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nyxirrationalstories · 1 year

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Astros

Summary: A chapter of one of my stories (hiatus, saddly) "Gods of War". I just want to post it because is one of my favorite chapters to write and wanted to share here.

Utena´s songs really inspired me to write. I hope one day, continue the story.

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Antiquity, Perfection, Alone in the desert

Ares was wandering along a path, he doesn't remember how he got there but he kept walking. It was a beautiful day without a doubt, it was one of those days where he stopped to see and enjoy from dawn to dusk. It was not something new, he always did it every time he was in Thrace, but he enjoyed a little more being in the company of his children or with Argenis and Athena. And lately the god of war seemed to become a little more tame and even admitted a mistake to the goddess, leaving her puzzled but accepting his apologies, but he still fought with her about some things, for example: Should Argenis see his "uncles"? No, not after Agnes.

Oh Zeus, that damned bastard; Ares knew that his brothers were not guilty (although he is still looking for proof) but it was thanks to them that Argenis was in danger and it was Agnes who paid the consequences, Evan could not cope with the pain of a broken heart and died of sadness. The soldier dies when the reason for the battle comes to an end. After that, Ares took all he could and took everyone to Thrace where Zeus had no power there, he could not enter without permission of the fierce god of war.

Argenis had no consolation, even when he seemed calmer one could see in the boy's eyes the loss of his sister. Evan's death didn't help the little boy much either, the habits he had vanished and the guilt seemed to tear him apart; there was a time when the boy said to them "Lords Ares and Athena".

Oh, the god of war and blood was always filled with pride when his soldiers called him "Lord Ares" but in the mouth of his son… he repudiated it. It was a long talk with the boy and a hug but Ares was beyond angry but Athena convinced him to save his anger, that Zeus would target the boy if Ares attacked or declared his wrath.

Atmosphere, Atom, A Star of Chance

In the distance he saw Athena sitting with Argenis, but she looked different and Argenis looked a little more cheerful and taller, even though he was bent over. Ares hurried a little to get closer, making the aforementioned gods turn in his direction causing Argenis to run to his side and grab his hand, bringing both gods closer and finally he could see why Athena looked different.

That's when he woke up

Ares looked at how Athena and Argenis were curled up, sleeping peacefully, and he couldn't help but smile at the peace that reigned. Without any problem he carried both of them and put them on a bed so they could rest properly, he thought about letting them sleep there alone… but decided to join them, lying down next to Argenis.

Yes, the child of Earth

Argenis was awakened by a big squeeze from both sides, in his desperation he tried to get free and with great difficulty he succeeded. With a grumble he looked at his parents in their arms and went to his room, annoyed at having been awakened so rudely and, without Helios still standing up, what a sacrilege; he wrapped himself in his blankets and went back to sleep, surrendering himself once again to the arms of Morpheus.

Meanwhile, Athena dreamed that she was surrounded in a field of lilies and a few poppies and violets. The goddess looked around her until she saw Ares and Argenis in the distance, the god was sitting with a bundle in his arms, Argenis seemed to observe the bundle with great curiosity and seemed to talk to Ares who responded with a loud laughter making the bundle move…

It is conceived

… and laughed tenderly, raising her little arms to touch Ares' short beard…

The child of philosophy

An instinct made the goddess of wisdom approach them, it was the laughter of the non-existent infant who called her but as she approached everything vanished and Athena woke up. The owl-eyed goddess did not expect that the first thing she saw in the morning was the chest of Ares, nor did she expect to feel how the bloody god embraced her in her sleep. For the first time in her life, she felt her cheeks redden with an embarrassment totally different from the previous ones she had felt before, this was one where Ares' actions… did not bother her, rather, the embrace made her feel safe. She took a deep breath and with a shyness typical of her she returned the hug, it was strange but it didn't make her feel bad.

Egg, perfection originated in a nest.

--- Hey, haven't you noticed that your parents are getting along? --- Enyo looked sideways at the gods of war, who were minding their own business with the people of their respective villages, while Argenis fished peacefully in a small river mouth.

--- They have always done it, in their own way but they have done it --- Enyo snorted at the boy's response and looked askance at the duo who always looked as if they were going to destroy each other --- sometimes I feel that I am in their way --- Enyo looked with some concern at the little boy, I am not a warrior, I am not an adult and I am not even an immortal --- Argenis looked at the heroes that Athena was leading and then looked at the warriors that Ares decided to train. .. he felt like a little ant that at any point would be crushed --- and Zeus hates me… for reasons I guess --- Enio wanted to explain to him but how to explain everything that was happening to someone who was not older than 11 years old? --- But my grandmother Hera liked me, in fact, she gave me a big cape with peacock feathers and I plan to wear it when the village celebrates her --- Enyo folded her arms and made a gesture at the mention of his mother, although when Argenis saw his aunt's bad mood he gave her a seabream.

---You know you don't always buy people with fish? --- Enyo took a bite of the fish while the boy watched in disbelief as she ate it raw --- Neither will you be tender and small, at least until you grow up --- Argenis was a little annoyed with the comment, maybe he was 10 years old but he was not a brute and he understood perfectly well how some things worked --- And when you grow up you will be someone strong enough to possibly go on adventures or join an army.

--- Or soon --- Enyo looked at him for a second, watching as Argenis continued fishing with a calm smile and humming a song unknown to her. When Enyo looked carefully, this was the tenth bucket he filled with fish, big and small, he even had 3 nets ready to use.

--- Hey, Nike --- called the Destroyer of Cities to the goddess of victory --- Could you keep an eye on Argenis, I need to… give some observation to the gods of war --- Nike, a little distrustful, accepted the strange request of that goddess and stood next to the boy.

--- Why does Charon demand coins, what does he want them for? --- Nike did not know how to answer, she believed that not even the very souls and beings that inhabited hades would know.

--- Why do you ask? --- the boy just answered with "nothing else" and began to ask other questions. Some for a purpose and some to throw him off.

Stamen, pistil, a single seed.

Athena looked proudly at her old protégés while Ares looked with some jealousy at some heroes, mainly Diomedes and Heracles. The former for being Athena's favorite hero and the latter for being officially declared as Zeus' favorite son, although there was also a third: Perseus. Argenis loved the story of Perseus and it seemed that the story of Argenis had gone all the way to hades since Perseus had told the boy that he admired his cunning in having deceived Zeus.

Athena did not know how to feel about Aphrodite's visits, being at first as a lover of Ares and now as a loving advisor to both of them. She was also grateful that she had decency in front of Argenis and changed the subject quickly; the bad thing is that Argenis is cunning, curious and stubborn, her cunning, his own curiosity and Ares' stubbornness, may Olympus protect him when he does something stupid.

Yes, the child of Earth

--- So… haven't you started to get… spicy in bed? --- Athena almost choked on some ambrosia, causing her to spit it out and her face to turn red at the comment of the goddess who was smiling with a certain mischievousness --- Already a year together and nothing, I'm surprised that Ares has endured so much.

--- Please, Ares sleeps with anything that has a dress and a vagina --- Aphrodite laughed at the comment of the owl-eyed goddess and her reddened face.

Grow up

--- I know, I know perfectly well --- Athena wiped her face while looking sideways with some anger at the goddess of love --- But, even knowing how he is, he hasn't got himself a mistress, he hasn't even come to visit me --- Was it a claim? It did not seem so, rather it seemed to give some credibility to her argument and suggested something else --- Think about it, they know each other intimately and, by the way, give Argenis a little brother or sister --- Athena felt that with Argenis was enough and the thought of the sexual act… made her nervous.

The child of philosophy

Meanwhile, Enyo and Nike were arguing with Ares about the strange behavior of Argenis, who was keeping all the fish in two large baskets, Hera's blanket, three toys made of fine wood, a dagger given by Ares and a shield made by Hephaestus and Prometheus, a gift from Athena. The Moiras watched silently as the boy prepared for his second feat, never before had they seen up close the deeds of the great heroes.

--- A little fisherman will become a great adventurer --- said the youngest of the three, preparing the obols and drachmas for the little boy --- A great warrior who begins to forge his own legend.

--- And, on the other hand --- The three Morias watched as a tired Ares and Athena entered, ignoring everyone and going into the room --- Really, they are so adorable when they get along --- said Lakessis as she prepared Argenis' dinner.

Then

--- And when they find out what their little boy is planning --- Atropos was cutting threads of life, ending today's threads --- If he survives his adventure, they're going to kill him.

The cool of the night was beginning to get a little stronger. Into the room entered both gods of war; Ares stretched lazily as he laid his cloak on a chair, seconds later he proceeded to lie on the bed face down.

Athena for her part let out a sigh, it had been a somewhat tiring day and she had to admit that she needed to lie down, so she did, lying down on the bed while looking at the ceiling of the room.

The lunar sky, the mercurian sky, the venusian sky.

The brown-haired man turned to his left and managed to see the profile of the goddess.

--- What's wrong with you? ---He asked as he put his hands under the pillow to lean back. --- You've been kind of… distracted --- The female turned to her right, her gray eyes met the amber eyes of the god. Was it so obvious that she wasn't feeling well? She let out a sigh again.

--- Do you think we'll ever be able to fix this? --- He answered the god with another question. Ares didn't bother, but raised his eyebrows at the question. --- Do you think… we could go back to Olympus?

--- I don't know, you're the smart one --- He joked a little, but it only made the goddess frown in annoyance. The brown-haired man tried to be a little more understanding? --- I do not know Athena, Zeus must still be very angry and you know it is very difficult to make him see reason… Remember Prometheus --- The female couldn't help but let out another sigh. Ares knew that this one was different, this one was depressed ---Do you miss Olympus? --- He asked her, the brunette put her hands on her belly and stopped looking at the god to observe the ceiling --- Athena?

--- Yes, I miss it. I know, Zeus is angry… But, I need to know how they are doing, not for Hermes to come and tell us about it. I want to see it with my own eyes, I want to walk the halls again and see my other siblings there --- The god noticed that the woman's tone was melancholic, sad, to tell the truth. --- I know Zeus only wants me to be well, but… sometimes he exaggerates, I mean, I came out of his head as a woman, so he doesn't trust me? O… Could it be something else? --- Athena felt that despite her efforts, her father still viewed her with some caution because of the prophecy that the son of Metis had.

--- I don't think it's distrust --- Ares commented as he pulled his left arm out from under the pillow and stretched it out to put his hand on the goddess'. --- Not for nothing are you her favorite. I think that goes without saying; honestly the only thing I miss about Olympus is seeing my mother --- Athena, who had sent her gaze to the brown-haired man's hand, turned to look at him when he said the last thing, reflecting on her half-brother. Zeus always seemed to behave rather dryly with the god of war, she remembered how her father had declared his disownment in the Trojan War, even she felt sorry for him at the time.

And the goddess of wisdom herself, with the time she had spent with him, knew that none of what she might have been told was true, or at least not the vast majority of it. Just the odd detail. She felt embarrassed by the same.

The free hand she had she placed over the brown one.

The solar sky, the Martian sky, the Jupiterian sky.

Their eyes collided and they stared at each other for several seconds.

--- I'm sorry --- Athena confessed and then broke eye contact with her familiar. Ares lifted his head slightly from the pillow at the words and gestures of the female, smiled without being able to help it, turned to lie on his side, but without taking his hand away from hers --- Do you think that Argenis… still has the idea that we are his parents --- She asked to change the subject. She felt that it was not the time to give explanations about that apology, she still felt embarrassed about it. The god, although amused, tried to answer the new question asked by the female.

--- It is obvious. It is what she longs for the most and it is normal Athena. She needs parents and found in us that --- The voice of the god sounded calm, calm, without any hesitation, as when he led a troop of soldiers to war. Athena, on the other hand, changed her embarrassed countenance to one of concern.

--- But… I'm not even a person who deals with children, I don't know how to be a good mother, or a mother for that matter --- Ares, who for several minutes had been watching the profile of the chestnut, pulled away the hand that cradled the fine hands of the goddess and brought it to her beautiful face, making her turn to look at him.

--- You can learn it Athena. Just as you are capable of leading humans to victory in a war, you can be the mother that little one desires --- Her cheeks had turned slightly red. The brown-haired man brushed one of her strands of hair behind her ear --- Although it may not seem so, you have changed your attitude towards him a lot. And I've seen him happy because you already accept that he calls you "mom" --- maybe Ares was not a good match, but he was a good father and he knew that Athena was trying hard to be a good mother even though she had never shown any taste for children. And even the gods didn't know how to be good parents, it's something to be learned by heart.

--- Do you really think I will be a good mother? --- whispered the goddess

--- I would take it for granted --- replied the god, giving a sincere smile to the woman. She returned the gesture in kind. --- If not, I could teach you princess --- Athena quickly wiped the smile and frowned, picking up a pillow and hitting the god with it. Ares laughed a little and defended himself with his left arm, stopping caressing her beautiful face --- Calm down. I'm not kidding, seriously, I can help you to make it easier for you to deal with the little one --- He commented stopping laughing and Athena hitting him with the pillow. She still looked annoyed. Ares settled back on the bed so that he was in a more comfortable position, but still on his side.

The gray-eyed one did the same and settled herself so that she was facing Ares.

The Saturnian sky, the stellar sky, the sky of motives.

--- Speaking of Argenis, haven't you noticed that he is behaving strangely? --- Asked the god again. Athena looked at him for a few seconds.

--- Have you noticed it too? I've noticed that he's paying a lot of attention to the warriors' training, when before he didn't do that ---Ares raised his eyebrows in surprise --- Besides that… he's fishing too much. I've been trying to think why… but, I still can't find any reason why Argenis should do that --- They could live without human food, ambrosia was their main food and drink, so the boy's overfishing was too strange.

--- Overfishing? Training observation? No, I hadn't noticed that. I have seen him write something on a scroll, but I haven't really looked into it…. Besides that, I've seen him talking to his reflection, as if he was having some kind of conversation or practicing what to say. --- The goddess made an astonished face; Ares took a blanket to cover himself as the coolness of the night was turning cold and soon after covered his companion. --- I've also noticed that he looks in different clothes…. Do you think the same thing is happening to him as to Narcissus? --- Ares sweat coldly at the thought that Argenis could end up like Narcissus without even having grown up.

--- I don't think so. This is different --- She replied as Ares finished covering her --- It's something else, but I still don't know what it is --- Possibly it was that the boy had been influenced by one of his brothers, the last words of Ares pointed to Apollo, but he would have to talk to each of them.

--- I think we should talk to him --- Ares suggested, to which Athena nodded, agreeing with the brown-haired man.

The bull continues on into endless eternity

Both gods of war looked at each other. There was no heavy atmosphere between them, instead, it was a calm one, something that had not happened between them. Athena averted her gaze, she began to see the blanket with which they were both covered…. It wasn't two blankets, it was one.

She was not the only one who noticed it, Ares barely reacted to the closeness that the goddess of wisdom had with him… too close. Maybe only 10, 15 millimeters was what separated them. They blinked a couple of times when their gazes met again, after the third blink they both opened their eyes in surprise.

And the face of both of them looked a little flushed…. They were in the same bed! Just the two of them! without any third party (a.k.a. the compulsive fisherman).

When? How? How could they not have noticed this detail when they were so close to each other?

A single organ system

But at the same time, none of them moved. As if the first one to do so would put an end to the peace they had. There was no candlelight, because they had not lit one when they entered the room. The moonlight had been enough for them to see each other without problems. Athena looked down really ashamed and surprised…. It was strange for her to be so close to Ares without having approached him for a fight.

The god for his part also averted his gaze, but it was to the face of his half-sister, he did not deny that she was beautiful, but it was the first time he saw her in such detail. He also saw how she blinked a few times in a heavy way, maybe Morpheus was already doing his job.

A single prepetual motion machine

They had always hated each other, they always talked about how both gods who represented the same thing could not even see each other. Athena always beat Ares and considered him a brute while Ares bellowed about his wounded pride and raged.

It was something eternal, prepetual and close, then? why did it feel so ephemeral and distant?

Hate gives strength but weakens the soul, it is hard but hollow. Emptiness is to feel it but it is understood to have it. But in them? what was the reason? Broken pride? It made no sense.

Ah, it's an empty movement

--- You should sleep now. Tomorrow we can talk to Argenis. --- He suggested as he brought his hand back to the goddess and caressed her face. Athena's gray eyes looked up to see him. She did not give birth to him and he did not stop. --- Calm down. We will find a way to solve Zeus and you will be able to return to Olympus.

--- Thank you Ares --- She commented and brought her right hand so that she could hold it over the hand of the god that caressed her face. Another sincere smile came from her to her companion --- For accompanying me… And to the moiras, although you could have gone elsewhere. You stayed --- It was true that both of them could have stayed "married" and away from each other but… fate is capricious, sometimes not even the gods can help it.

Yes, it's an empty move

--- We got into this trouble together and we'll get out of it together. --- Maybe it was a reflex action, maybe it was those words of thanks. He didn't know it yet, he had just let himself go; he had approached the goddess of wisdom and kissed her forehead. He stopped caressing her face to embrace her. --- Rest, Athena. You deserve it --- The aforementioned did not push the god of war away. She felt she needed that show of affection, so she just rested her hands on Ares' chest and closed her eyes.

--- Also rest, Ares --- whispered the goddess.

Then

Zeus could not sleep, for some reason he felt restless, something had happened but he did not know what. Hera slept peacefully, without any remorse, making him envy her; he was still annoyed with her for having dealt with the little varmint, even loving him as a grandson of her own blood. What about her other grandchildren? She tricked Semele to death and wanted to kill Dionysus, not to mention the children of Hebe, Hephaestus and the others of Ares.

If he couldn't sleep, neither would that little spawn.

He summoned Morpheus to cause him horrible nightmares but the god only replied that as long as he was awake he could do nothing. So the child is awake? That he really wanted to see.

The sky of the Moon, the Mercurian sky, the sky of Venus.

Argenis mounted Arion, which he had obtained thanks to Prometheus and Momo, (who helped him to trick Copreo into keeping him); and put the things in his little cart and with the lighter things tied to the saddle. He saw his home for the last time, gave a little sigh, and departed.

