a thief?” the angel asked in a hushed voice.

This was a trap. Stealing was a sin, and lying was a sin, so there wasn’t any answer she could give that an angel would approve of. Elspeth kept her mouth shut.

The angel frowned. “Can you speak?”

“Course I can speak,” said Elspeth. “I’d just rather not answer ye.”

The angel let out a small laugh, which turned into a cough. Strange. Angels weren’t supposed to cough. Come to think of it, Elspeth didn’t think angels were normally as dirty and raggedly-dressed as this one, or as thin. Maybe she was just another urchin. An exceptionally pretty urchin. “What did they think you stole?” she asked.

Elspeth hesitated, then pulled out the purse she’d lifted earlier. It would be enough to split between the two of them, and still leave enough for Elspeth to buy dinner. “Nevermind whether I stole it or not.”

The other girl frowned in disapproval. “Stealing is a sin.”

Elspeth laughed. The other girl didn’t. “You’re serious?” said Elspeth. “If it’s such a sin, why’d you help me out, ‘stead of leaving me to the coppers?”

“To give you a chance to make it right.” The other girl reached out and folded Elspeth’s hand back over the purse. “Go find whoever you stole it from, and give it back. Otherwise, it’ll only catch up to you later.”

Elspeth’s face warmed, and she didn’t quite know why. She was much too hungry to worry about what was and wasn’t a sin. But this girl’s disapproval hit harder than she expected. She looked down at her hand, with the purse still in it. She’d be mad to go and give it back, though, after the trouble she’d been through to get it. The rich ponce she’d taken it from probably had ten times as much to draw from. He’d be fine whether she gave his money back or not. But for her and this girl, it could be the difference between life and death. “What about Robin Hood?” Elspeth asked, looking up.

The girl seemed surprised. “What?”

“Robin hood,” Elspeth repeated. “He was a thief. But also a hero. Stealing’s not a sin when he does it, is it?”

“Well…” the girl thought about it. “I suppose not. But he gave away what he stole to those who deserved it more.”

Elspeth nodded decisively and held out the wallet. “You take it, then.”

“What?” the girl tried to back away, but she was already against the wall.

“You’re surely more deserving than I am. I mean, you don’t even steal.” Though how she’d stayed alive on the streets with such a strict moral code was beyond Elspeth. “How long have you been out here?”

“Er…few months.”

“Then you haven’t seen a winter on the streets yet. Trust me, you’ll need this then.”

The girl reached for the wallet, but hesitated. “It’s stolen.”

“I never said whether it was stolen or not, did I?” Elspeth winked and pushed it towards her again. “Go on. Otherwise I’d just keep it for meself, which, as you’ve pointed out, would be a sin.”

Nervously, the girl took the wallet and opened it to see what was inside. Her eyes grew as round as coins. She snapped it shut and looked up at Elspeth. “I’m in your debt.”

Elspeth scoffed. “Hardly. You saved me from prison. I’m just making us even.”

The girl gave Elspeth a confused sort of smile. “What’s your name?”

“Elspeth McKinnon,” she said, with a silly little bow. For some reason, she couldn’t stop beaming. “And you are?”

“Folks call me Wee Morag.”

“Wee Morag,” Elspeth repeated, storing the name away in a way she usually didn’t bother doing. But she had a hope that that name would become important. Silently, she made a promise to Wee Morag: the next time I steal, it��ll be for you.

#good omens fanfic #good omens ficlet #elspeth/wee morag #good omens elspeth #good omens wee morag #using a generous interpretation of 'hug' for several of these #hugfest 2024 #cyankelpie's fic

[full-on-sam]

Peanut butter filling for the chocolate-themed wip ask game! :)

(@eldritch-flower)

Hi and thanks for the ask!!

Peanut Butter Filling: share a snippet that really shows a character’s personality. (or: talk about an upcoming scene where their personality will shine!)

This snippet is for Katz, the first character to get introduced and lowkey my favorite. She is at a brewery in this scene, and she would like to purchase alcohol

The figure, whose name was apparently Katz, ripped the hood of the cloak from its head and looked sternly at the man, gritting her theet. “I said I want a Dreg! So give me one. I can pay like everyone else!” To say she was indignant would have been a euphemism. “And if someone pours me one I'll tell you a thing that you never dreamed of,” she added.

