#<- not saying warrior of the mind is its strongest or most important piece that’s pretty clearly just a man. but it is a bop

[pallases]

top 5 songs that were released this year?

OOH i haven’t really kept track of many new releases this year but

all american bitch by olivia rodrigo

the milk carton by madilyn mei (with honorary mention to missing mr cat / the milk carton reprise)

the way things go by beabadoobee

she’s pretty by beth mccarthy

what was i made for? by billie eilish

— ask me top five anything!

[the-shiny-eeveelution]

Creature of Soul Matter: The Emotion in Heart

Chapter 3: Mysterious Artifact

<- Prev | Next ->

I apologize for any awkward spacing, it's normally good but Tumblr has some weird spacing in of itself.

Creature of Soul Matter: The Emotion in Heart AO3

"So, where do you want to start?" Elfilin asks me, resting on my horn.

"Hmm…" I start thinking to myself. "I guess I might know where one of them is… kinda."

"Who is it? And how?"

"If I remember correctly… he was sealed away in a crystal of barriers and vanished… he's the one I couldn't save…"

"What was his name?" Meta Knight asks.

"Galacta Knight."

Meta Knight stares at me with surprised eyes. "The Galacta Knight? The Galacta Knight that was the greatest warrior in the universe? The one that could destroy planets? The Galacta Knight from the ancient texts?"

I squint at him. "He was depicted… as all that?" I think about him, "He was an amazing fighter, yes, often refused to use jabbing." I chuckle at the memory of him failing to break barrier after barrier. "And he only half destroyed one planet… and he didn't even mean to, they just attacked us and he was defending them…" my smile fades.

"Well, there are legends on how to summon him." Meta Knight explains.

When he notices the weird looks he explains, "I wanted to try to summon him and fight 'The Strongest Warrior' some time ago, so I spent some time studying the foretold methods."

Dedede rolls his eyes, face palms and shakes his head.

Kirby sneaks up on him, "Was it all about sword duals with you?" He teases.

"Old you was quite the doozy!" Dedede pipes in.

Meta Knight sighs, dropping his hands down. "Can we please move along and just get to finding Galacta Knight?" He begs.

Bandee chuckles, "Come on guys, let's stop bullying Metaaa"

Meta Knight snaps his wings out and flies up. He turns to look down on everyone, "From what I have studied, there are power spots located in some ancient structures and locations that can be used to bring him back... Keep in mind, this is what I've seen most of, it may be false!"

"Got it!" Kirby yells, a Warpstar flying up behind him.

"Oh, you all have Warpstars?" I softly ask, basically to myself.

They all hope onto it. Their speed of getting on, even with their different ways of holding on, shows how many times they've done this before.

Elfilin decides to continue to hang onto my head. "I can make portals to a few places that I remember, but I want to know what it's like for you." He explains.

"If you say so." I tell him, "I won't stop you."

Kirby flies his Warpstar up and I follow. Meta Knight thinks for a second before pointing his sword in a direction.

Kirby has his star zip off. I would be struggling to keep up if I didn't have my vortices. I fly through one after the other, keeping my eyes on Kirby.

We fly through space for a while, then Kirby picks up speed, he joyously laughs in the process.

Watching them all like this, I just can't help but to smile.

Something catches my eye, a dark floating structure with basically nothing around. We've been flying for a while and I wasn't expecting a break in the constant space that isn't a planet or star. I portal in front of Kirby and get him to stop.

I point to the ominous structure. "This feels important." I tell them.

Kirby looks at Dedede and Dedede nods.

As we approach the structure, the pieces floating around it become more obvious and the purple crystals lacing it's walls are more prominent.

As we enter its first arch, gravity seems to work again, everyone hops off the Warpstar and Elfilin flies down to them. I drape down my wings as to not scrape the ceiling.

Everyone with a weapon draws it. Kirby wanders to some nearby debris and uncovers a piece of a spear. He swallows it and gets a spear and headband.

"Oh, I got one of those as well." I say, summoning my own.

Meta Knight looks me up and down, "That's not a spear." He says, "That's a halberd."

"O-... Oh okay…?" I say, surprised by the sudden correction.

We all silently start walking down the halls, Elfilin following not far behind.

There's pieces of spears and arrows scattered everywhere. "This place seems like it was once riddled with traps." Meta Knight observes.

"Well thank you mister obvious!" Dedede retorts.

Everyone stops and looks at him.

"Err, uh… sorry, I'm really stressed right now. This place is rubbing me the wrong way." He apologies, clearly a bit embarrassed.

"D- don't worry sire, I'm spooked by this place as well!" Bandee reassures him.

Dedede pats him on the head a few times while we start to go again.

We travel a few more halls. Weapons, debris and set off traps everywhere; I've spotted multiple skeletons and somewhat shutter at the sight of each, many creatures of different species have died in here.

I look back down on everyone to make sure we're all still here, then I look back up, but not in time to react to a low hanging arch. I ram headfirst into it and step back, holding my head and yelling in pain.

I suddenly trip, a pile of debris is behind me, and I fall into a mass of broken weapons and building.

I groan as Elfilin rushes over, closely followed by Kirby. Bandee and Dedede soon come over and Meta Knight follows.

"Are you okay!?" Elfilin panicky questions.

I pull out a spearhead that rested like a thorn from my shoulder. "Kinda." I wince as I pull piece of wood out of my wing.

I look back up to where I hit my head, I can see strange markings in it. I let my eyes drift down to the hall that follows.

"That's not… right…" I mutter, the hall has debris but no weapons or evidence of set off traps.

I look back up at the markings, it's written in Halgraw text. I rise up to take a better look at it.

"You can read that?" Elfilin asks.

I put my hand on it and look back down at the group, "I can, mostly, it's Halgraw text." I try to explain.

I look back to the words and read them, "they seem to be instructions on the different traps…" I continue to read.

"Is that why so many have gone off?" Dedede figures out, "because none were able to read these instructions?"

He's probably right… what could they be wanting to guard that they would make so many traps and so that only Halgraws can make it through? "That could be right." I answer.

I look back down onto the ground behind me and see the markings and shapes for a trap trigger point.

I look into the next hall and see the line of scratches. I pick up a rock and toss it onto the marks. Immediately fireballs shoot out from either wall.

I walk up and look into the holes. Orbs with little shapes at the center rest in each. Sparking some sort of memory in me.

Kirby walks up as well.

"Oh hey! I recognize these!"

Meta Knight flies up and looks as well.

"Ah yes, these are Energy Spheres if I recall correctly, they were used in the Lor Starcutter."

I recognize part of that… "A Lor?" I question.

"A Lor?" Meta Knight repeats, "no, the Lor Starcutter."

"A Lor is a type of ship used for intergalactic travel… it can open portals and travel at light breaking speed."

"Sure sounds like the Lor Starcutter." Dedede says, now next to me. "Are they also legended to be sentient?"

"Uhhh, no?" I say, confused. "I've never heard of a sentient one…"

Meta Knight suddenly backs up, "Let us not stray too far from our goal, whatever that might be."

'I guess you're right, ' Dedede says, stretching. "Let's get going."

"I should try something first." I say. "Now that we know traps are active past this point, I want to see if I can open a vortex."

Everyone turns to me as I attempt to open a portal to no avail. "That's what I thought…" I sigh. "Magic from us doesn't work here."

Now I'm glad I summoned my spear earlier.

We slowly make our way through the increasingly darkening halls, preemptively setting off trap after trap. We eventually need to light a few arrows, that are shot at us, on fire, using another one of the traps to do so.

I see a light coming from the next turn, a cool purple glow flowing from it. "Oh finally." I sigh.

We set off the last trap and rush down. I turn and walk into a room riddled with stone carvings and crystals.

At the center, on a pedestal, rests an Energy Sphere that at the center appeared to have the yellow color drained. It's also the thing that the glow comes from.

I approach cautiously, looking for any more potential traps.

"I did not expect this to turn into a relic expedition." I remark, "But here we are…" I snatch the orb and hold it to my chest, where it grows to fit my hand… for some reason... I expect something terrific and life altering to happen, but instead the roof slowly starts to open up, exposing the stars again.

Everyone slowly walks up to me, looking up and admiring the view of the nearby galaxy.

I look back down at the sphere and it's light seems to have all concentrated in a cone shape, acting like an arrow and pointing up.

"I… I think we need to go that way…" I say  pointing in the same direction.

"Maybe… but that's for another time. We still need to go find that hotspot. We've spent enough time here already." Meta Knight responds. "If you give me the orb, I have a place we can put it."

I semi-reluctantly put the sphere on the ground where it shrinks and Meta Knight grabs it and puts it in his cape.

He must see my confused face, "Dimensional Cape." He elaborates.

It barely helps, but at least I now know that it's special and can be good storage.

Kirby's Warpstar comes in through the roof and the four all hop on it again, Elfilin grabs back onto my head.

We all take off and start going back in the direction we were going prior.

While warping through space I ask Elfilin, "Hey, you've been quiet for the past while, are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh ya, I'm okay. It's just, that place creeped me out…"

"If you say so..."

[quitethepirategal]

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads​ like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr​ @starsailingcaptain​ @covencrown​ @hookd​ @all-fleshed-out​ @evermxre​ @motherofredemption​ @bup1957​ @conquistadoradelmar​ @seaprofound​ @tcthinecwnself​ @withinycu​ @windguided​ @daevilhorns​ @concordia-cum-sinistro​ and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

     repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

     Her adaptability and resourcefulness.  Is she brave, yes.  Is she lucky, also yes.   But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever.  Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers.  She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command.  But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment.  If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go.  No food?  Grow food.  No water?  Ask someone if they have water.  No shelter?  Sleep outside.  No money?  Steal money.  Can’t hear anymore?  Cool I can use loud weapons.  Crashed on an island?  My island now.  Shot?  Free bullet.  She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ).  Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength.  Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ).  And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

     Her understanding.  As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths.  This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand.  She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive.  Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain.  She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression.  And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected.  Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them.  But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones.  She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource.  What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least.      But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no.  It’s academic as well.  Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold.  Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise.  She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle.  Debates with her are fun!  She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time.  It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her.  It means there’s more to learn.  And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers:  We are fittest to survive because we all fit together.  Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest.  No one is independent, no man is an island.  People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

     Her power.  While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important.  And it’s something Jessica has plenty of.  She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols.  Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior.  She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ).  And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker.  Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are.  And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck.  You see those thighs?  You see those calves?  She can crush PINEAPPLES with them!  People have seen her do it!  Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands?  Thousands!  She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can!  She can kick you to death!  One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED.  Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass!       But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new.  As stated before, people are power.  Not knowledge, not money, not strength.  People.  She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered.  Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship.  She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings.  She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers.  And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this.  Freedom is not independence or vice versa.  Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes?  Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill?  Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating?  No, of course not.  Jessica didn’t either.  Another human did.  We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves.  Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own.  And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve.  There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship.  People are, and always will be, power.       And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid.  And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many.  She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island.  And she can make many more with ease.  That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it. 

Three Weaknesses:

     She suffers ADHD.  Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD.  And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering.  Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be.  At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not.  She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own.  So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine.  Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly.  And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering.  I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance.  If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing.  I started typing this at a little before 5pm.  It’s 7;30.  It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ).  I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function.  So yeah.  Suffering is the word.       Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word.  Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ).  For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented,  she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct.       While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had.  Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis.  It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense.  If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it.  And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too.  Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days.  She doesn’t value you any less, I promise.  She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed.  Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered.  Not selfish, self-centered.  She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all.  Actually she accidentally assumes all the time.  It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ).  Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it.  Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that.  And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly.  She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret.  Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new.       All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks.  ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this.  ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation.  If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net.  Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that.  She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit.  Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line.  And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

     She is Hard of Hearing.  This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s.  Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to.  The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all.  And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength.       That said, it very well can be a strength.  I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK.  Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past!  But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late,  no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things.  She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading.  Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot.  Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader.       All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation.  And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face. 

     That damn bleeding heart.  We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover;  she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability,  she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times,  she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred  ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong.  Keeping up?  Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?!  HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!  Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain.      In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both:  Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad.  I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea.  Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks.  Excellent concept without context, right?  Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do?  The correct answer is to throw him out instantly.  Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out.  Is it hypocritical?  Yep!  Sure is!  But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da!  You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation.  You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons.  Jessica too is faced daily with that decision.  If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only.  She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people.  Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person.  Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings.  It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore.  Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass.  Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse.       Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out.  That’s it.  And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass.  But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy.  That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off.  Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay.  But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom.  You get a kindhearted killer.  Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day.  Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

     WHAT SECRETS?!  LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret.  There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

     What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her?  As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads.  Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine.  Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one.  Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right?  What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy.   HER mercy.  One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty.  And if she died?  Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is?  Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two.  And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last?  Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane?  And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her?  ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

     Who am I if I’m not interesting?  This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear.  She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it.  She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious.  She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this.  And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting.  So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long.  But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent.  Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why.  She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen.  Look at my art!  Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me. 

     GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick.  Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof.  Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing.      SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

   She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious.  Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind.  She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ).  So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege.  But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.  

                                                                               holy shit i need some water...

[lisinfleur]

T&T - Chapter 8: Copyright

Author’s Notes | It has been being ridiculously hard to keep my mind focused and being able to produce chapters and shots. My anxiety has been fucking me up hard. But I managed to produce this one and I really hope you guys like it. I'll keep fighting! This brain will come back to work! Words | 1946 ⁑ Warnings: None

After some days of living in that castle, Ivar's wounds were pretty better. With the right supplies and no limitations, Atli was able to show his whole talent as a healer, and Ivar's body was almost fully healed at this moment.

With his new breath, the fallen king took some time to walk around the castle, discovering the many halls that place was composed of while Iliana was taking her turn serving tables and cleaning the place.

His crutched steps took him through a hallway where he could hear Brynjar's voice along with some others, discussing.

The familiar sound of plans of battle and war called Ivar's attention and he gently approached, trying to hear without being noticed hanging around. His ears caught the subject in the middle but it wasn't hard to really understand what was happening inside that room.

"...must understand, my king, that the absence of an heir..."

"It's not something important, Udir! For Odin's beard, stop disturbing me about Brimir's death! I have no heirs, then what? I'm still this place's king and they still owe me respect!"

Ivar approached, observing the figures inside the room around a big and beautiful map carved in a trunk in the middle of the hall - probably the map of Brynjar's lands. Brynjar's index hit potently a part of that map marked with some wooden pieces painted in red as he spoke. Ivar presumed those were enemy armies marked for them to recognize.

"These lands are mine! Those men are Earls who swore over their arm rings oaths of loyalty they're not fulfilling! I am their king, Udir! And if they want to call themselves kings upon my lands, they can wait for me to die since there is no heir to succeed me anymore or they can fucking put their grown-men pants and come! And kill me for the place they want so badly!"

So, Brimir's death brought more problems to that king than Ivar could imagine. Maybe he could help the old king to solve his problems with the rebelled earls as a way to compensate for the loss he caused.

The bearded man beside Brynjar sighed, and Ivar started paying attention to him as well as he patted Brynjar's back - maybe a counselor...

"Calm yourself down, Brynjar. Things are harder than before and we must put our minds to work. Do we really need these lands this much?"

The man was thinking of giving up. Ivar sighed. He knew exactly what was that flame into Brynjar's eyes.

"These are MY LANDS, Udir! My people! My father's lands before being mine! I brought these bastards here and they swore to me they would be loyal to my father's legacy! Don't you dare to ask me to abandon the place he fought and bled to conquer!"

Those words touched Ivar's spirit and he felt his heart clenching inside his chest. Kattegat was his father's legacy. His father's lands he lost to a bitch and her consort... If there was someone inside that room that could understand Brynjar's feelings, this person was Ivar himself.

"Then if you won't accept any deal with them, then you should listen to what I told you: go through the breach with your best men as I keep them here with mine. It will gain you time and the surprise element, Brynjar. I'll hold them back and you'll be able to cross the breach and take them from behind. We kill these earls and finish this senseless war."

Ivar saw Brynjar sighing, tired. But his experienced eyes ran over the map observing Udir's fingers pointing the breach and location where he would be with the earls.

"Udir..." Brynjar tried.

And the counselor insisted, pointing the place once again.

"It would be stupidity to face them face to face, Brynjar! You know that! Don't you trust me? Go through the breach."

Ivar's face frowned. There were several other possibilities to execute that plan and attack the enemy earls from behind, from their sides, all of them not taking such a strict way. Why was that man insisting so bad with that breach in special? Ivar lost the conversation for a moment as the counselor was insisting with Brynjar about the plan. His blues attentively running the map, looking around, absorbing the information, and observing the enemy earldoms and red spots. That place...

Something clicked on Ivar's mind: the breach was a road to one of the enemy earldoms they were facing. A road...

... just like Repton's road...

Ivar's eyes got large for a moment: Udir was leading king Brynjar into a trap?

"You think about what I said, Brynjar. It will be the end of the war, once and for all. If you want to put an end to this conflict, then prepare your men and gimme the order. You go through that breach and we stop this conflict together." Udir finished, patting the king's back before leaving, passing through Ivar with a frown, following the corridor out of the castle.

Ivar came into the room, looking at the map now close enough to confirm what he was thinking: it was a road just like Repton's road, with the form of a valley.

Perfect for archers to swallow an army entirely before its king could scream the retreat...

It was a trap. A trap he once used against prince Aethewulf. A plan of his that someone was trying to use against Brynjar.

The old king was deeply breathing, trying to get his head colder when Ivar's voice woke him up to the new presence inside the room.

"Since when do you know this friend of yours... Udir?" Ivar asked, looking at the king who sighed once again, taking a seat near the table, trying to relax.

"He's the son of a friend my father had for his whole life. I know him since I was a young man. He's around ten years younger than me but I got him as a counselor because of his conquers. A good strategist, good warrior. Not that honored as I wanted him to be, but good anyway," Brynjar answered, with a tired voice.

"I can see he's not that honored," Ivar said, walking around the table towards the part of that beautiful map where the breach was carved.

"What do you mean?" Brynjar asked, ready to defend his counselor from the strange who just arrived in his castle and was daring to move the pieces of his map.

"I've heard it once from an enemy I had. One that I defeated. Yet one that will always have my respect," Ivar started as the eyes of the old king were following his fingers slowly moving the red pieces through the way as if he was playing with toy soldiers, moving the enemy armies towards the breach.

"What battles did you won?" Ivar repeated the old words, moving the pieces, spreading them all over the representation of the hills around the road, as if they were archers, ready to attack whatever could cross that road with a privileged position.

"What battles did you lose?" his eyes found Brynjar's large eyes as everything started to make sense in his old mind while Ivar moved the blue pieces through the road, showing the plan in execution right in front of his experienced eyes.

Ivar stopped the pieces right in the middle of that road - the whole army would be lost at that point. Brynjar's eyes found his, shocked with the terrible revelation in front of his eyes, but Ivar kept speaking, clarifying to that man that the crippled man in front of him wasn't just a simple wanderer.

"In victory, you earn a lot, my friend. But it is in defeat that you learn the most. Whoever is this man you have by your side; he's leading you to a trap. He'll put an end to this conflict indeed. But the earls won't be the ones falling in this day."

"Who are you?" Brynjar asked, seeing such a wise man standing in front of him as if Odin himself had come into Ivar's body to warn him about that meticulous and cruel plan against this life.

