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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

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You said in another post you don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis (aka Death Eaters 1.0) were all that plausible. Why is that?

Oof, this is a larger ask than I think you intend that gets into a lot of controversial things. Though, I suppose that’s what this blog has become.

Remember when I just talked about my weird fanfiction? Remember those days? I remember those days.

I guess to start out we need to go at a high level and acknowledge a few things.

For all we know about Tom Riddle’s life we know very little that came from himself. Most of what we know came to us via The Halfblood Prince, in Dumbledore’s lessons to Harry.

Think what you will about Dumbledore, benign or evil, but we can all acknowledge that the man had a clear goal and agenda in Halfblood Prince. Dumbledore was facing his imminent death, suddenly he no longer was looking at years but a few months to accomplish everything he needed to. He knows Harry is a horcrux, knows he himself no longer has time to hunt down Tom’s horcruxes himself, and instead must leave all his work to Severus and, partly, to Harry Potter.

Specifically, he has to groom Harry for suicide.

By the time Severus relays the truth to Harry (never mind that this very nearly didn’t happen in canon and what would Dumbledore do then) Harry must be prepared to sacrifice his own life to stop Voldemort. That, or Severus will have to murder the shit out of him, and that was probably plan B but Dumbledore would prefer it if Harry went along willingly so that the whole thing’s a little less shady. Dumbledore’s not murdering children if the children murder themselves!

This means, in part, convincing Harry that Voldemort is such a monstrous evil that his presence on this earth cannot be tolerated. Voldemort cannot be allowed to survive, even if Harry’s death does not guarantee Voldemort’s destruction, Harry must do it because Voldemort is that bad. There must be no hope, no recourse, and the only action Harry can take is martyrdom.

And so, that is essentially what Dumbledore does.

He gives Harry a series of lessons, hand selecting memories of Tom Riddle’s past (often shockingly innocuous), and then narrates them to tell Harry exactly why Tom Riddle is so evil today. The flimsy excuse of Harry wheedling information out of Slughorn is nice, but not necessary, as Dumbledore has no reason to believe this memory contains information he himself doesn’t already know (indeed, that Tom actually did make six horcruxes as he told Slughorn is a very strange coincidence as we rarely end up doing what we thought or being where we thought we would when we were sixteen).

Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle was born evil by his very conception, is doomed to be a lowly miserable creature, and that murdering him is effectively putting him out of his misery.

Right, how does this relate to this post?

Well, neverminding what JKR says outside of canon, we learn about the Knights of Walpurgis/Tom’s schoolboy syncophants from Dumbledore. Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, while a highly respected and charming student was Evil McEvil who had junior cultists galore. So, you see Harry, the man must die (ergo you must kill yourself).

However, this is frankly ridiculous and not in any way believable.

First, the Hogwarts era when Tom’s in school.

Personally, I believe Tom was regarded 100% as muggleborn. Tom went into Hogwarts with the last name Riddle coming from the muggle world. When he gets sorted into Slytherin he can point to know family members at all (and even if he could would, at best, be considered a low class halfblood). Tom doesn’t know the significance of parseltongue and likely tells no one (I’ll get into this in a few paragraphs). Tom may insist that he could be a halfblood, he knows nothing of his father, but given his origins he himself probably believes he’s muggleborn until he stumbles across the hereditary nature of parseltongue.

Regardless, Tom is impoverished, comes from lower class muggle London, has the last name Riddle, no relatives to vouch for him, and you want me to think that the purebloods sign up to be his cult members?

Even though Tom is terrifyingly talented and brilliant, he will be fighting for respect every inch of the way. At best, I see the Slytherin’s tolerating his presence. Riddle’s tolerable, for a muggleborn, it’s a shame that he has such dirty blood but they’ll admit he’s a talented sort.

However, as soon as he’s out of Hogwarts they’ll drop him like it’s hot.

This is evidenced by a few things. Upon graduation, Tom Riddle struggles to secure employment. He tries for the Defense position but is unvested and a recent graduate, and so is rejected (and when he later tries again Dumbledore laughs in his place and says, “Bitch please, I will never hire you, I just accepted your application so I could spend this interview laughing in your face!”) He does not enter the ministry, which would likely have been far more beneficial to getting him a leg up in society.

No, Tom instead secures employment as a clerk and purchaser at Borgin and Burke’s the wizarding world’s shadiest pawn shop equivalent where he spends his time miserably wooing older women so they’ll sell him their fine goods. Dumbledore tries to convince us this was Tom’s plan, that he somehow knew about the locket beforehand, but this is bullshit. How the hell would Tom know that the heirloom undoubtedly locked away under safe and key had been sold to Borgin and Burkes? And even if he did, why would Tom take up this miserable position doing nothing he wanted to do?

Whatever minions Tom is supposed to have, whatever friends, they dropped him completely, pretended they never knew him, and did nothing to secure Tom’s future.

Now, back to the parseltongue bit since I made a promise. I believe Tom told no one. Had Tom told the Slytherins he was the Heir of Slytherin, this would have spread like wild fire not only across the house but the school. All the staff would remember Tom as Tom Slytherin, Tom would likely have changed his name, and frankly Tom probably would have been able to get into the ministry with a name like that. Tom Riddle’s life would have looked very different.

More, had the Chamber of Secrets episode happened in a world where Tom proves his heritage, he would have immediately been caught. Someone in Slytherin, even if only a few dormmates knew, would have narked on him. Someone would have been jealous, scared, etc. and would have turned him easily over to the authorities. A secret like that simply cannot be kept, it would spread, and there would be no needing to frame Hagrid and none of Tom getting off.

More, I always got the feeling very few knew that Voldemort had once been Tom Riddle. First, it would make recruiting very difficult. Voldemort is the mysterious, beautiful, heir of Slytherin who has come back from abroad to save their country. Tom Riddle is a dirt poor mudblood who comes from decades of incest and squalor.

Given the wizarding world at large does not know who Tom Riddle is (proved by The Chamber of Secrets) I would suspect the vast majority of Death Eaters and Order members didn’t either. Dumbledore was the one who pieced it together thanks, in part, to a ten-year-old Tom Riddle confessing his parseltongue abilities.

If Tom Riddle had told most people he was a parseltongue, far more would have made the connection, it would be common knowledge. Which means, of course, Tom Riddle has no ability to prove his heritage and is thus muggleborn swine.

More, I think Tom wouldn’t want Tom Riddle to be associated with Voldemort. When he becomes Voldemort, he will transcend his lackluster origins and become far more than an ordinary, mortal, man. He will leave the name Riddle behind and no one will remember that boy. He will eclipse his past.

Not to mention, that if Tom gave them the excuse of his heritage, it means giving himself the easy way out in Hogwarts. They won’t be forced to acknowledge him, acknowledge that he’s better than them despite his roots, but instead given the easy excuse of “oh, it’s because he’s the heir of Slytherin, duh”. And I think Tom would loathe the idea of that.

Tom wanting to eradicate the memory of Tom Riddle is especially why I think Voldemort came out of nowhere in the 70′s.

Tom doesn’t want to be recognized as Tom, he wants to be mysterious and originless, to give the purebloods everything they want to believe in. If it’s people he went to school with, they’ll recognize him, he’ll be just an ordinary mortal to them. If it’s their young, stupid, children well then he has a real chance.