“For sure you can pay, yes. And we know how you get your money.” Laughed another man, a sailor this time, no less drunk than the one who spoke earlier. “It's only because they are filth from Tijara, and you should be well aware of that by now!" Katz started. "'S only fair. They rob us from opportunities, and what's more-” her voice lowered, drowning among laughers. They were mocking her, she realized. Her, and her words, and her animated tone. “Hey, how much for the drink?” She interrupted, yelling again, this time at the brewer, and slamming her fist on the table, to make herself be heard above all the noise and chaos generated by her too serious answer. She took out a rough satchel and started counting the money. She needed that Dreg, and by Ylan, she was going to do everything in her power to get it. “Would be five copper pieces if I had any intention to sell it to ya. But since I will not do anything like that, feel free to put away that satchel,” said the brewer, too busy laughing with the rest to really pay attention to her. Obviously, Katz did no such thing. Instead, she got up, walked to the counter and put the money in front of her. She slid the satchel there too. Then waited. “Wind made you deaf,” said the man again. “No alcohol. Don't wanna hear anything 'bout that illegal money of yours. Plus ya’re no adult. Forget it and leave, kid.” Katz ignored him again, and this time stepped on the counter. “If you wanna hear that story better not listen to this old cretin here. I know a thing you would fall from your seats if you knew. 'N what's best is that no-ne of you’d never guess what it is!” She announced, stomping with her heavy shoes on the flimsy wood beneath her. But before any of the other man could as much as lift a finger in her favour, the brewer grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her forward, suddenly angry. “Take the money and leave.” He said punctuating each word with a loud bang on the counter. “Won't repeat that again. No one here desires to hear your stupid fables. And if you are good and leave now,” he whispered in her ear, his breath smelling so strongly of whiskey and rum, that it made Katz want to throw up. “If you leave now,” he repeated, “I will be kind and I will not call the guards on you.” And with these last words, he pushed her back, with so much force she fell to the ground.

Wip taglist: @sm-writes-chaos, @bluberimufim. Tell me if you want to be added

#creative writing #writing #writeblr #snippet #ask answered #thanks for the ask!

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Fairy Tales Recaps: “The Girl in the Tower”

Hello, everyone! It’s been a long time since I added to this collection. My bad 😬

That’s because—as I mentioned in passing a couple of times while answering asks—I got pretty stuck on recapping this fairy tale. I realized (several weeks after I’d first started) that this was because I wasn’t actually recapping “The Girl in the Tower.” Rather, my thoughts regarding Salem and the implications attached to this short spiraled into a much broader dive into RWBY’s handling of sympathetic villains, particularly the women. Though everything I wrote is relevant to the tale, it got to the point where I was trying to do far too much in an otherwise narrowly defined post, spinning in writing circles until it felt like I didn’t know what I was trying to accomplish anymore.

Eventually I made the painful, but necessary move of scraping everything and starting over. Now, here we are!

Much of what I originally had to say still colors this recap, but let’s actually stick to the fairy tale this time, yeah? In addition, though in the past I’ve done a detailed comparison to Myers’ original story, this time there was so much to cover I didn’t want to get sidetracked again. Outside of a quote or two towards the end, we’re keeping to the adaptation.

Let’s get started!

Ozpin begins the story by summarizing that “a beautiful girl was locked in a tower by her cruel father” and right off the bat we hit one of my biggest problems with this fairy tale as a part of the RWBY-verse: there’s no subversion. There’s no twist, no surprise, not spark of originality here. RWBY markets itself as a fairy tale that plays with other fairy tales and though yes, we’ve discussed as a community how those changes can mean almost anything nowadays (there’s no unifying intention, let alone one that actually functions as a subversion most of the time), but something usually exists to spark viewer interest. Little Red Riding Hood now hunts the wolves herself. In this universe the Tin Man already had, but lost, his heart. Pinocchio still becomes human, but then gives her life less than an hour after achieving that (never established) dream. You get the idea. Even when RWBY is playing with fairy tales in a manner that arguably hurts the story as a whole, it’s still some kind of innovation that might keep the viewer interested, at least for a time. Yet here, “The Girl in the Tower” is as straightforward as any Golden Era Disney film which, while not inherently bad, doesn’t exactly fit RWBY’s marketed appeal. There is a “beautiful girl,” a “cruel father,” the terrible fate of being locked away, and eventually the handsome knight come to save her. There’s admittedly agency in Salem sending her notes (we’ll get to that) and the ways in which this story is colored by our knowledge that she’ll become a villain past her Happy Ending... but the actual fairy tale on its own? It’s as bland and straightforward as they come, made all the worse by giving Salem the means to do something compelling—powerful magic at her fingertips—and simply... not using that. 