"I'm a man who lost everything. I was once a king, like you, my friend. A king who ruled over beautiful lands beyond the sea. Lands that were my father's legacy. Lands I fought my brothers to rule over. Lands that I lost to someone I trusted with my life. I've learned with my defeat and now, I humbly bring this knowledge to a friend I owe my life to. Listen to me, king Brynjar: this man you call your friend will bring you nothing but doom. I saw this happening before," Ivar said, pointing the breach. "This road in the middle of the valley will be a beautiful channel of blood and dead bodies, all of them holding arrows in every part of their armors an archer could hit. And these bodies will be your best men, taken down without the chance of a fight if you listen to what Udir says this time."

Brynjar looked down at that valley once again. The valley that Udir was insisting so much could cover his army's passage. It was so close to the enemy territories! Brynjar noticed he was so absorbed trying to deal with the dishonor of attacking the earls from behind that he didn't take notice of how close that valley was of the lands he was trying to take back: the earls would take his army down without even having to travel with their men! He would be carrying his best men - as Udir was insisting so much for him to do - straight to death.

"Exactly, my friend," Ivar said, with a smile in his face, as if he could read the king's thoughts through his enraged eyes. "Your best men would be taken down without effort. All the men that could prevent them from reaching your kingdom and taking your crown. The strongest ones would be with you here, to die by the arrows, as the weaker ones or the ones who could easily be converted would be their second target to be taken after you couldn't prevent them to move forward into your town anymore. A smart plan that counts with the idea that you would be unaware of their actions... However, it can be a good moment for you, my friend."

Brynjar was lost. How in the nine realms to have such a close figure betraying him that horrible way could be turned into a good momentum for him? Ivar could see the disappointment and disorientation dancing into the old king's eyes - feelings he knew very well in his heart.

"Focus," he called up, making Brynjar look straight into his eyes once again. "It doesn't matter how hard it is, there will be time for you to mourn once this situation is over. Now, it's time to keep your mind focused, my friend. Doom is knocking on your door and Lord Odin prepares your seat in Valhalla. I think we can make him wait a little longer."

"How?" Brynjar's voice sounded full of determination once again and Ivar couldn't help himself from smiling.

The old man was full of life and there was still a lot to be done for his kingdom. Approaching, Ivar took his decision: he failed his father's lands, but he wouldn't fail Brynjar's. And if he could help that king to save his people and his crown with his knowledge, then maybe it was a sign from the gods that his own kingdom was still recoverable for him.

Do you like my work? Support me!

Tagged ones:

|| @bluearchersstuff​ || @ivarswickedqueen​ || @directionlessbuthappy​ || @akamaiden​ || @bang-kim-bap​ || @cris101071​ || @elysias-temple​ || @alicedopey​ || @captstefanbrandt || @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla​ || @lol-haha-joke​ || @normatural​ || @readsalot73​ || @rekdreams247​ || @slutforasoldier || @naaladareia​ || @laketaj24​ || @therealcalicali​ || @grungyblonde​ || @arses21434​ || @honestsycrets​ || @rabeccablake || @2thequietone4​ || @blackspiritshake​ || @vikingsbifrost​ || @wallabieswisher​ || @sincerelysinister || @lyanna-the-giantsbane​ || @chinduda​ || @isthat-tyra98​ || @xinyourdreamsx​ || @littledeadrottinghood || @thiahilmarsdottir​ || @queenbeeta​ || @notyouraveragegirl17 || @winchesterwife27​ || @gold-dragon-slayer​ || @mzliterarydreamer​ || @youbloodymadgenius​ || @alwaysbenhardysgirl || @marvelouuse​ || @tgrrose​ || @lif3snotouttogetyou​ || @lordsexmachine​ || @deathbyarabbit​ || @ietss​ ||  @hissouthernprincess || @thorins-queen-of-erebor​ || @aperfectly-imperfect-perfection || @didiintheblog​ || @choppedroadwolfathlete​ || @h-e-a-v-y-l-e-a-t-h-e-r​ || @heavenly1927​ ||  @jjlizz​ || @alexhandersenx​ ||  @ivarthebloodyking​ || @lauraaan182 ||

Want to be tagged? Ask me!

[angel-squid-trash-ghost]

Parental Guidance Pt.4

            The sled was packed and ready to go. Katara climbed on to make sure their pile did not fall. Zuko, Katara and Kanna had worked their fingers to the bone mending and sewing. Summer had started and by the look of the pile, everyone in the village wanted a new wardrobe. Yise’s baby was also going to get her name soon. The most important delivery was her tiny parka.

             Yise insisted on inviting them inside. Her home didn’t look much different besides there being less furs. It had been a while since Katara had seen a marriage bed. Kanna presented the ceremonial dress. It had taken three tireless nights to fix every bead and bone into the intricate designs. On the bottom was a wavy array of blue glass beads and a lining of fox fur. Around the collar was a zig-zag pattern made of shells and bone shards also lined with fox fur. And all around the deep blue garment were threaded embroidery of birds flying. Yise choked up when she held it.

“Kanna, it’s absolutely beautiful. I don’t think Princess Yue’s could have been this fancy. The lamp oil isn’t enough. I have to find something else to repay you.” Yise gushed.

Kanna waved her hand blushing slightly. “Oh you stop now. It will be an important day. She should look her best.” Kanna touched the small nose of the baby on her back.

“Ms. Yise can we hold her?” Katara asked with big eyes.

              Yise agreed and took the small body from out the amaut. She sat the children down and carefully placed the baby in Katara’s arms. Katara made sure to hold the baby in all the right places and support her head. She marveled at the new life. The baby’s hair was already thick and curly. She cooed when Katara spoke to her. Zuko was delighted when the baby grabbed his finger. He praised her endlessly on how cute she was. The children laughed when the baby squealed loudly.

“What is her name?” Zuko said unaware of the secrecy that came behind naming ceremonies.

Before Kanna could explain, Yise answered, “Well an Earth sailor said their word for ocean was Temma. I think it would be unique.”

“An Earth name. That would be unique.” Kanna nodded.

“We have a Zuko why not a Temma!”

Kanna smiled. Her heart was warmed in its entirety, “That’s very true. I think Temma is a wonderful name.”

“Can I? Please?” Zuko didn’t move his eyes from the bundle of joy. Yise moved her daughter from one set of arms to the other. “She is so cute! Hi kissy baby! Hi!” Zuko enthused making kissing faces.

“She really likes you Zuko. She’s so small.” Katara laughed with the baby.

“Yeah. Like Lala.”

Katara hadn’t met anyone with that name, “Who’s Lala?”

Zuko thought hard frowning some. “I don’t remember.” Holding the baby suddenly didn’t feel as good as it did a second ago.

Katara sensed his distress, “That’s alright. Maybe later you’ll remember.”

Zuko nodded looking back down at the rosy face, “Yeah. Maybe later. But now I say hi to Kissy baby!” The baby squealed again shaking her chubby arms.

           Kanna watched Yise watch the children. Yise was always a sweet girl. She wasn’t one to gossip but she could hold one in a conversation for hours. It came as a surprise when she married the gruff and quiet Danak. But everything seemed to be going well. The new addition to the village was proof of that. Kanna took pride in her role. Her son was chief and led the men in hunts and battles, but she was the leader of the women. She was the one they would go to for advice and counsel. She watched Yise’s face go from content to thoughtful. Yise sighed.

“She’s a beauty. Just like her mother.”

“Oh.” Yise turned back to Kanna, “Thank you. She has her daddy’s stormy eyes and her mommy’s nose. Sometimes I joke that I only married Danak so we can have pretty babies.”

The women chuckled. Yise didn’t keep her smile long before she turned back to the children, “Is everything alright?”

“With Danak? Yes! It was a joke. I know people told me he was a mean one but he’s not at all. He’s truly a gentle giant. May I be swept away if I dared ask for a better husband. And you should see him with the baby. He blubbered when she barely said dada.”

Kanna nodded. That was good to hear. “I’m glad but that is not what I meant, dear.” Kanna had a special skill of drawing information from people. She had to if she was going to keep the women folk safe. “You look to be thinking about something.”

Yise looked at her hands, “I can tell you anything?” She didn’t need an answer when she looked to Kanna’s face. “Well, to be honest with you Kanna, and please take no offense, but I can’t help thinking it’s strange to see a Fire child holding my baby. I never thought I’d see the day! But he’s so well-mannered. And pleasant. Katara likes him too. It’s nice to see her have a friend. After what happened to her mother. Poor girl. Most of us don’t really have a problem with him being here anyway.”

“Most of you? The other women?”

“No, husbands too.” Yise paused, “Danak wasn’t keen to the idea. He was worried the boy would be a firebender. Oh, and do not get me started on Kehana! That old witch has it out for him. I’m surprised she didn’t try to poison him. It was a good thing Katara was there or that poor child would probably be dead!”

“That is troubling. Do people think I made the wrong decision?” Kanna feigned.  

“Not me. I knew when you took Zuko into your home that you must have saw something in him. And Hakoda hasn’t made a complaint yet. That has calmed Danak’s concerns down some. It’s all the same to me. The more the merrier.” Yise clapped.

At some point the baby had changed hands again. Katara now had the baby howling in laughter, “I just want to eat you all up! Yum, yum, yum!”

…

              Zuko pulled the sled back home. Katara sat in the back holding their basket of traded items. Hakoda had come back early. He had not been feeling well and Kanna put some soup on at the first look of his red nose. Hakoda sat next to the window, against his mother’s wishes and watched the village go on without him.

“Can we go out and play?” Katara pleaded to her grandmother.

“I don’t see why not. It is a beautiful day.”

“Yay!” The children cheered.

“I love you Gran-Gran!” Katara kissed her on the cheek.                              

“I love you Gran-Gran!” Zuko did the same.

“I love you Dad!” Katara went to leap in her father’s lap.

“Sorry, not today kiddo, Dad’s got the sniffles.” Hakoda stopped her.

“Ok. I love you. Bye!” Katara ran out the door.

“Feel better, Sir. Love you. Bye!” Zuko ran after her.

Hakoda scratched his beard. “Love you too?” He watched them through the window chewing his lip.

“What are you thinking.” Kanna handed him a bowl.

Hakoda blew on his food a few times, “I am not sure about him living with us. You went out today. What are the women saying?”

             Hakoda knew it was somewhat inappropriate to have his mother collect information for him. However, it was necessary to be a good chief. He knew some of the men wouldn’t be completely honest with him. But the woman never lied to Kanna. It was a superpower she had possessed since he was a boy. When him and Bato pulled pranks around the village, Kanna was always able to pinpoint who did what, when, where, and why. If there was a why. Just with a few maternal smiles and foreboding stares. She was not a woman to be trifled with.

“What do you mean?” Kanna sat on her stool.

Hakoda squinted, “Like what are they saying about him being here. How do they feel?”

“Most of them do not mind. Although their attitude is less accepting and more like an unusual fascination.”

“That is not so strange.”

“It isn’t right. Zuko isn’t an oddity. He is a little boy.” Kanna snapped.

Hakoda took his eyes out of the window, “I know that, mother.”

"Mm. They all agree that Kehana has the strongest opinion."

Hakoda sucked his teeth, "That miserable hag. Chief Arnook and his shit excuse to send a spy. She does not even bend. I should have been more forceful in my refusal. Anyway, she isn't one of us. She does not have a say." Hakoda ate, “Anything else.”

“About Zuko? Nothing really. They do not know much about him. He is with us all the time.”

A lightbulb went off in Hakoda’s head. “Mother? Have I ever told you how much I enjoy our talks?”

“Oh, hi Dad. What are you guys talking about?” Sokka walked in and threw his practice gear at the entryway.

"Sokka go outside and play." Hakoda said plainly.

"But I'm hungry. Can I have some soup?"

"Did you hear me?" Hakoda raised a brow.

Sokka threw his arms down in disbelief, "I don’t want to play with them. They’re babies. They’re probably playing some stupid baby game."

"Boy, if you do not get your narrow behind-"

Sokka threw his head back, "Argh! Fine!"

“My little boy is getting older.” Hakoda looked to the window.

            Zuko hopped in place humming a song he made up. Katara put the finishing touches on their snow castle. Which was really just a six feet high pile. They rebuilt a few times as the weather got warmer. Katara giggled to herself watching Zuko go up and down. Zuko hopped when he was happy. She didn’t know why but she didn’t mind it. She liked to see Zuko happy. His first weeks had been rough. But he was able to say more and he was a lot more comfortable in the house. It was the best thing in the world having your best friend live with you.

"What song is that?" Katara asked him.

"The sun is out, and it is so pretty!" Zuko sang leaping higher.

"Just like me. That's why I'm the princess! Let's go Warrior Zuko. You have to defeat the monster!"

Zuko grabbed his piece of driftwood. "Ok!"

            Katara sat atop her snowy throne. She described a giant green winged monster to Zuko. They planned how to defeat it with their many pretend abilities. Zuko was going to make his first attack when Sokka sulked towards them.

"What do you want?" Katara sneered.

"Dad says I have to play with you guys."

Before Katara could say anything Zuko happily agreed. It was strange because Zuko didn't like Sokka that much. It all made sense when Zuko told Sokka he had to be the monster.

"I'm not going to be the monster!" Sokka crossed his arms.

"Yes. You have to." Zuko grinned like a fox.

"Nuh-uh. I'm going to be a real warrior one day. And Katara is my sister so I have to save her."

"But I marry Katara." Zuko scoffed.

“You what!” Sokka bared his teeth. “You will never marry my sister!”

“In the game stupid head!” Katara hands fisted.

“Stupid head?”

“Don't say that Zuko. It's not nice." Katara wagged her finger.

"But you say-"

"No. We don't say mean things."

"Ok." Zuko glanced at the ground and then back up. "Katara!"

"Yes?"

"You stupid head." Zuko cackled.

            Katara threw a chunk of castle at him. He laughed anyway. Even Sokka laughed a little.

"We can settle this easy. Stick your feet out." Katara demanded. Sokka stuck his foot out. Zuko mimicked him. "Water, water in a pool. Show me which one is the fool." She pointed back and forth until she landed on Sokka's foot. "Sokka you're the monster." Katara hailed.

"Pfft! Fine Whatever." Her brother griped

Zuko hopped twice and then held his driftwood as mighty as any warrior would.

"Alright. Mighty warrior Zuko! Save me!" Katara put her hand to her forehead.

"Yes Princess! I will defeat you, monster!" Zuko declared.

Sokka quickly got into character. The baby games notion completely disappearing from his mind, "Not if I get you first!"

Zuko and Sokka went back and forth trading blow for imaginary blow. "I use bite power! I bite you!" Zuko open and shut his hand.

"I use my roar power. I knock you back." Sokka yelled towards Zuko.

Zuko put up his arm, "I block it. I use my weapon! Jah!" Zuko swung his stick but not too close to touch Sokka.

"My skin is impenetrable! I use punch power! And hit you directly!" Sokka punched the air over Zuko's head.

Zuko only knew what some of those words meant but dramatically fell back anyway. He held his chest and stuck his tongue out, falling to the ground, “Princess Katara! Help me!"

“She has powers too?” Sokka laughed.

“Of course I do! I’m the princess!” Katara slid down the castle landing to Zuko’s unmoving body. Sokka almost fell over with laughter. “Princess healing powers go! I make the warrior Zuko all better!” She placed a butterfly kiss in his hair.

Zuko bolted up, “I am better! I use my weapon. I hit you on the belly! Jah!”

“Oh no! My only weakness. My stomach!” Sokka fell to his knees, “Ah! My guts!”

“I got the monster!” Zuko celebrated.

“And then we live happily ever after. The end!” Katara hugged him hard.

“What do you want to play now?” Zuko asked Sokka.

“Hey Sokka! What are you doing?” A voice called.

              Katara saw the twins Noaluk and Yoton, Moak’s sons, coming up the hill. They were older and boys so Katara didn’t have much to do with them. Sokka knew them though. They would have had to been at training and hunting trips with him. Katara wanted to think that they wanted to join them. But by their faces and contentious gait that they weren’t there to save a princess.

“I’m playing.” Sokka stood up. He put his hands behind his back.

“With the burnt bastard?” Noaluk spoke first.

“Yeah. Aren’t you afraid he’s gonna set you on fire?” Yoton snickered.

“It’s not like that. My dad made me. It’s no big deal.” Sokka rubbed the back of his head.

Yoton walked up on Zuko. Katara instinctively grabbed his hand, “Just go away.”

“Why? We want to play. We can play soldiers. We’ll be Water Tribe and Zuko can be the Fire Nation soldier we kill.”

“That’s not funny. Go away!” Katara balled her fists.

Noaluk smirked, “You’re pretty bossy. Why don’t you be a good little girl and shut up.”

“Hey! Don’t talk to my sister like that.” Sokka took a step forward.

Noaluk pulled Sokka by the collar, “What are you going to do? Are you a traitor like her?”

“Come here, you ugly brat.” Yoton took another step forward.

“Leave them alone!” Sokka kicked Noaluk and tackled Yoton.

            Noaluk recovered quick enough to get to Sokka before he could land his first punch. Katara’s reacted quickly and jumped on Noaluk. She wrapped his arms around his neck pulling him away from her brother. She didn’t think she was strong enough to fight the older boy. She knew she wasn’t. But it didn’t stop her from trying to help. Yoton flipped Sokka over onto his back. He belted Sokka relentlessly. Zuko was yelling something in Fire’s tongue, struggling to force him off. Yoton shoved Zuko away. Hard. Zuko hit his head

               Katara gasped and lost her grip. Noaluk threw her over himself like a ragdoll. Katara thought hitting the soft snow would hurt less. She felt the sting in her eyes as Noaluk pulled her up. She heard Zuko roar something in Fire’s tongue. The thwack was louder. Zuko had swung the driftwood into Noaluk’s temple.

"Bato mentioned that he heard Zuko talking to Katara in Fire's Tongue. What do you think about that?"

"It'll be good for them."

"In what way other than that my daughter would know a language no one else can speak?" Saying it out loud made waiting for an answer useless. "I will only allow it in the house." His mother did not make a gesture to disagree, so he continued, "What if he turns out to be a bender?"

Kanna nodded slowly, "Well you would have to get a master to teach him."

Hakoda scoffed. “Yeah I will just send a letter to the Fire Lord and ask nicely.”

“A better question is how will you handle it. Do you think he will be a danger? Will you be more likely to let him stay if he was not?”

"If he were, we could use it to our advantage. At the end of it...he is a child. And I..."Hakoda forgot he was speaking aloud and went back into his own head. He peered back out the window. “Shit!” Hakoda leapt up. He rushed to get up, his body protesting with shallow aches.

Kanna put a hand to her chest. “What is the matter?”

“Zuko just hit someone with a stick!” Hakoda made his way outside.

“Oh my! He probably had a good reason.” Kanna followed him out the door. Now Hakoda was running. “Do not be too hard on him!”

Yoton abandoned his assault on Sokka and made for Zuko. “I’ll kill you, Fire Nation scum!”

             The blood rushed in Katara’s ears. She watched Yoton sprint for Zuko. He flinched but gripped the wood ready to swing again. And then it was as if time had slowed down. Something pulled in Katara’s heart. Her hands tingled. A strange sensation reverberated through her veins. Like a river surging, flooding everything in it’s path. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Suddenly, their castle, the little world Zuko and her had created together, broke and shot at Yoton. The air around them sparkled as the snow exploded. Yoton was thrown into his brother. She inhaled. The shimmering snow crackled and froze. They both struggled to break the icy cage. Katara was sweating suddenly completely drained. She saw spots and Zuko. Then Sokka. She rocked back. Strong hands caught her. It was her dad. She let herself slip into darkness unable to answer to her own name.