The night, the stars and the horse were his only company. His thoughts wandered until he saw Cloto in front of him, almost giving a scream that would surely wake his parents, but she was smiling at him.

--- Argenis, what are you going to pay with? Forgetful child --- the moira said in small laughs making the little boy blush at what she said, turning around so he wouldn't give her any more buzz, but he felt in his hand a bag full of coins and looked back at Cloto --- the obols are enough but the drachmas will make him not question --- the young woman winked at him and Argenis only whispered a "thank you very much, I'll be back, I promise" and left.

The sky of the Sun, the Martian sky, the sky of Jupiter.

Zeus looked with great curiosity at that exchange that he did not notice Prometheus who was sitting next to him, just watching the little one who had also managed to deceive the aforementioned… and then Prometheus had an idea.

--- A very peculiar little guy, don't you think? --- Zeus let out a small squeak when he noticed Prometheus, causing the titan to let out a laugh that could be heard in almost all the hall of the gods --- Brave as his father and cunning as his mother, but stubborn as both, something to be feared if that remains when he grows up.

--- They are not his parents, he is a human and that's it --- muttered the king of the gods angrily, clenching his fists on the table where he saw the little one. His countenance, young and beautiful, reflected the repudiation he had for the child not only for bringing Ares and Athena closer together but also for having been deceived by him --- he is an easy mortal to kill --- Prometheus felt he had to act quickly before Zeus saw that he had the perfect opportunity to kill the child when he left Thrace.

--- Or prove that the child is worthless --- Zeus looked attentively at Prometheus, willing to listen to his proposal --- Do you know what he is looking for? --- The king shook his head and turned to look at Argenis --- Remember Orpheus? the same thing but with his sister --- Zeus looked at Prometheus and looked at the boy again --- You only have to make Argenis not find the entrance... --- Zeus covered the titan's mouth and looked at the little one.

--- I already know what to do: I will tell him where the entrance is, as he won't believe me he will take another path and get lost, causing both of my children to hate each other again --- Zeus patted Prometheus on the cheek and went off to "divert" the child. Prometheus could only think that fate, and the related gods, was as mysterious as it was capricious. When Zeus left the room with a triumphant face, Hera entered from the other side with a bad temper.

--- Your husband is not cheating on you --- said Prometheus, already accustomed to Hera's face that always bellowed --- Zeus is not in bed, he is cheating on me again --- and the comment made her calm down a little --- But he wants to get rid of Argenis.

-WHAT?!

the sky of Saturn, the stellar sky, the sky of the motives

--- …. after a river, on the left you will see the entrance to hades --- Argenis looked at him carefully, trying to remember everything Zeus told him --- Now, I know you must be wondering why I helped you.

--- Because we are family and a grandfather helps his grandson --- Argenis smiled at him in a sincere way, making Hera and Prometheus let out an "aww" in the hall of the gods. --- Either that or you are really bored up there and only something new could fill your boredom in an adventure where my chances of dying inside hades are huge causing my early death and a lesson for mortals not to venture out at a young age --- commented Argenis with some seriousness until his tone became lighter --- Or I get stuck up there and start counting souls until my parents realize I am gone --- Zeus scratched his chin a little and looked at Argenis again --- Well, good, nice to have talked to you grandfather and to have solved everything, now I must continue my journey.

--- Why do you do it? Forgive my memory, sometimes I tend to forget things --- the king and the child looked at each other, both analyzing each other as if they were going to reveal something hidden.

--- Agnes, you killed her because of me? see you later, I must go --- sadness flooded the little one but his determination made him move forward, ordering Arion to move, until he disappeared from the king's sight.

the bull continues in the endless eternity

--- I think your grandson is more perceptive than I thought --- confessed Prometheus, he knew the boy was cunning but trusting…. well, he didn't know if trusting was the right word --- Zeus' face is priceless - the titan mocked when he saw the king's face.

--- I'm not going to lie, that was weird --- said Hera as she came out of her little shock caused by the boy's words. --- I thought I was going to give him false directions. Will you help him?

--- He thinks that if he tells him the true path, Argenis will distrust and follow another --- Hera thought for a few seconds about what Prometheus had said until a certain truth came out.

--- But Argenis believes in his heart that Zeus is helping him --- Hera sighed in relief knowing that her grandson was at least going to reach his destination.

Prometheus was not going to deny that the plan of the king of the gods, obviously flawed, was better than his own that could have caused the boy's parents to fight. Best of all, this time Zeus had fooled himself, so he would have no punishment to endure again and Argenis would not be lost.

a single organ system

The titan was known as a do-gooder, civilizing figure, making possible the progress of mankind and trying to equalize man with the gods. Also for having deceived Zeus several times and for having saved him from his punishments. Taking all this into account, it was not surprising that Prometheus was fascinated with the son of Ares and Athena; that is, a human who deceived Zeus and did what he could not: get rid of Zeus' punishment.

Actually, Prometheus adored his creation, loved humans and would give everything for them. So Argenis already had someone on his side. Fate seemed to be preparing him for something that could turn very dark, it only remained to wait and see what fate's plans would be.

a single prepetual motion machine

Love, like hate, is a force that moves mountains, but it is fragile. It also causes all kinds of emotions: it makes you enjoy life, feel and express gratitude, have moments of serenity, feel curious and interested in the world, live with hope, be able to feel pride in a constructive way, have the ability to have fun, find sources of inspiration and maintain our capacity for wonder.

But Love and Hate have a limit, an end: Death.

ah, it is an empty movement

Death, an inevitable change, to stop or avoid it is impossible, no one can. And no one can raise the dead, only the gods can.

But Argenis had faith, he had hope, he was determined to leave the underworld with the soul of his sister and achieve what Orpheus could not.

Yes, it is an empty move, it is

But for that, he would have to convince Hades and Persephone. No matter what it took, he would show Agnes his gratitude and love for all she had done for him.

#Inspired by Utena´s song #Atenea x Ares #Athena x Ares #Ares x Athena #athenares #arenea #aresthena #greek myhtology #original character

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tootyfruities · 2 years

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answering earlier than expected bc of a random burst of energy? couldn’t be me 🤭 nah but i actually feel kinda sad™️ rn and u make me feel better so here i am 🤞but OMGKEJFJWBFHE WHERE DO I EVEN BEGINNNNN

youcore fr bc you’re so smart and cool bae ugh your mind is everything OMGMGMGMM you got me wanting to jump through the screen to gently hold shin but also gently hold you bc KDNSJDDKDN the storyline fits so well and like,,,, suits him if that makes sense???? i’m absolutely HERE for this letter writing arc and im so fuckin excited you have no idea <3 <3 <3 (might inspire to make more playlists too, just for u <3) even despite all this, I can still feel his dorky and soft self and I JUST

there’s this cute comic from @/loweater of toshi using asl w bakugou and eri and if i can find it i’ll tag you :) OH and his dad being his therapist and all the other details about his family wE LOVE TO SEE IT 🗣🗣🗣 (this moreso relates back to the blog which we’re gonna get into- but i remember you writing abt his (3?)pet cats so just a little idea there for u :>)

last thing darling!! please please please don’t feel pressured to reopen that blog or talk to me constantly. getting a little more personal in 3, 2, 1~ for the longest time when u took your hiatus, i felt so bad and guilty bc I thought I was the reason and I took so much of your time and energy and I admit and apologize for being way more emotionally dependent than I should’ve been. things have changed now and im doing a lot better! i love and care for u vv much so pls don’t beat yourself up over it ok <3

wait no sorry THIS is the last thing I swear 😭 i was actually gonna msg u a couple days ago bc i actually had a dream abt the voicemail thing- long story short,,,,, i think i called shin back the next day, we said hello and i unexpectedly (to him anyway) asked him a question abt his new pet fish…??? OK before u think i’m crazy;;; i think it was smth that he had rambled abt in the voicemail and i was asking abt it just to talk and exist freely before getting into the Other Much Needed To Be Discussed Topics.

okay i went like way overboard im sorry 💀 ily forever my darling mwah <3

I NEVER GOT THE NOTIFICATION FOR THIS IM SO SAD :(

UHM 1) i hope you're ok w me answering this publicly w the more personal info shared, if not lemme know and i will, idk delete this post? that being said! between my own terrible unmotivation and personal issues, plus yes maybe a little bit with the emotional dependence, it just felt hard to keep up with the blog. but you were never, ever ever ever, a Big Bad in my life, never. overwhelming sometimes, yeah(BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR IT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, OUR FLAWS MAKE OUR RELATIONSHIP STRONGER). but when i made the decision to close the blog it was not "riri makes things hard :(" it was, "things are hard and i gotta focus on myself :(". i appreciate and abs accept your apology though you are so cool and i am so so happy knowing that you're doing better <3

a bit of an extension on that;; i'm still deciding whether i wanna reopen the blog tbh. i've got a couple wips on there that i meant to finish but never did, plus small storylines i wanted to pursue thru shin's blogs that i can't exactly emulate thru I Am An Author Writing a Thing when it should be This Is A Guy Writing Stuff On His Tumblr Blog. plus publicly posting my writing is so rewarding to me :}

2) PLEASE DO JUMP THRU THE SCREEN and gently hold me n shin - woahoah we would both love that methinks. grrrr. i love you so much riri. no amount of poetic words can convey how much i love and adore you TRULY. you are a light in my life, i am happy and ready to have room in my life for you again :) <3

3) YOU DREAMED ABT IT AJFNNE. shin getting a fish... that would def clash with his, yes, 3 kitty cats. but also a calm pet that doesn't require love and affection? holy crap i shoulda considered it, that'd be way fitting for them,,, if not for the fact that fish are Slimy and shin likes Fluffy. in an alternate world where cats hadn't already stolen their heart, i can easily imagine shin getting into fish and maybe even lizards. he's got the range~

idk if i'm exactly gonna write what was said in the voicemail cos i wanted to leave that up to your interpretation, and tbh i'm GLAD for that cos your interpretation is great. muahaha

ilyilyily going to check out the mecore link now muah <3

#riri tag omg

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harmonaesthetic · 3 years

Photo

Violet Harmon has the “1920′s Columbus Vending Co. Model M Gumball Machine” in her room

#violet harmon style #violet harmon room #bedroom #yes i still exist on here i apologize for the hiatus!!#violet harmon exacts #exacts

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maijily · 3 years

Text

INTRAAAASSSSSS RELEASE NOTES

Heya Tumblr. How have you been? ;)

It’s time for the Intracodes to be announced~~ But this post is super long so don’t continue unless you want 289347329 years of text

You’ve been warned

GUESS WHAT THE HIATUS IS OVER!!! ...Kinda. There’s still a few things left to do before DC, Omission, and Tumblr can come back to life, but trust that things are moving and it’s only a matter of time before they all start posting again.

BUT FOR NOW, we have intras. I hope you haven’t forgotten about them-- Intra submissions started a few months ago, where anyone could submit an OC who would end up being canon in the world of DC, either in the current lore or a future comic! ARA’s an example of a submission who ended up in DC’s hiatus chapters as a healer outcode, and if you submitted, they’ll show up in one way or another too, some having to do more with the plot than others.

So there were a TON of submissions and only FOUR of them could become intracodes (since intras are ridiculously rare and powerful and all). The REST are either basecodes, outcodes, or outliers, and they’ll all show up in one way or another as interactable characters later on.

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Due to lore secrets, I can’t tell you what your characters will be and what they’ll do. Instead, you’ll know the code type, code role, status, alignment, and power level of each. (Keeping the creators secret for privacy reasons~)

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IF YOU SUBMITTED A CHARACTER, PLEASE please PLEASE keep the following in mind:

((Your submission probably contains secrets to the character, either in backstory, traits, secret intentions, etc. The character belongs to both you and DC, and there may be some traits about your character that the audience doesn’t know. (say your character pretends to be a good guy but is secretly evil). When they show up, it’d be great for no spoilers on your end as well as mine. We’re both sharing a piece of canon here!))

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OK, so now some info before the submissions are released:

Your character is either a basecode, outcode, outlier, or intracode. (this is also in order from least to most powerful).

✦Basecode: Like SK or Cloud. Stuck in a void, their story has been discarded, and they are alone.

✦Outcode: They’ve escaped their void/been rescued, and are living in the wild land of the Interface. They are either living in an outcode community, leading an outcode community, or wandering the interface independently.

✦Outlier: Rare, powerful, and usually feared. Contain powers that outcodes can’t replicate and are often not accepted by the rest of the Interface.

✦Intracode: Gods of the Interface. Live in pain and extreme power. Nearly impossible to kill, and highly destructive and deadly if their power is not kept under control. There are 6 in existence including Digi.

Alright. Reveal time, are you ready?

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THE INTRACODES:

(Gods of the interface. Highly destructive and deadly.)

Name: Cancor Spiderwick Code type: Intracode Status: Hidden Alignment: True Neutral

Power level: 11/10

Name: Rollo Code type: Intracode Code Role: Outsider/Wanderer Status: Free Alignment: ???

Power level: 11/10

Name: Delta Code type: Intracode Code Role: N/A Status: Void-bound Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Power level: 11/10

Name: Millie Code type: Intracode Code Role: Outsider Status: Free Alignment: Chaotic good

Power level: 11/10

Clap it up for the intracodes 👏 👏 👏 We have two chaotic evils (including Digi) so it’ll be a fun ride ;w;

And for the other submissions~~

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BASECODES

(Trapped in their void. They are alone.)

Name: Angel Code type: Basecode Code Role: Isolated Status: Void-Bound Alignment: True Neutral

Power level: 5/10

Name: Ceryk Ardor Code type: Basecode Code Role: Isolated Status: Void-Bound Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Power level: 5/10

Name: Rox Code type: Basecode Code Role: Isolated Status: Void-Bound Alignment: True Neutral

Power level: 5/10

Name: Sophie Code type: Basecode Code Role: Isolated Status: Void-Bound Alignment: Neutral Good

Power level: 5/10

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OUTCODES

(Escaped their void, is living in the wild lands of the Interface.)

Name: Ara Code type: Outcode Code Role: Damage Control Status: Free/Famous Alignment: Chaotic good

Power level: 7/10

Name: Badru Code type: Outcode Code Role: Sector 1, Second in Command Status: Free/Famous Alignment: Chaotic good

Power level: 8/10

Name: Edgeblade Rainbow Code type: Outcode Code Role: Outsider Status: Hidden Alignment: (Is Chaotic Chaotic an alignment)

Power level: 6/10

Name: Emilia Code type: Outcode Code Role: Undercover Status: Hidden Alignment: Chaotic good

Power level: 6/10

Name: Ivan Code type: Outcode Code Role: Leader of Sector 3 Status: Free/Famous Alignment: Lawful Good

Power level: 7/10

Name: Jack Servini Code type: Outcode Code Role: Outsider Status: Hidden Alignment: True neutral

Power level: 6/10

Name: Kirai Code type: Outcode Code Role: Outsider/Wanderer Status: Hidden Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Power level: ???

Name: Liva Code type: Outcode Code Role: Sector 2, Second in Command Status: Free/Famous Alignment: Neutral Good

Power level: 8/10

Name: Luna Code type: Outcode Code Role: Exiled/Outsider Status: Hidden Alignment: Neutral Evil

Power level: ???

Name: Tank Code type: Outcode Code Role: Undercover Status: Free Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Power level: 6/10

Name: The Storyteller Code type: Outcode Code Role: N/A Status: Hidden Alignment: True Neutral

Power level: 10/10

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OUTLIERS

(Rare, powerful, feared. Usually not accepted by others.)

Name: Neri, Leandro Code type: Outliers Code Role: Assassins (Sector 2) Status: Free Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Power level: 9/10

Name: Storm Lycan Code type: Outlier Code Role: Leader of Sector 1 Status: Free Alignment: (Evil Evil should be an alignment)

Power level: 9/10

Name: Liam Code type: Outlier Code Role: Undercover Status: ??? Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Power level: (Varies from 5/10-10/10)

Name: Tacir Code type: Outlier Code Role: Outsider/Famous Status: Hidden Alignment: Neutral Good

Power level: 10/10

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OTHER

(Too lore heavy to reveal)

Name: Lyssa Code type: ??? Code Role: ??? Status: Free/??? Alignment: ???

Power level: ???

Name: Tao Lycaon Code type: ??? Code Role: Exiled/??? Status: Free/??? Alignment: Neutral evil

Power level: ???

Name: “The Sailor” Code type: ??? Code Role: Famous/??? Status: ??? Alignment: (Varies from Chaotic Good to Chaotic Evil)

Power level: ???

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WAIT DID YOU THINK WE’RE DONE!??!?! Nope time for questions for those who submitted.

Q/A:

✦What does the status mean for the character?:

Free = They can roam the interface as they please.

Hidden = They are running/hiding from someone/something.

Void-Bound = Accounts mostly for basecodes. They’re trapped in a void.

✦What does the code role mean for the character?:

Undercover = Likely spies/assassins. They are pretending to be something that they aren’t.

Exiled = They were banished from a community they were previously in.

Outsider = They are outside of the main communities of the Interface and live independently.

Wanderer = They don’t have a set home and travel/explore the Interface.

Isolated = Accounts mostly for basecodes. They are secluded from all and can’t escape.

Leader/Second command of [insert Sector] = Has a leadership position in Sector 1-3, all outcode communities.

Famous = They are of high power/influence, known by all.

N/A = None of the above/probably a secret honestly

✦How much is planned about my character?: It’s a little different for each, as some are more developed for the plot than others. But for the most part, all of them currently have a set DC backstory, morals, and role to play in the overall storyline. They’re all included and have relationships with the new main character and each other.

✦This is great and all, but when can I see my character?: I... I really don’t know yet!! There will be many comics following DC, all interactive and character-based. Your submission will be included in one way or another, either as a main character, antagonist, or side character. Those stories just aren’t planned out yet, but I promise your character is there.

✦Yeah, but how long will it take for me to see them in-comic?: That... Depends entirely on how long it takes to make the new comics and actually implement your character. It won’t be a matter of years, but there might have to be some patience involved with how long it takes to make these things.