As is the trend in this collection, a lackluster tale is made better by the stylistic presentation, particularly when it comes to the backgrounds. We get to see the ruin of Salem’s castle moving backwards to its initial glory—and, notably, looking a whole lot like Beacon Academy. Crush my heart why don’t you—and all the animated gears work like a puppet display, cranking individual pieces into a unified whole. I don’t need to explain to anyone reading this why the gears themselves are significant.

We’re introduced to the King who, in true king fashion, wears a crown. Now, question: is it the same as the Crown of Choice?

I’m honestly not sure. (Bear with me. I promise I don’t need to get my eyes checked.) One would think not given that they’re made of different materials and have different gem stones too. The King’s is silver with some kind of blue jewel, whereas the king from “The Indecisive King”—whom we know did possess the Relic—is copper-y with... emeralds? I’m not going to pretend that I can identify gems in real life, let alone through RT’s animation. The point is that they’re even shaped differently, which should imply that no, there’s no connection between the two.

However, RWBY is also the show that gave us this:

I’ll get into the problems of erasing the SEW’s race in my recap of “The Warrior in the Woods,” but for now it’s just important to note that RT didn’t bother to keep their character consistent between their show and the book that it’s based on, even when this visual connection is the one thing that ties two different mediums together. RWBY is also the webseries that gave us this symbol

alongside this one

yet has now, apparently, insisted that there’s no connection between them. As far as I can tell, this was confirmed during a Reddit AMA back in December of 2021 with Kerry saying, “in hindsight we probably shouldn’t have let some elements be so similar, but no, Jaune and Salem aren’t related” (Lucifer_Crowe). AKA, all us “Jaune is a descendant of Salem with the emblem becoming simplified over the generations” theorists should pack up that idea and move onto something else. A part of me is very revealed by this announcement, mostly because I wasn’t interested in dealing with the fallout of Jaune getting (another) major contribution to the plot. That relief aside though, this admission that “we probably shouldn’t have let some elements be so similar” reinforces the idea that we really can’t trust what we see on screen in RWBY. Very similar emblems (and hair color, eye color, a powerful lineage, to say nothing of Tyrian’s comment) apparently mean nothing. And this is by no means a one-off mistake. There’s no effort made to adapt a canonical illustration. The animators had to scramble to distinguish silver eyes after the writers didn’t consider that gray eyes would look identical. Our last arc gave Ironwood a semblance that provided no noticeable difference in how he was animated once his aura was broken, despite that being a core way for the audience to determine what abilities are or are not influencing the story. In short, as a visual medium the RWBY franchise should encourage a wealth of analysis about the animation itself, but the story is so inconsistent we simply cannot trust that anything we visually pick up on is actually significant. Or, in turn, that a difference means that there’s truly no connection here. Is the crown that adorns Salem’s father’s head the same Relic that caused a previous king so much grief, perhaps providing an explanation for his similarly gaunt appearance and his strange choice to keep his daughter locked away, convinced she will perish if set free?

Or is there no connection between the two images, leaving the King as a generic, motiveless bad guy in a tale already struggling to live up to RWBY’s attempts to innovate, the visual parallels pure coincidence?

It’s most likely the latter, but we can’t be sure because RT has a long history of visual mistakes. They really are the studio that might animate two totally different crowns and then unexpectedly go, “Actually yeah, they are the same. Why don’t they look alike? Uh… because they’re shown in different stories! Yeah, or something like that. It’s a smart stylistic choice, trust us ;)” Fans should be able to theorize about a story with confidence, knowing the authors will either validate the details they caught, or surprise us by going in a new direction that is, crucially, still supported by what we see and hear on screen. Yet RWBY continues to fail on both fronts, forgetting to include significant details in their show while simultaneously positioning others as only existing in meta-commentary.