…

              Katara felt like she had woken up from a really long nap. She had somehow ended up in her bed. She blinked around the room. She went to rub her eyes but pulled something with her. Zuko had his fingers locked in hers. He sat up. She saw he was crying. His eyes were so red. She instantly cupped his chin. She didn’t like she wasn’t there for him. There was yelling just outside. It had gotten dark. She must have slept for hours. She wondered why he just didn’t wake her.

“Katara? Are you ok?” Zuko’s voice was hoarse.

“I’m sleepy. What happened?”

“You trapped Yoton and Noaluk in a block of ice. They’re out there trying to get them out. Then you wouldn’t wake up.” Sokka answered with his mouthful. He didn’t seem to be as troubled as Zuko was.

“Me?” Katara tilted her head. Zuko hugged her tight.

“Oh, my dear. You’re the first waterbender in the Southern Water Tribe in forty-three years.” Gran-Gran didn’t look as thrilled as Katara was.

[miximax-hell]

Happy Goku Day, everyone!!

I checked and, miraculously, I still have followers on this blog. In fact, I’ve gained some since the last time I posted, for some reason! I’m not going to question it, though. Just... bless. But, hey, long time no see! As usual!

This time, I’m going back to my roots. The first drawings I posted on this blog were meant to show my love towards original Raimon, and it’s never a bad time to remind you all that I still adore these kids. Especially now that my friend @dust-monsters-under-my-bed​ has reminded me of them. Go check her art, btw! She’s not very active on Tumblr, but you can find her art on Twitter right here: https://twitter.com/rachelmonart

Anyway, she’s watching Inazuma Eleven for the first time and she’s made me think again about how much love these kids deserve, BECAUSE THEY SURE GOT NONE FROM HINO. DAMN YOU, HINO. So, today, let’s talk about the one and only IE character whose feet are classified as mass destruction weapons, who decided to borrow power from someone who will make you all question me, my logic and my tastes: Yamhan (or, as he is known in the west, Tiencha), THE FUSION OF YAMCHA AND TENSHINHAN FROM DRAGON BALL.

Introducing ShoYamHan! More on him under the cut.

So, first of all, how have you all been? I suppose many of you, like myself, are being told to stay at home to fight this situation. I salute all of you who do your best to stay safe and not help spread anything. It’s a very necessary fight, even if it can be boring at times. Many of us have friends or relatives fighting on the frontline, though (unless you yourself are the doctor or nurse friend!), and we hopefully know that staying at home is a small price to pay.

As for me, I got a job in December and lost it last month, so... yeah. It’s not been great. Still, something I’ve been working hard on for a while should be released soon and that’s so exciting! MY NAME WILL FINALLY BE ON SOMETHING’S CREDITS AND I CAN’T WAIT FOR IT TO BE UP.

But, anyway, back to business!

Rachel suggested I talk about the reasons behind this particular miximax, and considering it makes for a perfect parallel with my first posts, where I talked about the reasons behind Max’s and Kageno’s miximaxes, I’m all up for it! But, this time, I will have to do something new: explain WHO THE HECK YAMHAN IS. So let’s start with a picture of this handsome devil.

As most of you hopefully know, this project is about miximaxing Inazuma characters with video game characters. No anime, movies or anything else. Only and exclusively video games. Dragon Ball has probably spawned all those things, but it started as a manga, so you’d be right to think it most definitely does not qualify for this project. And, indeed, Dragon Ball doesn't. What DOES qualify, however, are Dragon Ball characters exclusive, or first introduced, in a video game. And that’s exactly the case we’re dealing with here!

Growing up, I loved Dragon Ball games. Even before I watched the show properly, in fact! I would go to my friend’s house, who was a fan of the show, and we'd play the Dragon Ball Budokai games nonstop with absolutely zero regrets. Those were some great times. And once I came to know the source material, the game that blew my mind the most was Dragon Ball Budokai 2. Was it the best one? Not necessarily. Is it my favourite? Not by a long shot. Still, it was the most creative! Most games follow the story of DBZ, which, obviously, is always the same. But Budokai 2 wasn’t afraid to do new things. Its story mode resembled a tabletop game and it was more than happy to deviate from the source material in some really fun ways; most notably, with exclusive fusions.

Budokai 2 introduced us all to Yamhan, the fusion of Yamcha and Tenshinhan, two long forgotten characters in the series, as they (and especially poor Yamcha) didn’t do anything especially relevant past... well, past the original Dragon Ball. As a champion of the unloved, that blew my mind. There were other fun things in Budokai 2, but what fascinated me and stayed in my thoughts for years to come was Yamhan. It was just such a cool concept. Two underdogs who had fallen into obscurity fusing to create a much greater warrior!

Of course, Yamhan isn’t the only videogame exclusive characters in Dragon Ball. He isn’t the first, nor the last. Yamhan isn’t the strongest, nor the weakest. But I haven’t played FighterZ nor Fusions (yet), nor pretty much any game that wasn’t on PS2 or GBA. And even if I had, I doubt Android 21 or any of the HUNDREDS of combinations available in Fusions would captivate me and my imagination as much as Yamhan did back in the day. Yamhan was a fusion, which is something that has always fascinated me to begin with. I MEAN, THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS ABOUT FUSING CHARACTERS, SO I THINK IT’S PRETTY OBVIOUS LMAO But he wasn’t just one among hundreds. He was this very specific, never-seen-before, cool as heck and usable fusion. Like, wow. That was wild for me. Sign me up, man.

But, you know, I try not to let that sway me too much. Of course, I wouldn’t likely pick a character I hate for a miximax, but, still, my preferences aren’t everything. And choosing Yamhan begs a question that I have already alluded to: if Yamhan isn’t the strongest game-exclusive DB character out there, then, why him? Well, the answer to that is related to the biggest problem posed by the sheer concept of miximaxing with a Dragon Ball character:

Power escalation.

It’s no exaggeration to say that Goku is, pretty much, the strongest character that has ever played the lead in any manga, and one of the strongest fictional characters ever, period. By the end of the Dragon Ball Super anime, he has EXCEEDED THE POWER OF MANY LITERAL GODS AND IS (or has been) A CANDIDATE TO BECOME ONE. You may prefer One Piece, or Naruto, or anything else, but few things reach the astronomical, reality-bending scope of Dragon Ball. Not to say DB is the best series--I’m just saying that it’s so out of control at this point (and I love it). But, of course, the stronger Goku is, the stronger the villains need to be, and Goku ends up becoming EVEN stronger than said villains. Rinse and repeat dozens of times until you can make an entire universe disappear by raising your hand.

Now, imagine applying that out-of-this-world power escalation to a context where the power balance isn’t so outrageous. For example, Inazuma Eleven.

Goku wriggling in his sleep is more powerful than Zeus, and an accidental sneeze would smash all of Ixal Fleet to smithereens. Do you see what this would do to the balance? It would ruin it completely, as anyone who miximaxed with Goku would be immediately a one-person army able to defeat ANY opponent--and if the opponent were to be EVEN GREATER than Goku, well, the rest simply wouldn’t stand a chance. Ever. Remember: the point of this project isn’t to create perfect and unbeatable players, and I’m not trying to prioritize anyone or make them noticeably stronger than anyone else just because I happen to like X more than Y. That completely ruins the tension and the fun (and my attempts to create justice in this unfair universe). The point is to come up with a balanced team full of players with strong points, but with flaws, too, that complement each other when they play together against stronger enemies.

So, if we go with Dragon Ball, and I love Dragon Ball WAY too much to not include it in this project in some way, we have to be careful and avoid overdoing it. Balance is key. And now that you know why I didn’t just choose the fusion between Beerus and Whis or something crazy like that, I’ll move on to explain what makes Yamhan a very interesting option. I SWEAR THERE ARE SOME ACTUAL REASONS.

First of all, the very concept. You know, Yamcha and Tenshinhan fused to created Yamhan, and now, Shourin is fusing with a fusion. That’s just... hecking cool. I won’t lie--my preferences towards Yamhan didn’t tip the scales towards making this happen, but my preferences towards FUSIONCEPTION totally did. XD But there’s more, thankfully.

From the very beginning, I knew I wanted a fighting game character to miximax with Shourin because it fits his theme best. I’m not big on fighting games, though, so it was quite tough. Especially because just any fighting game wouldn’t do it. Shourin is a martial artist. As I mentioned at the very beginning of this post, his feet are his weapons. His entire body is a weapon, really. If I were to suddenly miximax him with some character who wields a sword or an axe, for example, it would be a complete disservice to Shourin. Original Raimon members don’t have much going on for themselves, and I’m going to cut or ignore the ONE thing that makes one of them special? Not in a zillion years. Shourin needs to fight with his body. That, of course, cuts many characters already: pretty much the entire roster of Soul Calibur, many members of Mortal Kombat, many from games like Skullgirls (which I still want to try to represent here in the future, because @lumaga worked on it and it makes me happy just because of that), etc. For a very long time, I considered someone like Ryu, from Street Fighter, but then it hit me: I have never played Street Fighter and I don’t want to include him just because I know what a Hadouken is. It’d be... cheap. And fake. Thankfully, as I also mentioned earlier, I played LOTS of Budokai back in the day and I am an actual fan, so I don’t have to pretend to know what the heck I’m talking about. XD And, thankfully, most of the characters in DB games fight with their bare fists and legs, so they perfectly fit my needs. Yamhan is, of course, no exception.

Now comes my favourite reason to choose Yamhan and not, well, literally any other DB game-exclusive character. And that reason is style.

Remember that power escalation thing I mentioned earlier? Well, it’s epic, but it comes with a big disadvantage: power ends up becoming much more important than skill. Early Dragon Ball was very focused on fighting styles. There was an ongoing feud between the Turtle School and the Crane School, who taught different martial arts to fight in different ways, and there was a big plot involving which one was superior. It wasn’t just about who was strongest, but about who fought better. With time, that disappeared, though. Even though battles became flashier, aerial and more spectacular, they were much more indistinct. Sure, there were gimmicks like “heh, I have a tail and I will sometimes hit you with it,” or “I will try to hit your face with the palm of my hand instead of my fist for some unspecified reason,” but that isn’t... much. You just see very fast people avoiding equally as fast punches to the face. And Goku, the main character, only shows some style when he adopts a fighting pose BEFORE fighting. Once the punches start flying, it’s all a race to see who can hit the other the hardest in the gut to make them spit blood. Cool nonetheless, but still.

Ironically, though, it’s two of the least relevant characters who never really lost those styles that made them unique when they were first introduced to the series. And those are, of course, Yamcha and Tenshinhan.

Yamcha joins the Turtle School and learns techniques as classic as the Kamehameha, but he had his own style way before that, based on attacking and tearing enemies apart like a wolf would. This is best represented by his signature move, the Rougafuufuuken or Wolf Fang Fist. He never drops this style, but instead builds up on it through his training to make it even fiercer.

Tenshinhan has different things going for himself. First of all, he is a hybrid between a human being and a civilization known as the Three-Eyed People, which grants him powers such as growing extra arms from his back or dividing in 4. Not just moving so fast that it looks like there’s four of him, but ACTUALLY dividing into 4 separate bodies. In terms of skills, he was a Crane School student, but when he realised the wrong of his master’s doings, he decided to start training and developing on his own. Basically, a path that mirrors Yamcha’s, but both lead to unique fighting styles unlike anyone else’s in this universe. And, most importantly, none of them depend on appendixes that are always there, like the aforementioned tail, so they totally work for us here!

Shourin is a proper martial artist. He wouldn’t want to make himself crazy strong as much as he would like to refine his technique and learn new moves and tricks. Martial arts are about discipline, self-control, skill and protection. He would take a cool-ass combo based on a wolf’s moves over earth-shattering strength any day of the week, hence why the fact that these two have so many techniques to offer is so appealing.

Finally, and probably least, is the design idea that immediately came to my mind when I thought of a miximax between Shourin and Yamhan. Historically, I have had to work with characters like Fudou, who are usually mostly bald and they miximax with someone with hair, thus making for some very... difficult things to figure out. But the idea of miximaxing Shourin, who is mostly bald, with Yamhan, who is ALSO mostly bald, was just golden and too good to ignore. And the fact that Yamhan has three eyes GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO ADD A THIRD CROSS-SHAPED EYE ON SHOURIN’S FOREHEAD. IF A MIXIMAX BETWEEN BALD PEOPLE WAS GOLDEN, THIS IS OUTRIGHT PLATINUM.

Shourin would've probably looked a lot less like a joke if he had had hair covering his entire head or if I had at least given him proper eyes... but that would no longer be the Shourin I love. Not to mention that it’s very likely that Shourin willingly shaves his head to begin with (even if the ponytail ain’t doing him any favours--but that’s just Inazuma logic, so let’s not look too much into it), just like Tenshinhan or Krillin do, so he would probably be happier to keep that, uh, advantage. Relative advantage, but still.

As a side note, though, we can’t forget the balance. When Yamcha and Tenshinhan fuse, they undoubtedly become the strongest human being in the DB universe, overcoming the one who is usually strongest: Krillin. A fusion is always greater than its parts individually, and Yamcha and Tenshinhan aren’t so far away from Krillin to begin with, so that’s not even a question. Regardless, they still don’t have that overwhelming and surreal strength from other characters, so we still don’t get into absolutely OP territory. Yamhan is strong enough to provide Shourin with a power that can make a real difference without completely putting him above everyone else.

Sadly, Yamhan doesn’t really have a backstory, as he’s a game-exclusive character that, honestly, was probably only there for a laugh. That means there is no deep connection between them. We can, however, make obvious connections between Shourin, an aspiring martial artist whose dream, as stated in IE2, was to study at Manyuuji (Kogure’s school) for their focus on martial arts, and is now trying to become stronger to protect what he loves, and two skilled warriors who have been training nonstop under different masters and on their own for basically their entire lives to keep becoming stronger and more skilled in order to defend what’s precious to them and, simply, to be the best version of themselves they can be. Upon seeing such dedicated warriors and artists, Shourin would undoubtedly want to learn from them and, if necessary, borrow their strength too.

Or he might just fanboy and ask for their autographs, honestly. I sure as heck want Yamcha’s. And his baseball card.

[waiting4inspiration]

The Berserker I (Ivar x Reader)

Summary: Your army hides in the woods surrounding Kattegat, waiting for the right time to reveal themselves as the impending battle draws closer

Warnings: ...

The Berserker Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist

Kattegat can be seen from the edge of the forest that your army hides themselves in. The warriors camp deep within the trees as you hunt for new furs in the woods. You know that somewhere is a wolf in this dense forest.

The last headpiece you had was burnt with your brother when he died in the last battle you fought in and now it's time to find a new piece.

Finding the perfect specimen, you shoot an arrow into the animal's chest to not damage the top side of the fur. The wolf yelps in pain and fall to the ground. Waiting a few moments as you watch the wolf die, to step towards the creature and kneel beside it.

Turning it onto its back, you pull the arrow out of the beasts chest before stroking the fur. "I thank you, my friend, for your sacrifice. May you grant me your strength and ferocity on the battlefield to please the gods. And we shall see Valhalla together."

The sound of footsteps in the distance cause you to lift your head. Out of the trees walks your second in command, Bjarke.

Bjarke wears the skin of a bear and the strongest fighter among your people. His shoulders are twice the size of the broadest man and could carry mountains on them. His chest is covered with black in depicting two bears fighting and his arms are wrapped with fur and leather straps.

"Fjalarr has made it to Kattegat. By now, he should be hiding in the darkest corner of the hall of the King without his even knowing," Bjarke informs.

Nodding at him, you wrap straps around the legs of the wolf before hauling it on your back. "King Bard will be here in a few days. Sooner if he's army travels by night. I want everyone prepared to fight at any times."

When night came, you sit on the outskirts of the camp with a fire in front of you. The knife in your hand slides through the wolf, separating the skin and fur from the body.

Making a new headpiece is a bloody task not for the faint of heart. But for you, it seemed to help put your mind at ease and relieve any past tensions. Tensions like the death of your brother.

Getting to the head of the beast, you let out a sigh. This is the most difficult part of creating the headpiece, even for someone how's done it hundreds of times and yet is the most important part of your identity as the leader.

Bjarke leans against a tree, watching you craft the furry headpiece. He watches with a smile on his face when he sees the tranquil moves you make as you shape the head the way you want.

A man with fox furs around his slender waist (a fox because of his agility) walks up beside Bjarke. "Fjalarr has returned. You must tell her. He brings news from Kattegat about the king's battle plans," the man says.

Bjarke scowls back at him as he straightens up, towering over the man. "Do you want to be the one to receive an axe to the chest?" he growls, his voice deep and rough like the rumble of a bears roar. "You know not to disturb her when she's crafting a headpiece."

"Bards men will be here by dawn."

"And she will be done before that!" the bear bellows, causing the fox to slink back towards the camp.

Minutes later, you hold up the hollowed out head of the dark wolf and stare into the dead eyes of the canine. Satisfied with your work, you smile.

"(Y/n), Fjalarr has returned with news," Bjarke shouts when he notices you've finished your work.

Quickly glancing at him, you give him a small nod before turning back to the wolf head in your hands. "Good."

Fjalarr gave the most precise information anyone ever could. He said he was right in the war room, heard every single word the king and his brothers said and they never even had a clue he was there. Fjalarr was always the best man for the job.

"What are your plans?" the man with the bearskin questions.

Staring at the table beneath your hands, you start to tap your nails on the wood. "You said the Bard will be here when the sun rises?" Fjalarr nods his head. "King Ivar likes to fight on an open battlefield. Thankfully, it's close to the trees. So, we do what we do best. We say close to the edge of the forest. Wait for Bard's men to appear before we attack."

[supernova1us]

My Bionicle G3 story breakdown

Aqua Magna is an ocean planet containing many islands, populated by biomechanical beings, primarily the matoran. The capital is the massive city of Metru Nui and from there, two godly beings, the spirits of light and shadow, emerge by the power of the mythical mask of life. They coexist together for a time, though the spirit of light is loved and revered by the matoran and the spirit of shadow is feared and despised. Shunned and jealous, the shadow develops a hatred for his brother which explodes into a life or death battle between the two. When the spirit of shadow is defeated, his being shatters and the 100 fragments regenerate as the makuta, a new race of powerful shadow beings. Another, inanimate fragment is found and forged into the mask of shadows.  

The makuta become the loyal servants of light spirit, now called mata nui and serve as protectors and guardians of the matoran on each island for many years. The matoran show their appreciation by constructing protodermis armor to encase, strengthen and protect the makutas shadow forms. However, the makuta of metru nui, who has grown the closest to mata nui, is inevitably reminded of the unfair devotion shown for the light spirit. Jealous, he rationalizes that shadow should rule rather than light.  He rallies his fellow makuta to follow him with his grand scheme to overthrow mata nui. And thus the “great betrayal” is set into motion as the makuta begin sowing chaos across the planet. Unrest and disharmony spread like wildfire under the makutas influence.  

Worried and distracted with the state of the world, mata nui is unaware of the makuta gradually draining of his life force until it is too late.  When mata nui is at his weakest, the makuta attack en-force. Finding his light cannot harm the makuta through their armor, mata nui dons the mask of life, recreating himself as a toa warrior, and with the 7 toa heroes of metro nui, battles the makuta. Though some makuta do perish, they are ultimately victorious as mata nui is wounded and sends the toa away to protect the matoran.  Mata nui reveals that he foresaw such an event and prepared for it. Using the last of his power, he releases a burst of energy into the sky and reveals that the energy will one day birth 7 great toa heroes, powered by the very elements, to stand against the makuta. With that, mata nuis physical form perishes and his weakened spirit withdraws into the mask of life, which vanishes. The makuta leader, dubbing himself makuta nui, dispatches his brethren to seize control of the rest of the world.