✦Can my character die or kill other characters?: Yep! None of them are dead yet, but none of you have plot immunity. None. And some of you are all chaotic evil assassins, so just... Keep that in mind.

✦Can I still change my character/request changes?: Yes. If you’re truly unhappy with how your character looks right now or later on, please tell me and I’ll try to change things. They belong to both of us and you will always have a say in what happens to them.

✦Am I being credited?: Absolutely. Either in the credits at the end, description, and/or conversation with the next audience, you’ll be credited for your character all the way.

✦This looks cool, can I submit a character now?: Depends. Tell me your plans and I’ll see if I can fit them in. If not, you’ll have to accept no for an answer. I want to accept characters all the time because of how flexible DC is but there’s a lot of complications involved.

✦This is really long can I stop reading now?: YES. YOU READ THROUGH IT ALL. CONGRATS.

✦I made a submission but it isn’t on here...: WAIT WHAT???? If you made and sent a submission in which I gave you a response and it’s NOT on here, PLEASE tell me immediately through Tumblr/Discord DMs and I will drop everything to get them and apologize for 55 spam messages

I can’t stress to you enough how amazing this was or how brilliant you all are at character creation. Some of you have absolutely incredible ideas and made some golden characters, all of which seriously helped out DC and the cast for future comics. You’re all endlessly talented and it was an honor getting to work with you and add your ideas to this project!! Thank you for making this successful and giving it a chance. I’ll see you soon.

#make an intra #thank you.

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rwbyconversations · 3 years

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RWBY Volume 7 Review

Two weeks out from Volume 8 and I finally cared enough to write this. Go team I guess.

Part of it came down to my feelings on Volume 7. It’s a complicated season that’s made me realize a lot of my overall feelings on RWBY as a series, particularly a lot of the less flattering feelings. Volume 7 is just... frustrating in general, as for all the good that it does have, and it does have a lot of great elements to it, it’s let down by a frustrating script and writing choices that feel distinctly amateurish, especially as the series moves on and gets better and better looking each year. There’s elements and kernals here of great character writing, season-wide arcs that land in a really good way and get me emotionally invested in the characters. But on the other... Ren only has two hundred words the entire season and you can tell!

Volume 7 is a season of dizzying highs, some of the best moments of the entire franchise... and some of the series lows. It’s a season where there’s no production reason for its shortcomings... it just comes down to an awkward script that focuses on the wrong elements far too often. Let’s talk about that. In a very long and drawn out manner.

Thanks to @jamesbranwen, @h-e-m-o-goblin and @retro-riffraff for help with GIFs and consultation on this review.

1) The Good Stuff!

A) Atlas is very pretty!

I cannot stress enough how on a set level, Volume 7 is leaps and bounds above the other seasons in sheer environmental detail and setting dressing. Mantle has a great atmosphere with its New York influences, the smog covered backgrounds and oppressive streets and alleys. Ironwood’s office which is deliberately designed to evoke astronomy themes to represent James’ love for the stars. The cold oppressive atmosphere of the Schnee Manor and how Jacques has begun warping it to glorify him with only lip service paid to Nicholas in public. Penguins!

There’s a lot of great set design work that went into this season and the crew deserve props for it. Genuinely.

B) Ironwood’s arc is the best character arc in the entire franchise

Yeah just wearing my heart on my sleeve there, I fucking love Ironwood and his character arc here in Volume 7 is the best written arc of the show. I simp for the tin man who just wants to do the right thing. This one season of content is better than a lot of the series-wide material being honest. I went back to James’s big volumes in the last month to rewatch the show and it’s interesting to see the early seeds in retrospect for where his arc goes. His need to protect everyone he can and the brutish measures he considers necessary for such an act, his conflicting loyalties towards Ozpin that manifest in both frustration at Oz’s seeming apathy to the growing conflict, but also desperate desire for validation from Ozpin that what’s he doing is the right call. After the Mistral seasons set up James as going off the deep end following Volume 3, having him open the season with an earnest smile, an immediate apology for the team’s arrest and trusting them with his plans for Amity and Salem is a jarring but pleasant surprise. He’s not been slacking off, he’s been trying to keep the world together in the way he thinks is best. He lets his guard down around the heroes and we see the good man underneath, which makes the moments where he raises his walls hurt all the more. While Em and Merc are still probably my favorite characters period, James is absolutely my favorite character in Volume 7 and Top 5 favorite characters series-wide. I’m very eager to see where he goes from here. He also rocks the beard and fixed his T-Rex arms so James came out of the washing machine that is Volume 7′s costume design. He truly is the Best Boi, and I cannot give Jason Rose enough credit for his performance this year. He hit every note of Ironwood’s character perfectly and I wish the fandom would give him more credit for giving James as much life as he does.

Oh, and as the obligatory comment on mlm rep that I am known for getting obsessively weird anon hate over: IronQrow hug nearly had me crying on a convention floor from how goddamn soft it was. Remember conventions? Ah good times.

This just... hits me... ya know? Seeing him lower his guard so much to come in for a hug just shows how isolated he’s let himself become to let himself have this moment of contact... Godamnit James. Also this is the second time after Martial Arcs that two guys hug and I really liked their ship for the following hiatus.

C) Soft Qrow hours are nice

Qrow’s a good guy, he went through a lot of bad stuff in Volume 6 but now he’s on the other side and purged his voice of the demon within. I think Volume 7 was a very good year for Qrow overall. It was great to see him interacting with more characters his age and lowering his own guard. His moments of letting the facade drop around James and Clover especially are great expansion for his character. Jason Liebritch hit the ground running as Qrow and gave him a far more dynamic range than I think Vic could. While I wish Qrow going off alcohol had been given more of a focus as it’s kind of done off-handedly that he’s gone cold turkey and otherwise doesn’t get brought up barring his revulsion at the wine in the Schnee Manor, he overall had a great year. And trust me I’ll get to the fights later, I have a lot more I can say about the bird boi there.

D) I liked the Ace Ops!

I was ambivilent towards the Ace Ops on first watching. They’re kinda underdeveloped in the context of the season at large and most people immediately pegged them as a miniboss squad/fodder for Salem to kill. But in rewatch they do still get to shine, if not as brightly. They’re very enjoyable. Clover especially is just really fun in retrospect, I love cocky fighters in general, and he was infectiously enjoyable (I’ve already covered the FG stuff in the past, not doing it again). Marrow came a close second because... well it’s Marrow, he is The Best Boi. Harriet got points for being a punchgirl which is always cool, I liked how her Semblance was shown and being cocky while being able to back it up is always a win. Elm and Vine are tied for dead last, I like the body diversity Elm introduces with her muscles and Vine... existed... but overall I think with the time they had, they did get to establish themselves well. I wish I could say that about their relationship with Team RWBYORNJ but this is the Nice Section so we’ll leave it there for now.

This is one of the best shots of the entire season. I adore it. God I like the Teryx design.

E) God the villains rocked this year!

I am a villain whore. I own that. I will embrace that monkier. But when they’re as cool as this, I feel validated in this Chilli’s tonight. Watts and Tyrian really make the season shine and don’t have a dud scene all season. They have great chemistry together, shining bright in even the weakest or most mediocre episodes. Watts went from “Oh yeah you exist” tier to “Oh yeah you rule” tier. His vendetta against Ironwood feels so real and pre-established, even though this season is the first time it’s ever come up. Watts just ozzes style in everything he does. The animators bring him to life and make every step, every flick of his twist and even just how he moves his eyes all bleed contempt. He’s such a rat and I love him! Chris Sabat finally gets to stretch his wings after a few years playing Watts as just Evil Scientist Guy, and he makes the most of it.

And Tyrian remains an absolute treat. He didn’t get much in V6 but here he takes center stage with Watts and also gets so much impact because of it. All the little twitches, and tilting of his heads, and dramatic gestures, he’s still just so goddamn cool to watch and we even get a little backstory of him. I know he’s irredeemable. But I just want to watch Tyrian kill people and scream. Like hot damn his line “THE GRIMM SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED OUR ENEMIES, NOT MADE THEM FRIENDS!” is so fucking raw. He’s having fun destablizing a nation with his boyfriend!

“You want more chaos than a Grimm invasion?” “If anyone on Remannt can do it, wouldn’t it be you?” There is no heterosexual explanation for how these two look at each other and yes this is me outing myself as a Nuts and Volts fan.

Watts and Tyrian really do become the absolute highlights of the season alongside James. They have a great dynamic and even during their more slower moments there’s so much care and thought put into their every mannerism. Animators, seriously, great job, I love what you did. And their fights... we’ll get there. But they’re so goddamn good.

Look they even run the same! They’re soulmates!

Honorary mention to Salem by the way. She’s only in two scenes but her presence is felt throughout Ironwood’s arc and his growing fear of her and she damn well delivers when she shows up. That shot of her arriving in person is a killer shot to end on as well.

Oh and I guess Cinder and Neo exist don’t they? Eh, we’ll come back to them.

F) Oscar got a character arc!

Finally! He did it! He got an arc that began, continued and ended all onscreen! It only took four tries!

But yeah Oscar had a really good set of scenes in Volume 7. I like him being the first to confront Ruby on the Ironwood lie, bringing up the hypocrisy after their condemning of Ozpin just last season. I like him having a more forward role (outside of not getting to be part of the celebration in episode 4 what the hell guys), and that he’s the big link between RWBY and Ironwood was a great call. Having Ozpin shelved for one more season so Oscar can take center-stage was an inspired choice. I love his dynamic with Ironwood, and how James closing himself off emotionally gets reflected in how he begins slipping in how he refers to Oscar, starting off as treating him and Oz as separate, ending with him gunning Oscar down as he doesn’t care anymore to differentiate the two.

My big issues with Oscar’s arc are that I’m first of all annoyed at the lack of followup on the Oscar stuff from V6, I’m still waiting for Qrow to apologize for punching Oscar guys! I also really wish Neo’s first attack wasn’t offscreen. CRWBY’s cliffhanger fetish meant I got to break out the Offscreen Pine jokes again. And of course, the Neo hallway punch was a bit bullshit.

G) (Most of) The fights are amazing

There’s no punchline. These fights are great, two of them are in my Top 10 Series Wide fights list and at least the duds aren’t Volume 5 bad.

If you’d told me before Volume 7 that Watts would get an extended firefight with James, I’d have felt that a bit cheap as Watts to me doesn’t feel like a fighter, more a planner who hides behind armies of mechanical soldiers. But damn if they didn’t sell me on Watts “You’ve yeed your last haw” Watts whipping out a Glock just to spite James.

This is another one of my favorite shots in the entire series.

Ironwood vs Watts is potentially my favorite fight in the entire series, and if it’s not, it’s easy Top 3 alongside Yang vs Mercury and Pyrrha vs CRDL/Mercury. It makes great use of Amity in the abandoned gravity biome meant for SSSN vs JNPR, with Ironwood and Watts deftly moving around in a manner that very easily could have been difficult to track with the constantly shifting gravity, but the crew do their best to keep it coherent as to who’s where. The credits showed their dedication also stretched into visual continuity, as James and Arthur’s route throughout the Arena was carefully considered so they’d loop around organically.

This is what I mean when I say the crew went above and beyond to keep things clean.

Ironwood vs Watts could have easily failed to impress, given its lack of choreography on the level the series usually does, but the team’s efforts went instead into showing a situation that lets Watts get a dragged out battle: James wins whenever he closes the distance here, so Arthur’s constantly on the run and being forced to tamper with the arena. Great camerawork, a GOD TIER song from Caleb Hyles that I’m still listening to today, and two characters with a fantastic history coming to blows makes for easily the best fight of the season and a series-wide highlight. Watching it develop from storyboards, to mocap, to animations and the full version is a delight to see. This is what CRWBY can do when everything comes togehter. The orchestra’s all tuned. It’s a goddamn symphony.

THIS is my favorite shot of the season.

Tyrian also gets to shine with his two battles this year. His alley fight with Qrow, Robyn and Clover is short but sweet, the corvid and the scorpion especially trading brutal blows in the cramped space. Qrow goes full Devil May Cry with his style-switching here, Harbinger being swapped between sword, tonfa and gun forms freely alongside Qrow applying The Power of Punching. His 1v1v1 with Clover and Qrow though is the true highlight of the season in terms of choreography. It’s lighting-fast, and has some impeccable shot work. Qrow gets to use his scythe with deliberate nods to the Red Trailer, Clover gets to shut up everyone who doubted his weapon, and Tyrian is just along for the ride and he makes the most of it. It’s frentic, it’s heart-pounding, it’s everything a fight should be.

Honorary mentions as well go to Ace Ops vs the Geist, which is just really fun and has a great backing music choice, the opening battle with Sabre having Ruby’s obligatory ten seconds of fighting that come at the start of every new era of the series, and the Ace Ops vs RWBY fight which has some good choreo in places.

H) Winter and Penny have good chemistry

I don’t have a ton to add here, I just like their dynamic and how they advance each other’s arcs. It’s nice writing. I also like Winter apologizing to Penny when she’s angry at Jacques and takes it out on Penny by accident with the “You wouldn’t understand” line.

Penny as a Maiden is a nice idea, I think her new design is cute. Penny says trans rights.

Those are a lot of my favorite things about Volume 7. It’s a killer season when it’s firing on all cylinders but unfortunately... it often misfires in frustrating ways, many of which are unfortunately due to core emblematic problems with the series that won’t go away.

2) The Bad Stuff

A) The costumes

It’s been a over year. It’s low hanging fruit. I don’t care. Most of them are still not good and they’re ludicrously over-designed.

Blake’s in a fetish suit and I wonder how she even goes to the bathroom. Weiss just looks like an abino Sabre alt, Yang is what a Halloween costume site would describe as “Sexy UPS Driver,” (why does she have a thigh window) Ruby... looks fine, it’s one of her better costumes. Jaune’s hair is silly, Ren’s model has lost some muscle definition and he looks like an e-boy, Nora’s costume really doesn’t fit the Atlas visual design and looks like a rejected Kingdom Hearts costume. Cinder’s is too black and I actually can’t track her in darker scenes because of it (which is kinda bad during... a fight scene... where I need to know where she is...), Neo looks like a Ren Fair cosplayer doing a bit for her OnlyFans, Winter’s is anatomically weird with super skinny arms and legs, and Blake’s hair is a fucking hate crime.

Qrow’s is one I liked at first but in retrospect it does feel like a downgrade. To quote @h-e-m-o-goblin from a Discord chat:

in a show like rwby, where color is such a vital defining aspect of every character, a cohesive colorscheme goes a long way. qrow's original outfit works great in this regard. neutral tones. greys, whites, and blacks, with red accents that pop against the otherwise sparse color. it's good! it's distinctive! it doesn't feel cluttered and it doesn't look like a clown vomited on him! the subdued colors really lend themselves to the grey, cynical energy qrow seems to carry with him. a literal lack of color in his life. the outfit itself feels like something he would wear; a combination of "clearly trying to look cool" and "a little disheveled and laid back." the design breathes, it isn't cluttered. let's contrast this with his vol 7 outfit. a lot of outfits in vol 7 suffer from this problem, but first and foremost it doesn't look like something he would wear. where his old outfit had a casual feel to it, his new look feels like someone dressed him up for a family christmas dinner. it's too... tidy. now of course you could argue this is him "cleaning up his life," but i dont feel like you have to sacrifice his own personal style in order to convey that. if that's really what they were going for, they easily could have just, oh i dont know, given him a cape that isn't tattered???

remember how i said qrow's original outfit really made his colors pop? how less is more when it comes to having a character with a specific color theme? vol 7 butchered that. we suddenly have articles of clothes that are tinted with greenish blue tones, browns, and with gold trim? on TOP of the old colors he already had in his design. it's muddy. it's ugly. the burgundy vest is fine, if they wanted to work more color into his outfit they should have done it that way throughout, shades of grey and different tones of RED. his COLOR. it just feels like they tacked so much on there without a second thought and i really think he deserves better. its just. such a mess.

The ones I did like were Watts’ new coat (I like the puffy hood), Penny’s is fine, the Ace Ops look great, Ironwood’s new outfit is stellar (those last six are great examples of how to do a lot with just primary colors of white and red), Neon’s Jolyne cosplay is cute and Flynt is slick. Otherwise, Volume 7 feels like it’s taken a lot of the wrong lessons from the costume design of the earlier seasons. Less is often more but now it feels like they have a pathological aversion to empty space on the costumes, leading them to feel like... costume vomit for lack of a better word. I didn’t love the Mistral outfits, but their modifications at least were carried by how many of them called back to the Fall of Beacon and emphasized the themes of loss in Volume 4. The new Atlas outfits... don’t have that shared theme. It feels like a hodgepodge of different design influences without trying to find a way to unify them. It’s like putting Baki the Grappler beside My Little Pony, they just fail to mesh.

Also for fuck’s sake already CRWBY just give the girls muscles already.

2) JNR suck and Ren’s arc is glorified character assassination

I don’t love JNR. They’re fine, but the show has arguably not needed them for a while and while I’ve liked them all at different points, it’s never been adoration outside of Ren in Volume 4. I was cool with the idea of them staying in Argus to help cover Mistral after its Huntsmen were wiped out, and Volume 7 has... made me wish they did that.

Jaune is just comic relief, and it kinda blows for later reasons but the big one is that he’s just not very funny. His big role in Volume 7 is basically to crosswalk some kids so we can have a joke scene during the Mantle Battle where Jaune uses his tactical genius to teach people to walk in single file. I feel like at this point Miles is just actively trying to kill Jaune’s fandom out of spite for how badly Jaundice was received. He’s never allowed to be cool or try and redeem himself. His hatedom aren’t going to stop hating Jaune because he gets more comedy guys. They’re going to stop when you write Jaune well. It’s a bummer he got some genuinely great upgrades for his sword and shield and never gets to use them outside of the opening.