That tangent aside, let’s get to the plot proper. We’re introduced to this King whose wife (also unnamed) dies while delivering Salem (another tired choice imo). He’s so consumed by grief that he can’t even hold his daughter when the nurse presents her to him and initially, I took this to mean that the King locked Salem away out of a warped sense of danger. Hence, theories about how the Crown of Choice might be influencing him. Apparently though, from what else we can gather, he’s just an abusive asshole. That it. It’s originally implied that Salem is locked up because the King feared losing her as he did his wife, but then that’s shown to be an excuse for his far more generic cruelty. He claims to keep her in the tower so that Salem may be safe from the evils of the world, but the understanding for the audience is that in reality he just sees her as another of his possessions, a living treasure to keep secure in an overly-large chest. Frankly, it feels like too many motivations for what amounts to a character with literal seconds of screen time. RWBY as a franchise has a habit of introducing various concepts in an effort the make characters complex, but then the failure to follow up on any of those ideas results in minor confusion at best, outright contradictions at worst. The King is by no means the most overt example of this, but I find it notable that even for what is ultimately meant to be a cardboard cutout dude functioning as a plot devise, RWBY feels the need to introduce “nuance” that inevitably falls flat when nothing is done with it.

“You are my most precious possession,” he tells a very young Salem, just in case there was any lingering confusion about whether he considers her a person or not. Why make the King interesting with an internal life of his own when you can just make him another bad man doing bad things for... reasons.

The strangeness of the King’s characterization aside, something I do love about this moment is his hand reaching out towards Salem, overly large and looming… only to settle kindly on the top of her head. It’s a great visual for an abuser, where we as the audience know he means Salem harm, is currently enacting that harm, the implications of the shot are not inaccurate—and yet the end result of the gesture is just a pat on the head. This shot neatly summarizes how abusers can hide behind perceived intentions, enacting choices that appear kind if you don’t know the whole situation. We see similar work with the teddy bear he gives to Salem. Is a father giving his daughter a toy in-and-of-itself a wonderful, wholesome gesture? Yes. Is a father giving his daughter a toy in an attempt to compensate for keeping her perpetually locked in a tower wonderful and wholesome? I sure hope we all know the answer to that… Every once in a while, RWBY manages something really nice and I’m forcibly reminded of the potential this series isn’t capitalizing on.

This is Salem’s norm all throughout her childhood, asking to be let out and instead being given additional treasures to pass the time. Later, when she’s much older—sometime in her teens—we see her attempt to pass through the barrier that surrounds the tower and keeps her from escaping out the window. Frankly, I would have given the audience this moment when she was still a kid because as it stands, the action reads like this is Salem’s first time trying to leave the confines of her room. And that’s not just because it’s our first time seeing the attempt: Salem deliberately touches the barrier and then cradles her hand against her chest as if it has hurt her and like yeah, sure, maybe she prods the equivalent of an electrical shock because she’s that bored, but it’s just strange to show an action she would have learned to avoid by now, especially when you’ve already modeled her as a child. It’s one of those choices that doesn’t mean much on its own, but considering that one of my primary questions is how much Salem has tested the limits of her freedom prior to calling on strangers to die in her name… yeah, I’d like to know why an acknowledgement of the barrier doesn’t come until years after it was erected.

Unable to go outside, Salem asks her father for books instead, so that she might at least experience things second-hand. “The world in these books,” Salem says. “What a marvelous place!” This series has certainly played with the concept of storytelling itself—seen most notably in the faunus fairy tales and Ozpin’s meta-comments on each story — and though “The Girl in the Tower” doesn’t capitalize on the implication, I’m intrigued by Salem’s use of the singular here: “world” and “place.” It’s like she’s conceptualized all these different stories into a single vision of what the world is. Again, it’s not something RWBY is interested in exploring (and there certainly isn’t time for it), but does Salem think that everything she’s been given is non-fiction? Is she able to distinguish between a story, a history, and the bias that influences both? The answer is likely “no” given that she has, canonically, never set foot outside this room. For those fans who are interested in exploring Salem’s character in fic, it’s worth unpacking what she thought Remnant might look like vs. what she actually ended up with — death, cruel gods, a curse she’s maybe incapable of breaking depending on whether the grimm pool left her with the ability to grow and come to understand the (supposed) importance of death...

Basically, there’s a contrast here between the bright-eyed Salem in love with the world of her books and the abusive, monstrous Salem we get later in the series. It’s a change that’s  ripe for some introspective consideration.