Voldemort is a figure of myth, something that appears to come out of legend itself, the savior of his country.

He cannot have origin let alone Tom Riddle’s.

Not to mention the idea that multiple people waited on Tom Riddle for generations, even for decades where we know he went abroad and travelled the world, is utterly ridiculous. Why would they ever do this? What do they even gain from this? And why would it take so long to take over this ridiculously incompetent country THAT ALL OF TOM’S RECRUITS ARE PRACTICALLY SET TO CONTROL (the beauty of the Death Eaters is that they form a good chunk of the Wizengamot, and in using them, Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time).

If Tom Riddle is so terrible, so horrifyingly competent, then it can’t have taken him fifty years of constant work to topple the country.

So, yeah, there were no Death Eaters 1.0.

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort #the death eaters #the knights of walpurgis

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

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guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

#this is only like half of it #but at least you can get like a few answers #yanno fuck it #bataranswers #ask #asks #anon

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thedailyvio · 3 years

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Every now and then I feel bad for giving 0 context for anything, so gonna quickly summarize my story stuff under the cut

The Traveler’s Found (TTF)

Skye, Gill, Marth, Kydin, Leo, Kira, Krieg, Heiwa, Narcissa, Sebastian, Vadim, Bahemek, Xenon, etc

TTF is hard to summarize because it has 10 story arcs and they all lead into the other, but the plot begins with ‘A wizard terrorist attacks the king of Hou’lu sending two girls on a quest to stop him’ which sounds so simple doesn’t it -sobs-

Very adventure, political intrigue, slice of life elements

They basically travel all over the world, and I’ll quickly summarize what that’s like by listing each countries major influences

Hou’lu: Italian Renaissance, China

Sunobor: Medieval Germany, Japan, Inuit

Haldon: Folk Mexican, Folk Italian

Lavynna; Byzantine, some inspo from India to structure of things?

Gehinna: Ancient Hebrew

Parappa: Egypt-Germany

North Desert: Russia-Arabic

Harpies (more a tribe): Maasai

TTF of them all gets the most complicated but very incrementally, so it’s the hardest to express much on. But they get a cool hard magic system based on 10 elements so

Also TTF dragons are sentient, intelligent, and morally complex

—

The Miyoré Schism

A prequel to ttf by about 900 years

Faolan, Mien, Enlai, whatever I name the girl, Jiao

The plot here is a bit simpler

What happens when the one who pulls the blade only those Chosen by God can touch is among the race of people thought to be destined to serve?

This focuses largely on the Sha’li of East Hou’lu. As a race they have very distinct white hair, pale skin, and red eyes. At this time in history, monster taming was very common as well, so most the characters have a family or personal monster. Sha’li also have an ability to become “invisible” but in actuality they are lowering their ‘presence’ or ‘noticibility’ to all non-Sha’li

This story draws largely from Tibet for its aesthetics

—

Kingdoms

Ariella, James, Charles, Kiba

I have uprooted a lot about this story and not yet relayed it, but so far

A girl who wanted to become a soldier but was refused strikes out on adventure to do what she can for her country on her own- but to her chagrin gets a tag along

This story likely will have a soft magic system, and is definitely still based on Victorian and Japanese aesthetics. It’s actually a specific era of Japanese history but I can’t remember which. Possibly 16th c?

Despite this, it’s a low tech world.

Most fantasy type creatures/races do show up in Kingdoms, unlike my other stories

Dragons exist in Kingdoms but are universally evil and nobody has ever killed one

—

Magic and Cannons (MnC)

A wip name still

Cusick, Agathe, Romana, Kordell, Levi, Maureen, Ames, Sung-jin

I’m still figuring put the plot to this honestly, but the first bit is definitely

‘A narcissistic man is captured as a PoW and must find a way to escape’

There’s just three countries of any importance to this world, and it’s much less whimsical in nature than the others, being closer to reality in some ways, and having a lot more tech. Though it vibes as subtly cartoony in how characters have slightly exaggerated aspects to their personalities and behaviors.

Delemar is the country Cusick is from and is based on Wild West in many ways, they’re a very independent people which can be good and bad, they also give no hecks about safety and are pretty wild in general

Choson is where Romana is from and they are much more interested in normalcy and order, which can be both good and bad. They prefer reptiles and fish as pets to mammals actually, which feels important to mention. If you know much about history, I suppose it’s clear they draw a lot from Korea for aesthetics.

Choson is also a very mixed population in terms of race, which Delemar is very much not.

Kievan is where Agathe hails from and is based on Russia. In each case I tried sticking to 1850s-1900s ish for my influences of these countries, though socially they are very diff.

Kievan has an affinity for wine and is the only country that appreciates using electricity for power. They have harsh winters, especially compared to the other two countries which tend to be more tropical in climates. Kievan is less developed so far, but they tend towards legalism there, and while that can be bad, they are also the one not involved in a pointless war, so

MnC is what I call glasspunk, Delemar and Choson rely on ‘reactions’ for their energy sources, which I can only explain as ‘you know how if you mix two volatile liquids, they could explode? They harness the energy from such things’

This is possible because their magic system is a type of alchemy which has allowed them a lot of reactions not available to us, and with this they’ve been able to get treated glass which is nearly indestructible, great for containing anything they need.

Magic is still something within the individual, but in MnC the extent of what it does is change the properties of whatever you’re touching with your hands. If you specialize in using this and inventing things based off of things with changed properties, you’re called a mage.

MnC has a lot of strange tech this way, including trains, vehicles, customizeable guns, staves that through weird tech stuff can have sort of elemental effects, etc.

Electricity is not compatible with reactions btw, because it can cause them to explode outside of when they’re meant to, kinda like smoking by a bunch of canisters of gasoline, it might be a lil risky. So societies that use reactions do not use electricity and have things in place to get rid of it, and societies that use electricity don’t use reactions. Combining them can get cool tech, but is inherently risky.

oh whoops I went off there, huh. Oh well it’s not seen as often as the other types of societies/magics I listed so

Dragons in MnC are animals (technically wyverns?) and have been domesticated to be work animals. No fire breath but they do have a strong venom, I think a neurotoxin type?? And the insides of their mouths are orange 👀 oh and the domesticated ones are reflective like mirrors ish

—

Children of the Little Mine (CotLM)

Geno

This is the only one I plan to make a novel, because it’s set in 1950′s-1960′s New York City and I don’t care about those aesthetics at all

I don’t have it planned out very far for plot, but basically a gremlin thief boy of 17 has a strange ability to manipulate how gravity effects him, and seemingly nobody else in the world has this. But one day during a break and entering situation, Geno finds another boy with an ability, and from there they decide to try sticking together a bit to figure out why, and maybe put together a heist against a mafia boss in the mean time (two stealy boys)

This is very close to being historical fiction aside from abilities, which are /extremely/ rare in this world. I’m very inspired by Artemis Fowl and A Separate Peace for tone, and plan to have middleschool boys as my target audience. Though I love fantasy and such, this one’s still a bit close to my heart anyways

Anyways literally nobody asked for this I just do this to myself. I seriously wanna start practicing comic making skills, but I can’t do that too much for a daily thing when I can usually put in an hour at best. I’m trying to find a sweet spot for it all, but it may yet be awhile before I can post literally anything that sheds light on who the heck any of the chars I post are.