With the end of mata nui heralding a series of natural disasters, the toa put all of the matoran into a deep slumber to protect them.  Makuta nui confronts them, but having been wounded by mata nui and at risk of losing the battle, offers a bargain. He will rule the island and the toa are free to resist him, but neither he nor the toa will directly confront each other, but he will not directly threaten the matoran either; the toa reluctantly accept. 500 years pass, and the matoran finally awaken to metru nui in ruins and overrun by nature, and their toa protectors long aged into frail turaga elders. From the islands center, makuta nui sends out his corrupted rahi beasts and evil warriors to torment and keep the matoran in a state of fear and control. This continues for another 500 years until finally the energy mata nui released returns. The energy merges with the elements of the island themselves and creates 7 new toa heroes.  These toa heroes must discover who they are, their elemental powers, how to work as a team and embrace their destiny in defeating the makuta and reawakening mata nui.

Characters:

Nikila-Toa of energy.  She has power over lightning and any form of energy.  She is the leader of the toa mata, and is the most mature, brave and heroic, with a tendency towards over confidence. Her tools are her lightning swords.

Malum-toa of fire. The largest, strongest and most hot headed of the group.  He is arrogant, prideful and violent.  He tends to clash with Nikila the most.  His tools are his flame claws.

Hahli-toa of water. Generally kind and gentle while sometimes shy, she quickly gains self-confidence and is the most spiritual of the team.  Her tools are a trident and protosteel talons/fins.

Pohatu-toa of Earth. He was the most focused and unwavering of the toa, though somewhat distant. He is wise and friendly when comfortable, but as fierce and unbreakable as nature when pushed. His tools were his enhancing foot attachments and his ruble shovels.

Matau-toa of air. The most free spirited and easy going of the toa, he always went with the flow like his element; A joker and explorer who was only serious when the situation was at its most dire.  His tools were his stormorangs, which double as wings.    

Krakua-toa of Sound. He could be considered the most open minded of the group, but only just barely so.  He was never quiet or still for too long and was fascinated with all the sounds the world made. He is very fond of music. His tools were his sonic blade and his thunder bell shield.

Zaria-toa of metal. The most creative and sporadic toa, creating weapons, armor and anything new was his passion. He was the free thinker and craftsman of the team.  His tool was his giant meta-hammer.

 Makuta Nui- the main antagonist and self-appointed lord of the makuta, who distinguished himself from his brethren by wearing the mask of shadows.

Brotherhood of makuta-a group of wicked beings from across the world who serve makuta nui. Roodaka, nihdiki, krekka ahkmou and the rahkshi horde serve as his direct minions while tuma, sidorak, the visorak queen, kulta and the piraka serve as his allies/proxies on other islands.

 Other important characters: mata nui, the makutas, turaga/matoran, Umarak-the dark hunter, taka-toa of light, umbra.

 Obviously there are many similarities to g1, but there are many intended differences as well.

·         the change to the toa mata members and element line up

·         there have been other toa, but this special group are the first with elemental powers

·         like g2, matoran are uniform beside colors and some exceptions

·         there would not be multiple future toa teams, only a few special cases

·         the makuta as a species had  a mostly uniform look(based on g1 shadow titan), primarily as humanoid shadow forms incased in armor, save for some having other minor features(wings, spikes, weapons)

  Story Arks

1. with shadow creatures controlled by makuta menacing the matoran, the newly born toa, who must discover who they are, defend the matoran, and learn how to work as a team, and finally fend off makutas shadow god form.

2. The toa set out to find the mask of time, and must race against the dark hunter to find it.  They use its power to visit the past to see the beginning of the brothers war and how the island became what it was.  The island is then attacked on two fronts: a bridge of web allows swarms of insectoids from another island to attack while makuta summons undead skull warriors from beneath the earth.

3. Makuta, still weak, sets his rahkshi hoard loose to menace the toa.  The toa end up at makuta nuis lair at the center of the island, where part of metru nui still stands. They learn that makuta seeks the mask of life to regain his former strength and that it can revive mata nui as well. As the toa cannot defeat makuta, mata nui spirit bestows the rogue matoran Taka part of his light power to make him a toa who defeats makuta nui, almost killing him.

4. Taka is left to guard the island and matoran while the toa sail to Voya Nui, but are trapped in the underwater realm of some rogue aquatic makutas. When free they make it to voya nui and must fight both makuta members and Umbra, the mask’s guardian.  After winning and receiving the mask, they return to metru nui to use it but makuta nui intervenes.  Mata nui is nearly revived but makuta shatters the mask of life, the force of which destroys them both and sends fragments of the mask to 8 different islands. Makutas shadow form and mask survive and he flees and has a new armor built for him.

5. With mata nuis spirit lost and can only be brought back to life by the mask of life, the 8 toa must search the numerous islands, leaving umbra to guard metru nui.  They set sail and split up, with each accompanied by a beast mount, a matoran squire and new adaptive armor, and explore their separate islands to retrieve the mask fragments while battling the makuta, or other enemy forces, on each one. After their separate adventures, each toa finds a fragment, which becomes a golden mask for them. Malum is seriously injured and in the fear that he may die, transfers some of his power to his matoran, jallar, who becomes a toa. In this time, makuta nui devises his grandest scheme, while also feuding with the rebellious makuta icarax and nearly kills umbra.

6. The toa reunite and make their way to Karda Nui to reform the mask of life and revive mata nui, fighting past the makutas and makuta nui himself, who takes Jallers’ mask fragment.  The toa use the fragments they have and mata nui is revived, but still only as a mortal toa, since the mask was incomplete and the toa had absorbed some of its power while using the fragments. Malum is also healed. Nihdiki, a mutated former toa who has served makuta, chooses to betray him as his schemes have now cost the life of his partner krekka, and aids the toa.

7. The toa sail for the island the makuta are based on Nihdiki guidance but before they arrive, the island is shattered by a giant robot body that has risen from beneath the sea. Nihdiki says its construction was makuta nuis grand plan; becoming a god.  Makuta has used his mask piece to fuse his spirit to the body and has trapped all the matoran within it.  He also betrays and absorbs his minions save for a scarce few allies. As makuta rules the matoran within his body and decimates the other islands, the toa take weeks to make their way to the ruined metru nui, where he now stands to find a way to enter the robot. They end up confronted by the rest of the surviving makuta and their forces. They are joined by the allies they each made on their journeys and a massive war erupts. Krika, a repentant mukuta, leads them from the battle and shows them the way to enter the robot before returning to aid in the fight against his brethren.  

8. The toa manage to enter makutas body, who is distracted, amused watching the war, and they fight their way through rahkshi, body defenses and makutas remaining allies to reach his heart. Toa Taka is forced to return a large portion of his light energy to mata nui, and he and jallar lead the matoran out to safety. The toa reach where makuta nui reconstitutes his normal form and they battle. Makuta is the stronger but mata nui is able to recover the final mask piece and is restored to his normal form. They battle but are to evenly matched, but with the help of the toa, he defeats makuta. Rather than destroy him, mata nui fuses the two of them together, killing both but creating a new spirit of light and shadow, who possesses the giant. With his power he restores metru nui, creates bridges between all the now restored islands and returns the toa and the mask to the surface before heading off into the stars.

[jenovahh]

KYKM - 7 Months, 27 Days

Blue eyes snap open at the first whimper you release, flicking to your sleeping form nearby.

He had only closed his eyes so that he may lightly rest, as was the norm whenever he and the Warrior of Light camped out in the wilds. They had found a humble little cave in the Fringes to sleep in for the night, a small fire pit already left behind from previous adventurers. 

As your breathing had evened out, he was left to his thoughts, listening to the roaring waterfall not too far away outside. The night had gone on in a peaceful calm, until you began fidgeting in your sleep. Usually you slept soundly when you allowed yourself to fully surrender to your exhaustion, but something was troubling your dreams.

Standing, he moves to where you’re huddled in your blanket, a cold sweat upon you brow. He’s unsure what to do; of whether to wake you up or to wait it out. What thoughts were plaguing you, that you slept so fitfully? You had seem tired as of late, weighed down by a burden you had not shared with him. It was not his desire to know every single thing about your life, but clearly there was something important you had deigned insignificant enough to not share.

He thought maybe to let it run it’s course, to merely be by your side should you wake, but your expression grew pained and fearful. Curiosity weighed against better judgement. Concern took priority over respect.

With barely a conscious thought he could feel the Resonant activate, eyes glowing a stark red in the darkness of the cave. “What ails you, Warrior...” he murmurs below his breath, shutting his eyes as his mind fades to nothing as he enters your dreams.

Opening them again, he finds himself in what must be Coerthas, though he thankfully cannot feel the cold. It is eerily quiet, even the wind does not seem to howl through the trees, the snow does not crunch beneath his boots. But there are voices, quiet as he walks underneath the bridge to a nearby building, where the door is ajar.

“Moved on have you?” the voice is unfamiliar, masculine, gentle. 

“I...I haven’t moved onto anything Haurchefant.” He recognizes your voice instantly, feet carrying him a little quicker as he gently pushes the door open a little further. You’re seated at a large table, an Elezen man with ice blue hair sitting by your side, his hand clasping yours. His eyes are filled with adoration, love, a tenderness he had never seen in his life.

“But you have, my sweet. There is someone else in your heart, is there not?” the man asks, leaning incredibly close. 

Your eyes dart everywhere except the man before you, uncertainty plain on your face. “I...” you murmur, trying to pull away from his nearness.

“You have moved on my dear. You have forgotten about me...” he laments, expression turning solemn.

“That’s not true!” you nearly shout, tears brimming in your eyes. “I could never forget about you Haurchefant! I just thought,”

“Thought that you deserved to be happy?” he spat, teeth gleaming in the firelight. “Thought that you could move on, and find love again? You are a harbinger of chaos Warrior of Light. The Ascians work so hard to stop you, yet they do not see what a parasite you are to those you care for.” he seethes, leaning into your space once more.

“Everyone you have ever cared for, felt understood you has perished. The Scions are falling to a mysterious malady, where it is likely only you will remain. The prince you came to admire despite being a coldblooded killer, took his own life.” His face cannot be the face of a man anymore, twisting into that of a demon as his words increase in cruelty. “You had allowed Estinien to become overtaken by Nidhogg, nearly killing him. Who will be next, hero? Will Ser Aymeric die before he can see Ishgard into a new age? Will Lord Hien perish before Doma returns to its feet?”

“Please stop...” you sob, frozen in place as Haurchefant stands from his chair to circle you like a vulture on a fresh kill. 

“Peculiar choice of words, hero. I would not think them dissimilar from the words uttered as your friends slowly died around you. What wretched fate will befall the few you have left?” he hissed, the hostility in his voice chilling the room.

“How soon will it be, before your new friend meets his end?” he questions, rapping his fingers on the back of your chair. “After all, he seems to be everything you need. Everything I couldn’t be. He understands you! He’s an excellent combat partner, able to keep up with you! The Warrior of Light, Eikon Slayer, Liberator of Doma. He has let you get closer than anyone ever has before, the fool.” he spits, continuing his pacing.

“Ah, but who is the bigger fool? Him, for following you for a simple goal...or you? For caring for him?”

At that statement you lash out, easily stopped as you’re too overwhelmed by your emotions. Tears stream down your face like a river, arm shaking as you struggle to overwhelm the tall man before you. His expression is one of mock pity, voice deceptively gentle as he grins. “Would it not be better for you to simply send him on his way? To spare yourself the hurt of having to watch him die before you, as I did? Of watching as yet another person abandons you...” 

Your legs give out beneath you, crumpling to the floor in your grief. Sobs wrack your body, hands clasped over your face as you weep. “Come now, Warrior of Light.” Haurchefant coos, kneeling next to you, wrapping an arm around your delicate frame. Tilting your face to look at him, he looks genuinely concerned. “Take my advice. Let him go. You were meant to be alone.” A knife appears at your back in his free hand, poised to strike. “Do not cry. After all...a smile better suits a hero.” 

Before the knife can strike, Zenos knocks it away, through being a bystander in your nightmare. He had not interfered, unsure how his presence would affect your dream. But he couldn’t continue standing there, watching as your mind, watching you, torture yourself.

“S-Soryu...?” you breathe, eyes wide and afraid. The dreamscape warbles and fluctuates, threatening to fall apart as he had feared. Bricks fall around them, the fire in the hearth blazing out of control.

“Hear me Warrior.” he growls, bringing you into his arms. “I am not going anywhere.” he says with such finality even though the dream is breaking to pieces. “I am here now. And I will be here when you wake.” Catching your face in his hands, he stares long and hard. “I am not. Going. Anywhere.” he repeats, holding you tightly. Your mouth opens to speak, but the dream ends before the words can leave your mouth.

His mind is muddled as he slowly regains his thoughts, the Resonant giving a light hum. With great care he opens his eyes, finding himself flat on the ground by your side. Turning his head, there are silent tears flowing down your cheeks, but your expression is not nearly as pained as it was.

Reaching out, he repeats the motion from your dreams, wiping the tracks of your tears. "Your tears are too precious.” he whispers, caressing your face. “You are too precious.” With great care he brings you against him, holding you tight. “You too, are lonely. For when you become the strongest, no one ever tells you how lonely it is.” Shutting his eyes, he allows himself to sleep, listening to the beat of your heart.

When dawn breaks, he is the first to open his eyes, seeing as he didn’t really need rest in the first place. You are still curled against him, though now you have all but crawled on top of him. Your arm is slung across his chest, legs intertwined with his own. Though you too are an early riser, your dreams seemed to have exhausted you into sleeping a bit longer.

Brushing a hair from your face, he stares quietly, feeling a strong sense of contentment. There is no reason to interrupt the rest you so obviously need, forgoing sleep to meet the needs of the Scions, the nations and all who dwell in it. He could see how most would think it admirable, but most don’t see the pain like he does. In these moments, he wishes he could spirit you away, to see you as carefree as he had come to know you these past few months. Your joy and your laughter...he would protect it.

After all, he always took care of things that belonged to him.

Shifting so that the blanket covers both you, he doubts he’ll need to explain himself should you still find yourself in his arms. If he finds the notion pleasurable, there’s no reason you shouldn’t either. Closing his eyes, he listens to the beat of your heart once more, falling asleep, and falling past the point of no return.

[maskedmuses-archived]

Warrior of Violet--Light

The child of the mother, brought to the world not of her own

A lingering fragment of memory long distant

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’.” The party checked on the violet haired girl as she shifted through her inventory, readying themselves for the encounter they were about to face. It was nothing more than a few mobs within a FATE, but preparedness was always the way of their party leader. Ready checks and countdowns before pulling the main target, it was routine by this point.

Closing the flap of her bag, the motion forced a wedged item to spring forth from the spot it had been stuck in, fluttering towards the ground. A golden feather, long and splayed in its plumage, floated slowly, barely catching Koya’s attention before it landed pristinely on the ground. The motion to pick it up was swift, but for a moment, peering upon it between her fingers, the Warrior of Light felt a vague sense of sadness within the pit of her stomach.

A feather more pure than that of a Chocobo’s down. Softer than silk, and held an unknown power beyond all the Thirteen. A call to her was distant as she started into the vanes of gilt, her mind trying to reach why this had been so important. Why, in the very core as blue eyes soaked in the image that everything about it pulled her to an answer she was uncertain of how to form.

Everything she had ever done, every action since the beginning of when she had arrived upon Hydaelyn, it always led back to the feather that so unceremoniously laid dormant between her fingertips.

----

A bag was thrown at her, the green filled eyes of the boy flashing at her. “You want to get stronger?” His tenor, a soft brass that most would call as heavenly as his form was. “You’re not going to find any place around here anymore. So, use these wisely, Koyakumo.”

Tanned arms crossed over his half bared chest, the blonde man with serpentine eyes cocked his hip as he stared at the girl before him, who had caught the bag and already began to pilfer inside. His wings, large wings shuffled with the movement of the contents the violet haired girl shifted around with her fingers. “I told you to call me ‘Koya.’” She added, plucking out one of the feathers.

A golden plume, glowing with an ethereal sheen. Holding it up, it glistened in the light, nearly matching precisely the hue on the man’s back.

“Right, ‘Koya, Enterra’s strongest Hybrid.’ I’ve been hearing you say that since you were at my knees.” A grin spread across the man’s features, but the girl wasn’t paying him any attention. “Whatever will the Tatsuro household do now that their eldest daughter has achieved her goal?”

“Almost achieved it.” Koya lowered the feather, scowling. “I still haven’t beat Papa. He may be an Enterran, but if I’m gonna be the strongest, I gotta beat him too. Except everyone here is way too weak compared to him!”

“It’s what happens when you’re basically a god.”

“Exactly!” She jabbed the feather towards the man before using the end of it to tickle at his nose. “Which is why I’m also not going to take the name Tatsuro with me either. From now on, I’m Koya Shindou, Hybrid who challenges every person in different worlds!”

“Taking the name of your hometown?”

“What else? Gotta tell the world about who I am, and nothing says me more than where I’m from!”

A groan escaped the man as he shook his head. “You know my power and feathers have conditions, right? Use them wisely. Each one will serve as a line back home here, but until you achieve whatever goal you have in that world, the link can’t open again.” He spoke matter-of-factly, despite waving away the taunting feather in his face. “They only work when they’re glowing. No glow, no portal.”

“Easy then,” Koya gestured the feather away, gingerly blowing on it to make it float. She had seen the man do it many a time before. As it floated, the quill angled towards an empty part of the room. A glittering light sprung forth and seemed to crack the air, the scenery caving to a golden, flat, hover hole. “My goal is to defeat the biggest threat out in that world and get as strong as I can before coming back.” Her grin turned wide, excitement flashing in the sky blue irises. “So, I’ll be back soon, Osiris. Don’t stay up waiting for me!”

Before the man could answer, give further warnings, or anything else that might have helped her, Koya sprinted into the gilded portal, vanishing from sight. Within seconds, the hole restored, and nothing was left of Koyakumo Tatsuro on Enterra.

--

The one thing that should have been mentioned, was to never mix magic.

Upon landing on Hydaelyn’s soil, it was by mere coincidence that Koya would be summoned by the crystal. Receiving her blessing was a boon, allowing the girl to grow and cultivate in various ways. Learn from the Scions. Become a valiant warrior, learning trades that she had never thought possible. Growing through her adolescent eighteen summers and into her twenty-first   among those who had become companions.

A Hybrid who had the guise of a Hume amongst the races. Blended well, to her advantage. Yet she never renounced her heritage.

Beyond the strength she had garnered under Louisiox, she had learned the capacity for team work. For being strong among her peers, despite the desires to return to Enterra and the family she had left behind. After each and every challenge, Koya would always check on her feather that brought her from home to see if it illuminated once more.

It never did.

Even still, the girl did not lose heart. Tucking it in a hidden pocket within her coat, Koya would strive on. Her goal was near and she could feel it. On the eve of the Seventh Umbral Calamity, Bahamut, king of all Primals, was on the verge of being born. The party she had gathered with stood on the cliff, overlooking the battle that raged on below. Rather than fear, Koya had a smile on her face.

“This is it, I know it is.” She chuckled, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder before grinding her curled glove into her opposing palm. “This is my ticket home.”

“You say that every time, Koya.” The White Mage hissed, which was answered by a gaze shot by the monk towards her. The latter wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue in response.

“Enough.” The Bard silenced them, pulling back the string on his bow. “We have incoming, get ready. We’re going to take this down…and maybe, maybe Koya will be right.” A tugged smile came from the party leader’s rugged expression, causing the fighter to grow with excitement.