In time though, Salem finishes all the books in the castle and, for obvious reasons, still finds herself unsatisfied. “Tomorrow I’ll be sixteen and I’ve never even stepped outside!” It’s in her anger that Salem throws the book she’s just finished and it sails out the window, right through the barrier. Again, not to nitpick the five minute fairy tale, but it really took Salem sixteen years to realize that objects could leave the tower? Honestly, no wonder the heroes are winning so easily. Salem has always been a little slow on the uptake, huh?

Okay, okay, jokes aside, I am serious about this. Wouldn’t it have been better to have kid!Salem throw a temper tantrum and discover this loophole earlier? Give us a childhood and early teenage years of her trying various ways to escape, only to eventually succumb to what she sees as a horrible necessity? Honestly, I have a lot of feelings about this “Salem did nothing for sixteen years and then jumped straight to murder” plot-line. Because to skip ahead just a tad, Salem decides to call on all the nearby knights to kill her father.

Here then, we get to the part of the recap where I feel the need to explain that I’m not trying to victim blame Salem here, but rather I’m commenting on RT’s inability to craft a situation where the extreme nature of Salem’s solution feels justified. Because for me, justification is tied not just to the horrific nature of what she’s trying to escape, but also her duty as a human being. If Salem is going to settle on allowing others to fight this battle on her behalf, under arguably false pretenses, and with all but one of those volunteers dying in the process… I want to be convinced by the story that Salem tried every better option first; that this is indeed the last possible resort. Has she tried to sneak past her father? Get the maid to help her? Fight him herself given that, as said, she’s a very powerful magic wielder who does eventually fight her way out of the castle?

That’s probably my biggest sticking point with this story: what was the point of taking a character already established as individually powerful and having them sit around for someone else to come save them? Especially when they’re a woman who the audience will be reading through a decades-long history of passively written characters. Double especially in a franchise that’s supposedly built around both emphasizing women’s agency and undermining our expectations for fairy tales. Yes, Salem’s story here needs to match up with what we were shown in The Lost Fable (not that RWBY has a good track record of keeping things consistent…) yet that just showcases how badly thought out this was in the larger scheme of the RWBY universe. Who looked at our series’ Big Bad, an unfathomably powerful obstacle living in a world at least somewhat interested in turning fairy tale expectations on their head, someone who, based on the writing of “The Lost Fable” and Ozpin’s established character since Episode One, was always conceived of as having personal power, even before she got tangled up with the Gods…

…and then decided to stick her in a tower to wait around for the knight’s rescue?

Contrary to what some critics might claim—and what many of my own metas might imply—the RWBY characters are not actually cardboard cutouts who exist solely to forward a plot, or even impart some moral message. They’re meant to have personalities, goals, and above all motivation, which makes “The Girl in the Tower” flounder considering this isn’t even a generic side-character, but Salem herself. She’s arguably the character next to Ruby. Yet Salem feels so flat to me here, largely due to that lack of agency and the equal lack of creativity that inevitably lumps her in with every other sanitized fairy tale. Why give us a determined woman pushing the limits of her father’s imprisonment when Salem could just sit there for the whole story? Again, I want to stress that there’s nothing inherently wrong with these character traits in any real-life situation we might equate this to. Yes, I know enough to understand that most abuse victims are going to accommodate their abusers out of a need to keep themselves safe, alongside being conditioned—in this case since childhood—to see this as normal, thereby making Salem’s passiveness at least semi-realistic. I also understand that not every character needs to be a kick-ass taker of what they want (I actually have a great deal of dislike for the Strong Female Character) and that Salem’s love of reading is just as valid a characterization as someone who, I don’t know, encourages the maid to do more on her behalf. We can even make the case that this quiet, bookish Salem makes for a wonderful contrast to the power-hungry threat she’d become, or that she’s perfectly in character given the still unexplained thousand years she spent just sitting around, not going after her goals until the heroes were conveniently in combat school. All of this is true!

But Salem isn’t a real person undergoing real abuse. If we’ve learned anything from RWBY’s handling of Blake’s faunus heritage and Yang’s disability—both of which were dropped after introducing the bare bones of nuance—it’s that RT is very willing to throw respect for those subjects aside in an effort to craft an exciting tale. No one (according to canon implications and a few Word of God comments) wants to watch Yang working through a depression at home, or Ruby grappling with nightmares, or Blake overcoming systemic racism… despite the fact that they chose to introduce those plot-lines in the first place. The show would much prefer to put emphasis on the fun, exciting aspects that RWBY was originally built on. This conflict is obviously a problem, but the flip-side is that Salem’s story is, arguably, one place where RT could have emphasized the Rule of Cool over real world allegories without any issues… and they didn’t. I can obviously only speak for myself, but I don’t need a fairy tale that tries to unpack the complexities of a woman held prisoner, especially when that character will go on to become both a domestic abuser herself, as well as the series’ Big Bad. Outside of a very generalize takeaway of “Abuse is cyclical” that the viewer might come to in their own time, there’s simply too much there to unpack. Don’t even try. However, you know what the story could use? That sort of simplicity used as a springboard for a kickass plot where a woman saves herself from captivity.