Nora exists. She got a surprising amount of focus this season in that she got focus of any kind. I liked her confronting Ironwood over his choking of Mantle because we know she was once the kind of person Ironwood would have been stifling. I like her being the one to realize the loophole in Jinn’s “You can’t” line. I don’t like much else about Nora this year, or at least the Nora the writing team are pushing. She’s not funny like Jaune but Nora just absorbs so much screentime in the first half with her constant shrieking. Sam Ireland has good range but making Nora into Discount Harley Quinn is pushing her out of it. She sounds shrill, making Nora sound like she has no heart outside of the election rally. A shrill voice is one thing. A shrill voice that never lands a single joke? Yeah that character is tainted by association.

And Ren... oh God Ren what happened to you.

The Volume 7 commentary confirmed a suspicion of mine that Ren’s arc was heavily cut down from what was planned. Even watching V7 I could tell his arc was bare-bones at best, and it’s downright character assassination in places. Why is he suddenly so cold to Nora? Why is he now so obsessed with training? Why does he side with Ironwood for all of... one line which is this last between episodes 7 and 11. Ren only has two hundred words of dialoge in Volume 7 and they feel so weird in places. Ren goes from seemingly disliking Nora, to kissing her, to never referencing the kiss, to partaking in the Worst Scene Of The Season, all with no consistency. It’s not even threadbare. Ren’s arc just has no connecting tissue for so much of it! It’s insane how badly Ren was hurt by this, and I shudder to wonder how bad his Volume 8 arc will be because you know that was one of the first plotlines they cut down on when they inevitably overreached again.

I don’t know how they made Renora kissing feel unearned? But by God they found a way with how much of a trainwreck Ren’s writing is in regards to tainting this.

If Ironwood is an example of RWBY doing character writing well, Ren is the mirror image of how badly they can do. JNR really suffered from Volume 7 (also fun fact, Ren has about 200 words of dialogue? Ironwood has 4400). Maybe not to the level of irredeemable dislike? But very close to being on the same tier as Cinder of “Just go away already.” I’m not looking forward to their content in Volume 8.

3) RWBY themselves are poorly handled in Volume 7

It’s unfortunate that the actual title characters of the series are also some of this season’s weaker links. RWBY feel... superfluous to this season in a way they’ve never felt before. It’s baffling how much of the season doesn’t change if you just don’t include them, and apparently Volume 7′s first draft? Was even worse.

The commentary says that many of the RWBY moments were added later in production. Stuff like Ruby and Renora at the rally, Blake and Yang’s talk with Robyn and Ruby and Qrow’s chat were all either added in near the end of the writing or were “low priority” enough that they could have been cut which is... veyr alarming that’s stuff even the main protags have to worry about!

Ruby feels half-baked. I was looking forward to her in V7 after how V6 gave her a more dynamic personality and the focus she got in Brunswick, and having Penny’s return had me interested in seeing Ruby grapple with her emotions about it. She watched Penny die, how would it influence her to see Penny back and OK? Good question, we never get to see it. Ruby’s just OK with Penny’s return, the one time they touch on it Penny immediately glosses over it. Ruby just goes back to her old happy go lucky persona where any and all negative emotions are immediately forced down instead of confronting them and growing from them. I’m getting a little tired of Ruby bottling her grief and being teased about finally getting her snapping like a Twix Bar. We finally got her crying and it lasted all of ten seconds. And it doesn’t help that Ruby’s still getting shafted for fights. Her scythe choreography has no excuse being as flacid as it is now after Qrow vs Clover showed they can do scythe fighting! Why is Ruby being upstaged by (let’s be real) a supporting character! Why is she being limited to ten seconds of good combat then nothing for the rest of the season outside of flimsily swinging it or shooting. It’s disappointing, especially after how good V6 Ruby was.

I swear, Gravity’s not just my favorite episode of the season just because Ruby finally cries in it.

Weiss was kinda just done dirty though. At least Ruby has a good outfit. Weiss confronting her father has been a long standing plot thread for the series, it’s been Weiss’s Big Thing since the White Trailer. And when Jacques finally appears, he’s very... bland. He’s just evil corporate dude who exists less as an obstacle for Weiss and more just a roadblock for the plot through the election. Weiss finally gets a chance to take her father down and work to redeem her family name... but instead of earning said victory and it being treated with the same gravitas and emotional weight as Blake defeating Adam... Weiss has her victory handed to her. And it’s played for comedy by her abusrdly attractive mother.

Listen, I like I Willow Schnee. I think she’s a fascinating character and I like the idea of a person who is aware of the harm they’ve done by accident but is too broken to fix the issues she accidentally left. I love her calling Weiss out on her treatment of Whitley. But she is absolutely a Deus Ex Machina that exists to get Jacques out of the plot as fast as possible. You mean to tell me Hackerman Watts never once made sure Jacques had hidden cameras? Or that none of the staff found Willow’s cameras and reported them under the assumption they were White Fang spies? It’s so... convenient. It’s handing Weiss her victory on an unearned platter. Which sucks. I was really looking forward to Weiss beating Jacques. Instead she just gets given the plot device while JNR engage in the Worst Scene of The Season in that Whitley food stunt.

Me whenever I’m asked to rewatch Cordially Invited

Blake and Yang have much the same problems, in they never separate. I know they’re going to be together. I know CRWBY are making it canon (get it over with already). I still would like Yang and Blake to have individual character scenes. I’d like Blake and Marrow to talk about being a Faunus Huntsman in Atlas (another thing that got cut thanks to Robyn Hill). I want Yang and Ironwood to discuss their PTSD and have Yang thank Ironwood for his trust in her that he commissioned the arm despite Yang attacking Mercury. I want Blake to be well animated in fight scenes so she’s doing more than just jobbing so Yang looks better. I want Yang to stop hogging all the good Team RWBY choeography. I want them to interact with other characters and continue to grow instead of feeling like two halves of one character. And no, making a meta joke of how Blake and Yang don’t talk to other people doesn’t make it OK. It just means you’re self aware about your own faults.

(Also give Yang better merch or quit the favoritism. If you’re gonna milk her, put effort into it beyond crapply overpriced flannel. RT’s merch store is actively making me hate Yang.)

Team RWBY’s biggest contribution to the season is the Ironwood Lie which is... a can of worms. They certainly had a point in withholding some of the bigger truths from James but I feel by Pomp and Cirumstance he’d proven himself truthwrothy enough to warrant being told the truth about Salem. But then when he’s finally told the truth, it’s offscreen’d and the consequence isn’t “Why didn’t you tell me earlier” but “Fucking Ozpin man.” Gravity has it bite them in the ass, but it’s more an accessory to Yang and Blake telling Robyn about the Amity tower. I wish more had been done with the team disagreeing on whether the lie was a good choice or not, maybe have Yang be hardline against it due to her own “No more lies and half truths” policy instead of... having Yang tell more lies and half truths (Commentary confirms she never told Ruby and Weiss about the Robyn stuff BTW). But that’s a wider problem where RWBY aren’t allowed to disagree beyond surface level “I don’t know if this is the right call” dialogue. There’s never a threat of one of them cracking and just spilling the beans to James, everyone just blindly trusts Ruby and Qrow tells the audience “No this is different from when Ozpin lied. Trust us.”

This is the most RWBY get for content in the season finale: Ruby just nuking Cinder with no difficulty after having trouble with the eyes three episodes ago. Kinda lame tbh.

Team RWBY are just disappointing in Volume 7. They’re not given good animation, their story roles are largely insignificant, the impact of their roles on the story is threadbare and... well most of their costumes suck don’t @ me even CRWBY have admitted Blake and Weiss’s haircuts looked bad. It’s a whole barrage of a letdown for the main girls. And it’s really sad that the best scenes of the season... are usually the ones where RWBY are nowhere in sight.

Why the hell didn’t Yang get to keep the sunglasses come on guys. One job.

4) Robyn, the election plot, and the Happy Huntresses

Oh God, Robyn Hill is... not great. I could and likely will write a full meta on her character and how they bungled it but I’ll just be blunt here: I don’t like her design, the colors don’t mesh well, he head’s too small, Christina Vee is sleeping through the role and her weapon’s lame. Introducing her in a scene where she threatens to attack our heroes, and her agents are actively sneaking up on them to do it, is not a great first impression for a hometown hero. And that the commentary thinks she’s meant to be the hero in that scene is... staggering.

RWBY’s greatest threat yet is a wine mom Karen and her Home Owners Association army.

The election plot is less a misfire and more the engine just exploding. There’s so little good content between when it’s introduced and concluded, with it usually being individual scenes that are more good in spite of their connection to the plot (such as Tyrian’s massacre). It drags in pacing, going on for nearly half the season between episodes 5 and 10, and it purely exists as a roadblock to keep RWBY spinning their wheels while Watts and Tyrian keep going with the main plot. I don’t know why CRWBY went for this plot. They could have easily had something else fill the gap that also allowed for a lot of the character beats (such as Marrow and Blake’s talk and Ren’s entire arc) to shine, or at least condensed it to the important elements instead of letting it become bloated. It ends in such an unsatisfying way where Willow just shows up and goes “We have four episode left, here’s the plot device to beat Jacques, get back ot the main plot.” If they wanted to do the election plot, the best route would have been to give Volume 7 more episodes or stretch out its events to two seasons, but neither is realistically possible while RWBY lives off the teat of AT&T.

Jacques and Robyn are just boring. Evil corporate man and a lame adaptation of Robyn Hood who only has fans because of thirst who also like downplaying Robyn making a racist remark at Marrow (to say nothing of that weird subsection of Robyn fans who make her a Fox Faunus who cut her tail off to join Atlas Academy which is... certainly a creative choice especially when Marrow and Neon are punching holes in that angsty BS backstory). They can’t carry this plot and the artifical attempts to make it seem more exciting with the two cliffhaners ending on Mantle under riot or Grimm attack are laughably cut short by the next episode in each case opening the morning after. On binge watch it becomes weirdly funny more than anything and that’s not a good reaction. The dual cliffhangers being cheaply resolved is a short but succint example of V7′s pacing issues, and they almost always loop around to the election plot being too bloated, slow and just boring.

Also the Happy Huntresses are just... lame. I like their Semblances but that’s it. Fiona’s OK because she gets some screentime but May’s just “the surly one” and Joanna doesn’t even get her Semblance or much dialogue (oh wow she really is just a female Sage Ayana isn’t she). Robyn should not have been leading the HH and running for Council. That’s really stupid. And kind of wrong. Having May or Fiona be running instead while Robyn leads the team in relief efforts would have been better and could have split the focus more effeciently instead of leaving May and especially Joanna feelng like roster padding. There’s also some delicious irony in the show trying to frame the HH as the resistance fighting for the people and representing individuality, only for them all to have the same boring outfit and weapons (I think even the exact same model just with different sizes) while the Ace Ops are meant to be the military drones who are “Just following orders,” only for them to be more racially diverse, more diverse body-type-wise, and have more unique weapons. It’s another one of those odd creative dissconnects between what the writers wanted and what the artists/animation teams chose to do.

The election plot is overall toxin for Volume 7, and Robyn in my opinion, has one of the worst introductory scenes of any character in the franchise (and CRWBY have tacitly admitted that V7 had a character they were surprised at how controversial they were, which has to be Robyn). In a year where they were already juggling so much content and characters, adding in this bloated subplot was something I don’t think anyone wanted, especially now that we know we lost so much content on the sacrificial altar for this. It’s a black mark on the season and I don’t really care for the return of the Happy Huntresses or Robyn in Volume 8. None of them are interesting enough to care for outside of meta reasons like “cute.”

Also fuck you Fiona, can’t believe you got a shirt before Ironwood.

5) Cinder and Neo sure exist

To be fair, this is one of Cinder’s best years, easily her best since Volume 3 but that’s more because Cinder in the Mistral era was crap. (And if I wanna be cruel, because Cinder wasn’t in two thirds of the season)Her fans were finally vindicated after years of telling anyone who dunked on Cinder that “nooooo she has a super covert backstory that’s gonna be amazing when it’s revealed! You’ll see!” And well they finally got it. All of one line during a fight about how Cinder “refuses to starve.”

It’s still something so I guess we have to take it. Seriously... how do we still not have Cinder’s backstory.

There’s just not a ton to say about Cinder and Neo in V7 barring I that don’t think they needed to be here. They feel very superfluous and just here to have a big boss fight in Cinder’s case alongside continuing her streak of ending the odd numbered seasons fighting a female side character... which for me became an exercise in tyring to find during Cinder during the damn fight.

And this is why when most people saw Cinder’s V6 outfit they went “It’s gonna be hard to see her in darker environments,” then were vindicated when it became legit difficult to see Cinder in this scene. God if they at least just made the inside of the cape red it’d be easier.

Neo is Neo, which means she makes funny faces and mocks Cinder (I like that), but she doesn’t get a super good fight which uh... we’ll get to. I’m interested to see her finally exploding at Cinder and going for a backstab, but really Neo in V7 was kinda hit hard by the double whammy of the Oscar Hallway Punch and how humiliating ORNJ vs Neo was for ORNJ. Cinder’s definitely had far worse years and after how aimless she was in Mistral this feels like a sep in the right direction, but at this point CRWBY just need to shut up and tell us her deal. It’s been seven years guys. Come on. At least make her interesting if she’s gonna say around. They’ve had worse years, but unfortunately Cinder and Neo’s role in the finale leads into...

6) Some of the fights weren’t good

I wanna be clear, I like most of Volume 7′s fights. It’s just a bummer the worst ones are back and back and make up a chunk of the finale. ORNJ vs Neo is just crap. It’s the worst fight since the Battle of Haven. There’s nothing else I can say, it’s poorly animated, paced, choreographed and written. JNR especially are made to look like complete jokes after they spent all season training, to the point where it looks like V2 Yang could solo V7 JNR after this. Oscar I expect this from because he’s not allowed to have fun stuff onscreen after accidentally stealing the Haven budget for his fight with Hazel, but JNR were just done dirty. There were ways to make the fight work in a way where Neo still won but JNR looked good. They went for the worst possible outcome that just leaves Neo looking like she got fan-wanked and JNR looking like they’re just not allowed to be cool due to Miles’ spite at the Jaune-Self Insert stuff (and that’s not even getting into JNR being forced to run from lame rent a cops who can’t even handle a single Grimm). Cinder vs Winter and Penny isn’t much better, with her dark outfit making it very hard to track the fight because she blends into the background too well. It’s not a great showing for Winter or Penny given their earlier feats but, hey, some random female character had to fight Cinder in this odd numbered volume, carrying on Glynda, Pyrrha and Raven’s tradition. It’s at least better than ORNJ vs Neo, but that’s really not saying anything. At least Cinder’s VA work isn’t too bad this time but this fight commits the cardinal sin of a finale fight: It’s just not super interesting because we know Cinder can’t kill both Winter and Penny and she’s not becoming a Maiden, while Winter’s been too blatantly set up so it has to be Penny.

RWBY vs the Ace Ops also gets a dishonorable mention due to the choreography on display here... and the lack of it for Weiss, Blake and Ruby. Ruby never once swings Crescent Rose the entire fight and is just reduced to getting the tar kicked out of her by Harriet. Weiss barely gets to use her sword and largely just sticks to her summoning and glyphs which makes for a very visually uninteresting fighting style at the best of times. Blake just swings around and gets caught by the bad guys so Yang is motivated to fight stronger. She never dual wields (again) and her best moves are just setting up Yang to do all the hard work while Yang gets to personally KO two of the Ace Ops. There’s a lot that can be said about whether or nor RWBY earn the win, but while the animation team try to sell the Ace Ops landing heavy hits, having only Blake’s Aura even flicker really undercuts the idea from the commentary that this wasn’t meant to be a stomp for RWBY and they had to work together and be in synch to win.

Which is why Yang solos two of the Ace Ops whle Blake plays support, Weiss beats Marrow alone and then kill steals Harriet from Ruby, all while the song playing is an extended diss track from RWBY to the Ace Ops about how badass they are now, and the commentary itself says the Ace Ops are hard carried by Clover’s Semblance (because you gotta love basically saying four POC were only competent because a white guy led them, and then have them lose because said white guy wasn’t around to carry them!). Great job guys, you really sold it.

And talking of Clover, I feel it worth mentioning Qrow vs Clover vs Tyrian. It’s animation wise near perfect, but unfortunately I do feel it would be remiss to not mention that I feel the writing really has to bend over backwards to justify this fight. A lot of it is stuff I would say in that hypothetical Robyn essay, but I feel Robyn, Qrow and Clover all have to become massive idiots for this specific sequence of events to occur, and for Clover especially every retroactive attempt to explain why he prioritized Qrow over Tyrian just sounds more and more desperate. Between the references to MCU Captain America (a person whose entire arc is about learning when it’s OK to defy bad orders) or the attempt in the commentary to say “Oh Clover thought it would be easier to take out Tyrian alone instead of Qrow,” none of them land and just further drive home how much the plot had to stretch and reach to get that moment of Tyrian killing Clover. I like the fight. But I hate the road the show took to get there.

Some of the misc fights are also weak like ORNJ vs FNKI and elements of the Mantle Grimm battle, but those are the big offenders. Otherwise, again, the fights are largely good.

7) The soundtrack wasn’t... great

I mean the vocal songs only, don’t crucify me. Trust Love is just lamer Let’s Just Live/Triumph, Celebrate and Let’s Get Real are so boring I thought they were the same song until the OST dropped, Brand New Day is boringly peppy and Jeff’s vocals are dreadful. I completely forgot Touch the Sky until I was checking the tracklist to make sure I didn’t forget any songs. War has good singers but tries to sell the RWBY-Ace Ops bond as way deeper than it was. The lack of a villain song did really sting though, those are always the highlights.

There are good songs. I really like Fear, I feel it encapsulates the themes of the volume well and serves as a good condemnation of Ironwod’s mentality. Until The End is finally the Ruby song I’ve waited for since Red Like Roses 2 and I enjoy that she got a melancholic song, and Hero is easily, hands down, best track of the record and probably best RWBY track, full stop. Caleb killed it, I loved the second verse, opening opera was strong, guitar riffs were a plenty. Stellar work all around for that one.