“Let’s take that big lug down!”

Yet it was never to come. The overwhelming force of Bahamut raged and destroyed the people and the lands. In an attempt to save those champions that had been praised, her teacher, Louisiox Leveilleur gave his life to transport them away from the battle. Away from the time and into the future, where they could survive. Pleas and outreached hands were lost into the white light, and the remaining glistening feathers were lost in the rift, taken along with the memories of the time of heroes.

--

Before Hydaelyn once more, the crystal asked for a name of her defender. “…Koya…kumo.”

But call me Koya!

Echoes of a time past, drooped blue eyes in the void before the blessed bestower, her mind far from the times that she had garnered her strength. Become so close to her goal, she could almost taste home. The crystal asked once more for her full name. “Koyakumo…Ta…”

I’m giving up the Tatsuro name! I’m—

“Koya…Shindou.” A response that seemed to please Hydaelyn. Thrusting her Warrior of Light back into the world, things had shifted since her first emergence into the land. The woman’s mind was muddled, searching through her bags to see what she had with her. A few potions. A couple bits of food. A few hundred gil. Anything a good adventurer would have with them on the start of a journey.

Yet none of it she could remember garnering herself. In fact, she could barely remember much aside from a few bits and pieces of a hometown that she felt she had not seen in a long time. Enterra. That was a place, right? But it had been so long since the place even crossed her mind. So long in fact, she couldn’t recall the town’s name. Strange, but she knew her goal: head to a city state, become an adventurer.

An ordinary Hume…No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t a Hume, but a Hybrid. But as she tried to think more on it, the term began to lose it’s meaning.

As she boarded a carriage towards Ul’dah, a stabbing sensation radiated from above her ribs. Shifting through her jacket, Koya pulled a long feather out from her pocket, holding it up to the light. Brows furrowed together, a familiar sensation washing over her as she stared, inspecting the object closely.

“What…is this?” The question hung in the air, the feather silent and unresponsive in her fingers.

--

“Koya!” The leader, a Dark Knight, came and tapped his knuckles on her temple lightly. “You said you were ready.”

Koya had kept the strange feather from that day on, stashing it in a small pocket in her bag. Holding it without knowing it’s purpose. “Oh, yeah, sorry.” She waved her hand dismissively, packing the object back within the hiding spot. Seeing it once more had reminded her of the day she arrived at Ul’dah. Thinking back on why she had started her adventure, and the growing questions she had.

Why had she even started towards the large city state all that time ago? Why was she chosen by the crystal?

And why did it seem, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember her parent’s faces? Their names, or where she came from? Every day that passed seemed to eat up one she had lived in that other place. A place that no one had heard of, that seemed just like a fairytale.

Shutting her eyes tightly, Koya shook her head, lifted her chin, and smiled. “Come on, last one to strike is buying dinner!” Skirting away from the Dark Knight, she began to run in, only a fraction behind the Warrior who had charged in first.

“Koyakumo! You know you shouldn’t pull the enemies!” The man yelled at her, his stubble coated chin and unkempt hair only adding to the nature of his class. The woman laughed, spinning on her heel to turn and face him, before winding up her arm, a swirl of her long violet hair twirling around her before she crashed her fist into one of the monsters.

“Call me Koya, ‘cause I’m gonna be the strongest Hybrid ever!”

Whatever it was that meant, the phrase ingrained on her heart.

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Mission: Normalcy

(Also on AO3 if you want to leave a kudos/comment)

Plot:  It was meant to be a simple undercover mission, that was all. Something she could absolutely handle, despite her senseis' concerns. Still, being subtle and laying low was never exactly Foot Recruit's strongest skill, and while she may be able to complete a successful mission, she still can't get in and out without a certain pigtailed cashier noticing her. Then again, this may not be a bad thing...

((I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS FOR SO LONG!! Unfortunately, work and ideas for my drabble series got in the way. STill, I'm happy to finally post this ^v^ As long as Foot Recruit is a teen (I'm pretty sure she is, canon hasn 't said otherwise), I will happily support the AprilxFoot Recruit pairing, and I really hope we get to see these two interact in the show ^v^ ...hopefully not while Recruit is trying to also kill the turtles, lol. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!))

The pristine, fairly clean space around her was her battlefield.

The shops? Lookout towers, where suspicious eyes were sure to be watching her every move.

The officers that rolled by on their miniature set of wheels? They were soldiers, ones that she could easily fight physically but still couldn’t afford a battle with.

The citizens who strolled by? At worst, they were in the way. Crowding the long, tiled halls and making any rushed escape nearly impossible, just by how slow witted and slow moving they were. BUT , at best, they would be her camouflage.

And her? She was a lone warrior, standing among the crowds and staring down her surroundings with determination and silent fury in her eyes, her new ‘uniform’ neat yet flowing. Unlike her typical gi, her pastel pink jacket and medium length purple sundress hid her muscles and multiple hidden shuriken well. This combined with the long, dark wig on her head made her look like just another foolish seventeen year old, there to gawk at wares and buy things she didn’t need.

The Foot Recruit took another deep breath, straightening her position even more. Despite the occasional looks from the people walking past, she did not flinch. Even the occasional flick of water from the fountain behind her couldn’t cause her to lose her edge or her focus. This was her mission… She could do this! Prove her worthiness! ‘I shall not fail again!’ she thought to herself.

And with that (as well as the mall directory that she had studied meticulously) in mind, she left her surveillance point and began to ‘stroll’ down the mall path. Each step was firm, her heel coming down like a dagger into an enemy, her fists holding still by her sides. Again, she received a couple curious looks, but none of her fellow shoppers stopped to confront her directly. Excellent, her cover look was working!

‘I knew Sensei had no reason to worry!’ she smiled, ‘Just as I told him!’ Yes, they may have only been her second solo mission, and sure ‘subtle’ and ‘stealth’ weren’t exactly her strongest skills, but she still had this completely under control! Brute always seemed to worry too much about her anyway, something she had used to taken offense with until she’d heard him gushing about her skills to another soldier. Clearly he knew she was capable, he just had a habit of being a bit too caring when it came to his student.

...Recruit refused to say so aloud but, she didn’t exactly mind this.

But her other sensei, the Lieutenant, trusted her completely, even after her last (technical) failure. All he had said before sending her on her way was that she needed to remember: Blending in was the key. Get in, get the information we need, and get out. Frankly, it was almost too simple.

‘But nevertheless important,’ Recruit reminded herself. Another artifact was on the line, and after her senseis’ successful robbery at Gilbert’s Department Store, other high end stores in New York had tightened up their security. But that would not stop the Foot Clan, not as long as she had anything to say about it!

Recognizing a couple of the shop signs from the map, the Recruit increased her pace, scanning the area until she saw it. A small- ...Well, she wasn’t quite sure of the word for it. Spiritual seemed fairly appropriate, but also completely wrong. There was incense and small stone statues of Buddha and other gods, but also tacky dragon and wizard statues and long glass bottles that Recruit knew weren’t just for display. She sneered at the tacky shop.

Still, despite it’s more… controversial wares, there were still plenty of expensive items in the shop, ones that the moronic people running the shop thought were just highly collectible decorative pieces, and were simply placed on a shelf behind the counter, their true power and potential remaining unknown…

‘The Foot shall take over this world,’ Recruit smirked, ‘And most of these idiots won’t even see it coming…’ She made a move to step towards the shop - and froze. Once again, the words of her higher ranking sensei echoed through her head.

Blending in was the key…

Even the most unobservant shopkeeper would notice a person staring at their more expensive items and searching for security measures. “Ugh…” No, she couldn’t afford to draw ANY suspicion! Not until she got the information she needed for her clan and completed her mission! Even if she could escape the shop before any mall cops could be called to confront her, there was still a chance that her actions could lead to even more countermeasures being installed before the robbery took place, making her mission completely pointless! No, worst than pointless, because it would hurt her senseis’ plans rather than help them!

Recruit growled. This was why she preferred battles and combat-focused missions over stealth! Why did she have to follow all these ridiculous social rules when it would be SO MUCH EASIER to just run in there and crush all the security cameras and hidden alarms with her own to hands?!

“...Mama? Why is that girl growling?”

Recruit snapped her head at the accusing voice, her glare sharpening as she bared her teeth. The toddler whimpered, and with a small glare of her own, the mother quickly picked the child up and walked away.

“...Right,” Recruit sighed. Blending in. Staying undercover. She couldn’t do this her way, she had to follow mission protocol - and show her larger sensei that he had nothing to worry about. Show that she could handle a stealth mission just as well as she could handle taking on four tallking turtles in a hand-to-hand battle.

So, it was back to observation. She scanned her surroundings, making sure to focus especially on her fellow teenagers. Most of them were looking at their phones, laughing at some ridiculous meme or listening to some sort of audio. She did have a throw-away phone on her, one that would certainly make her look more casual (more-so than talking into her mystic crystal would, at least)… But no, she had to save her battery, just in case she was captured. A few teens had shopping bags hanging off their forearms… She would certainly look like a typical customer with those.

Recruit shook her head. No, that wouldn’t do at all. She only had a small sum of money on her person, and she didn’t want to slow herself down with useless weight. Besides, wouldn’t having large, open bags on her make her look more suspicious, possibly causing the shopkeeper suspect that she could be looking for things to shoplift?

She was starting to get frustrated once again when she saw it, the last piece of her disguise that she had been missing! A bright, medium sized orange cup with a straw that she could absentmindedly sip on and look just as casual and non threatening as any other teenager in the mall! She laughed quietly to herself. “Excellent…” It really was perfect.

Luck seemed to be on her side, it would seem, since there was an Orange Julius just a couple shops away with only a small line. A small smirk still on her face, Recruit strolled towards it and got in line. She eyed the people now in her personal space, but again most of them were either on their phones or chatting with other people in line. “Hehe…” Completely blended in.

She counted off the seconds she had to weight in her head, her eyes still glancing around to make sure there were no mall cops or more suspicious toddlers coming her way. Before long, it was her turn at the counter. “Hey there,” the cashier smiled. She was a dark-skinned girl with red framed glasses, her curly hair put up in matching pigtails. A simple name tag hung from her apron, stating the word “ April ”. Friendly, pleasant looking… Recruit could understand why she was assigned this job.  “What can I get ya?”

Recruit opened her mouth, and nothing came out. Unbelievable… She had been focusing so much on her surroundings that she hadn’t even bothered looking at the menu! “I will, be deciding in just a moment!” she managed to get out. Her eyes darted towards the larger-than-expected menu above them, but the voice of the cashier brought them back down.

“I’d recommend the orange smoothie, myself,” the cashier offered, “Definitely a classic that most people will enjoy.”

“Then I will take one average sized orange smoothie drink,” Recruit replied (though it was more like a command). “...Please and thank you.”

The cashier nodded. “One smoothie, comin’ up.” The machine worked fast, producing a cupful of frothy orange liquid within a minute. “$3.70 please,” she told her when she returned with the cup, poking a straw into its top.

Recruit nodded back at her and took out her change purse from her jacket pocket. Quickly and efficiently, she took out a neatly folded twenty dollar bill and presented it to the girl behind the counter, who just continued to smile at her. Either she was just as observant as the rest of the citizens of New York, or she simply didn’t mind Recruit’s tone. Or, perhaps it was just her job to be polite. It was most likely the third option, Recruit told herself.

The cashier accepted the bill, and as she ducked into the register, Recruit grabbed the cup and walked away as briskly as she could, taking a couple sips along the way. ...It was admittedly a pretty good smoothy, but she would focus on that later. She had wasted enough time, she had to begin the next stage of her mission. So without another moment of hesitation, Recruit walked into the shop with her smoothy in hand, and her phone at the ready…

...In highsight, maybe she had overestimated the dedication and vigilance of the shopkeepers.

She had spent an hour wandering around the small shop, staring at cameras and possible trigger spots, taking the occasional picture, and sipping her smoothie. She had done all this, and the apathetic 20-something barely even looked at her, instead focusing on his magazine. The only interaction they had was when he asked in a completely uninterested tone if she needed help finding anything, clearly not caring about the answer.

Recruit had still ended up buying a small package of incense, just in case the cashier was simply playing dumb in order to trick her into making a mistake. At least now she could claim she was in fact a paying customer if anyone confronted her about her time spent there.

Not wanting the information to be lost if someone were to ambush her on her way back to the base, Recruit took a moment to text all her information and photos to her senseis. She received a reply from her lieutenant within a few seconds.

“Excellent work, recruit! It looks like your mission was a total success, and for this, you shall be accompanying us tomorrow night when we steal the artifact!” But before she could put her phone away, she received a second text. “Brute says good work too.”

Recruit smiled. “Hai. Thank you, senseis,” she typed, finally relaxing. Her mission was officially a success, and her senseis were pleased. Now, all she had to do was make her way out of the mall, and-

“Hey! Uh, excuse me!” a voice called in the distance.

Recruit spun around. She had expected a mall cop, or even another shopkeeper. But instead, she saw the cashier from the Orange Julius, waving at her from behind the counter before racing out of the smoothie shop and towards her.

She could feel the handle of her shuriken sliding down into her palm, but she fought the urge to grip it. A fight would cause unwanted attention and suspicions… She couldn’t drop the ‘normal teenage girl’ act yet, not now! Still, Recruit raised the rest of her defenses, curious as to what this girl wanted with her, seeing as she had already successfully made her payment. Interrogation, perhaps?

“Hey!” the girl said, only a bit breathless as she slowed her pace, “Glad I caught ya! And my shift was just ending too! Heh, talk about good timing, huh?”

“What is it you want?” Recruit demanded, her tone coming out just a tad harsher than she had intended, judging by the girl’s reaction.

“You uh… Your change.” Reaching into her pocket, the girl pulled out several bills and coins. “You forgot your change earlier. I was getting it for ya and, well, you just kind of left.”

“Oh.” Right, of course. “Thank you,” Recruit nodded, accepting the change.

“Yeah, no problem,” the girl smiled, “Heh, with how expensive things are, every little bit counts, right? I’m just glad I was able to give it back to you before headin’ home.” She glanced away for a moment, holding onto her arm. “So, yeah… Glad I could help.”

“Yes…” Still staring and watching her, Recruit tilted her head a bit. So… she wasn’t going to confront her, she was just being nice? A bit unexpected, but not necessarily unwanted. “Thank you,” Recruit nodded, finally breaking the slightly awkward silence, “Your honorable actions are appreciated.” She then gripped the empty cup slightly. “And, your smoothie was very delicious.”

“Heh, oh, really? Well, it’s not my recipe but, thanks!” she smiled, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Oh, my name’s April, by the way.”

“Yes. I can see that, according to your name tag.”

April cringed slightly, resisting the urge to facepalm. “Oh, right, duh. So uh, what’s your name?”

Recruit - Yuu - froze, though only for a moment. “Rinko,” she lied, using the first name that popped into her head. Even if her secret identity wasn’t exactly one of high status or fame, she still felt the need to protect it for both her and her clan’s sake. Only her senseis used her real name, and she wanted to keep it that way.

“Rinko,” April repeated, “That’s a nice name."

“Thank you, April is a satisfactory name as well.” April just gave a small giggle at that, falling back into casual friendliness. It was, once again, unexpected. This April didn’t really stare at her like other citizens did. If she thought Recruit was in any way out of the ordinary, she didn’t wear it on her face. Or, maybe she did think so, but didn’t mind it. “I… need to be going now,” Recruit said suddenly, “My sen- fathers are at home waiting for my return.”

“Ah, right. Yeah, I’m gonna be heading home soon too, once I grab my stuff,” April nodded, though her smile dimmed a bit, “But, hey, see you around!”

Recruit paused, her body in mid-step. She met April’s eyes, and with a slightly softer tone, she replied with “I will, and I wish you the same,” choosing to ignore the second part of the girl’s goodbye. Not sparing another word or glance her direction, Recruit walked away. Still, her hands were relaxed as she walked, staying flat rather than folding up into fists once more. That… wasn’t too aggravating of an interruption, she admitted to herself.

Still, as well as her disguise had worked, she was not an ordinary teen girl. She still had her duties to complete, training to finish before the day was up and another mission to prepare for. She just didn’t have time for unimportant activities like ‘hanging out’.

...Though, that didn’t necessarily stop her from thinking about it.

----------------

Recruits didn’t receive many days off, though with how skilled she was, Yuu could afford a couple extra ones - especially since she normally found herself training or sparring with some hopeless grunt anyway despite not being required to.

And yet, here she was, once again walking amongst the fools of the city. This time, she was wearing a garnet long-sleeved shirt and black pants. Still not quite as nice as her gi, but a bit more comfortable than a dress while still being inconspicuous, at least (even if the wig on her head still made her scalp itch).

Part of her couldn’t help but be annoyed with herself, wondering why on Earth she’d drag herself back to a place like this willingly. Even if it was the setting of her clan’s latest victory, despite the efforts of those disgusting turtles, it was still a place that offered nothing but time-wasting activities and near-useless appliances. But another part of her, well… That part was annoyed for a different reason.

The cashier at the Orange Julius, now a slightly younger, acne-covered fifteen year old boy, glanced back up at her. Recruit glared back at him, forcing his nervous gaze back to the customer he was serving. The Recruit then sighed. “I knew this was a ridiculous idea…” She had wasted enough time here.

“...Um, excuse me?” A familiar voice spoke up. Recruit turned around.

The expression on the girl’s face when from cautiously curious to a full-on grin. “Hey, I thought it was you! It’s Rinko, right?”

“Yes, that is my name,” Yuu said quickly, remembering her cover, “And I remember you as well, April.”

“Heh, cool, cool,” April nodded. Her smile faltered a bit, though at her own not exactly ‘cool’ words than anything Recruit was doing. “So, you plannin’ on getting another smoothie, or-?”

Recruit considered her answer. “I was thinking about it.” She looked at April’s outfit, this time a yellow shirt with a green jacket and black tights. “You’re not working today then?”

“Nope,” April shook her head, “In fact, I’m kiiiinda not going to be working there ever again. I got fired.”

Recruit narrowed her eyes, suddenly looking much more like her warrior-self. “On what grounds? From my experience, you performed your serving duties perfectly? What reason could your superiors have to terminate you?!”

Not at all bothered by the other girl’s tone, April just sighed. “Ask my brothers. On my last shift, they came in after hours and uh, things got a bit crazy.” That may have sounded like she was throwing her brothers under the bus, but she didn’t really know how to explain an instance where her brothers (who just so happened to be four mutant turtles) tried to chase a giant, smoothie loving mutant-silverfish out of the shop for her and ended up accidentally smashing everything in the process in a ‘normal’ way. And she miiiight have done a bit of smashing of her own when she decided it was a good idea to grab a chair from the small employee sitting area, hoping to hit the creature, only to break the chair itself.

“It’s fine, not the first time it’s happened, and it’s not like I wanted to stay there for a long time anyway.” Still, finding a new job was sure to be a pain, one that she wasn’t in the mood to endure at the moment. “So, I’m just here browsing and walking around, killing some time cause I was bored.”

“Ah. It’s for the best, then, I suppose.” Recruit looked down at April’s outfit again. “Green suits you more than orange does, if that also helps.”

April grinned, chuckling. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” Yuu didn’t smile back at her, but her gaze did soften a bit. It would seem April’s laugh was just as nice as her smile. “...Hey, so,” April began again, her own expression now a mix of hopeful and cautious, “If you’re not here for anything specific, would you wanna maybe hang out? Together? I-I mean, you don’t have to if you wanna just hang out by yourself - totally nothing wrong with hanging out by yourself! I was just, you know, offering. And uh, yeah…” She cringed again. Ugh. Why was it that she could talk to mutants no problem but was a total disaster when it came to talking to other humans? It didn’t exactly help thay Rinko was so cool looking, and nothing at all like the other kids at her school (especially given that she actually remembered April’s name…).