As it stands, Salem apparently thought little of her imprisonment for sixteen years, suddenly got mad about it, decided on a manipulative murder scheme as the only solution, and yet continued to stand around while others carried that out. It’s... not a great combination.

She has this light-bulb moment about the book going through the barrier and the next day, when the King visits to gift Salem with all the jewels and clothes befitting a captive princess on her birthday, she asks him for pen and paper (quill and paper? When did the word “pen” come into use?) so that she can write stories of her own. The tone of the conversation is notable in that the King appears rather taken with her request — he asks that Salem read him her stories when she’s finished — but Salem clearly sounds like she’s plotting something. Specifically, she writes a story about herself, folds numerous copies into paper... birds, since airplanes don’t exist yet, and throws them out her window for others to find.

Now, ignoring both that Salem writes this cry for help as a story rather than a first-person note that people would be much more likely to take seriously, and that her little folding technique would only fly a few feet before plummeting to the ground (unless she’s using magic?) here’s my problem with this whole plan:

“Once there was a beautiful maiden locked in a tower by her cruel, lord father. She longed to experience the world outside, but she was his prisoner. If only some brave, strong warrior would defeat the evil lord and free her at last, they would marry, inherit all of the father’s riches, and live happily ever after.”

This is so manipulative. The fandom gives Ozpin shit for not being forthcoming about Salem’s immortality, but at least he never presented the war itself as some sunny quest with a big reward at the end. Here, Salem is leading strangers to their deaths by a) promising them things that, at this point in the story, we don’t know whether she intends to uphold (does she really mean to marry whoever saves her? Sure, she fell for Ozpin, but what if it hadn’t been him? Will she give up her inheritance if she’s no longer marrying the guy she promised it to?) and b) failing to warn anyone that her father is a crazy powerful sorcerer who will obliterate anyone who tries to take his daughter away. “Lord” doesn’t cover any of that! Note how cushy she makes this all sound. I’m beautiful! I’m a maiden! You, person I’ve never laid eyes on, are so brave and strong ;) Come murder my father and we can totally get married, you’ll get all my dad’s shit, and we’ll definitely be happy for ever and ever and ever.

There’s just so much of this that I can’t get behind which, yes, includes Salem wanting to kill her dad. Look, I’m not defending the rat bastard. Locking your kid up in a tower — whether that’s due to seeing her as a possession, or a learned fear that loved ones will perish if not kept perfectly safe, both of which the narrative implies — is really fucked up. Salem deserves her freedom. But it’s also fucked up to do a fantasy equivalent of a Craigslist call for a hit on your dad when, as far as we’ve seen, Salem never tried any other means of escape. She just realized that objects can pass through his barrier — which to me says she hasn’t tried very hard to test the limits of her imprisonment. — and then jumped straight to not only getting someone else to kill the King, but doing so in a way that puts those volunteers in the most dangerous position possible: lusting after her, desiring riches, and having no real idea what they’re about to face.

Namely, this:

How many people did Salem get killed?? Okay, yes, in some respects this is similar to Ozpin’s situation with his students in that regardless of how much information these warriors had to work from, they all ultimately decided for themselves to take the risk. There’s even a line that implies that many of them did it because saving her was the right thing to do, not because they were after the rewards: “the story of the girls’ tragic circumstances spread far and wide.” Salem didn’t put a fantasy gun to their head and force them here. But unlike Ozpin’s rock and hard place problem (you really can’t fight an army of endless grimm without an army of your own), Salem didn’t try anything before her “Let other people die for me” plan. Then when she realizes these guys are dying for her, she looks real upset about it...

...but doesn’t try to put a stop to what she’s started.