I want to though, and I’ve been running this blog for years now, so best to assume it’ll get there someday. I have still written a lot and planned out things, so progress still happens behind the scenes. Aside from the last few months but that’s not uncommon for this time of year. If you actually read this, thanks euchjsd I don’t think many will, but having it here makes me feel a bit better

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theaspiringwanderess · 3 years

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The West Coast Trail; A Vancouver Island Adventure Of A Lifetime

The West Coast Trail is one of the most, if not the most, iconic Canadian west coast adventure a hiker could ask for. It is a 75km test of both physical and mental endurance in one of the most stunning environmental settings you have ever seen. Not everyone that sets out for this great journey completes it, but those that do have a tale to tell for a lifetime and a forever bond with those they meet along the way.

Having completed this epic trail twice now, my approach is to blend a little bit of old and new into a (hopefully) wondrous tail that offers context, wisdom and insight to the journey, while describing the magical things you will experience and the challenges you will face. I’ve also prepared additional posts for your reading pleasure on Packing: Food/Clothes/Essentials and Booking: Reservations/Transport. So please, grab a hot cup of tea, throw on those comfy pjs and sit back and enjoy the read.

Handy References and Information Material

Every great hike starts with research, especially this one! If you haven't heard of it yet, look up the famed book Blisters and Bliss: A Trekker's Guide to the West Coast Trail by David Foster and Wayne Aitken. This awesomely 80′s comic styled guide adds a little light-hearted humour to a highly detailed account of the WCT which is revised roughly every couple years. It offers both trekking options (north to south AND south to north!) and gives you all the step by step nitty gritty deets in between including history, objects of interest, geological features and safety tips! I suggest taking it with you and read about the section ahead each night. Also, opt to keep it in a safe pack pocket, don’t put it in a plastic bag (I did this my first time and sadly lost my copy to the inescapable moisture and mold).

Check out the West Coast Trail Facebook Page! This page is not manned by Parks Canada. However, it is a great place to meet other hikers, find someone looking to ride share, ask questions and for advice, learn about recent developments and important information (washed out bridges, danger sections, wildlife sightings or concerns... even hear about annoyed hikers picking up others garbage...not kidding lol).

Oh! And there is also a Women’s West Coast Trail Page!

Parks Canada Website. Duh, right?! But you may not realize that Parks Canada has some handy info regarding what to pack (and what not to!), emergency items, wildlife warnings, necessary fees, maps, tide tables, tips and more to make your hike a happy one. Check out the Planning For WCT page here.

You'll also find online a plethora of websites, blogs and articles dedicated to WCT info, tips, advice, and more. I encourage you to read a few personal accounts to get a real life feel of what others experience. Here are some of my favourites (don’t let the names scare you!), plus a very cool and scholarly article from UofBC on the effects of colonial-style tourism in the area and on the local indigenous tribes written in 2020. Fascinating read.

Hike The WCT (website)

Walking the wild coast : territory, belonging, and tourism on the West Coast Trail (UofBC Open Collection)

Lost On The West Coast Trail

How Not To Die On The West Coast Trail

The Facts

The West Coast Trail is 75 km long. That's on the map and, best as I can figure, relatively "as the crow flies". It does not account for the extra steps, the ladders, the climbing, the crawling, the descending, etc, you get the picture. Both times I've gone my fitbit has read almost double or more the distance in 'real ground covered'. For example, when they say its 5km from the Gordon River Trail Head to Thrasher Cove, my fitbit in both cases recorded over 12 km when all was said and done. When they tell you it takes on average 5-6 hours to do that stretch, and you're only covering 1km or less an hour, this is why. You will chuckle in the orientation, as many have, and think, "ya, if you're a SNAIL!", but you will soon realize it’s about the terrain and that you're essentially doing double or more the physical effort to cross it. The same is true for nearly all the trail, even the "easy parts".

Safety First - the majority of accidents and injuries occur in the first 13 kms on the south side of the trail, from Gordon River at km 75, to Camper Bay at km 62. The trail accommodates just over 7500 people a year. Of that, Parks Canada evacuates roughly 80-100 injured persons annually and Nitinaht villagers have claimed to ferry out 100-200 additional hikers off the trail as well, due to injury, misery, etc. It won’t be a bear or cougar that takes you out, it’ll be the wilderness itself. A fall from a wet log or slimy stone is the most common culprit, and it may not even be the fall itself, but what you land on. Sharp rocks, jabbing sticks, etc all cause serious injury. And it always happens when you're TIRED. Don't push yourself. Take a break, have a snack, don't go farther in a day than your body can handle. Better to be a day late than waiting 24 hrs in the bush with no morphine and a broken leg for a boat ride that surely will be agonizing. Just sayin' here...

The WCT historically was maintained for shipwrecked mariners. Many have lost their lives along this trail. I don’t understand how it doesn’t have its own ghost story yet! It has an amazing history with lots of ship wreckage to see along the way if you time the tides right.

Lastly, the temperate rainforest that engulfs the WCT is not only stunning but globally very rare, encompassing less than 1% of ecosystems across the earth. Here you will see plants, trees and animals that may not exist anywhere else on our planet. The Sitka Spruce for example is among not only the tallest trees in the world, but also the oldest, some 700-1000 years old. This means they have seen North America as it was before European Settlers touched it. They are revered by many and highly sought after by loggers, which often leads to conflicts. Many extremely unique animals also reside in the WCT, like the islands' black bears which are actually larger than mainland black bears with massive skulls and only one unique colour phase. The island is also home to cougars, Victoria's famous mini-deer and sea-wolves, the only wolves in the world that have adapted to life on a coastline, they call the Pacific Coast home. With a completely unique diet of seafood they are genetically different from mainland wolves and have also been known to swim in the ocean for many kilometers.

My West Coast Trail Story

Now, before we begin, I'll preface this by saying, don't mistake me for a pro; I am simply someone who has made it off the WCT twice [relatively] safely and lived to share my tale. If you are looking for expert advice I'd say check out the Parks Canada website or the Blisters and Bliss book. But if you are looking for a heartwarming and informative, real life account of the experience, you've come to a great place.

I am now amongst a lucky few that have had the enormous privilege to have hiked the West Coast Trail not only once, but twice in my lifetime thus far. I say thus far because this trail has such a special place in my heart I expect at some point I will likely attempt it again. It changed my life and has had an everlasting impact on the lives of those around me. I learned a lot about myself and even more about those closest to me. What I am capable of, the importance of preparation and planning, the bonds you create with people you meet along the way and the love of those that support you going and take care of things while you're gone. I simply couldn’t have done this without the support of my amazing husband, friends, parents and sister and my wonderful sister in law whom we stayed with this time. But most importantly I missed the encouragement and support of my mother-in-law who lived on the island and sadly has passed since my first trip. She and her friends played such an instrumental role in my first journey with my sister, buying us foods, housing us, driving us, and just overall being so excited to see us off, I truly missed her this time but I know she was there with me in spirit.