The OST has great work from Jeff and Alex as usual, but the Jeff and Casey songs are really starting to lose their appeal. Going for a peppy feel this year didn’t help cover the cracks that are beginning to show with RWBY’s vocal songs (especially Jeff’s vocal range), and while a few standouts remain such as Fear and Hero, they are the slim minority in an otherwise very boring vocal tracklist that barely scrapes above Volume 5 for weakest set yet.

8) It wasn’t as funny as it thought it was

Comedy is subjective but man a lot of these jokes didn’t land. RWBY really needs to realize that does work in traditional 2D does not translate into 3D and just comes off as making official reaction GIFs for your Twitter account. Making characters SUDDENY SCREAM LOUDLY is not good banter. Please stop making Nora into Harley Quinn. Marrow was probably the most consistently funny character but that was it. Also I dunno why CRWBY thought Forrest was funny or what the deal was with that FRWBY crap.

“Honorary” mention to the JNR food scene in Cordially Invited which is genuinely one of the worst scenes in the entire show and I hope whoever animated it has their save files deleted for a game where they were about to beat the final boss. Nothing sums up JNR’s pointlessness in the series more perfectly than this.

C) Conclusion

See what I mean about Volume 7 being frustrating?

It’s weird that I overal think of Volume 7 as a mid-tier volume. There’s so much here I genuinely adore, with some of the best stuff to do with the show coming out of this season (barring lame, overpriced merch that feels like clothing gacha), but simultaneously the whole thing is let down by outside circumstances that unfortunately are ones the show can’t ever really recover from. Put bluntly, Volume 7 is the most technically proficient season of the show with the best lighting, backdrops, (some of the) character models, etc. CRWBY definitely didn’t slack off this year, but the problem isn't with them. It’s with the writing. A wider reaching problem is just that Miles and Kerry can’t really improve to the level that the series now requires. Eddy and Kiersei’s first season could have gone far worse, but it definitely was notable whenever they took over. Volume 7’s core problems are fourfold: The comedy is terrible and none of the jokes really land, the season focuses on the wrong plots and gives them too much effort, too many episodes are spent building up to new plots only for them to be weakly resolved (especially the Mantle Riot/Grimm attacks that are shoved off-screen), and the character bloat strikes hard here and leaves a lot of the cast feeling like dead weight. CRWBY don’t need more writers. They need more editors willing to tell the team what has to go instead of them hemming and hawing themselves on if they if they can include a plotline. The election never should have gotten past its first draft, there was too much already in this season before adding that.

When this is an unironic shot in your series... you’ve got character bloat issues.

At this point, I think JNR need to go. The show had no idea what to do with them throughout the season, leading to Jaune just being comic relief while Ren and Nora became characters I actively dislike. Renora was the easiest ship in the show to land, and they still managed to blow the engines and ram at least three icebergs just to prove that RWBY can’t romance to save its life. Team RWBY themselves are little better, with Ruby’s feelings about Penny’s return being shelved, Weiss’s victory against Jacques feeling un-earned and undercut by comedy, while Yang and Blake are benched for the volume and become a singular entity with how tied at the hip they are. Maria basically yeeted herself out of the show and I didn’t notice, Pietro is just a death flag, and while the Ace Ops had a good intro, it was undercooked by how they had to play the villain role to give RWBY something to do in the final hours. Cinder and Neo didn’t need to be here. Robyn had one of the worst introductions for a character I’ve ever seen, I never enjoyed her moments and it genuinely feels like she only has a fandom because RWBY’s community are in fact that desperate.

On the brighter side, Ironwood’s arc is fucking perfect and Jason Rose deserves all the love. Great fight, great song, great design, love the beard, it was a perfect downfall for Volume 7’s true protagonist. Qrow had a fun volume and I loved his dynamic with Clover (I don’t see the ship stuff but that’s more because I’m an IronQrow main so my blinders were on). Clover was also way cooler than I remembered. His fights stood out but the guy’s just really cool at the end of the day, with Chris doing great work as a VA. Oscar even managed to do stuff this year which was a shock and a half, but a welcome shock and a half. I didn’t mention it, but the Ozpin fear monologue is one of my favorite scenes in the entire show and it and the Ironwood/Oscar confrontation in the vault save the finale. And of course, Watts and Tyrian were the MVPs. I don’t have a bad word about either of them, they fucking nailed their roles and I can’t wait to see them again.

And that’s kind of what I mean when I say Volume 7 flummoxes me. It’s frustrating at times with how it handles seemingly easy tasks and drops the ball. Renora went from “everyone liked that” to wondering how badly Ren’s stuff got butchered for him to be the way he is. RWBY themselves could be almost entirely cut and so little would change, and the fact that the finale basically hinges its entire emotional stakes on Winter, Penny and Oscar is a staggering call. And it really feels like the season was compressed beyond necessity because they decided going in that Volume 7 had to end on Salem’s arrival. There’s two volumes worth of material here, and maybe it would have been best to have broken up these events. Volume 7 does too much in too little time, and RWBY especially suffered from it. But when it works… it’s good. Never close to the highs of Volumes 6 or 3, but there’s genuinely good material here. The fights are mostly getting better with far less missteps than previously, the acting (mostly) continues to improve and it’s obvious that RWBY is a very good looking show at this point. Ironwood’s arc is franchise-wide highs, I loved Clover, and Marrow remains the best boi. But it’s frustrating that despite all the tech advances Volume 7 has made, it still makes such threadbare, rookie writing mistakes in cast management, comedy and character arcs. I’m glad Miles and Kerry finally realized that they needed more writers, but it won’t mean anything if the show just continues to circle the drain on the core mistakes it’s been making since 2013. Volume 7 has good in it. But I can see where it could have been great.

Thanks for reading, stan IronQrow and please get Whitley a therapist.

And for the love of God already make an Ironwood vs Watts shirt!

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windstormwielding · 3 years

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How did you come up with Kotaro's zanpakuto? (i really love the bird theme of his attacks!) did you go through a lot of changes when coming up with names, abilities, and the general concept?

{ ooc } bUCKLE UP KIDDOS ‘CAUSE IT’S TIME FOR SOME LONG OVERDUE GODDAMNED KŌTA META-

Kōta’s zanpakutō was essentially conceived out of my own love for great big storms and heavy winds – and yes, I have a story to go with that! On one occasion many years ago, I hopped on a bus to visit a friend in town, but I was ill-prepared in that it was about to rain heavily and I had jack shit but a jacket. No raincoat and not even an umbrella. I thought I would make it there on time, buuuuut evidently, I did not. It already started raining and thundering hard by the time I walked out of the bus and had to walk a few blocks by myself.

And honestly, Plouton, looking back? I would not have changed a single little detail that day. Those several minutes I spent outside at the mercy of a live thunderstorm left such a huge impression on me! The incessant rain keeping me tethered to the ground, the sheer volume of deafening thunder cracking so hard and so loudly that the air around me quaked... pair that with times I’ve enjoyed feeling myself at the mercy of heavy winds, or even the smell of the outside after rain falls...

...pretty much all of that served as the biggest source of inspiration behind the wind and storm-oriented zanpakutō, and I wanted Kōta to embody that himself.

Besides, aside from Senna herself in Memories of Nobody, the Gotei 13 lacked a dedicated air-manipulating shinigami barring Kensei’s unique take on the topic with Tachikaze, and we’ve only seen antagonists use this power (Dordoni of the Arrancar within the main story, Kariya if you want to go filler with the Bounts... whom I’ve honestly forgotten about prior to creating Kōta WHOOPS) in the traditional sense. Not to mention, air as an element is SUPER malleable and there’s so much you can do with it if you get creative?? So, given we’ve got some real powerful element-leaning shinigami already with water (lbr Kaien would’ve been a beast had he not been nixed), fire (Yama), snow (Tosh), and electricity (Sasakibe), why not keep adding to the idea?

With that, we’ve got the main concept locked down. Powers and general theme? Check. Bird-like zanpakutō spirit? Check. Defined attacks? ...noooooot quite there yet—in fact, those were a fairly late addition well after the blog reboot. As for what led to it, this never took off since the other mun blipped on an indefinite hiatus, but our thread would have likely turned into a fight thread between our muses and uh...

...yeah, I realized named techniques are kind of an important thing to have, especially when writing within the context of an action-oriented series like Bleach. It wasn’t just about the cool factor, but having a readily available kit for reference (for myself, my writing partners, and folks reading in) was a must, not to mention it helped better define just what his main friggin’ weapon is capable of like those of most of the existing cast. In case a fight thread does come around in the future, it’d be an ideal thing to have ready to go and bring him further up to par with other fighters!

Just like that, I subjected myself to extra homework. Coming up with the moves themselves came to me simply enough, in seeing how air was played with in other media I was familiar with (key ones being Sonic the Hedgehog, The Legend of Zelda, and Avatar: The Last Airbender) and fashioning some of my own spins on top of some original ideas. I knew I wanted to lean hard on the bird motif since his zan spirit is a tengu, and given the wide variety of things the element of air/wind can do, I thought to make full connections between the two by theming each special move after certain species of bird! Creating those moves and naming them were the easy parts.

Naming them, that is, in English. Naming them all in Japanese was, by far, the hardest part. Why? Parce que je ne suis pas japonais, et aussi parce que je ne parle pas la langue, you see. On top of language barriers, the Japanese tongue operates on a whole other set of rules, compared to the Latin/Germanic-based ones I’ve grown used to with English, French, and (at one point) German. I did take some Japanese classes as an elective back in university, but that was only in first year – my own understanding, as a result, was threadbare and surface level at best, so that was not going to get me anywhere. I did not want to half-ass it with romaji and I love Bleach too much to not want to do these ideas justice.

I am a stickler when it comes to detail and canon-compliance, so getting the naming right by abiding to the proper conventions as best as I possibly could became my topmost priority. Google Translate was not going to fly because lord knows it’s no good without proper context between wholly different languages in English and Japanese, and it only gets wilder once you throw Chinese into the mix, given I’m supposed to use kanji. Thus, the name of the game here turned out to be “reverse engineering,” and I had to go in accepting I probably wasn’t going to get it 100% right the first time.

“What rules do zanpakutō names and special attack names follow?” “How do I apply on- or kun-reading in spelling out a group of certain kanji?” “Where are the common denominators in those rules that I can identify?” “Which language conventions have I already picked up from watching god knows how much anime over the years that I can replicate?” “Which set of words best conveys this particular English word that has no direct Japanese translation?” “How does [x] roll off the tongue? Does it sound right and fluid enough, or does it still feel super stilted and weird?” It was a loooooooot of this until I was finally satisfied with each individual end result!

Tl;dr: Jisho.org and Wikipedia were godsends during this whole process. I also want to thank @tigrextoque who gave me some helpful pointers after the fact!

ALSO... the ones on the Battle Info page aren’t even all of the ones I’ve thought about. Because I’m a glutton for punishment apparently, I purposely went and submitted a request for a certain ask meme on an ask meme source blog, JUST so I could play around with more ideas that came or would come to mind. This time, however, it was through the form of COMBINATION ATTACKS (which, by virtue alone, are honestly peak awesomeness). Those that implicated other shinigami got new bird motifs to meld the aesthetics of both muses, while I did get a couple of Quincy ones (with their referenced attacks actually using romaji as a base! Whoo-hoo for saving me the effort!) as a bonus to mix things up!

I’ll link them all right here (and later on the Battle Info page) for your convenience:

Noboru no mai, Shiro Fukurō (騰の舞・白梟, Rising Dance, Snowy Owl), with Rukia Kuchiki

Ahōdori Kyōka: Flying Battery (群烏強化: フライングバッテリー, Albatross Strengthening: Flying Battery) with Bambietta Basterbine

Muragarasu Kyōka: Galvano Volley (群烏強化: ガルヴァノボレー, Flock of Crows Strengthening: Galvano Volley), plus upgraded variant Muragarasu Kyōka: Galvano Storm (群烏強化: ガルヴァノストーム, Flock of Crows Strengthening: Galvano Storm), with Candice Catnipp

Hagetaka Rinbu (禿鷹輪舞, Vulture Round Dance) with Rangiku Matsumoto

Senkō-fū: Kitsutsuki (穿孔風: 啄木鳥, Drilling Wind: Woodpecker) with Nemu Kurotsuchi

Gyaku-fū Fūsa: Benizuru (逆風封鎖: 紅鶴, Headwind Blockade: Flamingo) with Byakuya Kuchiki

Hikuidori Hinshō (火食鳥頻傷, Cassowary Frequent Cuts) with Ueno Chie

Yes, “Flying Battery” was a deliberately written Sonic the Hedgehog reference. No, I will never apologize for that.

...might I reblog that meme again in the future though...?

...probably not right away.

So, uh... Plou, I should probably apologize for giving you a lot more than you likely bargained for, but hey, I just didn’t want to leave any stone unturned! Thank you so much for sending me your three questions, I enjoyed writing these little deep dives into my Bleach OC, and thanks for taking interest in Kōta! I hope all of my responses have been both enlightening and to your satisfaction.

#deivorous #{ i’m falling free in the wind ☁ headcanon ☁ }#{ cut for length }#{ whispers in the wind ☁ replies ☁ }#{ beyond the sky ☁ ooc ☁ }#{ ooc: we hope to return to our regular programming tomorrow-! }#{ i just could not focus much until i answered all of these hahahaha- }

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roseskiesandbutterflies · 3 years

Text

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26

Ask or comment to be on my taglist! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s) or series. Full list is in my bio.

Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

************

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

************

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

*************

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

#good omens #good omens headcanon #good omens fic #good omens imagine #crowley #crowley headcanon #crowley imagine #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale headcanon #Ineffable Husbands

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athina-blaine · 4 years

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MoMM Update! - What to heck?

Hello, everyone! Unfortunately, Chapter 2 is still under works– the hiatus we mentioned back in our first update post has arrived and MoMM has to take a bit of a backseat for now. I was definitely overzealous in flinging around posting dates the way I did, and I apologize for that; I’d hate to have inflicted any unnecessary disappointment. I promise to practice more reservation in the future!

In the meantime, I’ve decided to go ahead and post the first half of the chapter under this cut– 6k words, 17 pages, I got it all right here for ya. [pats top of post]

Enjoy!

THE MONSTER OF MAGNUS MANOR

CHAPTER 2

THE ESTATE

(Chapter 1 here!)

Martin’s dreams were murky things, cut to the clop of fading hoofbeats and a pair of frightened eyes– eyes that kept locking with his own as the world faded in and out. At some point they’d manifested fully into a man– he was saying something, a string of urgent, unintelligible words that blistered the air around them.

“–tay with me, don’t– no, no, no, no–”

Martin’s vision greyed out before he could make out the rest.

When he resurfaced, he was lying in a … a bed? Was … this the castle infirmary–? No, he didn’t think even Lord Barclay’s mattress was this comfortable. And the rock slab cots lining the servants’ infirmary didn’t have four poster canopies, either …

Strange dream. Everything wobbled, and grew dark again.

And then he was blinking awake. The bed and its canopy were still there, as lavish as they’d been in his dream.

“Are you awake properly, this time?”

The unfamiliar voice had Martin lurching upright. Pain zinged through his skull; he groaned, pressing a hand to one eye.

“I don’t know,” he breathed. “I-I guess so?”

The man sitting beside him let out a slow breath, some of the stiffness unwinding from his posture. “You’ve had a few false starts,” he explained. “Understandable, given your head injury.”

Head injury. The events from earlier came rushing back to him– Martin’s vision was still swimming, but he recognised this man, or the colour of his eyes, at least. They were the same shade of brown as the mysterious figure from the fog. He’d since pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing dark skin marred with pockmarks on one side of his fine-boned face. His hair had been tied up in a silvering bird’s nest of a bun, and a few thin strands had fallen to brush the shoulders of a richly embroidered vest.

Martin tallied it all up: posh manner, fine clothes, the thin, borderline regal cut of his face. Despite the incongruity of his scars and disheveled hair, the facts pointed to one thing– this had to be the lord of that mysterious estate.

A mysterious estate he was now inside, with an injury that had stars dancing before his eyes. “How–” Martin started, then paused to steady his breathing. “How long was I out?”

“Not long.” The man pulled an ornate pocket watch from his vest pocket, squinting. “It’s about five o’clock.”

“In the afternoon?”

“Does it look like five o’clock in the morning to you?” the man demanded, gesturing to the window. He was right; a weak orange sunset had begun staining the sky, casting dark shadows from the treeline over the estate’s grounds.

“No.” The word had been torn from Martin’s mouth with a burst of horror. He scrambled for the sheets, startling a noise from his host.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Martin wasn’t listening; the image of Lord Barclay’s cold eyes as he told him, in unequivocal terms, that he was sacked had sent a low, buzzing static through his ears. “I’m sorry, thank you for taking me in, but I need t– I need to–” He had to get back– for his mum, if nothing else. Oh, God, if he lost this job now …

“What you need is to lie back down.” Martin’s bare foot had scarcely touched the floor before the man rose to his feet, thrusting a hand against his chest. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You’ve been concussed.”

Martin was unceremoniously shoved back down. He could’ve fought back– the stranger’s wrists were stick-thin where they stuck out past the sleeves of his tunic, and Martin wasn’t exactly small– but the sudden motion sent a wave of dizziness crashing over him, and Martin couldn’t summon the strength for it.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” the man said, eyes fierce. “In your current state, you’ll collapse before you ever make it out of this forest. Is that what you want?”

The words hung in the air between them. Martin swallowed, shaking his head.

“Then lie down.”

Cowed, Martin sank back into the mattress. Once it was clear he wasn’t struggling, the man relaxed, withdrawing his hand from Martin’s chest.

“Thank you,” he said, sitting back down. Then his shoulders sagged. “I … apologise. I’m sure you have somewhere important to be, and you’ve been hurt as a direct result of my actions. Please believe me when I say this was not my intention.”

A heavy note of guilt rang through his voice, and Martin’s chest panged with instinctive sympathy. “I-it’s fine. It was just an accident.”

If anything, the grim set of his host’s mouth worsened. “I should also warn you– your horse ran off. I tried looking for her after bringing you here, but she doesn’t appear to be in the area.”