That was the tipping point for me. If this was the story of an abused, isolated sixteen-year-old who made an impulsive decision, only to realize with horror the unintended consequences of that and try desperately to fix it... that would be different. But Salem doesn’t seem to care that all these guys are dying for her, not enough to try and stop it, anyway. We know that her notes spread “far and wide,” that “one warrior after another” came, and that “many tried,” but “just as many fell to the lord’s powerful, evil magic.” It’s only “one day” that Ozpin himself showed up, meaning we have this undetermined stretch of time where Salem just watched from her tower as all these knights were obliterated, apparently coming to the conclusion, “Alright, that’s sad and all, but my freedom is totally worth it. What I want trumps others’ lives.”

“Why is this a problem, Clyde?” you might ask. “Salem is the villain. Surely you’ve got nothing against villains doing questionable things, right?” I sure don’t! Rather, the problem here is that Salem wasn’t supposed to be a villain just yet and yes, I know that for a fact due to “The Lost Fable.” This isn’t a case of fans being upset because a backstory didn’t meet their specific preferences or expectations, this is a case of the backstory undermining the emotional core of events that we’ve already seen. Regardless of where you fall on the Salem vs. the Gods debate — how much was she a victim of their cruelty, how much was their curse deserved based on her choices, etc. — we nevertheless start with the story of a victim whose traditional Happy Ending was blown to pieces when the True Love Protagonist (Ozpin) dies. Hell, that debate hinges on agreeing that Salem was a good person and then did questionable things. Yet now, thanks to “The Girl in the Tower,” I’m no longer able to read “The Lost Fable” as a tragic tale of grief taken to an extreme, I’m just like, “Oh, Salem was always a budding sociopath, huh?”

(“Someone is here to murder Dad and whatever staff and guards get in the way! Woohoo! I’ll wait up here until they’ve done the majority of the work. I’ll just kill a few people on my way out. As a treat.”)

Which yeah, is a story. No matter what version of Salem we get, or what else RT might add that changes our reading of her arc, every version possible is always going to resonate with someone. I have no doubt that plenty of fans adore the reveal that Salem was always toying with the manipulation and callous dismissal of others’ lives that would later become staples of her villainy. For me though, it’s just another way that RT has muddied the waters of their abuse themes, reiterating that they don’t know what they’re trying to say about such complex topics and unintentionally ruining what good writing we originally had. Salem was a generic Big Bad. Then she was made sympathetic. Then we debated how much. Then she became Ozpin’s abuser. Then the fandom dismissed that. Then she underwent a journey that twisted her into who she is today. Then we were told that journey isn’t actually important because she was flirting with those horrors from the get-go. She’s the victim. She’s the manipulator. She’s the puppet-master. She’s going to wait around for someone to save her. She doesn’t care how many die in her name, She’s the classic princess walking off into the sunset with her knight... This isn’t character complexity, this is RWBY flip-flopping every other scene until I no longer know what to think of Salem’s character, let alone what messages the story might be trying to impart.

By the end of the episode, Ozpin says that “Stories hold great power over their audiences. The girl in the tower used her power and led many warriors to their deaths,” so I’m like okay, at least the writers are aware of how fucked up that scenario is, but THEN:

“We must read with some skepticism and decide the truth for ourselves.”

Oh, now the fucked-up-ness is suddenly up for debate? What’s the point of acknowledging it then? Besides, Ozpin, you lived this. Salem would have told him the first half of this story long before her fall into the grimm pool, meaning before she became someone who was overtly keeping secrets and/or lying to him. What do he mean we need to “read with some skepticism.” About what? Which part? What truth is Ozpin doubting here? Because from the audience’s perspective, this is the one fairy tale that we know for a fact is not a fairy tale at all. It’s history and sure, even lived history is remembered with bias, but that’s a far cry from the black and white “truth” that the episode seems to be peddling.

RWBY has no idea what it’s trying to say and I will die on that hill.

Meanwhile, I’m watching this animation of a whole line of warriors arriving to face down the King + his army and I’m going, “Damn, if it’s a one vs. many situation regardless, how about Salem give it a go? At least she has magic of her own, unlike these guys with just sword and shield. She could blast her dad the second he opens the door to her room. If you want him dead so badly just kill him yourself!”