In this way the West Coast Trail is a life-shaping experience like no other. You will learn much about yourself, be in awe and hopefully inspired by the incredible natural world around you and you will meet fellow Canadians and global trotters and, in turn, become a part of their WCT story. Let me be amongst the first to congratulate you on this epic endeavor and wish you the happiest, and safest, of journeys and hopefully I can send you off a bit more well prepared for the adventure.

First Timers VS Second Timers

My experience as a first time WCT hiker was extremely different from my second expedition in every way possible.

The first time I hiked the WCT I went with my youngest sister Jenna. We had both hiked and camped before but this was a new experience and everything was raw, a bit scary, amazing and beautiful all at once. I think it just hit us both like a ton of bricks when we landed at the base of that first ladder across the Gordon River. Although Sharon had talked to me for months, mentally preparing me for the hike, when Jenna and I both looked up at the rest of our start group scaling that first beast, looming up from the small beach landing, I know we both had the exact same thought, like, "oh shit, this is for real...".

Why the WCT? Sharon, my good friend and co-worker, had previously attempted it before turning me onto it. Due to an unfortunate incident with her hiking companion, they had to turn in the towel. She has since rocked it twice more and was an absolute wealth of information, support and the wisdom that only an experienced female hiker, mom and athlete can be. Much of what I am sharing with you today began with her. She continues to inspire me every day with her ferocity and determination and boundless want for adventure.

At the time of my first hike in 2016, my mother-in-law lived on Vancouver Island and she and her best friend Jill had kindly arranged for us to stay at another friend's cottage just outside Port Alberni. The friend and her husband fed us well and the beauty of the setting was unimaginable. But the anticipation of what lay ahead weighed heavily on both Jenna and I and neither of us barely slept a wink. The next morning we had our last hot shower and flush toilet experience for the next 7 days and the 4 of us set out for the Gordon River Trail Head.

We piled into Jill’s car the following morning. The ride was long, on gravel switch back logging roads, but the supportive company made the nervous anticipation bearable. I feel like I did not appreciate the ride as much as I should have at the time, but a few 5 am bus rides (and much experience) later, I certainly cherish the thought my mother-in-law and Jill had put into making the beginning special for us both.

Since then, I've booked my island hike transports with the West Coast Trail Express bus. The folks there are super helpful and the experience has always been a good one. In 2018, a WCT facebook group was created which has made connecting with others looking for ride shares and doing the trail much easier AND more informative! You can read about this page and other research options at the top of this post if you missed them ;)

When 2016 saw Jenna and I land at Gordon River's Information Station, I was greeted with an amazing surprise... Sharon and Jackie (another friend) had pre-purchased for me a WCT t-shirt. I cried, there were no words. When 2021 saw Krista and I land at Gordon River's Information Station, I was greeted with a sense of the familiarity of the adventure and vicariously enjoyed the wonder of someone else now experiencing the trail for the first time... READY?!.. and INHALE... can you smell it..? the Adventure?! It's like greeting an old friend again, for the first time.

It's Like Those Choose Your Own Adventure Books, Where You Pick Your Ending...

Remember those..? Maybe..? When Starting the WCT, you can plan to start at either entry point, Gordon River to the south or Pacheena Bay to the north, or now even halfway at Nitinaht. There are advantages to all, so it just depends what is most appealing to you. Most people do the trail within a 6-8 day time frame. This gives a good balance of time vs pack weight. I always try to plan for an extra emergency day, just in case. Things happen here... Long stays requires more provisions and a heavier pack. Shorter stays (in my personal opinion) are extremely challenging, unless you have done the trail before, are very skilled in lightweight packing and are an expert hiker. I still wouldn't recommend it. Plus, if you're going that fast, you're rushing by so much, what's the point? If you've paid and taken the time to be here, enjoy it! That being said, when Jenna and I did the trail we were treated to watching marathoner and athlete Jen Segger run it in one day. ONE DAY. She currently holds the women's record for WCT completion at 13 hrs 44mins (as posted here on her page under 2016). Of course she had no pack and support runners with her and a camera crew. But as she ran by us I think both our jaws dropped. It was like watching Super Woman run by you and you were just lucky if her sweat spayed you as she passed by.

When you start out, keep in mind your pack is at it's heaviest. Starting at Pacheena Bay entry point means you'll be hiking the easiest parts of the trail first. You'll make excellent time here and cover the most distance over the shortest number of days. Although all areas of the trail offer exquisite and unique beauty, in my opinion the north end is the most magical. Maybe because by the time I reach it Im half delirious and most certainly exhausted so the easier hike is a much welcome break. Both times I've hiked the WCT I have opted to start at the southern trail head point known as Gordon River.

Starting at Gordon River means that you get through the most difficult terrain right at the beginning, when you're freshest, well rested and eager to set out. You also have the added benefit of anticipating the terrain getting easier (rather than harder). To me, this is the most logical approach and why I prefer this route and honestly, there is just something that seems slightly disillusioning about expecting something to get harder along the way. When Jenna and I first made it up that initial ladder we came across several groups finishing their hike. One in particular stuck out, a group of three female friends. We passed the first two who were happy and chatting and weirdly gave us a (mild) warning to disregard their companion, who was somewhere behind them. Ok... sure, we thought. Then along came the third girl... muttering, swearing under her breath, we contemplated what she might do to her companions if she caught up to them and we joked about how that likely was the end of that friendship. 2016 was a much busier year, pre-covid and all, and we met so many more people, Canadians, Germans, Chinese and Auzzies!

2021 though is the year of the Canadians! If you happen to head out on the WCT this year, although you will still experience a wide range of people (Canada is an extraordinarily diverse nation!), rest assured most currently reside within Canada. Hello Homies! It was, however, a much more muted WCT experience than my past one. Although the Parks staff assured me they have had lots of people come through (I asked!), and the online bookings are sold out, it seemed so much quieter day to day. At the time Krista and I arrived, Parks staff were still only doing outdoor basic debriefing, prior to which we were expected to watch an online information video covering the basics. This was in stark contrast to the very in depth orientation Jenna and I had to attend back in 2016.

Fellow Canadians, Tsk Tsk...

The biggest difference I noticed that could be as a result of the minimized debrief is the amount of garbage. There is NO garbage removal on the trail. Parks staff DO NOT haul garbage out (its a remote wilderness, do you really expect garbage men??). The WCT is accessible by foot (as in, you hike in... for 75 km) OR by boat, the latter being weather and safety dependant in extreme occasions (ie emergency evacuation). At each campsite we stayed, hikers THIS year (the trail was closed 2020) have left copious amounts of garbage. It’s in the bear bins, on the trail, the beach, in the outhouses... it’s EVERYWHERE. The worst by far was Camper Bay with stinking tuna cans and bags in every bear bin and Cribbs Creek, where the garbage pile extended to a massive bottle collection BEHIND the bear bin.

Why do sites have bear bins in the first place? Because human food and waste smells amazing to BEARS! So we lock it away to keep it, and us, safe. This does not mean a bear can’t smell it, it just means they can’t access it. Now, what happens when food rots and gets stinkier...? Of course it's more enticing. This draws bears, and other animals, to the campsite, which puts your safety, and the safety of each camper, at risk. I have to give Krista major kuudos here because that girl dug in deep, cleaned someone else's mess at each site we stopped at and even hauled out other people's stinky gross trash. Please give her a round of applause for thinking about you because she deserves it. And as Canadians, seriously, we can do better right??