Oh God, Phillipa. “… she’s resourceful,” Martin said, but it was much weaker this time. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s found her way back home already.“

The stranger kept his gaze trained on his hands. “ … I– yes, of course. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.” Abruptly, he stood once more. “I assume you’re hungry? Now that you’re awake, I can bring you something to eat.”

Martin jumped. “Oh, uh.” It would have been a full day since he’d last eaten, by now. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep anything down. Based on the strange intensity in the man’s eyes, though, only one correct answer existed. “Y-yes, I– um, thank you. Actually some– some tea would be nice?”

A single, sharp nod was his only response; the man turned on his heel, making a beeline for the door.

Martin held out a hand before he could stop himself. “Wait– wait.”

The man turned, arching one brow, and heat washed over Martin’s face. He hadn’t actually had anything important to say, but they hadn’t even exchanged names.

“Sorry, I just … wanted to thank you. For– for taking me in.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Martin, by the way. Martin Blackwood.”

“A … pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Blackwood.”

Martin flushed. "Oh– just Martin is fine. Um … c-can I ask for your name?”

Silence stretched taffy-thin between them as his host studied him, expression unreadable. Martin’s breath stilled in his lungs– was he being measured up? Found wanting somehow? He’d only asked for a name–

“Jon.”

Martin stiffened, but with a snap of his cloak, the man vanished, closing the door behind him.

Jon.

Martin wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. Jon. It was so … common. Approachable, for such an unapproachable man. Perhaps it was a family name.

Musings about Jon’s name could only distract him for so long, however, with his worst case scenario waiting for him back in the real world. Barclay would make him beg if he wanted to continue working in the castle, especially after last night’s disaster.

Martin dropped his head in his hands. He was as good as sacked.

Distraction. He needed a good distraction. Anything to take his mind off agonising– not like he could fix anything confined to a bed by a stranger.

Lifting his head, he took a moment to peer around the room. It was bigger than the servants’ dormitory he shared with the others back at Barclay’s castle. To his right was an old, carved wardrobe; the desk and chair beside it had been made out of smooth mahogany. Paintings, their colours dulled by time, were hanging lopsided on some of the walls– a stark contrast to the faded wallpaper beneath them. Settled over it all was a fine layer of dust; only the chair, and the bed Martin was lying in, had been cleared of it.

Obvious disuse aside, even Lord Barclay’s accommodations weren’t this opulent. An unexpected twinge of guilt shot through Martin’s chest, as if he was doing something wrong. Stealing comfort that didn’t belong to him.

By the time Jon came back, the sunset had shifted from orange to a slow-burning red that dappled the sky. Tucked in the crook of his elbow was an unidentifiable bolt of cloth, and in his hands, a dinner tray. A silver dinner tray. “I apologise for the simplicity of the meal,” Jon said. “It’s … been some time since I’ve had the opportunity to cook.”

Had … was Jon implying that he, the lord of this house, had cooked for Martin? Martin swallowed, tearing his gaze from Jon back to the tray. Why wouldn’t the kitchen staff be making his meals?

Jon didn’t hand him the tray so much as he slid it into Martin’s lap; on it was a bowl of boiled vegetables, and next to that, a steaming cup of tea. Simple, yes, but Martin was grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you, really,” said Martin, entirely too genuine. Under the attentive eyes of his host, he shovelled a spoonful of turnip and carrot into his mouth, and started to chew. He stopped.

Jon leaned forward, poised. “How i– er, that is, I hope it’s to your satisfaction.”

Martin steeled himself and kept chewing, scrambling for a neutral expression. While the outside of the vegetables were soggy, their insides crunched against his molars, sending shudders down his spine. Underboiled, his mind supplied helpfully.

It was, perhaps, one of the worst meals he’d eaten in his life.

“It’s great,” he lied, smiling past the curdling in his stomach. Jon had made this himself, and Martin was going to die before he willingly insulted a lord to his face.

Jon released a quiet breath. “That’s … good.” He unwound the cloth draped over his forearm; it was a nightshirt and cap, made of fabric that could’ve been water for how it piled onto the sheets. “These are for you to wear to bed. You can find something to change into tomorrow in the wardrobe. Please inform me if there are any that don’t fit.” He winced. “And you’ll have to excuse me if you find anything that’s been chewed through. It’s impossible, keeping the moths out this time of year.”

“Tha– thank you?”

“You, ah,” Jon hesitated, before clearing his throat. “Seeing you’re here because of me, you’re welcome to stay until you’ve made a full recovery.” His voice grew guarded. “My only stipulation is that you remain in your rooms at night.”

Martin paused.

It wasn’t that unusual of a request– Martin was a stranger, of course Jon didn’t want him wandering about at night. No, what snagged Martin’s attention was the faint, nervous hitch of his shoulders as he said it.

“O-of course.” Martin’s throat bobbed. “Is it– can I ask why?”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Oh, hell. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right. I-it’s just, I don’t know …” kind of strange? But the impatient twist of Jon’s mouth stopped him cold.

The silence dragged, then Jon crossed his arms. “I have a dog.”

“A … dog?”

“Yes. Big, vicious thing. He … patrols the manor at night– and he’s not partial to strangers.”

Oh. Well, that … that made sense, didn’t it? Still odd, though– Barclay had a whole team of hunting dogs, and none of them were allowed to wander the grounds without supervision. They weren’t pets, and they certainly weren’t guards. It appeared this one was, though.

“What’s his name?” Martin asked, before he could think better of it.

“What?”

“The dog.” Martin held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, it’s just, I love dogs. My neighbors had one when I was a kid. Ol’ Frankie.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed even further. “John.”

“… John.”

“Yes.”

“John … the dog?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You named the dog after yourself?”

The look Jon shot him was equal parts baffled and incredulous, as if he were ludicrous for asking. “I came into possession of the dog after it received its name. And, besides, it’s John, spelled with an H.”

“I … see.” Martin didn’t see. “Obviously.” It had not been obvious.

Jon glowered, daring him to continue, then reached into his pocket. “One last thing. I noticed … well, here.” With an oddly stiff motion, he held out a small glass jar of salve. “For your hands. It would be irresponsible of me, as your host, to let them ulcerate unchecked.”

Startled, Martin glanced down at his hands– they were still covered in blisters from scrubbing last night’s mountain of dishes. He’d forgotten about them in all the chaos.

“Th-thanks,” he said, accepting the jar.

Clearing his throat, Jon stepped back. “I’ll let you finish your meal. You can expect me tomorrow morning with breakfast.” One hand on the door, he hesitated, then added in a soft undertone, “Get some rest.”

Jon was gone before Martin could answer. He was alone once again.

Unscrewing the lid of the jar, Martin gave the ointment an experimental sniff– honey and almonds. He scooped out a dollop and rubbed it into the damaged skin of his hands, sighing as it cooled the sting of his blisters. Astonishing, that Jon had noticed at all– Martin was so used to it, he would have left them to rot on his own.

He finished his dinner, half out of pragmaticism, half because he didn’t want to risk insulting his host. At least the tea was good.

Tray set aside, Martin began unbuttoning his dress shirt. What an unusual sight he must have made, passed out on the ground in formal wear. The clothes Jon had provided were silky against his skin, marred only by the must of disuse– still a luxury for a person with Martin’s background.

It wasn’t enough to distract him from the cold knot of trepidation that twisted inside his stomach. But Jon had been right; even if he had known the way, he would never make it back in his current state, especially without Phillipa.

At the very least, things couldn’t get much worse. There was solace in that.

Martin settled back against the pillows. With so many thoughts racing through his head, sleep should’ve been impossible– but the moment he closed his eyes, the rest of the world slipped away.

“Here you are!” Martin’s eyes flew open as Charles dropped the tray into his arms. Its contents had been obscured by a covering; Martin couldn’t make heads or tails of what was inside, but whatever it was, it was heavy enough that he buckled under its weight.

Charles winked. “Better you than me, right?”

“R-right.”

“Well, go on then. He’s hungry!”

Pulse pounding in his ears, Martin scurried into the dark hallway. None of the candles had been lit, but he knew the way by heart. His arm shook under the weight of the tray– carrying it with both hands would’ve been easier, but that wasn’t proper. And Lord Barclay was so particular about being proper …

The grand door leading into the dining hall drew closer, and a coil of apprehension burrowed into Martin’s gut. An unusual smell had started emitting from the platter– sweet and gamey, meat mixed with sugar glaze. His feet moved, relentless, and with every step, that sinking pit of dread at the core of him grew heavier.

He opened the door. The dining hall was empty, save for where Barclay sat at the head of the table. A single lit candle shone down on the dozens of empty plates surrounding him. Barclay wiped his mouth with a pristine napkin, and waved Martin forward.

Martin’s hands were trembling. He placed the tray on the table in front of Barclay, in between the scattered, stained plates. At his Lord’s signal, he removed the covering with as much flourish as he could.

It was empty.

The hairs on the back of Martin’s neck stood on end. Run, his instincts screamed. Get away, now!

Barclay looked up at him, green eyes glittering dangerously. “Well?”

Martin started– at some point he’d been lowered into a chair. In ginger increments, he leaned over until his head was resting against the cool metal plate, each shuddering breath fogging its silver coating. Barclay reached for his utensils; Martin squeezed his eyes shut, praying that, for once, Barclay wouldn’t start with–

“Eyes open.”

Swallowing, Martin obediently pried them back open. The fork hovered out-of-focus, brushing his eyelashes.

Somewhere beyond Barclay’s hall, a voice brushed against the edges of his hearing.

“–Hello?”

The fork plunged down–

Martin jolted awake, his hair drenched in sweat. Sunlight was pouring in through the window, illuminating swathes of dust motes floating through each beam. It must have been around mid-morning. Reflexive panic welled in the back of his throat (late, oh God, he was so incredibly late) before the events of yesterday came back to him. The panic slipped away, dulled with leaden resignation.

Sleeping in was nice, at least; when was the last time he’d been this indulgent? Giving in to the mattress’ siren’s call was tempting– he could have slept longer, waited until Jon came to wake him up. But while the dreams’ contents had slipped away faster than he could recall, their weight sat heavy on the back of his tongue. He wasn’t particularly interested in returning.

Taking a chance, he tossed aside his blanket and slid onto his feet. His heart lifted– had he recovered enough to make it back to the castle?

The world spun on its axis, and Martin caught himself against the wooden bed poster before he collapsed.

Ah. As if he could be so lucky.

With one hand against the wall for support, Martin shuffled his way over to the wardrobe. The hinges creaked as he opened it– Lord, everything here needed a good cleaning. He’d have been tanned for letting a room fall into this much disrepair on Griffiths’ watch. Hopefully, the clothes would be in better–

Martin’s mind blanked. The clothes were indeed in better shape, but the options inside were … far more expensive than he was used to wearing. Was Jon not worried about Martin ruining them? Although they must’ve belonged to someone else– these were all too big for Jon. Whoever they belonged to, Martin prayed they wouldn’t mind him wearing their clothes.

He selected the plainest tunic and trousers he could find among the ornate, embroidered lot. None of them had moth holes, at least; Jon would be happy to hear that.

Speaking of his mysterious host …

As soon as he was confident he could walk without falling over, Martin opened the door to the hallway, glancing out into the hall. No dog; that was a good sign. Jon had mentioned bringing breakfast– the smartest idea was for Martin to wait inside his room, but his curiosity was burning. What did the estate of such an eccentric lord look like, anyway?

Surely he could risk a quick look around before Jon arrived.

Martin closed the door behind him with a gentle click, eyes roving over the hallway.

It appeared that the estate of a lord like Jon looked incredibly dusty.

Martin dragged an experimental finger over the surface of a nearby windowpane; it came back smeared with grime. Griffiths would’ve died on the spot– what on earth was Jon’s staff doing? Taking advantage of Jon’s generosity and shirking their responsibilities?

He picked a direction at random and began to walk, keeping one eye peeled for someone who could point him in a useful direction. This section of the manor appeared to have been functionally abandoned, though; perhaps Jon had wanted to ensure Martin’s privacy, although that seemed like an unnecessary effort.

By the time he reached what must have been the grand staircase of a foyer, he still hadn’t encountered another living being. Martin faltered, eyes grazing over the crusted windows, before dipping to linger on an old, broken gramophone at the bottom floor.

Where was everybody?

He continued trailing through the manor, more apprehensive now. Each step brought with it the sense he was a misplaced ghost; alone and drifting, untethered from reality. The layout of the hallways had a labyrinthian element to their design– a wise man would have turned back at risk of becoming lost, but …

It was as if someone had wrapped a string around his joints, tugging his feet forward. Martin couldn’t have turned back even if he’d wanted to.

His footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, crescendoing until they threatened to drive knives into his eardrums. No other noise penetrated the corridors; even the milky light filtering through the manor’s windows couldn’t reach him. The outside world had been choked off, as effectively as it had in the fog.

Panic swelled inside his lungs. Was there really nobody here? In a desperate bid, Martin threw open the first door to his left, hoping someone, anyone, would be on the other side.

Instead, he found the library.

Stumbling backwards, his jaw went slack.

Martin had only seen two libraries in his life: the small, tattered bookshelf in the back of his mother’s church, and Lord Barclay’s personal collection– although the servants couldn’t make any selections for themselves. An entire room full of books, Martin had assumed it was among the largest collections of its kind.

He’d been wrong.

What stood before of him now were two stories worth of wall-to-wall bookshelves, brimming with texts and tomes in exquisite leather bindings. The scent of old parchment tickled Martin’s nose, sending him back to that dusty corner of the church, escaping through tattered parables and hymns.

Entranced, Martin stepped into the enormous room, leaving the door hanging open behind him. Giddy compulsion had him plucking out the first book he laid eyes on. A cookbook; although the language inside was unfamiliar, every page had been filled with mouthwatering illustrations. He selected another book at random: this time, a book of astronomy. And after that, a love story. Martin fought the urge to laugh, breathless. Just how many different books did Jon have?

Tucking all three in the crook of his arm, he continued down the aisle, reverent fingers brushing over each spine as he passed. A vast majority of them had been left untouched; preserved, perhaps, to maintain the appearance of esteem. That was the only reason Barclay ever added to his works. But occasionally, he’d come across a book with frayed pages, its spine threadbare.

Not mishandled, though. None of the pages had been dogeared, or the bindings broken. No, these carried the air of a book well-loved, read so many times over the years they’d been worn down to the glue. Martin took those with him as well, adding them to the growing collection in his arms.

When the first throbs of a sharp ache began pulsing at the back of his head, Martin ignored it. He couldn’t just leave, not with so much begging for his attention. When would he ever come across an opportunity to browse through a collection like this again? No, he had to make the most of it, while he still could.

But as Martin reached the far corner of the library, he slowed. A door was tucked away here, in a corner where no sunlight reached. It was nondescript, out of place in its simplicity– and yet, something about it drew Martin closer. Cool air seeped from between the door’s cracks, beckoning his curiosity.

His fingers grazed the brass handle–

“Don’t touch that.”

Martin yelped, books crashing to the ground.

Jon was standing at the end of the aisle with eyes like chips of ice. Heat bloomed across Martin’s face. This hadn’t been how he’d planned to encounter his host again: caught like a child sneaking sweets from the pantry.

“Sorry,” he stammered, scrambling to scoop up the fallen books. God, he’d dropped them. “I-I wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”

“How many times do I have to say the word concussed before it sinks in?” With a sigh, Jon bent over to pick up the remaining books, depositing them on a random bookshelf before swiping the rest from Martin’s hands. Martin flinched, and the lines around Jon’s mouth deepened. "You’re in no condition to be wandering, let alone nosing around into places you shouldn’t.”

“I– I wasn’t trying to, to snoop or anything–”

“Really.” Jon shot a cool, pointed glance at the door. The flush crawled down to Martin’s neck, prickling in time with his erratic pulse.

“Sorry,” he said again, lamely. “I really didn’t mean to– I-I was just … curious.”

“Curious. Of course.” With a sigh, Jon dropped the remaining books into another untidy stack, clapping dust off his hands. “I’ll show you back to your rooms– breakfast is waiting for you.”

Jon shouldered his way back out of the aisle, leaving Martin no choice but to follow. He was too embarrassed to protest even if he wanted to, but– his eyes lingered on the stack of books as they passed, mournful. It would have been nice to read at least one.

Jon urged him back into bed as soon as they reached Martin’s rooms, then turned to the breakfast tray he’d left on the desk. Martin fought down the growing dread at what Jon could have possibly prepared for this morning– but when Jon placed the tray on the bed, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Bread, butter, and a bowl of chestnuts. Absolutely no risk of anything overboiled here. And the bread was fresh, too– delicate wisps of steam rose to curl in the dusty air. Had Jon made this himself as well? It had come out better than the first meal, that was certain.

“Thank you,” Martin mumbled, picking up the bread knife to smear butter over a slice.

Jon’s frosty expression didn’t change. "Why in the world did– I can’t imagine what possessed you to roam around this morning. Do you have any idea what I experienced when I found you gone?”

A spasm of guilt tangled in Martin’s gut. “S-sorry. I just … wanted to look around, a little.”

“There’s nothing worth looking at. This place may as well be a mausoleum.”

Martin’s head whipped up. "You can’t mean that.”

A wry silence.

“Seriously? But your– your library is amazing! I’ve honestly never seen anything like it.”

“Th– the library?” Some of the severity in Jon’s expression vanished; he blinked, opening and closing his mouth. “ … Oh. Well, thank you, I suppose. But I’m, ah … I’m not the owner of that collection.” A shy, almost pleased note crept into his voice. “I did help retrieve a few of the rarer tomes, however. ”

Slice of bread halfway to his mouth, Martin paused. “You … but I thought …?”

One arched brow crept toward Jon’s hairline. “You thought … ?”

“I’m sorry, but– aren’t you the lord of this place?”

“No.”

Martin took a moment to process this sudden collapse of his mental image for Jon. “But then who … why are you …?”

For someone so young, Jon had far too much stress lining his face. “It’s … complicated. You could say I inherited this place from its previous owner.”