Recruit stared back at her. She hadn’t threatened her, yet April seemed almost nervous around her. But, not in a distrusting or suspecting way, like she knew ‘Rinko’ wasn’t who she seemed. No, instead it was a type of nervousness that, in a way… Yuu could also understand. After all, there was a reason why joining a clan of ancient monks who only judged based on merit and skill was so appealing to her. “I… believe I would enjoy hanging out with you,” she said slowly, tightening her fists but forcing herself to keep eye contact, “So, I accept your invitation. But only for a couple hours.” Couldn’t let herself get too involved after all.

Still, that was enough for April. “Great!” she grinned, “That’s, that’s great! Yeah, we can find something to do for a couple hours. Um… Have you been to the arcade on the third floor yet? They’ve added a few more games.”

“I have not,” Recruit answered. So, that’s where they went.

The silence between them was still a bit awkward as they walked, but not yet suffocating. April kept up with Recruit’s strong pace well, and only further impressed her once she demonstrated her skills on one of the virtual fighting games.

The ice had officially been broken sometime between Recruit recalling the very happy memory of how she defeated a student in her ‘class’ three years older than her when he refused to stop insulting her and April sharing the story about how she got in a fight with some girls from her rival middle school softball team and won despite being completely outnumbered, proud to reveal that she had some moves of her own. By the time they got to the wack-a-mole machines, competing to see who could get the higher score, they were getting along like old friends.

Recruit didn’t try to hold back her boasts or her victorious laughter whenever she won again, something April found both entertaining and, admittedly, a bit adorable. Whenever April snarked or offered a clever comment to someone staring at them, her nerves no longer tying a small part of her down, Recruit couldn’t help but admire her fierce spirit along with her words.

Two hours turned to three, then four with a quick stop at a frozen custard place on their way out. By the time they exchanged numbers and went their separate ways, the bright lights of the city were coming on as the sun slowly set. Still, even with a whole day gone without a single moment of actual training, Recruit couldn’t help but feel satisfied.

She would always be a warrior. She would always be a member of the Foot Clan. This was her destiny, and this was what she wanted for her life, there was no denying this.

“But…” Recruit said to herself, staring down at April’s contact information down at her phone, memorizing it all with ease, “Perhaps there is room for… other things. For now.” She wouldn’t let herself get distracted, she would continue to work hard. But forming an alliance with this girl - this girl with strong grins and a warrior’s spirit of her own and bright laughter that could bring a smile to Yuu’s own face, her friendly nature and her strength just as evident as her beauty-

She stopped, blushing at her own ridiculous thoughts. “...Forming an alliance with her would, would be only a positive.” If April’s stories were true, she could certainly hold her own in a battle. Perhaps she could even be convinced to join the Foot. But until that opportunity came up, Recruit decided with a small smile that just hanging out with her on the occasional day off would be enough in the meantime - and she was certainly looking forward to it.

With newfound energy filling her, the Recruit darted into the growing shadows, disappearing without a trace...

Across town, deep in the sewers, April was having similar thoughts as she laid face down in one of her brother’s bed, excited yet completely flustered.

“I’ve finished my scans aaaaaand yep, she’s got it bad,” Donnie commented, causing April to groan into her pillow. Raph just patted her back, and glared at Leo when he started snickering again.

“What?” Leon said, smiling sheepishly, “I’m not trying to be mean, I just think it’s cute! It’s not every day someone in this family gets to go on a, what’d you call it, April? A ‘sort of date’ and gets a huge cruuuuuu-” His teasing was cut off by an action figure to the face, courtesy of April grabbing it off his nightstand.

“Girl, you have GOT to get pictures, next time!” Mikey told her, “I wanna see her! How cool did you say she was, again? Like, ‘most popular girl in school’ cool or ‘rebel biker chick’ cool?”

“ Definitely rebel biker chick,” April answered, lifting her head a little so her voice wasn’t as muffled. She knew that even when she first saw her in pastel pink. “Trust me, this girl was just as tough as she was cool. But…”

Mikey smirked, remembering the other little detail his sis had given them. “Uh huhhhhh… And remind me, just how cute and pretty was this girl?” April just groaned again.

Donnie shook his head. “Fellas, I think we’ve officially reached ‘useless lesbian’ status.” April kicked at him, but he and the rest of her brothers could only laugh.

Okay, so maybe she was a little head-over-heels but, hey, she was April O’Neil, and she deserved to have a fun afternoon out with a cool, tough, gorgeous girl, right? Maybe Rinko was a bit strange when it came to some of her quirks, but it wasn’t as if she was rude or even THAT weird. April just had a good feeling about her, and if their next ‘sort of date’ was as fun as this one had been, then she definitely couldn’t wait for it. ...If she could work up the nerve to ask for one, that is. Honestly, she just hoped that she’d be able to initiate a text conversation without chickening out.

Still, she had a good feeling about this… And maybe if she was lucky enough, they’d get close enough and open enough for April to feel safe introducing her to her family outside of just her father and aunt. But in the meantime, April was just going to try and enjoy whatever time she got to spend with her.

She thought of Rinko’s rare smile, and closed her eyes with a blissful sigh. Just getting to see that again - to smile and laugh along with her - was enough motivation for her to at least try.

“Oh yeah,” she heard Leo say, his voice full of amused affection, “She’s definitely got it bad.” The other turtles nodded, and silently wished her the best of luck, both with winning this girl’s affection and with avoiding crazy mutants or weird flame-heads while on their dates.

THE END

[remnantoforario]

The Road Not Travelled AKA Fairy Tail’s Lack of Motivation

I know. I know. Another long-winded post about why Fairy Tail isn’t good, but before you fire up the reblog button calling me a hater, I just wanted to say my peace about something that has been bothering me about the series, almost since it started. That is (as the title clearly states) Fairy Tail (and by extension Hiro Mashima’s) lack of motivation when it comes to its characters.

Warning: This post is going to be very messy. This is mostly a rant/scattered thoughts about a variety of different things in the series. If you’re looking for more cohesive breakdowns of the series faults, I suggest looking at posts from @thegreatrhapsode, @ac-fairytail, and a few others since they would be much better at this than I am. Let’s get started. 

So what do I mean by “A lack of motivation”? It’s simple really. None of the main characters in Fairy Tail have anything to do and thus aren’t motivated to do anything other than what they have been doing. I’ll break them down.

Natsu: When he is first introduced in the series it was established immediately that his one goal in the series was to find Igneel. It was this goal that lead him to Hargeon where he met Lucy, and it was also what spurned him to go find Macao for Romeo. It is also one of the first things Mirajane tells Lucy about Natsu after she joins the guild. He forms a connection to Gajeel over their missing parents, and it is also one of the first thing Jellal says about him when he bursts into Erza’s mock trial.

Natsu’s singular focus in the story should be investigating any lead he can on Igneel...but after Phantom Lord he seems to lose motivation (there’s that word again) in favor of just doing whatever at the guild. Now I’m not saying every single arc Natsu should be out looking, but the fact that after Phantom Lord, Igneel isn’t really mentioned again until Eclipse poses a very large problem for Natsu as a character and the story as a whole.

Even when given a new goal (that of killing Acnologia) he still meanders around until the final fight to put the guild back together. 

With a goal so concrete in his mind, it would only make sense for the story to form around this idea and have arcs centered on it, but it doesn’t so Natsu is left dicking around with nothing to do. But he’s not the only one with this problem.

Lucy: Arguably the best developed character in the series, she suffers from a lack of motivation very early on. It was established not long into the story that her goal after joining FT was to gather all the Zodiac Keys (and finish her novel but that was never all that important and more of a character quirk). It wasn’t as pronounced as Natsu’s goal was, but it was progressing further than his. She already had Aquarius, Cancer, and Taurus before the story began, she acquired Sagittarius as early as the second storyline after the Everlue job, helping Loke gained her his Leo key, beating Angel during the Oracion Seis arc granted her the Gemini Twins and Scorpio, and Loke defeating Caprico helped Lucy regain her mother’s Capricorn key (which she was originally supposed to have anyway). 

Her goal seemed attainable...until the GMG (This arc was responsible for A LOT of FT’s problems, but that’s a post for another day). Yukino presents Lucy the chance to complete her goal by offering the remaining zodiac keys, but Lucy refuses. 

Now her reasoning is sound enough, being a CS wizard herself she knows how important the bond between a spirit and their wizard is and wouldn’t feel right breaking that up. That is fine and speaks to Lucy’s character, but the problem arises in that there is nothing for her to do after this moment. You could argue that her new goal is finding Aquarius’ new key but that is established so late into the story that it’s pretty much moot (even the sequel hasn’t done much with it at this point). 

Happy: Never really had any long lasting motivation outside of what Natsu wanted. Moving on.

Gray: Probably one of the biggest wastes of potential in the series when it comes to rival/best friend characters, Gray almost immediately stagnated after Galuna Island. His mission of “killing” Deliora done. He was aimless until literally Tartaros when he met Silver, after which his motivation became “Kill END” and we all know how that ended. 

Erza: Has pretty much the same problem as Gray, but worse. After her issues in the Tower of Heaven were solved, she was pretty much done for the rest of the series. Any significant change that could have been brought to her character was swiftly tossed aside in order to keep the status quo and she became a shell of herself as early as Tenrou Island. A mere two arcs later. 

Wendy: Probably the most developed character after Lucy (in my opinion) she was both blessed and cursed by having her issues resolved in the same arc she was introduced. After that, she pretty much integrates into the guild immediately and seems to have no goals other than “get stronger” and “be less clumsy”. Both are admirable, but nothing worthy enough to justify her being a main character. 

Compare FT’s main cast to that of One Piece or My Hero Academia’s. Now you can argue that a lot of the characters in both these series aren’t well developed, but the one thing both Oda and Horikoshi excel at over Mashima is that their main characters have goals that can be carried throughout the series and, characters with less broad goals don’t overstay their welcome. They do what they are introduced to do and leave soon after.

In OP, the main goal of the story has always been finding the titular treasure. It’s a defined goal, but also broad enough to carry the characters throughout the entire series. 

Luffy’s goal is to find the One Piece, but not only is the story framed around this idea, Luffy’s crew is as well. Zoro wants to become the world’s strongest swordsman, an easy way to do that is travelling the world and defeating strong opponents. Nami wants to map the entire world, best way to do that is travelling it. Usopp wants to be a “brave warrior of the sea”. He does that by doing various feats across the world and building his legend. Sanji wants to find the All Blue, Chopper wants to be the world’s best doctor, Robin wants to find the Poneglyphs and learn the world’s dark history, Franky wants to create the world’s best ship, Brook wants to reunite with Laboon after travelling the world, and Jinbei wants peaceful coexistence between Fishmen and humans. 

With the possible exception of Jinbei, everyone’s goals (while vastly different) center around and are bolstered by Luffy’s search for One Piece. Helping him in turns helps them, its mutually beneficial and thus creates a group of characters who are together because they want to be, not because they have to. They want to see each other succeed and feel like actual friends (instead of yelling about friendship every five minutes while being massive dicks to each other)

Other characters who have arcs that are resolved leave before overstaying their welcome. Vivi is a prime example. She stayed with the straw hats long enough to reclaim her country from Crocodile, and then she was gone. Her arc was done, so there was no real reason for her to stay. She would only stagnate. 

In MHA, all of Class 1-A share the same goal of wanting to be pro heroes, but all have their own motivations that go a bit deeper than that. Both Deku and Bakugou want to be as great as All Might, Todoroki wants to spite his father, Uraraka wants to make enough money as a pro for her family to live comfortably, and Iida wants to live up to his brother’s example just to name a few. 

Since Deku is the main character the story focuses a lot on his personal journey to the top, but other notable characters get their shine when needed.

Even Naruto built its story about Naruto becoming Hokage from the very first chapter. 

Bringing all of this back to FT. None of the main characters have any established motivation, and if they do the story either isn’t structured around it (Natsu), Drops it entirely (Lucy), or finishes it and proceeds to do nothing else with the character (Gray, Erza, and Wendy).

It’s not like Mashima is incapable of writing motivated characters. Rave Master’s main cast had various different motivations that either carried them through the series, or evolved over the course of time. 

People called FT a ripoff of OP in its early stages (a comparison I still don’t quite understand), but maybe Mashima could have leaned a bit on Oda’s story structure. 

Have the story actually center around Natsu’s main goal of searching for Igneel. Have him ask questions and going on jobs based on leads he had found, taking him (and his team) on various locales across the world. Build up the continent and its history with the dragons. 

He could even leave the story for an arc or two, giving a side character (like Levy, Cana, Juvia, Mirajane, Lisanna or Elfman) a bit of time in the spotlight to develop their own stories along with the main cast. 

Change him over time to be a more single minded character post-Tartaros. Have him ignore bringing the guild back together in order to find Acnologia, which would cause tension between him and his friends and add more weight to the END turn as his obsession grows. 

If Lucy no longer wants the Zodiac keys, why not have her new goal be earning enough money to buy back her family’s home and land? Its a lofty goal to be sure, but it would add a little more weight to her desperation to go on a job other than “I need to pay rent”. It still amazes me that Lucy is supposedly came from a very influential family in terms of industry in Fiore, but no one recognized her name. They have a railroad named after them for God’s sake. Do something with that. Does she not have an inheritance?

Gray is a little harder to pin down since most of his character is tied to Deliora and with him gone there isn’t much for him to do. SO if you don’t want to phase him out, you could evolve his motivation from killing Deliora, to finding Ultear. Have Lyon or someone (possibly even Jellal in Tower of Heaven) mention that Ultear is still alive. Gray’s mission would be looking for her in order to make amends, which would lead to their fight on Tenrou, to which after his goal could once again evolve into defeating Zeref for creating Deliora in the first place, leading to the fight with Natsu. 

Erza is simple enough. She is heralded as Fairy Tail’s strongest woman, so why not have her actually lean into that and try to become a wizard saint? The near death experience would have spurned her choice, leading to an arc explaining the saints and how to become one. Erza could fail to be accepted (something she never seems to do post-Tenrou) and the rest of the story could be her working up towards that goal, and in a change of pace you could KEEP HER AS GUILD MASTER. 

One of Fairy Tail’s biggest problems is its unwillingness to change. Everything and everyone just sticks to the status quo and the story suffers all the more for it.

Keeping Erza as master changes the entire dynamic of the team because the story would have to phase Erza out and put someone else in (again either Juvia, Cana, Elfman, or some other notable side character).

Wendy’s motivations could be the same as Natsu’s, finding her dragon. Her relationship with Grandeeney is arguably as strong as Natsu’s with Igneel so her joining him on his jobs wouldn’t be much a stretch. You could even add Gajeel for an arc if you wanted. Three dragonslayers and three exceeds. 

I say all that to say that one of Fairy Tail’s most frustrating aspects is its refusal to realize the potential of its characters. There is so much to do in this world, so much lore and information imparted onto the audience, but the characters (and the author) seem to not care the least bit about it. They say they will do something, but don’t and that to me is worse than doing nothing at all. 

[paladin-andric]

11 Questions Tag Game

Tagged by @corishadowfang! Thank you!

Rules: Answer the 11 questions and then make 11 of your own, then tag some people.

1: Is there a real-life location you’d like to base a story off of/in?

Would I?! Well, there’s the Byzantine Empire, modern day Greece and Turkey. Just look up some pictures of Constantinople and you could see why I’d love to have that sort of setting. I already have a story idea for it. An alt-history fantasy where the empire never fell, and mythical beasts invade Europe...

As for places I’ve already based a story off of...the entire continent of Deaco is full of nations based on real life places. The central region, the human Kingdom of Geralthin, is based off of medieval England (with better weather though!) which can be seen with such names like Henry, Elizabeth, Albert and Edward, along with the English feudal system of Earls, Dukes and Barons, along with “Shire” and “Bury” being included in some town and province names.

The Koutu Kingdom is lightly based on  a blend of Gaelic cultures such as the Scottish and Irish, along with some Hellenic additions. Though their homeland is more plains than the Emerald Isle or the rough Highlands, their names reflect this. Domnall, Cuan, Conchobar...there’s also their pasttimes of the great Arena Marathon and other competitions of physical sport that draw on the Greek culture.

The Dacuni Tribes are heavily inspired by the Vikings. Their constant invasions to the south against every one of their neighbors, along with their constant use of battleaxe infantry should make that obvious. The wolfmen also share the similar “-nar”, “-vin”, “nir” at the end of a lot of their names. The tundra environment is similar as well, but I also just wanted an excuse for beautiful winter scenery and an aurora that lights up the sky.

The Pona Federation is a tribal republic that takes light inspiration from the Native Americans of North America. Light. I mostly just got the idea of their government from The Iroquois. The Pona are bipedal turtlefolk that live in a swampy marshland and mostly keep to themselves. I wanted some sort of republic among all the kingdoms of the world, so here they are! They develop into a modern, Constitutional Republic later down the timeline as well, one of the few places in the world that’s a bastion of freedom and liberty in a world full of autocrats and tyrants.

The Abinsil Kingdom is a subcontinent off the coast of Geralthin to the south that’s inspired by medieval Arabic kingdoms. The lizardfolk there are pious (for good reason), isolationist, and mystical. They have sects of holy warriors that guard the groves of saints, strange magic that bends reality around them, wardrakes instead of horses, and a minority of insectoids!

Finally there’s two places I haven’t really touched on, but are part of the world. The Qin Empire, a place based off medieval China (complete with eastern dragons that regularly patrol the skies), and the Republic of Salisca, based VERY heavily off of the United States (where humans have suffered at the hands of dragon-tyrants for millennia before gaining their independence).

2: What are some themes you haven’t used that you think would be fun to touch on?

I’ve touched on The Power of Friendship™ in Blackheart, but its strongest theme was that of determination and perseverance. Never give up! Fight the darkness! As long as you have a reason to believe, something to love, the corruption can never fully claim you!

Another theme I’d like to touch on is the blood of the covenant! The idea that bonds of friendship forged strong enough can be greater than even family! Themes of faith would be interesting too, a long and difficult journey where the hero questions their faith could have some really interesting and powerful results and messages.

3: What character have you created that’s the most like you? The least?

Gotta say Charles. While I’m not a winged, fire-breathing half-dragon wizard, our personalities are very similar. He’s shy, anxious, a bit of a nerd, but a good person and brave when he needs to be...really once you get past that whole dragon part we’re pretty much the same!

As for the least? Well...probably Razorwing. I mean, after what I just told you about Charles, Razorwing is a famous hero who’s always in the spotlight. He’s graceful, and skilled, and charismatic, and loved the world over...so you could see why I think he’s a far cry from me! He’s still a good person though, most characters in Blackheart are.

4: Are there any songs that really encompass what your WIP’s about?

Cold Rain and Snow

“What are we marching for?

What is this trial with our lives?

How will we win this war?

Who among will survive?”

5: Have you ever created unique races/monsters for a story? What are they?

There’s the stock dragons and kobolds, but aside from that I’ve strayed from typical fantasy, for the most part. No elves or dwarves for example. There’s the Koutu, a species of avian adventurers who revel in the unknown and make great company wherever they go.

There’s the wolfmen (Dacuni), though I’m sure there’s similar races in other media. They’re rough, gruff and prone to flying off the handle at the slightest provocation, but they’re ferociously loyal as well.