Da' Debrief

Apologies, now that’s out, let's get on. During our debrief we learned some important key points.

2021 has seen unprecedented amounts of animal sightings and encounters. Primarily bear and cougar. There has also been more daytime sightings of wolves, which is considered extremely rare. With the trail closed in 2020, lack of human presence has caused a larger wildlife presence. Be aware, practice safety, travel in groups. Groups are also being asked to accommodate single hikers to reduce risk.

There is a lot of maintenance to be done that wasn't able to be accomplished in 2020 due to the pandemic. Be prepared for washed out boardwalks, bridges and rotten boards. There is also fewer Parks staff to help with this upkeep. Luckily, local members of indigenous tribes, called the Trail Guardians, historically help in a huge way with this and you may even run into them on the trail! We saw their team arrive in their new boat leaving Walbran and at Pacheena we spoke to a Parks staff who's uncle is on the team. It's a small world here.

Following the debrief, the Parks staff escort you to the Gordon River ferry. The fellow here takes you across and plops you down on the small sandy beach, gathers up any hikers waiting for a ride back and heads off on his way. And there you are, left to stare at a huge ladder, really, the first of many.

up, Up, UP You Go!

In 2016 Jenna and I patiently waited at the end of the line to be the last two up the ladder and I tackled the climb with my 50lb pack in tow (phew!). In 2021 Krista and I were the only two standing on the beach, me revelling in my 'barely there' 38lb pack. The trail was our oyster!

The trek from Gordon River to Thrasher Cove is the most challenging and physically demanding on the trail. We left on the 11:30 ferry and finally walked into Thrashers Cove at 5pm - Yes, it DOES take that long. You actually don't see many ladders, a few here and there, but best believe you are still climbing! You scramble up rock faces, you squeeze past trees, you choose your footing extremely carefully and all the while up, up, UP you GO! Even over rocks and hard ground the trail is fairly well worn and easy to follow... most of the time. A short while in you come to the first bridge over the first creek. I have stopped here both times to fill up water bottles, but beware, the scramble back up is more difficult than it looks this year due to the fallen trees. Mountain Goat level scuttling expertise is advised! Much further along, not far from Thrashers, you'll eventually comes across the famed Donkey Engine! This year you will find it to be directly in your path, where as in 2016 I’m quite sure we looked down on it somehow from a higher elevation. Either way, it’s epic and makes for an amazing photo op! To think that thing was hauled by beast and hand up that hill still blows my mind.

Along the way we met a very nice gentleman named Wilson who had intended to hike the WCT with his son. Unfortunately, due to a graduation re-scheduling mishap his son was unable to come, but Wilson decided to soldier on. He was incredibly happy, thoughtful and polite and asked if we minded if he tagged along as we hiked. He regaled us with tails of his trails, immigration to Canada, his wife and family and much more; he was a fascinating fellow! With the wildlife warnings this year, Parks staff request that no one hike alone, if you can, allow a solo hiker to tag along so everyone can stay safe. We graciously obliged and enjoyed his company and great conversation for a couple more days until we parted ways at Nitinaht comfort camping.

Thrasher's Cove is an amazing, but small, campsite. I recall vividly in 2016 the trail down to the beach being extremely treacherous, with steep and slippery embankments and so many ladders! By comparison our 2021 descent seemed like a cake-walk. Here I was, boasting to Krista the challenge that lay before her, but when we got there it was literally a quick hop and skip down. She found anything I said after that to be hard to believe and was convinced I was totally embellishing. It really made me realize how MUCH the trail changes and what dynamic metamorphosis must have occurred in 6 years! I also realized how hard Trail Guardians and Parks staff must work to maintain all this constantly worn out infrastructure. It must a BEAST. Be warned, if you arrive to Thrashers too late in the day it will be tough finding a spot. If this happens to you, check out the south side of the beach, sometimes there's a bit more space there. Ironically, I have set up my tent in the exact same spot both times, right in front of the tiny triangle cave around the rock wall on the south side of the beach. I have claimed this spot now.

Knock, Knock, It's The Ocean!

This is also where knowing how to read your tide tables is extremely important. While camping on the beach you must pitch your tent above the high tide line. The high tide line is where you can see the sand was last wet on the beach. It's not where the water is when you arrive. Look for the wet point on the sand and keep your tent a few good feet above that. When Jenna and I first arrived at Thrashers, I was confident in my tide table reading skills; being from Alberta, I took the time to learn how to read them in advance. But, during the orientation the Park staff had warned our group that our first night was due to be the highest high tide of the year - intimidating to a couple prairie girls! And, which is also a thing if you read up on the moon cycle! (Actually there is a lot of news this year on the effects of the moon's impending orbital wobble on tides, its a fascinating read if you're interested!). So, naturally a bit cautious and overly leery of the horror stories of campers waking up to soaked tents in the middle of the night, my poor sister was worried sick. Exhausted but too afraid to sleep, I promised her I'd stay up till high tide to make sure we were safe. She soon passed out and I settled in reading my book. But the surf was loud and near, a thundering, crashing rukus with each wave and about 2 hours in my sister jolted straight up in her sleeping bag, scaring the ba-geezus outta me crying out 'IS IT HERE?! IS THE OCEAN HERE YET?! ", big-eyed I just stared, then broke out laughing; I settled her back down, reassured her we were safe, now passed the time of concern, and wiggled down into my own sack to drift off. It's still an inside joke to this day and once in a while we chuckle to each other about the time the ocean came knocking.

2021 brought me its own surprise when at 4am I awoke to an unusual scratching noise against our tent next to my head. We had wrapped our rain covers around our [empty] backpacks and snugged them up against the tent to stay dry and save space. Apparently the local otter family found them fascinating and decided to check them out on their morning stroll. An alarm clock certainly fit for the WCT.

It's A Beach Walk, Not A Cake Walk

Leaving Thrasher's Cove you have two options! You can take the beach route if you time the tides carefully OR you can take the inland route. In 2016 Jenna and I sojourned the inland route. Although the inland hike was pretty, if I'd found the trek down to Thrashers tough, the trek back up would've been classed insane. Sharon’s favourite saying is, what goes down must go up. In 2021 Krista and I timed the tide, leaving at 7:30am, to take the beach route. Although we'd planned to avoid what turned out to not be a bad climb, I'd really wanted to see the famous sea caves! The sea caves themselves were nothing short of AMAZING. There is just no other word. I was so in awe that in my mind they seem to take up almost 3 days of our trip, not just half an hour on the second day.

Although we'd planned to aim for Cullite Creek Campground day 2, we hit a major snag. As we traipsed along, well after the sea caves, we came to a rocky sea shelf that rose high out of the water. As you look up, you might catch a glimpse of some buoys, which commonly mark the beach access to the trail and campgrounds. Thinking this was our access back onto the trail, as you must go inland from here to Campers, we headed up along the higher shelf. We passed an unusual 'Danger' sign. We looked around, but could not identify anything that seemed out of the ordinary for where we were. We kept on. We came to a similar sign on the rock, but again, failed to see what was obviously dangerous. Wasps? Bear den? Surge Channel? There was no fallen bridge, no down ladder. Everything seemed ok. We reached the buoys, and Krista lifted her leg to step over a small trickle of a water... That's when it happened.