“Your father?”

“No,” Jon said, blanching. Then, without warning, he pitched forward. “I’ve been wondering if you’ll entertain a question from me.”

Martin jolted, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “Y-yes?”

Jon smoothed a hand over one of his cuffs. “You were dressed too nicely to be working in someplace like a smithy. But your hands … I assume you’re a labourer of some kind?”

“Oh.” Flustered, Martin set down the piece of bread. Why would Jon want to know a mundane thing like that? “I’m, um, I’m a server in Lord Barclay’s estate, actually.”

“Barclay?”

“Yes, Lord Barclay. Lord Frederick Barclay?” Jon was still frowning. “Your Lord. Your Lord, if you live in this region.”

“You really expect me to know the name of every noble that goes parading themselves around these parts like an arsehole?”

“I-I … suppose not?” Martin didn’t understand how Jon couldn’t know, though. What about his taxes? “H-how about you?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, you said the library wasn’t yours, right? And … you said you’re not the lord of the estate, yeah?”

“In a legal sense, no.”

Well that was an interesting answer, but Martin was learning not to ask for elaboration. “So, what do you … do?”

Jon scowled. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“S-sorry.”

“You apologise a great deal, you’re aware of this?”

“S–” Martin bit it back just in time, and Jon blew out a haggard, long-suffering sigh.

“But I suppose it’s only a fair trade. If you really must know, I was – am, I suppose – the Head Archivist of this estate.”

Martin’s brows flew up– Head Archivist? That had to be rather prestigious. Did Barclay have a similar role anywhere present in his staff? The only thing Martin could think of that compared was … “So, like a librarian?”

“Not like a librarian.” But Jon’s mouth twitched. “I suppose there is some overlap. It was more than just filing books and keeping things tidy, though. We were also researchers.”

Martin perked up. “We?”

“… Yes. I … I did have a team working alongside me, previously. We researched unusual encounters, on behalf of our patron.”

“What kind of unusual encounters?” Fascinated, Martin leaned forward. “You mean like, like love affairs?”

“Nothing as salacious as that.” A slight smile broke out across his lips. “Although there– there was one time … ”

He stilled, trailing off. The fragile warmth that had been growing behind his eyes shuttered.

“Although … ?” Martin prompted after a beat.

Jon’s expression could’ve been carved from stone. He said nothing, shoulders hunched under some unseen burden.

A suspicion had been brewing in the back of Martin’s mind since his crawl through the manor’s hallways, and now, with Jon coiled tense as a spring in front of him, it came roaring back full force. Well, if there was ever a time for inquiries … “Can I ask you something?”

Jon huffed, and Martin winced.

“Right. Um. I guess I just wanted to ask–” oh, how to phrase it …? “–is … is there anyone else … here?”

Jon’s eyes lowered to rest on his hands. “No,” he said. “It’s just me. And now you, I suppose.”

And all at once, the pieces fell into place. Jon’s cooking, his nonchalance about the borrowed clothes, the dust that had settled in a thick carpet over everything Martin, or Jon himself, hadn’t touched. For the second time today Martin was left staring, dumbfounded. “… I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“This place is gigantic. Don’t you …” Martin glanced down at his lap, thumbing a loose thread in the duvet. “There’s really no one here?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Jon’s eyes flashed. “I don’t need your pity. Why else would I be here if I didn’t prefer it this way?”

Martin opened his mouth, but Jon stood before he could reply, stormclouds thundering in his eyes. “This has been more than enough excitement for one day– I’ll let you get some rest.”

He’d already made it to the door when Martin regained control of his voice. “Thank you for the ointment.”

Jon stopped, one hand frozen on the door’s handle. “Pardon?”

“The hand cream. It, uh, it helped. Thank you for noticing. And … and I’m sorry for … everything, I guess.”

Jon stared at him for a long moment, then lifted his chin. “Glad I could be of some service.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Martin counted his footsteps until even their echoes faded down the hall entirely.

It was probably for the best that he followed Jon’s instructions and got some rest. He had the gnawing sense that he was wearing out his welcome, fast.

He’d already nestled back into the mattress when a flash outside his window made him shoot back up.

Snow. Fluttering snowflakes were dancing on an invisible wind just beyond the glass. Martin rubbed his eyes– once, twice– but they were still there.

A trick of the light– it had to be. Some … half-asleep hallucination. He still had a ways to go before he was recovered, after all. Imagine– snow, at this time of year.

Putting it out of his mind, Martin pulled the duvet over him, and, with very little effort, drifted away again.

“–Hello?”

Martin stumbled to a halt, dinner tray in hand. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t have time to stop– there was still so much of the hallway left to go. But …

There. A door had appeared in the hall. Or had it always been there? For the life of him he couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember …?

“You’re going to be late,” Charles said, somewhere off in the distance.

Late. Yes: Barclay’s dinner. He … he needed to leave. He was going to get everybody in trouble–

“–go.”

There it was again. Martin’s legs were stone; unable to move to the door, unable to move down the hallway. They had said go, right? He had to deliver Barclay’s dinner. But …

“You’re going to be late,” Mum said. Her eyes were hazy, unclear. What a wretched son he was; couldn’t even recall the colour of his own mother’s eyes …

“I’m sorry,” he said, but even he couldn’t tell who it was for.

Martin woke with aching arms and gummed eyes. Sunbeams were once again pouring in through his window, and this time, the accompanying disorientation faded faster.

Was it already morning? He must’ve slept right through dinner– this bloody mattress made it too easy.

And for once he was actually hungry. Properly hungry, too, without the accompanying nausea or weakness he’d grown accustomed to during his morning routine at the castle.

Today the silver tray was waiting for him on the desk– Jon had already come through this morning, likely an effort to keep him from waking, or wandering off again.

It was only as Martin was reaching for the tray that he noticed the books. Three of them, stacked on top of each other. Next to them were several pieces of folded parchment.

Martin, the letter started, with graceful, cursive handwriting, and something in Martin’s chest swooped low.

Here are some collections from the library, should you find yourself in need of entertainment. I had some difficulty choosing a recommendation, but I feel that these three have fairly universal appeal. Please take your injury into consideration, but I trust you to do what feels right for yourself.

Kinsey’s Survival on the Front Lines, especially, I find quite compelling. It’s a collection of memoirs from Kinsey’s time in war, and while a few have criticised his writing style as a bit dry, I find the contrast between his straightforwardness against the reality of war is how he’s able to make his point so clearly …

Martin read slowly, eyebrows climbing higher and higher with each word.

The letter was five pages total, front and back. All detailing Jon’s reasoning for the selections he’d made, from their historical relevance, to his opinion on their style of prose. Was there anything in Martin’s life that he could talk about for so long? That he was so passionate about? Maybe his poetry, mediocre as it was, but not with half as much eloquence.

Buried in the text, tucked between hesitant, tentative platitudes, were Jon’s personal reasons for enjoying each book, such as I would often find myself returning to this text during my apprenticeship, and Some might consider Williamson’s humour a bit crude, but I still found it enjoyable.

Martin lingered longest on these, drinking in each tidbit with the avidity of a book-starved scholar.

The letter concluded with,

By now I’ve realised I needn’t have gone on for so long, but I’ve already spent two hours writing this, and it seems a wasted effort if I just tossed it, so … there you are. If you made it this far, anyway. Admirable, if you have.

If the choice between the three books still proves to be too much, I would suggest Sutherland’s Mythos of the Ages as a start. It’s simple, but, as I’ve mentioned, the illustrative work is astounding, and although it’s rather sentimental, I find the tales of some comfort to me.

Jon

Martin traced the elegant swoop of the J, heart ballooning in his chest until he might burst.

Oh.

–

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real-jaune-isms · 3 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 9 Review/Remix

I cannot in good conscience joke that Rooster Teeth intended to go on a week’s hiatus after this cliffhanger, but I will say this was a hell of an episode for it to happen after. And while we wait to see what happens next, let’s take a little look at what’s happened here and now.

For the sake of not dividing up the action, let’s first cover what’s happening on the battlefield outside of Monstra. We open on a sweeping shot of the carnage thus far and see a good few nameless Atlesian soldier corpses to get our spirits plummeting. But Grimm don’t (with one terrifying exception) leave corpses so we don’t know how many of them have been taken out up to this point. It could be a very significant number, more than the body count on the human side! But Monstra keeps making more and we don’t have a way to replenish our forces so... it’s an endurance game more than anything else.

In a tactic I really didn’t see coming, the Atlas forces have dug trenches to fight out of like World War 1 soldiers. It makes sense, there are Grimm that we have seen have ranged projectiles so cover is a good move and it gives them a place to go over strategies before climbing out and going on the offensive. Just didn’t expect nearly century old battle strategy from an army with robots and mechs. Whatever works, I guess. We get a look in one of these trenches to see Winter briefing a squad on the plan to keep this area secure since it’s where an airship will be dropping off the bomb, and once it arrives their mission becomes escorting it inside Monstra. Amazingly, we can recognize 4 people in this squad as the members of Team FNKI! And WOW do they look out of place wearing the standard Atlesian soldier armor rather than their colorful and creative street clothes... Even their spunky personalities are taking a hit in this desperate situation. The next wave is approaching so everyone climbs out to start fighting back, and Marrow is shown a short ways away visibly upset over how many of their forces are just kids. Elm tells him to save the musings for after the fighting is done, and that does kick him into gear a bit. Everyone does a good job of handling the Grimm, Flynt and Neon tag teaming to take out a Goliath, and pretty soon the airship does touch down with the bomb. Left to his own thoughts, Marrow stares wistfully at Monstra and wishes good luck to “Juan”. Glad some things still haven’t changed.

Winter goes into the hold to sign off on its delivery, and Marrow follows her in to beg for a little more time for Yang and the others to get out first. She tells him they’ve allowed all the time they can and now it’s up to the teens to handle themselves. He calls her on this ambivalence, asks her if she’d be so dismissive if it were Weiss inside the whale. And for that matter, how is she going to be able to face Weiss and tell her 4 of her friends are dead because of Winter’s decision? Winter is visibly discomforted by that thought, but steels her nerve and replies that she will do so if she has to because that’s part of the job, so he should worry about doing his job. But you can tell she takes no pride in the job at this point.

With all of that battlefield drama out of the way, let’s talk about that group’s journey inside the whale. Through unseen means they managed to get inside, but the hallways all look the same and they aren’t finding a map any time soon. Yang points out this is like finding a needle in a... giant whale. More wonderful wit, brightens the mood immensely. Ren takes this opportunity to tell them about his new Semblance ability and says that he can use it as a sort of radar for other humans by sensing where the spikes of their emotions are. He can’t tell which one is Oscar, but he knows they’re all deeper inside Monstra so he’ll lead the way. Jaune reminds Ren that he can give him a boost with his own Semblance if he needs it, and Ren sheepishly agrees. Guess he’s still getting used to letting others in and being open about when he needs support. That was part of their whole three way argument on the tundra earlier this Volume after all. So this is them putting aside their differences and settling that. Jaune gives him some awkward finger guns and they head off.

We cut to Oscar lying on the floor of his holding room quoting a fairy tale to himself. Oz recognizes the quote as being from “The Girl Who Fell Through the World”, and Oscar isn’t shocked Oz knows it so well. He admits that yes, he did live through his fair share of events that became fairy tales. This particular story isn’t in the officially released book of Remnant’s fairy tales so we have to make some guess work about its plot and overall lesson. It seems to be a sort of mix of Wizard of Oz and the Hobbit where a girl craves to see the wider world and gets that chance through an adventure but when she returns she finds she can never quite fit in again because the journey has changed who she is forever. Oscar admits he’s growing to identify with the heroine of that story more and more by the day because he too has been sent through Remnant and come out the other side unable to feel the same innocent joy he did before he knew what the world really is. Oz thinks they may have to drop their plan of creating traitors in Salem’s ranks because it’s bearing no fruit, and suggests they start thinking about how to get his cane and get out of here themselves. Oscar has reservations about that, because apparently the more he uses Oz’s magic the quicker his soul is heading towards being lost as another past life for the single continuing existence that is Oz to look back on. Oz doesn’t blame him for wanting to delay that, and thinks just being Oscar is serving him pretty well. They don’t have time for further musings because Hazel comes in and drags the poor kid out of the room by the collar of his shirt.

Turns out they’re taking a trip over to the Home Depot, because Hazel is looking to procure a Lamp. He only half believes Oscar’s explanation of how Jinn works, so he wants to test it before taking the news to Salem and risking losing his head for reporting a lie. And if it does work, I guess he wants to know what that will entail. So he’s gonna make Oscar do it here and now. Before they can get underway with that, in comes Emerald to ask just what the hell they’re doing. Let’s find out, Hazel simply replies. That’s all the go ahead Oscar needs, and he calls for Jinn. Again, time stops around them and Jinn emerges from the blue smoke. She’s gotten a bit of an update to her model since Volume 6, and she’s as captivating as ever. Naturally, she wants to know what question they have of her, but no one seems to have one they urgently need answered. Hazel got all the answers he needed just by knowing Oscar was being honest about this and thus probably about a lot of other important matters. He decides now is the time to switch sides once and for all, he’s going to help Oscar AND Emerald get the hell out of here because neither of them deserve to be under Salem’s thumb. Oscar plays a little of the pronoun game and implies he wants his cane back before they leave, and Hazel seems to have no problem with that. Jinn remains playful, but must be getting pretty damn fed up with people summoning her without having a question to ask. Oscar deems it necessary to tell her that they’ll be taking her with them when they leave, as if that’s an alternative she was going to give much of a damn about. Hazel doesn’t think that’s a good idea, it’s the most prized item in Salem’s possession and she’s clearly going to know if it’s taken. He decides he’ll make a return trip to swipe it after the kids are out of the danger zone. They all head out as Jinn starts to fade into her cloud of smoke, but it seems they were not the only ones in the room at this time. With perfect chameleon-like camouflage, Neo was hiding in the shadows near the doorway, and emerges from nowhere like the Cheshire Cat. Now she’s alone with the Lamp and the knowledge of how it works. If only she could actually talk...

Back to our intrepid trio of heroes, Jaune is running on fumes with his Aura so he has to stop amping Ren’s Semblance. Ren apologizes of course, it does take a lot for him to both mask their emotional presences and search for other people at once, but Jaune says it’s fine. He’ll scout ahead while Ren takes a breather and doesn’t mask for a little while. With directions for where they need to be heading, Jaune jogs away full of optimism. Yang jokes about the two men patching things up after their spat the evening prior, but he decides its time for some patented Lie Ren wisdom. “It’s okay to be afraid, you don’t always have to hide it with a joke”. He’s not gonna judge her if she’s not in happy go lucky fun time mode, this is a seriously terrifying situation and she’s allowed to show fear and hesitation. At least, that’s the message I extrapolated from this and what we already know about Yang. Ren assures her he is scared too, but amazingly he can’t sense any such doubt or fear from Jaune. That man has full confidence and hope in getting this done, and if he believes then so will they. I really like that, it shows how much Jaune has grown from the noodle boy we first met. Speaking of the lad, he comes running back and tells Ren to mask them ASAP. A Seer is coming down the hall, and they hide from its view for as long as possible. But Ren is running low on Aura too and the effect wears off just before they’re in the clear.

Meanwhile, Hazel and Emerald are walking down a separate hallway and the former asks “You sure he’ll be okay on his own?” Clearly this means they let Oscar out of their sight so he can go get his cane, which shows a lot of confidence in the lad from these former captors. Emerald doesn’t have a clear answer yet, but she does stop Hazel and have him stand against the wall next to her. Salem is coming this way, and they need to let her pass. She stops, and naturally asks Hazel for an update on Ozcar. If he’s out here that must mean he has something to report. So, has he given up what they need yet? Hazel seems to immediately be cracking under pressure, the guy has no experience with lying or deception. Before he can stammer in place for too long, the Seers start wailing in the distance and that gets Salem’s attention instead. She realizes they have unexpected visitors, then almost immediately panics as she seems to realize the Lamp has been taken and these interlopers are surely to blame. Salem speeds off with all the grace of a kid riding a hoverboard, and it’s really quite amusing. I mean, we see her move her legs to walk but she just floats instead of running. We go back to the heroes finishing off the wave of what seemed to be Sabyrs that had come after them, and they decide to keep moving forward no matter the danger. Clever use of that phrase so near and dear to our hearts, and its good to see them gung ho about fighting their way through Monstra if it means finding Oscar.

They round a few more corners and find themselves face to face with Emerald and Hazel, and they’re none too happy about that. But good news comes suddenly, and Hazel steps forward to try and talk the situation down... only to be revealed to have actually been Oscar under the disguise of Emerald’s Semblance this whole time. She really is getting good at those illusions, it fooled Salem and was able to be cast on Jaune Ren and Yang at once. They are immediately much more happy to see Oscar alive and well, although the bear hug Jaune pulls him into might not help him heal any faster from the beatings he’s been getting. They still don’t know what to make of the fact that he was walking around with Emerald, and as soon as she makes a snippy remark they’re back on their guard. Oscar doesn’t quite know how to summarize everything that lead to this, but Yang insists someone give it a try. Emerald WAS the one who tricked her into “breaking” Mercury’s leg and becoming a public menace in Volume 3, she’s gonna need some good reasons to trust her now. Surprisingly, it’s Ren who has such an answer. Emerald is scared just like them, which would seem to show she is very much unhappy with being on this side of the fight and she wants to get out of this bad scenario. Em isn’t about to agree with that sort of admission of weakness, but she does have her own reason. She knows the way out, so if they want to leave they’ll all be leaving together. That’s enough to satisfy them for now, and they all get going.