The Pona, the turtle-men of the East, were made from scratch. I wanted a calm, wise and otherworldly species that had the potential for interesting settings and circumstances (a tribal council sitting around a fire, surrounded by massive trees that go up hundreds of feet and block out the sky, anyone?)

The Ssalik of the Abinsil Kingdom are lizardmen, though not really based on any of other media. They’re friendly with humans and have their own things going on (the mystic magic, the drakes and dragons roaming their deserts...)

The half-dragons take that “dragonblood” thing and take it to the next level, the people taking on the forms of dragons because of it. They’re the size of humans and stand upright, but otherwise look just like dragons. Due to the transformation of body and mind, they have quick wits and an affinity for magic. As such, they make great sorcerers and paladins, and tend to be more accepted in academies and churches as a result.

Pseudodragons didn’t originally exist in the world. They were created, in universe, artificially by a powerful sorcerer. They’re tiny dragons the size of people that have natural urges to do good and help humanity. They love fruits and typically settle in human villages to help the villagers in their day-to-day jobs and activities. They’re near-universally selfless and kind.

The Qin...well, imagine the half-dragons, but use eastern dragons instead of european dragons as the base. They have long, flowing bodies, fins, whiskers, and no wings.

6: What’s your favorite book?

Probably The Outsiders. I can’t say I relate to the characters...but I feel for them, you know?

7: Traditional heroes or anti-heroes?

Traditional! I love classical heroes who always try to do the right thing! I think the edgy dark hero has gotten overused to the point that classical heroes are making a comeback in popularity, and I’m glad to see it. In Blackheart, most are traditional heroes. Paul or “Crux” is the closest to an anti-hero considering his background, but in the city of demons, there’s not much chance for anyone to be anything but heroic.

8: What is your favorite character from any piece of media?

Solid Snake from the Metal Gear series. A legendary hero of uncomparable skill that has somehow pulled through some of the most hopeless of situations, went rogue in an effort to save the world from Metal Gears, and has suffered and struggled against way more than he deserved to.

9: What is an AU of your WIP you think would be fun to explore?

Modern fantasy. There’s just something about fantasy races having guns and using cellphones...

10: Where do you get your inspiration from?

Demon’s Souls. The colorless fog and ruined Boletaria being so close to the black fog and ruined Palethorn are pretty obvious giveaways. Also D&D, as all the dragons, priests, holy magic and kobolds might make clear.

11: What is something you love about your WIP?

The ending. It, uh...kinda ruined me while I was writing it. I’m absolutely in love with the characters, too.

Now for my questions! (Mostly just an excuse to hear some worldbuilding!)

1: What’s your favorite genre and why?

2: Unusual themes or plot points that are important in your story? (Music or cooking, for example)

3: Which two characters are the most polar opposites? What is their relationship in the story?

4: Prophecy vs. Defying fate? Which do you think makes for a better story?

5: Which character are you most proud of, for any reason?

6: If your story could be told in any other sort of media, what would it be? How would you like it made?

7: Which part of your world is the most interesting, in your opinion? Location, lore, whatever really drew you into making it.

8: How much do your experiences color the world or characters of your story? Is it born of a worldview you either have or something you wish reality was closer to?

9: What government system does the setting follow? If it’s an international journey, how are the nations different from each other?

10: What role does culture play in the world? Where did you get the idea for such traditions and pasttimes?

11: How do you like your villains and heroes? How do they think and act most of the time?

Tagging @oceanwriter, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @elliewritesfantasy, @caffienefuelsmywriting and @lady-redshield-writes!

[i-am-the-entertainer]

RevieWBY Volume 6, Chapter 8: “Dead End”

You know, in retrospect, it was kind of our own fault for hyping it up to be Winter. But good on them for not making this new character like a big reveal.

There’s really not that much to say about this episode overall. I think it’s along the lines of Chapter 2 and Chapter 4: it’s dealing with the aftermath of something and setting up for something much more major down the line, thus it can’t really stand on its own. But like with those two, there’s some interesting stuff going on in this episode that’s worth touching upon, especially when it comes to worldbuilding.

Oh, and fyi: some major fandom crtq at the end.

Such Wit! Such Tenacity! Much wow!

This chapter offers up a new perspective on the Atlas military: Caroline Cordovin and her nationalist, racist attitude. We’ve been told in the past that Atlas is the kind of modern military nation, acting without reason, being very self-centered, blah blah blah. The problem is, we haven’t really been shown that: the only real Atlas military characters have been Ironwood and Winter, and (being generous) they’re the good guys. Volume 4 kind of showed just how shitty Jacques Schnee and his circle of buddies can be, but it wasn’t really a perspective on the military: in fact, in the post-gala scene Ironwood, as the military’s representation, seemed the direct counterpoint to the rich assholes of Atlas. With this in mind, this volume has sort of run with the assumption that Atlas’s support will be a piece of cake, but Cordovin present a reasonable obstacle while also giving us more insight into the kind of people who actually make up the Atlas military.

Qrow v. Ruby

Based on his bit from this volume’s intro sequence, how he’s been reacting to the revelations regarding Ozpin, and some comments from Miles on this week’s RWBY Rewind about how he feels awful because Qrow is making all the wrong decisions, this is definitely the volume where Qrow is going to officially hit rock bottom (if he hasn’t hit it already). Whereas Team RWBY is willing to stick to their guns about getting to Atlas even after Jinn’s story and Brunswick Farms, Qrow has given up. Remember, he had possibly the strongest reaction to finding out Ozpin doesn’t have a plan, because he devoted his entire life to Ozpin’s supposed cause and lost so many friends and family along the way: another obstacle has kicked him down even further. After three seasons of Qrow being the drunk uncle who’s still a hero, we’re closing in on dark territory for him.

Ruby has always kind of just accepted Qrow’s alcoholism as one of his quirks, but with this volume’s events she realizes it’s an actual problem, offering a new angle on their relationship after it’s remained at a constant level since Volume 3. This arc is developing quite well: from cautious awareness in Chapter 5 to an attempt to reach out in Chapter 6 to complete frustration in this chapter. I’m curious as to where this will go: it’s the most development/insight into Ruby we’ve gotten that wasn’t straight up told to us.

Well, You’d Be Mad Too

With the previous episode, it vaguely seemed like JNR finding out the truth about Ozpin was about to get glossed over, but NOPE. Their reactions were exactly as they should be, if not strong enough. It’s important to remember that they lost one of their closest friends in the fight between good and evil, and they have essentially been told that her death was for nothing. It’s almost on par with Qrow’s reaction, especially when you take into account how much Qrow has lost from siding with Ozpin all this time. I’m not defending their actions, especially Jaune’s, but rationalizing them in the context of this show. They were not going to take this news lightly, and anything lighter would have been unrealistic.

Can I just add: sidelining JNR for half the volume was a good writing decision. Not only does it decrease the number of characters we need to pay attention to for a storyline that needs razor-sharp focus in order for it to be delivered well, it prevents the utter mess that would’ve occurred if they AND Qrow had been present for Jinn’s story. It also provides a counterpoint to Team RWBY’s perspective: besides having witnessed everything in person, they have had a few days and a traumatic experience to rationalize their next moves. JNR has had no such thing, and they’re going to have to deal with this differently.

Learning Is Fun

In an example of planting-payoff, we finally get some insight into the silver-eyed warriors, three years after we were even aware it was a concept, and three years since we knew anything new about it other than you could use it against Grimm. I like the wink at just how little Ruby (and by extension, the audience) knows about such an important power.

This is a moment where a lot of information we get comes from talking, which is why I think this episode may feel a little slow, comparable to some of Volume 4 and 5′s lower moments. That said, I think the show deserves some leeway on this because this volume so far has really stuck to show-don’t-tell, plus since this is much-desired information having it in the first place is useful no matter how it’s delivered. It can also be said it makes sense to have this story delivered through dialogue, as presumably that’s how Maria learned: it’s like sharing a legend orally, and emphasizing just how rare the silver-eyed warriors are and how dangerous being one can be.

There’s something interesting going on in this scene that a few people have touched upon: Ruby commenting that her silver eyes were activated when she saw Jaune and Cinder sparring, prompting Maria to suggest that perhaps there was something she wasn’t seeing. On first thought, it refers to the fact that Cinder has a Grimm arm. Except the thing is, there’s no point in framing it the way they do: it’s framed as though there’s something mysterious for the viewer to think about, but we all know Cinder’s arm is Grimm. What does this imply about Cinder? Well, we know the whole reason she got the Fall Maiden powers was because she cheated: she used what could be best described as a parasite Grimm. We also know from her “training” with Salem that the new arm is almost a separate entity from her, but she needs the ability to control it herself rather than the other way around. There appears to be a broader implication that Cinder’s connection to the Grimm may be stronger than just a supplement to her powers or a prosthetic to her lost arm: is she becoming a Grimm/Human hybrid along the lines of Salem?

But then again, I could be overthinking it, it could just be an acknowledgment/reminder that Ruby herself doesn’t know about Cinder’s arm. But I guess it’s something to keep an eye on for the rest of the volume.

Conclusions

This is another set-up episode, and it’s not a particularly exciting one at that. It’s hard to judge these on their own considering they’re designed to service a larger storyline, but overall I just thought “Okay, things are gonna be harder than they thought, they reacted as we thought they’d react, we finally got some insight into stuff, and we’ve got our next major arc.” So I’ll just accept this as it is: straightforward set-up, some insight into the show’s mythology. I didn’t hate it or love it, I didn’t dislike it or like it, it was just eh. And considering pretty much all the chapters last volume made me feel “eh” and most of the ones this volume haven’t, I’m still happy to call Volume 6 an improvement.

By the way...if you’ve been on the RWBY tag these past couple of days, you’ve probably noticed my posts about the highly entitled part of this fandom complaining about the sneak peek for the next chapter on RWBY Rewind having animation errors, and the more rwde part of this fandom once again shitting on Miles for calling out someone for being an asshole about it. I admit, I’m getting a little too worked up about this, but honestly this whole business has really made my blood boil over the past week, a week I’ve been trying to use to relax after school let out for break, so, rant time.

IT WAS SO CLEARLY UNFINISHED, DID YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THEY WERE GONNA BROADCAST THE EPISODE WITH SUCH A BLATANT ERROR? It happened because they weren’t done with the episode before they sent the clip in for RWBY Rewind’s live broadcast. And don’t give me that bullshit about how you’re paying with a FIRST account for a 60 second sneak peek to be perfect, you’re paying 3 bucks a month so you can watch the episodes a week early, you know, like the rest of us with FIRST accounts are doing, never mind the hundreds of hours of exclusive content we get in that subscription! And shit, if you’re really on about those 60 seconds of a thirty minute RWBY aftershow needing to be perfect, you could’ve just watched the version that they put up online afterwards, which is so clearly the finished version not just because they fixed the compositing error but they added ambient effects and additional pedestrians in certain shots! I mean, I don’t even watch RWBY Rewind live half the time, most people don’t, I’ve just been paying to watch it starting the day after it’s recorded!

And god forbid Miles tell an asshole he’s being an asshole! I mean, how do you hold up A FUCKING 60 SECOND SNEAK PEEK as evidence of a drop in the show’s animation quality?! Have you been watching this fucking season? The animation is the best it’s been in ages. Like it’s actually absurd how much detail and attention they’ve put into shots, even non-fighting scenes! And don’t even get me started on how good the fights have been! Better sparingly used quality fights than overused often subpar fights (god, Volume 5 was a shitshow)!

You idiots go on and on about “Oh, I’m harsh on this show because I love it! They should listen to legitimate criticism no matter how I deliver it!” Newsflash: you don’t love this show. At this point you’re only criticizing it because you hate it. Because if you were actually criticizing it out of love for the show, you’d be pointing out actual issues this volume. You’d be saying something like “Oh, this kid of information should have been dropped earlier” or “This volume should not have set up Adam as a major player only to more or less not use him for the past 7 chapters.” Or, you know, point out actual problems with the show, even nitpicks like the weird fireplace effects at Brunswick Farms or some animation errors that popped up in Chapter 6. But the funny thing is, you’re not pointing that out. You’re pointing out a 60 second sneak peek that was clearly presented with no pretense of it being the final product and acting like you’ve found the ace in the hole, the proof that CRWBY is lazy and disrespecting of Monty’s legacy.

You don’t love this show. You love to pretend that you’re protecting the show from the very people that make it. But the fact is, it’s them who are in the writers’ rooms, it’s them who are sitting at the computers, it’s them who make the show you pretend to love. And if you’ve resigned yourself to just hating whatever it is they put out, then I’m sorry, but you’re not a fan of what the show is now. So you can either keep moaning about “Oh, Monty wouldn’t have done this,” or maybe accept the fact that there’s no way the show could do whatever it is Monty did because no one can do what Monty would do. They can only do what they do. It’s no longer just Monty’s show, it’s CRWBY’s show too. And if you’re just never gonna be satisfied with that, if every little thing they do and say is gonna make your blood boil, if every choice they make is completely against the show you’ve built up inside your head, then just don’t watch it. It would make all of us, including you, feel better.

[ishouldbewritingblog]

The One True King

Generally, it is assumed that the worst people are villains. This is false. The worst people are always heroes. Or rather, people who think they are heroes. At least with villains, you know where you stand, you expect villainy and diabolical plots. What you can’t predict on the other hand, is when someone will decide to be a hero, and heroes as a rule, are invariably stupid. The real ones almost never consider themselves heroic, they lean towards self-doubt and emotional confusion, which keeps conceit to an acceptable minimum and enables rational thought.

There were three things Artemisia truly hated in this world: mosquitos, her name and heroes. The problem with heroes, was they were always getting in the way and making life more difficult for everyone else. They were a plague, with an uncanny talent for showing up at precisely the wrong moment, with their shiny swords and their even shinier optimism. They were always getting killed as well. Come to think of it, that was probably why there was so many of them – they always needed replacing.

Art was not a hero. There was nothing remotely heroic about her. She grew up on the streets, clawing her way through life in one long, desperate fight for survival. By the time she was eight, she had acquired two very important things, a healthy suspicion of every person she ever met and a reputation for fighting dirty. When you’re a moderately small girl with nobody to protect you, you either learn that kind of thing very quickly, or you end up dead in a gutter.

Liam had found her when she was thirteen. It had taken her a year to trust him, and another year to teach him how use a knife properly. Liam was almost a hero. He even looked the part, over six feet of lean muscle, with a head of golden hair and a maiden’s dream of a face. He fought like he was dancing, all long-limbed elegance. Art fought like an alley cat with one eye.

Charlie was the third member of their association, and the only other man Art trusted. He was a thief by profession. It would have been comical how ineffective he was at thievery, if it hadn’t been so dangerous. A bad thief is a dead thief, and such would have been Charlie’s fate if they hadn’t rescued him from a poorly guarded cell in a town so small it didn’t have a name. Now, he was a mostly reformed thief and a more than passable sword-for-hire.

The sword was patient. It waited for the one true king to stretch out their hand and bring it forth from its stony prison. Men had come: the curious, the hopeful and the desperate. The strongest, the bravest and the wisest had tried, but in turn each had failed and returned home empty-handed.

He stood out from the crowd immediately, this handsome, golden-haired man who carried himself like a warrior. He stepped forwards and the clouds seemed to part above him. A beam of sunlight spilled forth to bathe him in its amber glow. A hush fell over the crowd and the silence had a heavy air to it, hung chill with anticipation. The man stretched out his hand, wrapped his fingers around the hilt, and pulled.

Nothing happened.

The crowd groaned. A small boy began to cry. The sword waited.

The man didn’t look disappointed as he stepped away with a chuckle. Perhaps, people in the crowd thought, he was not quite so handsome as he first appeared, and his hair was only really yellow, not golden at all.

‘You have to do it, Art,’ Charlie insisted.

Art snorted, ‘what’s the point,’ she said, gesturing to the golden god. ‘If Liam can’t pry the thing loose, what chance do I have? Let’s just go. I’ll buy you a pie.’

Charlie’s resolve was not to be shaken, even by the promise of baked goods. ‘You are missing the point entirely,’ he said, ‘it isn’t actually about pulling the sword out, nobody will. If it was possible, some prince would have pulled it out by now. No, it’s about the experience, being part of a living legend. Besides, we’re holding up the line and I’m not leaving until you try it.’

One of Charlie’s chief faults, in Art’s eyes anyway, was his unshakably romantic nature.

‘Liiiiaaaaaam,’ she said, ‘tell Charlie to leave me alone.’

Liam raised his hands in a don’t-look-at-me-gesture, ‘I’m flattered you think Charlie would actually listen to a word I said, but I’m afraid you’re on your own with this one Art.’

Art glared at them both. It had been a long day. A long week really. Her left knee throbbed dully. An escaping bandit had managed to trip her during their last job, and it was still troubling her a week later. Right now, there was nothing she wanted more than to collapse into a warm bed with a hot meal in her belly, and stay there until their money ran out and they had to sign onto another wagon train. But, she could also see that Charlie had no intention of letting it go. Once he fixed his mind on something, it was difficult to sway him. She thought about hitting him on the back of the head and dragging him away by the ankles, but then Liam would give her that disapproving look of his. She decided it would be less painful for everyone involved if she just let him have his way. Again.

‘Fine, I’ll give the damned thing a tug. Then, we leave,’ she sighed, rolling her eyes. Charlie grinned. ‘Should have left you in prison,’ Art muttered. She didn’t mean it.

The sword didn’t look particularly spectacular close up. It was just an ordinary sword, well-made by the looks of it, but not special. The only remarkable thing was the fact it was embedded in an enormous chunk of granite.

Art closed her fingers around the hilt and gave a half-hearted pull.

With a schlick, the sword slid smoothly upwards out of the craggy mound in which it had waited for centuries. Waiting, as it turned out, for Art.

Art looked at it stupidly, not entirely sure what had just happened. She could feel something strange, thrumming deep within her bones, coursing through her body like a rolling wave.

She dropped the sword as if it were on fire. It clattered against the flagstones and lay still, gleaming in the noonday sun.

‘Hells bells Art,’ Charlie blurted out, ‘how did you do that?’

The crowd was silent again, but the silence was disbelieving and incredulous rather than awestruck. ‘Look here,’ a red-faced man said at last, ‘you can’t just do that.’

‘Yeah,’ another man piped in, ‘the big fellow must have loosened it up for you.’

‘That isn’t true,’ Liam said dryly, ‘it was stuck and stuck properly. Even if Art didn’t really pull it out on her own, she had no help from me.’

‘Women can’t just go around pulling things out of stones,’ another man said, ‘it might give them ideas.’

Charlie laid a warning hand on her shoulder, ‘Art…’ he said.

Art wasn’t listening.

‘Fine,’ she said sweetly. Charlie took a hasty step backwards, removing himself from the potential line of fire. ‘Fine, if that’s what you think happened, why don’t you come up here and have a go for yourself.’ She picked up the sword and ignoring the gasps of horror, stabbed it straight back into the rock.

‘Go on then,’ she said, ‘show me how a man does it.’

The red-faced man was the first to try, pushing his way past the others in his eagerness. He grabbed the hilt and pulled with all his might. The sword did not budge. He pulled harder, growing even redder in the face. The crowd grew impatient and he was shoved brusquely aside by a wave of hopefuls. What followed was nearly an hour of grunting and swearing, as man after man tried and immediately failed to remove the sword. Art watched it all, arms crossed, stony-faced. Waiting.

Eventually, every man had tried their hand to no avail.

‘Now,’ Art said calmly, ‘has everyone had a turn? Good.’