But no, Salem waits, which both keeps her in the passive princess position and makes her at least somewhat responsible for these deaths — or at least fairly indifferent towards her hand in setting everything in motion. So what exactly does RT want me to get out of this story? Because my takeaway is that Salem was always a villain in the making, prone to jumping to the most violent solution first and uncaring that others are dying in her stead, despite the fact that she too has the tools — arguably better tools — to secure her own freedom, but we always need to wait for the man heroically open the door, right? (I’m sorry, Ozpin, I love you, you’re just been put into a shitty, archetypal position here.) Again, ignoring the potential, realistic behavior of an abuse victim that simply doesn’t exist within RWBY, the implication is that Salem prefers to be the puppet master literally standing on high as others do her dirty work for her, but she didn’t come into that through the journey we’ve seen throughout the rest of the franchise, it was just always there?

Bad people are innately bad, I guess? God knows we’ve acknowledged RWBY’s messy double-standard when it comes to redemption on this blog. 

After all this, Ozpin’s arrival is barely a blip on my radar. He wins against the King because he has his own “powerful magic,” but then we watch Salem escaping with him, blasting through guards with an orange magic beam equal to his green one. It’s another example of how the visuals in RWBY are meaningless because although they’re animated as identical, we have to assume Ozpin is stronger because otherwise why wouldn’t Salem free herself?

“You have rescued me from this castle,” the girl said.

“You have rescued yourself.”

He and Salem hold hands as they walk off into the woods together, Ozpin saying that Salem will decide where they go since she has yet to see the world. We pull out from the fairy tale and back into Ozpin’s office where he says that, “This fairy tale is unique on Remnant in that the protagonist writes her own story... and her ending.”

Setting aside my continued frustration over Salem’s agency in this — the references to writing stories as a metaphor for carving your own path just aren’t working for me here, not when the story is so unclear about what any of that amounts to in this world. It’s just a bunch of wise-sounding mumbo-jumbo — on a plot level Salem told Ozpin all this first-hand. What he didn’t experience for himself, of course. Salem’s ending is in reference to her turning into a grimm queen hell-bent on destroying everyone in an effort to die.

Or, to put it another way, Salem’s ending is being willing to sacrifice whoever is necessary to get what she personally wants.

Except that’s no longer a trait instilled in her from the grimm pool, or developed over years of torturous immortality thanks to the Gods’ actions, (did she really write her own ending, or was that forced on her by two all-powerful beings?), or even something Salem embraced sometime during the start of the series. It is, apparently, a perspective she’s been willing to entertain since she was sixteen-years-old while being almost entirely untouched by the world outside. It’s who she is.

So Salem didn’t write her story, her story was already written within her from the get-go. For a franchise supposedly about choice, RWBY keeps pushing predeterminism a lot.

Ozpin finally ends with, “Because in real life... there is no happily ever after” and I likewise end this recap with a (mental) scream of rage because Ozpin would never say that. Literally! I can prove it! Here’s the original ending:

“If you look far enough ahead, even a story with a happy ending may reveal itself a tragedy, and heroes may turn out to be villains. Hopefully, the reverse is also true.”

That’s WAY more optimistic. Yeah, the guy who has been through hell and back would be grappling with how the Happy Ending isn’t all it’s cracked up to be (something introduced at the very beginning of the series via Ruby and Blake’s conversation), but Ozpin also has enough faith to realize — and teach — that things can always circle back around. It’s always darkest before the dawn and all that. Who is this super pessimistic guy who writes off happiness as a whole? That’s not Ozpin. Ozpin has been fighting for over a thousand years, buoyed by his belief that people are inherently good and a better future is always achievable. Ozpin thinks back on the horrors he’s experienced, all the terrible mistakes he’s made, and still manages to muster up a smile for his students. Ozpin was betrayed, dragged through his trauma, assaulted, dismissed, and still arrived to save his friends because he cares, even when no one else does. Miss me with this shadowed, nihilist wannabe ending on a sour note. To me, that line alone is proof that there’s little thought going into these shorts... which is a damn shame considering that Myers’ book already did it better.

Yeah, this recap took me forever and that’s largely due to the hard-to-explain problems throughout: frustrating enough to warrant inclusion, but messy enough that they’re not easily picked apart. Hopefully most of this made sense and if not? I can still happily hang this recap on the meta wall and never look at it again. Cheers to that🥂

***

Lucifer_Crowe. “We are E.C. Myers, Eddy Rivas, and Kerry Shawcross...” Reddit, 15 Dec. 2021. https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/rh2c8w/we_are_e_c_myers_eddy_rivas_and_kerry_shawcross/hoowvzv/?context=3.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas #rwby: fairy tales