They make it 90% of the way there, the ramping path down and out is just ahead of them... when Monstra starts pulsing and wailing. Emerald recognizes this influence, and she is frightened. The wall nearest to Oscar explodes, and Salem has arrived. She instantly takes stock of the situation, and deems Emerald the traitor in need of punishment for letting their prisoner out so she stretches her arms like my favorite rubber pirate and holds the poor thief closely with the intent to start that punishment immediately. She commends the girl for the improvements to her Semblance, but beneath the surface she is furious. Yang and Ren start shooting, and the fight with Salem has finally begun. She dodges the gunfire and responds with a beam of magic that Jaune jumps in the way to tank for Ren with his shield. They’re sent aback while Yang leaps in to unload a rapid volley of punches to Salem’s chest. A more baller move than punching this immortal witch in the titties, I never have seen. But that wasn’t all she did, she was actually leaving a bunch of sticky bombs that she jumps away and detonates all at once. Salem’s torso is blasted out of shape and she’s bending so far back you’d assume she’s the world’s greatest contortionist, but that doesn’t slow her down. She stretches out an arm to grab Yang tightly by the wrist and starts pulling her in as her chest starts to repair and reform at a rapid pace. Now it’s Oscar’s turn to attempt a rescue of his female companions, and he blasts some magic at Salem. Guess that fear of merging faster was kicked to the curb as soon as other people’s lives were on the line, and that’s pretty noble of him. But it’s a fairly weak blast, and Salem employs the classic strategy of hitting that motherfucker with another motherfucker by tossing Yang at him. Then she grows a bunch of Grimm arms from the floor to hold everybody down and leave them at her mercy. Emerald gets the special privilege of being held against a wall by some arms rather than on the ground, and is questioned on what she did with the Lamp. It’s missing, and Salem is dead certain Emerald is to blame despite her pleading insistence she hasn’t taken it and doesn’t know where it is now. Great job Neo, you made life that much harder for your former allies... Since Emerald isn’t offering any answers, Salem turns her attention to Oscar. At first it seems aloof and mysterious like before, but then she just lunges and grabs his face in anger. She’s mad that he keeps coming back to try and help this weak and selfish race instead of just letting her wreck it and end herself with the whole lot, as if he hasn’t already explained that he’s being forced to reincarnate by the gods she hates so much. But Yang is the one who snaps back, asking why Salem is so persistent. Sure, she had a tragic backstory and lost the love of her life. But that was thousands of years ago, she’s had plenty of time to get over it and move on. To grieve and accept Ozma was gone and be better. Instead she got pissed she couldn’t have her fairy tale ending and decided to make that everyone else’s problem. Salem has been the cause of almost every problem that has plagued Remnant since before the Great War, and Yang is calling her on it here and now. Go off, queen. Salem wonders just who Yang has lost to make her so indignant and so much more worthy of complaining and being the victim here than herself. Let’s list these losses, shall we?

Raven left home out of fear of Salem and her own hang ups with personal connections stemming from her upbringing (bandit lifestyle being so popular because there’s always towns to scavenge with Salem leading the Grimm)

Summer Rose is dead directly because of clashing with Salem

Pyrrha Nikos

Penny (she is back but there was still a lot of grieving on Ruby’s part and it had to affect Yang too)

About a dozen other Beacon students and visiting academy fighters at the Fall of Beacon, some of whom she probably got to know decently outside the ring and certainly respected as fighters in this defense effort

An arm because Adam was working under Salem and came to Beacon with vengeful intentions for Blake

About a year of PTSD nightmares flashbacks and involuntary fearful shaking

Her bond with Blake was fractured to hell and back because of the above incident, they’re damn lucky it was strong enough to be reforged with hard work and trust later

Now, some of those examples are a lot stronger than others, but they all affected her to some degree or another and all relate back to Salem. Naturally, she chooses the strongest example and says she lost her mom Summer Rose. This can be seen as throwing Raven under the bus as not being her mom in Yang’s eyes, but honestly after Volume 5 it just makes sense and it’s not like Raven would try to argue about it. Curiously, hearing Summer’s name just gives Salem a Cheshire Cat grin. I’m now realizing this is my second reference to that character in this review, but Alice in Wonderland is just that relatable here. Clearly she knows more than she’s letting on about Summer’s demise. Before we can get any more answers, Hazel arrives on the scene still playing the loyal subordinate role. Salem tells him she’s caught the traitor on their midst and he needs to take Oscar back to his room while she handles disciplining Emerald. He takes stock of all the kids trapped as he heads over to grab Oscar as asked, then pulls him in close to whisper “No more Gretchens, boy” in his ear. He suddenly drops him to ground again and turns to approach Salem. Oscar notices he was given his cane back when he wasn’t looking, and realizes what’s going to happen pretty quickly.

Salem holds a glowing ball of magic up to Emerald’s cheek with the implication that direct contac will be painful and possibly burning. Even under this threat of torture, Emerald has no answers and the fear of the seemingly inevitable brings her to tears. Lucky for her she gets a last minute save as Hazel runs up and sucker punches Salem, sending her flying a hundred feet through the air! She immediately recovers and starts flying before she can hit the ground, but the line in the sand has been drawn. As soon as she got sent flying the arms went away and all the kids were free to run away, which Hazel loudly yells for them to do as he rips his vest off and starts stabbing his shoulders and forearms with Dust crystals. Emerald lingers and wordlessly tries to talk him out of this, to run away with the rest of them. He just gives her a smile and turns towards his enemy. Salem asks if he really wants to turn his back on the path to vengeance she had promised him, and he responds that he’s instead choosing the righteous path his sister would have taken. Following her example is now the best way he can think to do right by her. So he’s gonna do that by using fire Dust to set his knuckle guards ablaze. She sends magic his way but the lightning Dust helps him quickly dodge and then he punches fireballs at her. He uses Revali’s Gale... I mean uses some air Dust to create an updraft and launch himself above her. He smashes some earth and fire Dust together to make a ball of spiky molten rock that he throws onto Salem and sends her crashing to the ground with an explosive impact. Then he just starts whaling on her, sending blood flying in 3 different directions and demolishing her upper body. But she makes more arms to hold him up in the air while she regrows her face. Emerald is still watching, not having moved an inch yet, but finally she decides retreat will be for the best. It’s why he’s doing this at all. Jaune seems to be doing a headcount as everyone runs past him, and realizes Oscar hasn’t left. He hasn’t made any moves to leave, in fact he seems like he’s getting ready to fight too. She’ll just keep coming after them at this rate, and Oscar seems to have a plan to change that. Salem shoots another magic beam at the now pinned Hazel, but he’s strong enough to pull against the arms and guard his exposed torso and put up a visible bubble shield of Aura. So she just tosses him away and immediately goes to where he landed and starts bashing his head into the ground. Oscar steadies his stance and readies his staff for whatever move this is gonna be. Salem notices and is ready to take him down before it can be ready, but Hazel continues to be a boss and gets her in a Full Nelson hold to keep her from going anywhere. She grabs his legs with a bunch of summoned arms, but it doesn’t discourage him. In a final act of vengeance, he bites down on a crystal of fire Dust he had popped into his mouth before grabbing her and they are both set on fire. She can’t escape his grip, and the fire seems like it’s hurting pretty bad. It’s only natural that they would reference the Salem Witch Trials by burning a witch named Salem, and I appreciate the idea very much. Oscar finishes charging up his staff for his attack, and Hazel gives him the go ahead. He knows this will kill him too, and he accepts that. It’s absolutely the same situation as Piccolo killing Goku and Raditz with the Makankösappö in the first arc of Dragon Ball Z, and that too is something I love to see. So Oscar puts up a magic shield and unleashes a blinding wave of golden light from the staff.

Fade to black.

Roll Credits.

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medea10 · 3 years

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My Review of Zombieland Saga REVENGE

Yes, Franchouchou has come back after a two and a half year hiatus.

HISTORY: Zombieland Saga is an idol show.

I have already cut my readership in half with that one sentence alone. But this is no ordinary idol show! A maniacal necromancer named Kotarou Tatsumi brings seven girls back from the dead. A former idol from the 1980’s (Junko), a former idol from the 2010’s (Ai), a child star from the 2010’s (Lily), a girl with idol aspirations from 2008 (Sakura), a former biker gang chick from 1997 (Saki), a courtesan from the 19th century (Yugiri), and Yamada Tae! There’s no describing what exactly Yamada Tae is but we don’t question it as she’s best girl.

Kotarou brought these seven girls back to life in order to save the Saga area and revitalize it. Throughout the first 12 episodes, we watch these girls get the hang of being alive again after so long and become an idol group. With Kotarou’s make-up skills, he’s able to fool nearly everybody that these girls are living, breathing idols. Almost everybody! At the end of the series, we get one guy who caught on about Lily, Ai, and Junko. But enough about that! Let’s see how successful Franchouchou has gotten since we last left the series.

REVENGE: So this sequel begins with the girls doing odd-jobs trying to earn as much money as they possibly can. Normally, the girls would do odd gigs that Kotarou was able to conjure up and that’s been good publicity for their group Franchouchou. However, they came into some money problems when they gambled and lost. It’s no doubt that their performance in the 12th episode was a banger and gave Franchouchou a boost in the idol scene. However, they aimed too high by renting out a big amphitheater to have a concert and only 1.6% capacity was filled. So the performance that night was a crash and burn type of thing. The after-effect put the girls in the hole (money wise) and Kotarou spends his days getting drunk at bars.

Seriously, look at this guy! He looks like a drunk, fourth season Eren Yeager. Kinda hard watching Kotarou looking so sad, pathetic, and drunk! It wasn’t until the girls had to perform at a metal concert arena that Kotarou got a kick in the pants. The fool arrives to the performance hella late, screaming for an encore when the audience is totally not vibing for one. And the girls end up singing while the audience goes in (for a lack of a better term) a Blues Brothers style rumble. The important thing is that Kotarou is feeling better and is ready to send his little zombie songbirds out to save the Saga prefecture.

Throughout the season, we follow the girls of Franchouchou as they regain some popularity they obtained last season. Will they do it? In the first 4 episodes, the group gained their own radio show and Ai’s old group (before she died) Iron Frill considered them as rivals. I think they’ll be okay!

BUT WAIT…: What about that photographer fella we saw all last season? He was quickly catching onto Ai, Junko, and Lily looking a little too close in resemblance to the girls that died years ago. Slowly throughout the series, we see him get closer to the truth.

NEW IDOL?: Oh God, did Kotarou commit taboo once again by bringing another girl back from the dead?

No…It was sadly much worse.

While at a public bathhouse, a girl (not wearing her prescription glasses) entered the men’s side, slipped on some soap, and was knocked unconscious. Thinking she died, Kotarou brings her body back to the girls (who aren’t wearing their makeup) saying this girl will be #7 in Franchouchou. And just like I said, she is not dead and now she knows that the idol group she loves are dancing zombies.

Kotarou is truly fucking up royally this season.

Anyways, this is Maimai! She’s a fan of Franchouchou and ends up becoming a temporary member of the group as #7 (for the episode). And, she’s voiced by Kana Hanazawa! If you don’t know who she is by now, blow me. It’s a little scary knowing that there’s one person out there that knows about the secret. But Maimai is much too loyal a fan to ruin something for everyone and is totally chill about her favorite idol group really being zombies.

THE TWO UNSOLVED MYSTERIES: As much as many of us loved the first season to Zombieland Saga, there were two characters we wished got more play and we knew a little more about. Yugiri and Yamada Tae! Tae-chan has been the enigmatic idol from day one. And due to her possible mental disability, we might never know. However, in one episode we do see her stopping off at a cemetary and I do believe that was her own grave.

As for Yugiri, even the detective can’t dig up info on her. She was around in the late 1800s or the Meiji era and there’s only one known photo in existence of Yugiri before her death. This season, we got a two-episode saga to bring us the good word on Saga and its importance. We got a bit of a history lesson about the Saga prefecture during the Meiji era and even what it was like before then. And yes, we did learn how Yugiri died and her connection to Saga. It was quite sad, but definitely one of the best episodes of the series.

BEST SONG: Didn’t think I’d have one for this franchise.

Saga Jihen from episode 9.

Nuff said.

ENDING: Well, we learned some extra details on what happened during the fall and rise of Franchouchou. This mostly has to do with Kotarou’s gamble with booking a huge arena for the girls to perform in. First of all, this arena was the place of Ai’s death. You member! When she was electrocuted right there on stage! Second of all, they didn’t sell the tickets until the day of the concert. What was that end result again? 1.6% capacity filled! Even in Covid-19 times, that’s fucking small. Granted, the audience was full of those memorable fans from season one including Saki’s friend’s daughter, Lily’s father, and the two metal jackasses. But still, not a good! The girls hit a brick wall and felt embarrassed. This was the worst moment for these girls (aside from dying once). After the disasterous event, they were millions of yen in debt, they’re running out of essentials for the house, and Kotarou has gone on a two-month drinking binge. It was then that they decided to do makeup themselves and go out in the world to earn a living and eventually pay off the debt.

Thankfully, they were able to get out of debt and regained their popularity throughout Saga and further. Saki has managed to get a radio show. Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) sees Franchouchou as a worthy rival. Lily gained a lot of fame in a televised competition. So what’s next? Kotarou apologized to Franchouchou for his big mistake the previous year and him spiraling out of control. Seconds later, he announces that their revenge will be to perform at the very same arena that fucked up their career the year prior.

Boy, you do NOT learn your lesson, do you?!

More trouble is on the rise as that reporter who caught on about the girls being zombies has confronted Kotarou. We finally circled back to the final scene from season one. This guy has caught on to the fact that the girls of Franchouchou resemble girls that died. The only one that he couldn’t dig up dirt on was Yugiri. Possibly because the only known evidence for existence is a photo at the bar! What’s more, he has a sneaking suspicion that the girls of Franchouchou are all zombies. In a prior episode, the reporter snapped a picture at the right time exposing Yamada Tae’s head rolling around on the ground. Dude is ready to go public with the story of the girls of Franchouchou being zombies resurrected from the dead unless Kotarou pulls the plug on everything. Kotarou simply said that the girls will get their revenge and will perform at the arena.

And then…a storm hit Saga!

There was a lot of damage around town. And worst off was Kotarou’s place, as it was ripped from its foundation, thrown into the sea, and crumbled into nothing after coming ashore. Worst of all, the special makeup the girls use to hide their zombie state was in that wreckage. Meanwhile, Kotarou spent several days trapped in a bar with the bar owner and nearly drowned. The girls ended up in a safety shelter with nearly the entire Saga prefecture. The good thing is because they’re town celebrities that they were given a top floor to themselves for privacy. The bad thing is that they’ve been here for days and their makeup is starting to come off, exposing zombies. And to make matters worse, that nosy reporter who knows the girls are zombies is also staying at the shelter (though the girls don’t know he knows). The girls decided to use Junko’s doll-crafting paintset to make masks to hide behind. That lasted only five seconds while trying to entertain the children of the shelter.

This is it. The girls are exposed as zombies.

Actually, the kids and parents thought this was part of the act and thought Franchouchou was lifting up the spirits of the arena. And in comes Kotarou just in time! Man, right under the wire. Now we’re like a few days from this planned concert and Saga is still recovering from the huge storm. Morale is quite low and it’s starting to look like a worse outcome for Franchouchou’s revenge than what happened one year ago. Saki used her platform on the radio to reach all of her viewers to see if they could try to come to the arena for their concert that is now a charity concert. So will this concert be a big success or a bigger flop than last year?

Actually, the arena was packed with people. Fans we’ve met in season one and new characters we met this season were even in attendance. Lily’s father ended up clearing away a lot of the debris so that concert goers could get through. Even Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) came in attendance! The concert was a huge success! And can I say that I’m really enjoying Yamada Tae’s Freddie Mercury impression on stage.

Don’t think you’re that clever, Zombieland Saga. We all know!

Yes, the concert was perfect! A great revenge! They even made Kotarou (a grown-ass man) cry. Even the reporter is willing to keep his trap shut (for now) about the girls being zombies. And best of all, NO ONE CAUGHT COVID-19! Yeah, I have to bring that up. The date of the concert was March 8th, 2020. Ahem. March. 2020. But yeah, everything went great. Perfect ending for Zombieland Saga Reven…

AND THEN AN ALIEN MOTHERSHIP COMES IN AND ZAPS THE AREA!

Huh?!

Who wrote that in the script? Some jerkass from Gainax?!

The last 15 seconds of Zombieland Saga leaves us with some sort of unidentified flying object zapping the area. Only Zombieland Saga can get away with this shit. Well folks, let’s see what’s in store for season three, Zombieland Saga: Zombies in Space or Sagapendence Day Zomb-Trek: Deep Space Seven.

Yeah, I know nothing has been greenlit or announced yet, but you know Studio Mappa has something up their sleeves with that ending. Once again, I enjoyed Zombieland Saga’s charm. I didn’t know if there was much more they could offer us after the first season’s stories, like learning how the girls died, Sakura’s past, and especially Lily’s backstory. This season, I wish there was more Yamada Tae. Come on guys, we still don’t know how she died or anything about her past! And what’s up with Yamada Tae being buried next to Sakura? Did they know each other before passing away? I want some answers! But I was blown away when it came to Yugiri’s saga and the tale of Saga itself. We got a literal history lesson about what Saga was once, what it became after a long struggle, the pain some folks went to in order to keep Saga thriving, and all leading up to where we are now.

This was a fun season. I had a lot more fun with the music this season than the previous one. Yeah, believe it or not I liked the songs Franchouchou sang this season than last season. Never a dull moment, especially with Kotarou! Yeah, his crazy-ass was totally there making absolutely no fucka sense. Take that competition Lily entered.

What the fuck was Kotarou doing? That was an epic fail on so many levels.

Well folks, whenever season three or whatever sequel may come, I’m hoping for more information involving Yamada Tae. And you know what else was severely missing from this season, Kotarou’s past with Sakura. I didn’t forget that flashback from season one and those couple of seconds this season aren’t enough to satisfy my hunger. Those are the two things I would like to know more about in whatever comes of the franchise. Otherwise, great time had by all!

Once more, if you are not a fan of idol shows, this is the only one I would highly recommend Zombieland Saga. Crunchyroll has both seasons available for streaming. FUNimation is now dubbing the second season as we speak.

#anime review #zombieland saga #zombieland saga revenge #yamada tae #kotarou tatsumi #saki nikaidou #sakura minamoto #junko konno #ai mizuno #yugiri #lily hoshikawa

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