Danger on the Trail...

Before she could even complete her step, both feet flew out from beneath her and her whole body, pack and all, smashed onto the rock shelf. She began rocketing like a she was on a pro waterslide down the embankment towards a 9 foot drop into the water pool below. I had the wherewithal to shout out 'grab a rock!', and in the 3 seconds that seemed like 3 hours, I had the presence of mind to ponder how I might explain this to her mother back at home and 4 year old son if things went sideways... but with a 38lb pack on myself and being a few feet behind, there was no way I could move fast enough to do anything but yell.

Luckily, mid-slide, she managed to grab a handhold just long enough to stop and get some footing. Crisis averted, but the damage was done. Wearing shorts, she was sporting some nasty road rash on her cheek and arm, but most of the damage was buffered by the hoodie she'd had tied around her waist. She was bruised, but she was lucky.

Feeling pretty roughed up, we opted to stay at Camper Bay instead and rolled in about 1pm where we washed and treated her ailing buttocks and gave her some much needed pain meds. Along came a few more groups and we felt a bit less sheepish learning 2 of them had also had the exact same experience. Pride slightly less wounded, we made some new friends for the chatter and laid back and chilled for the afternoon. On your parks provided trail map, you will see a small note in red pointing to BA 'B' (beach access B) that warns about a dangerous slope just past the surge channels after Owen Point. It's not kidding.

If you stay at Camper Bay, it's a lovely and large campsite with lots of room for everyone. However, it has a habit of getting very windy, like all the time, and the only time it's not is when the sun goes down. If you're early enough, grab one of the sheltered tent spots in the woods/taller grass along the creek side. It also has a rep for early morning rain and fog. Something about the geography here seems to create its own micro-environment. If you walk out along the beach at low tide and cross the creek to the north, you'll see some neat tidal pools and caves in the rock wall. In the one with the small pool of water you might see a single lonely fish with the pool all to himself. I hope one day the tide washes him in friend.

Reminiscing...

Ironically, day 2 in 2016 was also the day I had a mishap of my own. Tired and worn down, toddling after Jenna across a log bridge the width of my car, I misstepped. My feet were somehow gone and in a second I found myself sitting on my ass, straddling the log instead of walking on it. I peered down into the 6 foot drop below. Completely in disbelief I suddenly realized Jenna was yelling at me "Are you OK?!" ... Yes! I was! I was ok. Nothing was broken, hurt or otherwise. But it was a wake up call. If you are tired, take a break, don't push on or try to keep up with someone faster. Only hike as fast as your slowest hiker and be patient. Take a breath and remember, the goal is no one dies out here... hopefully.

Gone Are The Days Of Legendary Mud And Tilting Ladders That Make You Poop ... Just A Little

The few days that followed are a bit of a blur. There's so much to see and so little blog space to include it all! We left Campers Bay on a foggy, rain mist morning at about 10am. Since we had to take the inland trail there was no worry about racing the tide on this stretch. We chatted with the couple we met the night before (Mat and Lauren from Calgary!). Everyone was a bit tired that morning.

Although we saw some mud, with a historic heat wave just prior to our trip in 2021, the legendary mud pits that the WCT has typically been known for were non-existent. In 2016 Jenna and I spent most of our inland trail time figuring out how to cross mud-holes, watching where each other stepped and trying not to fall in up to our armpits (I kid you not). This time, there was no mud and if you disagree with me, go again after it rains. I dare you.

This is also the section where we saw the most ladders, most notably through Cullite Creek, which was sadly such a trickle there was no need for the cable car, we just rock hopped across (with ease). We saw some really cool art done along the trail by the Guardians in the new bridge and log cuttings, some even signed their names! Have you tried making a curve with a chainsaw? I was impressed.

This section also has a neat and unique stretch of boardwalk that goes through a fragile wetland. Sections of the boardwalk were out, it looks easy, don't let it fool you!

A brand-spank'in new suspension bridge calls Logan Creek home! In 2016 Jenna and I had to climb a harrowing series of crazy, half-tilted ladders to get to the bridge. I recall my favourite as being the third ladder in a tower, that was so amazingly on a 10 degree angle sideways, and scaling it with my 50lb backpack. It was all I could do not to roll off and meet a perilous end at the bottom of the gully. Today the beautiful new bridge almost disappointed with the ease it took to cross it. NO more ladder climbing, you just walk up the stairs and off you go!

We arrived in Walbran Campsite at 5:30, the creek is perfect for swimming if it’s warm enough. Several groups had a run-in here with a couple breaking the fire ban policy. People on the WCT take this seriously, keep in mind if you start a forest fire here, there’s no where to go and it puts the homes of indigenous peoples at severe risk too. We all simmered, had a tasty meal, chatted with our travel companions, explored the beach a bit and turned in for the night, thoroughly exhausted.

We spent the next two days going from Walbran Campsite to Cribbs and then to Tsuisiat Falls. Due to a problematic and confrontational cougar in 2021 there is no camping permitted along the trail between kilometer 34 to 38. So, naturally, your last stop prior to Nitinaht Narrows is Cribbs Creek.

The Stretch from Walbran to Cribbs is basically all beach walk. The beach is lovely, but don’t let 'beach walk' fool you. It’s just as challenging to walk in sand as it is through forest... and you thought it was going to be easier, didn’t you?! It's like walking through snow without snowshoes and being 30lbs heavier...what a Canadian thought. But! Fear Not! along this stretch is also the famed Chez Moniques burger stop and the Carmanah Lighthouse! The lighthouses are closed to the public this year due to covid, but it’s still a sight to behold as it beams brightly through the fog.

The Legend That Is Chez Moniques

In 2016 Jenna and I made a critical, but common, food planning error. We packed meals based on what we felt was healthy and would give us energy, without accounting for taste. In other words, we packed a lot of dry lentil-based meals that tasted awful and took forever to cook and I couldn't have forced down my throat if you had paid me. I love beans, but dried lentils on the trail... yech! You can read more about our cautionary tale in my food section, and if you're uncertain about foods to pack, it’s worth the read!

So, sufficed to say, that year we had the absolute pleasure of experiencing Chez Moniques in it's prime. It was incredible. Here we were, in the middle of nowhere, exhausted, starving (I was anyway lol), and run off our feet. And out of nowhere arose this mirage of a tent with burgers, fancy meals, peach ciders and more! My god it was intense. We kicked off our boots, stuffed our faces, chatted with Monique, the legend herself, and I protectively cradled the best Okanagan Cider that had ever touched my lips while we waited for the tide to recede. It was magical.

Sadly, between 2017-2018 both Monique and her husband tragically passed away. It was a blow felt around the world by all those who had passed through their doors and experienced their generosity. There is a lovely documentary attributed to their memory here. Today, in 2021, following a devastating 2020 with no business, Monique & Peter's grand-daughter, Katrina Knighton is trying to carry on the dream though the restaurant will be renamed as Nytom. We heard lots of chatter and some hikers did actually see her in person, but unfortunately there are some struggles, including keeping up supply levels, which they are walking in for 1.5 hours (!). We missed them this year, as did many hikers, and I was so sad Krista would not experience it. But! They are rumoured to have services most often morning and around 5pm. Katrina is also very active on the WCT Facebook page, so feel free to drop her a line there for more info!