Unceremoniously, not even stopping to consider if it was going to work or not, she walked up to the sword and pulled it right out of the stone with one hand, as easily if it were embedded in butter rather than a really big stone. ‘Oh my,’ she said, ‘what a big sword, whatever will I do with it.’

It was at this point that the other mob showed up, primarily consisting of all the people who had better things to do than stand around looking at an old sword stuck in an even older rock. There had been a few women in the crowd, mainly selling over-priced food to the crowd of would-be heroes, and they had scattered when it happened, spreading the word. They told their mothers and sisters, who told their friends, who had told their husbands and sons and brothers. And now they descended, a horde of them, hands coated in flour, still holding tools.

They saw Art, they saw the sword and then the crowd exploded with noise. They pressed forwards, shoving men aside, hands outstretched. She was hoisted up onto shoulders and swept away, a piece of flotsam on a rolling wave.

‘Long live the King,’ they were chanting. Fingers reached out to grasp at her as she passed, as if she were some kind of good-luck charm. Art gave one last desperate look back at Liam and Charlie, ‘help me,’ she mouthed. Liam shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘what can I do,’ Art had no choice but to let it happen.

The failed heroes looked at each other in shock, shared commiserating looks and for the most part, dispersed. Despite the evidence of their own eyes and hands, most of them would go to their graves claiming the whole thing had been a sham, and that if only one of them had had a real chance, a decent chance, a proper chance then maybe, just maybe, the Real King would have taken up his rightful place. In their minds, the Real King was always themselves. But, they were a minority, and no-one every paid much attention to them, mainly because the kind of people who go around claiming they are heroes are generally insufferable. The real heroes never think they are heroes and therefore avoid the unpleasant reputation for conceited self-importance.

Art lost sight of Liam and Charlie in the throng. She clung to the sword, trying to avoid stabbing an innocent bystander, as she was more or less tossed from hand to hand. Despite the rough treatment, she felt fantastic. Better than she had felt in years actually. All the aches and pains seemed to have disappeared and she felt gloriously alive, unstoppable, like she could fight the river and win. This made Art deeply suspicious. It all smacked of the mystical and Art held no truck with magical happenings, they got in the way and they caused trouble. Had there not been a crowd of men trying to tell her what to do, she would have stuck the sword back in the stone and left it there.

If there was one thing Art knew for certain, it was that she did not want to be a king and she was nobody’s hero.

The king was at table when the messenger arrived. He burst into the room, all aglow with sweat. He stumbled over the threshold, righting himself just before disaster and fell to his knees before the king, panting with exertion.

‘What is it?’ the king demanded, throwing down his half-eaten chicken leg. ‘How many times do I have to tell people not to interrupt me while I am eating! It’s bad for the digestion.’

The messenger looked at him nervously. The king was known, depending on his temper, to have staff executed on whim. He claimed it kept them all on their toes.

‘Spit it out man,’ the king snapped, slamming his bejewelled hand down hard on the table.

The messenger winced, ‘Your Grace,’ he stuttered out, ‘t-there’s a disturbance in the city.’

‘Well, tell the Captain of the Guard, and have him send some men out to root out the rabble-rousers,’ the king said irritably, ‘and have it spread about that the next person to trouble me with such trivial matters will lose their tongue.’

‘Someone has gone and pulled the bloody sword out of the bleedin stone,’ the messenger said, with perhaps a stray note of triumph in his voice. ‘Pulled it right out, and there’s a parade and all. They’re headed this way, proclaiming the sword-bearer the One True King.’

The king threw down his goblet and swore with the verbal dexterity of a dock-hand. ‘Where is the man,’ he roared, ‘I’ll see him hung on a gibbet before I see my throne usurped.’

Despite the danger to his continued survival, the man grinned ‘it isn’t a man. It’s a girl.’

The king’s expression turned calculating. ‘Well, well,’ he said, this I can work with.’

Art was already annoyed well before the king’s guards swooped in and snatched her. As they marched her towards the castle, not touching her, but surrounding her like a human cage. She sized them up; they had too much armour and she suspected they were better at looking intimidating than they were at actual fighting. Usually, she would have broken a few noses, kicked someone in the privates, shattered a knee-cap or two and booked it. But, with so many people around, she was worried it would turn into a full-blown riot, so like the crowd, she just went with them.

They never tried to take the sword from her. Art considered this to be their biggest mistake. If they were going to let armed strangers into their castles, they might as well hang a big banner on the wall saying ‘please come and kill us all.’ Anyone who really knew what they were doing would have taken one look at Art and pegged her for a fighter and an experienced one at that and immediately disarmed her.

They escorted her down a hall so long it seemed to stretch forever. Art had never been inside a place this big, and it made her skin crawl. The ceiling was so high above it might as well have been the sky. She didn’t see the point of what was essentially a house being this large, there were too many nooks and crannies for people to hide in. People stared at her as she walked past. She thought it was a good thing Charlie wasn’t here, with all the jewels practically dripping off these people, he probably wouldn’t have been able to help himself.

Eventually they came to a halt in front of a door which was still large by any estimation, but smaller than the rest of its surroundings. One of the guards knocked three times, Rap-tap-tap. ‘Enter,’ a voice called out. It sounded slick and oily, like an eel, or Charlie’s hair before they got sick of it and stuck his head in the river.

The guard opened the door and pushed Art in, he followed, shutting the door behind him.

Art didn’t think the king made a very impressive figure. He was on the short side, with a sallow complexion and a very small goatee. The sword hanging at his side had more jewels on it than a merchant ship. She looked at it with a critical eye: unbalanced, too much gold and oh dear, not an inlaid handle. If you tried to wield the jolly thing, all those pointy bits and jewels would cut your hand to ribbons before your opponent had time to stop laughing at you for having such a stupid sword.

‘Ahhhhh,’ he said, smiling gruesomely. His mouth was like two little greyish worms. ‘So kind of you to join me, Lady….’

‘It’s Art,’ Art said, ‘and I didn’t join you, you had me brought here, by a lot of men with swords.’

‘Speaking of swords,’ he said, apparently delighted to have been given such a convenient introduction to the subject at hand, ‘I see you have one of your own.’ He pointed at the sword Art was still gripping. ‘I’m afraid that it, and you, have caused me rather a lot of trouble. You see, that particular sword has a charming little legend attached to it. He, ahem, I do apologise, he or she, who pulls sword from stone, King shall be.’

The king walked over to a low table and poured himself a goblet of wine. He didn’t offer any to Art. ‘But you see, there is already a king. Me.’ He took a sip and stared at her calculatingly. ‘Whatever am I to do about this little dilemma?’

‘I’m not planning on sticking around, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Art said, ‘so you could just let me walk out of that door.’

‘I don’t think so,’ the king said, ‘I have a much better idea. You will marry me, and I will, of course, hold the sword on your behalf. It will pass down to our first born son, and there will be no question that through my line runs the blood of the One True King. It’s a pity you’re so scrawny and uncomely, but I suppose that can hardly be helped. ’ He gave her that thin-lipped smirk again, ‘don’t worry my dear, you will be quite comfortable. You shall have plenty of lovely things to amuse yourself with. New gowns of course,’ he thought for a minute, ‘and a little dog I think.’

‘I’m not marrying you,’ Art said bluntly, ‘I’m not marrying anyone. I don’t want your kingdom, or your throne. I’ll just take my sword and my friends and go, and you can go on being king for as long as you like.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,’ the king said, steepling his fingers together, ‘the common man is typically a dull animal, but incited by this kind of low superstition, he becomes unpleasantly single-minded.’

‘Fine,’ Art said, ‘keep the sword then.’

The king signed, ‘silly girl, were it that simple. You see, it isn’t enough to possess the sword. It’s the pulling it out of the stone part which matters.’

‘I’ve had just about enough of men calling me girl for one day,’ Art said, a dangerous note had entered into her voice. At this point, Liam would have been getting ready to drag her bodily away and Charlie would have been waiting until she was finished to check what was left for valuables if Liam wasn’t fast enough. The king was not as perceptive.

‘I did wonder if you might be difficult,’ he said, ‘the common-folk so often are. So I took the liberty of acquiring a, shall we say… incentive, for your cooperation.’ He snapped his fingers and the guard walked over to the door. Liam and Charlie were shoved in.

‘Art,’ Liam said, on the surface looked perfectly unconcerned, but Art could see he was internally cataloguing the number of men, the availability of weapons and the number of possible escape routes.’

‘I only got one guard,’ Art said, ‘how come you got five.’

‘Three of them are for Liam and two for me,’ Charlie said, ‘they seemed to think we might put up a fight. Good thing I never do any kind of violence for free.’

‘Well, it just isn’t fair,’ Art said, ‘I’m the one who pulled the magic sword out of the magic stone, I think I deserve at least as many guards as you, Charlie.’ She waved the sword, ‘and they didn’t event take my magic sword.’

Charlie shook his head, ‘slack,’ he said, ‘irresponsible. Simply tragic. Can’t even take people prisoner right these days, what is the world coming to.’

‘Silence,’ the king roared, ‘you will do exactly as I say, or I will have bits chopped of your friends until you do as you are commanded.’ His voice softened, ‘now,’ he said, holding out his hands, ‘be a good girl and give me the sword.’

Charlie sucked in a breath and muttered in a voice which was both horrified and filled with glee, ‘ohnohe’sgoingtogetitnow’. Liam shook his head, ‘oh dear,’ he said.

Art smiled widely, showing all her teeth. She stepped forward and placed the sword very carefully in his outstretched hands. His eyes lit up with triumph. As he took it, Art pulled something from her sleeve. 

Later on, a lot of people, mainly the would-be-heroes, agreed it wasn’t a very heroic thing to do. Heroes were supposed to challenge kings to a fight for their crown in the public square where everyone could see, they didn’t wait until the king’s hands were full and then slip a dagger up under their ribs in a secluded council chamber.

Art returned her knife to the arm-sheath and bent down to pick up the crown. ‘I’m guessing,’ she said the room in general, ‘that the king probably had quite a few enemies,’ the guards looked at each other in confusion, unsure of what to do. Art continued, ‘probably, there are people right here at court who would just love to get their hands on this crown,’ she paused to make sure it had all sunk in, ‘and I’d be willing to wager that those people would probably give the person who brought them the crown a substantial financial reward. They might even be so happy, they’ll overlook the fact that not a single person in this roomed bothered to check me for obvious weapons.’ She pulled her arm back and tossed the crown towards the other side of the room. It bounced off the wall and hit the ground with a thunk. The guards looked at her, looked at each other, and then as one rushed for the crown.

On the way out Charlie stole the still gurgling king’s sword. He just couldn’t help himself.

‘I hope you’re not planning on actually using that,’ Art said.

‘Probably worth quite a bit,’ Liam said, ‘maybe even a king’s ransom.’

‘Shut up,’ Art said, but she was smiling properly this time.

Art kept the sword, and it served her well, but she never went back. In fact, for the rest of her life she made a point of avoiding the entire district. If there were four things Art hated in this world, they were mosquitos, her full name, heroes and the idea that people might try to make her rule them.

Despite her best efforts to sink into anonymity, the legends continued long after her death. They even erected a disgustingly ostentatious statute of her pulling the sword out of the stone in the middle of the town. She was the chosen one, they said, the child of prophecy. She was beautiful and gracious, and of noble blood of course. She had freed them from the rule of a tyrannical king (never mind that the next one had been just as bad). And one day, at the hour of greatest need, Artemisia the One True King would return, sword raised high, a battle cry on her lips, to save them all.

But, Art was nobody’s hero.

[rickthaniel]

Avatar Aang, Feminist Icon?

“Who’s your favorite character?” I hear that question come up a lot over Avatar: The Last Airbender, a show particularly near and dear to me. Iroh and Toph get tossed around a lot. Zuko is very popular. Sokka has his fans. But something I’ve noticed? Aang very rarely gets the pick. When he comes up, it’s usually in that “Oh, and also…” kind of way. Which is strange, I think, considering he’s the main character, the titular airbender, of the entire show.

I never really thought much about it until a couple weeks ago when I finished my annual re-watch of the series and found myself, for the first time, specifically focused on Aang’s arc. Somehow, I never really paid that much attention to him before. I mean sure, he’s front and center in most episodes, fighting or practicing or learning big spiritual secrets, and yet, he always feels a little overshadowed. Katara takes care of the group. Sokka makes the plans. Zuko has the big, heroic Joseph Campbell journey. Aang…goofs around. He listens and follows and plays with Momo. And yes, at the end his story gets bigger and louder, but even then I feel like a lot of it dodges the spotlight. And here’s why:

Avatar casts the least traditionally-masculine hero you could possibly write as the star of a fantasy war story. Because of that, we don’t see Aang naturally for everything he is, so we look elsewhere.

To show what I mean, I want to talk about some of the show’s other characters, and I want to start with Zuko. Zuko is the hero we’re looking for. He’s tall and hot and complicated. He perseveres in the face of constant setbacks. He uses two swords and shoots fire out of his hands. He trains with a wise old man on ship decks and mountaintops. Occasionally he yells at the sky. He’s got the whole 180-degree moral turn beat for beat, right down to the scars and the sins-of-the-father confrontation scene. And if you were going into battle, some epic affair with battalions of armor-clad infantry, Zuko is the man you’d want leading the charge, Aragorn style. We love Zuko. Because Zuko does what he’s supposed to do.

Now let’s look at Katara. Katara doesn’t do what she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t care about your traditionally gender dynamics because she’s too busy fighting pirates and firebenders, planning military operations with the highest ranking generals in the Earth Kingdom, and dismantling the entire patriarchal structure of the Northern Water Tribe. Somewhere in her spare time she also manages to become one of the greatest waterbenders in the world, train the Avatar, defeat the princess of the Fire Nation in the middle of Sozin’s Comet and take care of the entire rest of the cast for an entire year living in tents and caves. Katara is a badass, and we love that.

So what about Aang? When we meet Aang, he is twelve years old. He is small and his voice hasn’t changed yet. His hobbies include dancing, baking and braiding necklaces with pink flowers. He loves animals. He doesn’t eat meat. He despises violence and spends nine tenths of every fight ducking and dodging. His only “weapon” is a blunt staff, used more for recreation than combat. Through the show, Aang receives most of his training from two young women – Katara and Toph – whom he gives absolute respect, even to the point of reverence. When he questions their instruction, it comes from a place of discomfort or anxiety, never superiority. He defers to women, young women, in matters of strategy and combat. Then he makes a joke at his own expense and goes off to feed his pet lemur.

Now there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this, and it’s the one that shielded Aang from the heroic limelight in my eyes for ten years. The reasoning goes like this: Aang is a child. He has no presumptuous authority complex, no masculinity anxiety, no self-consciousness about his preferred pastimes, because he’s twelve. He’s still the hero, but he’s the prepubescent hero, the hero who can’t lead the charge himself because he’s just not old enough. The problem is, that reasoning just doesn’t hold up when you look at him in the context of the rest of the show.

Let’s look at Azula. Aside from the Avatar himself, Zuko’s sister is arguably the strongest bender in the entire show. We could debate Toph and Ozai all day, but when you look at all Azula does, the evidence is pretty damning. Let’s make a list, shall we?

Azula completely mastered lightning, the highest level firebending technique, in her spare time on a boat, under the instruction of two old women who can’t even bend.

Azula led the drill assault on Ba Sing Sae, one of the most important Fire Nation operations of the entire war, and almost succeeded in conquering the whole Earth Kingdom.

Azula then bested the Kyoshi Warriors, one of the strongest non-bender fighting groups in the entire world, successfully infiltrated the Earth Kingdom in disguise, befriended its monarch, learned of the enemy’s most secret operation, emotionally manipulated her older brother, overthrew the captain of the secret police and did conquer the Earth Kingdom, something three Fire Lords, numerous technological monstrosities, and countless generals, including her uncle, failed to do in a century.

And she did this all when she was fourteen.

That last part is easy to forget. Azula seems so much her brother’s peer, we forget she’s the same age as Katara. And that means that when we first meet Azula, she’s only a year older than Aang is at the end of the series. So to dismiss Aang’s autonomy, maturity or capability because of his age is ridiculous, understanding that he and Azula could have been in the same preschool class.

We must then accept Aang for what he truly is: the hero of the story, the leader of the charge, who repeatedly displays restraint and meekness, not because of his age, not because of his upbringing, not because of some character flaw, but because he chooses too. We clamor for strong female characters, and for excellent reason. But nobody every calls for more weak male characters. Not weak in a negative sense, but weak in a sense that he listens when heroes talk. He negotiates when heroes fight. And when heroes are sharpening their blades, planning their strategies and stringing along their hetero love interests, Aang is making jewelry, feeding Appa, and wearing that flower crown he got from a travelling band of hippies. If all Aang’s hobbies and habits were transposed onto Toph or Katara, we’d see it as a weakening of their characters. But with Aang it’s cute, because he’s a child. Only it isn’t, because he’s not.

Even in his relationship with Katara, a landmark piece of any traditional protagonist’s identity, Aang defies expectations. From the moment he wakes up in episode one, he is infatuated with the young woman who would become his oldest teacher and closest friend. Throughout season one we see many examples of his puppy love expressing itself, usually to no avail. But there’s one episode in particular that I always thought a little odd, and that’s Jet.

In Jet, Katara has an infatuation of her own. The titular vigilante outlaw sweeps her off her feet, literally, with his stunning hair, his masterful swordsmanship and his apparent selflessness. You’d think this would elicit some kind of jealousy from Aang. There’s no way he’s ignorant of what’s happening, as Sokka sarcastically refers to Jet as Katara’s boyfriend directly in Aang’s presence, and she doesn’t even dispute it. But even then, we never see any kind of rivalry manifest in Aang. Rather, he seems in full support of it. He repeatedly praises Jet, impressed by his leadership and carefree attitude. Despite his overwhelming affection for Katara, he evaluates both her and Jet on their own merits as people. There is no sense of ownership or macho competition.

Contrast this with Zuko’s reaction to a similar scenario in season three’s The Beach. Zuko goes to a party with his girlfriend, and at that party he sees her talking to another guy. His reaction? Throwing the challenger into the wall, shattering a vase, yelling at Mai, and storming out. This may seem a little extreme, but it’s also what we’d expect to an extent. Zuko is being challenged. He feels threatened in his station as a man, and he responds physically, asserting his strength and dominance as best he can.

I could go on and on. I could talk about how the first time Aang trains with a dedicated waterbending master, he tries to quit because of sexist double standards, only changing his mind after Katara’s urging. I could talk about how Aang is cast as a woman in the Fire Nation’s propaganda theatre piece bashing him and his friends. Because in a patriarchal society, the worst thing a man can be is feminine. I could talk about the only times Aang causes any kind of real destruction in the Avatar state, it’s not even him, since he doesn’t gain control of the skill until the show’s closing moments. Every time he is powerless in his own power and guilt-ridden right after, until the very end when he finally gains control, and what does he do with all that potential? He raises the rivers, and puts the fires out.

Aang isn’t what he’s supposed to be. He rejects every masculine expectation placed on his role, and in doing so he dodges center stage of his own show. It’s shocking to think about how many times I just forgot about Aang. Even at the end, when his voice has dropped and his abs have filled in, we miss it. Zuko’s coronation comes and we cheer with the crowd, psyched to see our hero crowned. Then the Fire Lord shakes his head, gestures behind him and declares “the real hero is the Avatar.” It’s like he’s talking to us. “Don’t you get it?” he asks. “Did you miss it? This is his story. But you forgot that. Because he was small. And silly. And he hated fighting. And he loved to dance. Look at him,” Zuko seems to say. “He’s your hero. Avatar Aang, defier of gender norms, champion of self-identity, feminist icon.”