We arrived in Cribbs Creek at about 2:30pm. It was the end of our Day 4 and what a campsite it was. Lovely soft sand under your toes and beautiful beach. There is nothing here for swimming but we had the most amazing sunset view on the rock shelf that night. Although it didn't rain while we were on the trail, this was the first time we'd seen the sun since we left Victoria.

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The Magical Beauty Of Nitinaht And The Crab Shack Of Your Dreams

We left Cribbs Creek about 9am and stuck to mostly inland trail. Other hikers going the opposite way had warned it was very overgrown but we honestly had no problems with it; it was a little underused, but keep in mind they hadn't seen the south side yet. We made excellent time and arrived in Nitinaht Narrows at 1:09pm. The journey is absolutely stunning. There is a new bridge over the creek at Dare Beach and the forest walk is lovely. The bridge over the Cheewhat River offers great views also. You cannot take water from the river itself but after the bridge there is a freshwater stream marked by a wooden sign if you need it and soon you will come across an old Cabin. When you arrive here, turn around and see the new and amazing Ditidaht home across the river. It has changed a bit, likely with the drought, but in 2016 Jenna and I referred to this stretch as "the place that Disney films are based on". Ivy clung all the way up the trees and just as you wrapped your head around that, the trail winds it's way through a silent coniferous forest where you could almost hear a pin drop, followed by a magical wetland lake with flowering lilly pads the size of your head. But none of this compares to Nitinaht Narrows.

As you walk along the trail, just a few short minutes past the lake, the path will turn from boardwalk to dirt and as you round the bend you will suddenly walk, with no warning, right into Nitinaht! It has caught me by surprise each time. We strolled down the walkways to the dock, left our packs safely on the bench and made our way to the Crab Shack. The blue-green waters of Nitinaht Narrows is something to behold. When you peer over the side of the wharf you see schools of small fish so thick you could almost surely touch them. When I dream of paradise, I dream of here.

Nitinaht Narrows was only recently made an 'official' entry and exit point by Parks Canada in 2014, you can read more about it here. But prior to this, older community members witnessed the inception and rise of the WCT as we know it today and watched it grow. Ferrying hikers across the narrows has become a task handed down from generation to generation. Connected to the ocean, it has tides about 10 minutes apart and historically, many years ago, hikers did drown trying to swim across before getting swept out to sea, naively misjudging the calm-looking waters. About 3 kms past the narrows, the Ditidaht band offers comfort camping options to those looking to settle and day hike the trail or in need of a break from the grind. This is marked with a sign and you will see it on the trail. The crab shack itself has also recently built new cabins as well which start from roughly $100/night (houses 4 bodies and you use your own sleeping bag) and goes up to ($200 and $300) where bedding is provided. They also offer tent platforms for a modest $30/night fee.

The Nitinaht Crab Shack is owned and operated by the Edgar family. They are kind, light-hearted, hospitable and will make you the best meal you have ever had. They work extremely hard and have a great sense of humour. A family member told me the previous day they had served a group of 20 lunch all at the same time! Hippie-Doug was their ring leader that day and he manned the ferry, that took us across the narrows to complete our journey, along with a sweet old chocolate lab you will see in many a hikers' photos. If you catch him at a slow moment he might share a joke and and story with you. But don't leave until you have warmed yourself thoroughly by the wood stove, had the best meal this side of Canada and picked up some treats for the road. The ferry finishes for the day at 4:30pm and then Hippie-Doug settles in for a much deserved break, a meal, and maybe a drink, so don't be late!

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Tsu-Tsu-Tsusiat!

We left the warming comfort of the Nitinaht stove at about 3pm and headed on our way. We saw our new friend and traveling tag-along Wilson off at the Ditidaht Comfort Camping site and continued on, arriving at Tsusiat Falls by 6:30pm. You can't see the falls from the beach, but if you reach the hole in the wall at Tsusiat Point, you're just minutes away.

In 2016, the first 5 days of our hike Jenna and I had the most amazing weather. On our 5th day, after the crab shack, while the sun beamed a balmy 25+ C, we ditched our packs on a slope of sand with gentler waters between Nitinaht and Tsusiat Point and ran into the ocean up to our knees, jumping the waves and being astonished at their strength. We laid on the beach afterwards and soaked in the sun. When I think of my little sister, I often think of this carefree day and smile. Enjoy the journey as you go, or you’ll miss the best parts.

Tsusiat Falls is a popular campground. When we arrived the beach was packed. According to 2021 Parks regs, you can only stay one night here to minimize environmental impact. The beach was very different from what I remembered, but the falls were ever glorious. We threw on bathing suites and while Krista enjoyed the brief sun, I took a dip in the beckoning water.

The next morning, with Krista not feeling hot, I'd aimed to get up early and walk back to the Hole In The Wall with my Nikon DSLR camera. When we passed by the day before it was high tide and the Hole was under sea water. However, after a delay, Krista decided to come with me. We packed up, left our bags at Tsusiat and strolled back to the hole together, and a better decision it was. I’d watched a group ahead of us pass through an hour ago, but beneath their tracks you could make out a fresh set of cougar prints. Since low tide was at 10am that morning, that means the tracks were very recent and could only have been made since the water receded. Food for thought.

Darling Bears You Might Be Cute, But I Don't Want To Snuggle

The last 2 days on the WCT (or your first two, depending where you start) are the easiest to hike and where you make up the most ground. We'd intended to land at Darling River Campsite (approx km 14), which from Tsusiat (approx km 25) would make it about an 11 km day. Most of our fellow travellers whom we had become familiar with were aiming for Michigan Creek though, which would add 2 km to our 6th day, but save us that on our 7th and final day out. We decided to see what the day held and if we arrived at Darling early we might continue on. WELL.... what the day held was not entirely what we expected.

In 2016 Jenna and I walked the beach hike between Tsocowis Creek and Michigan Creek. It had started to rain the night before and by morning was a light, but steady, downpour. We donned our rain gear but by noon, and halfway through our distance, it was clear that Jenna's rain jacket was not waterproof. Though she had tested it prior to leaving, it turned out not to be up to WCT-level rain. As we continued on poor Jenna got wetter and wetter and by the time we reached Michigan, she was soaked through to the bone. Water pooled in her boots, and she shivered so hard she couldn't help me with the tent. Realizing this could get worse quickly, I popped the tent, got her changed and snugged into her sleeping bag ASAP. Then I worked on adding a tarp. When the shivering stopped we got a warm meal into her and passed our time taking turns winding up our emergency radio and trying to maintain the faint signal from a long forgotten US talk station till darkness fell. It poured the entire next day as well for a total of over 24 hours straight and our photos at the Pacheena lighthouse are in plastic emergency ponchos.

In 2021 Krista and I opted for the inland trail as we'd previously made better time this way. There is lots to see here, another Donkey Engine and a rusty old grader, and I absolutely love the Billy Goat Bridge. The trail threw us for a bit at Tsocowis Creek, there, phantom branch-offs seemed to lead off and abruptly stop. You have to go down the ladders to continue the inland trail portion (OR access the beach). However, just passed Orange Juice Creek, it was quite clear this section of trail was not well used recently... by people anyway. It was eerily dark, overgrown and passed by what looked like long lost abandoned campsites in caves along the rock wall. As we passed by we heard something stir in the dim light, knocking over an old cup, and we nervously quickened our pace. We began to see pile after pile of fresh bear scat, some so fresh that by the time we reached Darling we figured we must be just behind it. Making a lot of noise we made our way to the beach and relief washed over us as we recognized people half a km ahead... our fellow Albertans, Mat and Lauren! But when they stopped suddenly and started to back up we knew something wasn't right.

Just ahead of them on the beach was our bear. And big guy he was! They figured a lone male. They managed to scare him off and once we caught up the 4 of us made our way as a group to Michigan Creek just down the beach where we figured there was relative safety in numbers.

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Bitter Sweet Goodbyes

Our last day from Michigan to the Information Station at Pacheena was a super short one. We were the last hikers to leave Michigan at 8am and among the first ones (ironically) to reach the Parks office at 11:01am. The path is very well maintained and an easy hike. You'll also see a lot of day hikers here, many with dogs. Along the way are some cool sights you won't want to miss, so don't be too quick to rush out. The abandoned dirt bike isn't going anywhere fast anymore, but be sure to check out the sea lion rock just passed km 10. You may even hear them from the trail! Just before the sea lions you'll also pass by the Pacheena Lighthouse. Again, due to covid, you cant access the grounds but you can totally snap a quick pic! The area has so much bear activity Parks Staff joke about running 'bear daycare' here so be vigilant. Two wonderfully enthusiastic young ladies we met along the way carried an amazing tune; Im sure they must've charmed away any "would be" encounters.

In 2016 there was no km 1 sign on the trail and in 2021 there was still no km 1 sign lol. Both times I raced past km 2 and then later wished I'd taken a pic with it. You'll want it as proof! We walked the very last km along the beach, where firm sand makes for easy going. There were bear sightings of a mother and cubs here just before we arrived. We missed them, but were lucky enough to get some great foot-print photos. The very last bench you'll see on the trail is emblazoned with the word 'PARKS'. We sat here for an eternal minute and took some photos. As we strolled towards the Information station I couldn't believe it was over again so quickly.

Looking back, even after time number two, it feels more like a dream. The first time I walked off the trail in 2016 I eagerly anticipated a hot shower, was thoroughly disappointed at finding I had no quarters for to pay for one and I spent the 5 hour bus ride home starving and trying to sleep on a roller coaster. Perhaps not such a glorious end, but I realized I had achieved something few people would in their life time and of that I was SO proud of Jenna and myself. We did it.

When I arrived back at work Sharon had the most glorious little bouquet of flowers for me and she glued tiny cut out flags of all the major trail milestones to skewer sticks throughout. It brought tears to my eyes.... she told me this, "for a while, you will think to yourself, I am NEVER going back to that EVER again. And then, slowly, you will forget all the bad parts and the thought will creep in... maybe, perhaps, I might try it again... and you will find yourself looking it up once more". And she was right, I did. And I am so glad I did... I might even do it again.

#WCT #West Coast Trail #hike #hiking #nature #british columbia #travelbc #hike2021 #vancouver island

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endexe · 3 years

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Whew, okay, uh, ya star child, Mori, here whipped out a fucking long ass essay just regarding to the things I realized while writing Zero and how much Zero means to me, especially on the personal level. Some heavy areas are to be touched as warned ahead in the sixth paragraph, but I promise I’m okay! I simply have a lot of thoughts and emotions whirling around in me that I need to place somewhere! But to summarize: Thank you all so, so, so much for loving Zero Orez, my one and only bestest foolish glitch child, and for giving me the safe and gentle space where I can be at my most joy and comfort having him here. <3

So the concept of Zero was created this month on April’s Fool, which is the second most ironic thing to happen with him ( the first is honestly the fact that within the same month, Zero have interacted with five muses who share the same faceclaim as him, like lmfao poor Zero, he’s just not having it --- shoutout to Mercy ( maskeraide ), River ( wxrldkiller ), Oli ( teletropic ), Vi ( heartbetween ), and Grace ( evermxre ) for having me so delighted and entertained by this concept, it makes my experiences writing with Zero so much more fun ). I created him for this episodic novel series Let There Be with Noble and Grim, the angel and demon respectively, who are private investigators. I had the concept of how there would be eldritch monsters trying to take over Earth by using the elements of the horror genre, which created mundane appearing but still supernatural linked cases that Noble and Grim had to solve when no other ordinary humans could, and the monsters were linked to their respective tarot card. Zero was considered to be the Fool.

I was excited to make Zero be a side character of the novel, the foolish and childish character who would constantly help and betray both sides of the series, one side being Noble and Grim, and another the Arcane. But I didn’t know what more to expect from him. I was reading the tag within the post I made in Noble’s and Grim’s blog that was the NPC introduction of Zero. It’s so funny that I said I didn’t know if I’d end up writing him on here because I thought Noble and Grim, my impossible lights, would end up taking all of the muse from him. BUT IN THE END... They were the ones who I set up the indefinite hiatus note few days ago while Zero’s still thriving, and I find that so bizarre because I thought Noble and Grim were the ONES who I’d always have the muse for. You know how you’d have that thing where you’d expect something to happen with your muse, but they would do the exact opposite as you least expected? Zero’s like that ALWAYS, but the fact he pulled the UNO reverse card on my impossible lights? Truly wild and now here I am, writing him for almost a month!

And... creating him, writing him is the BEST choice I had ever made in my entire life. Yes, Noble and Grim had helped me a lot, especially I do face a lot of struggles when it comes to the matters of hope and despair, what Noble and Grim embody of respectively but Zero eventually become so many things to me. The vent character, the comfort character, the character who I can channel my childish and curious energy into when I was rarely given the chance to let them out in the real world when I was younger, the character who is a learner but as slow and easily frustrated as me and a lover of life like me despite everything / anything. I realize also that I have so much fun and easier times writing him than I had with Noble and Grim, I won’t lie about this. Noble’s and Grim’s aesthetic and energy seem to attract more of an urge to write a bit more purple prosey with a hint of seriousness to it, and... it was so time and energy consuming to write them with these expectations I had on myself. And for some reason, I sometimes had trouble plotting with them, maybe because, again, I felt like they had to be these serious characters having to be put in serious situations. Few of the things I love about Zero is he have bare limits to his character as he can be anything and anyone I want him to be. He has about everything that I can use to develop and have fun with. I love how ultimately, Zero is ever unbound to labels and he is ever changing.

I’m just amazed realizing how many writings and developments I have done with Zero within a month than I had with those two, but that’s because with Zero? He is truly... all over the place. He is so messy, chaotic, flawed, but also, he is loud and open and FREE. Having to get into his energy makes me feel my most self where I can be too loud and loving, and not care too much about how I write and format my posts, unlike with Noble and Grim. He makes me so so SO happy and comfortable, and there is a lot of times I’d think about him and sometimes with my friends’ muses, and it’s a lot more than I had thought of Noble and Grim. The love I have for Zero is endless and beyond, always. He reminds me that original characters are so fucking important when they can be anything and anyone you want them to be, and as long as it’s nothing of harm to others and yourself, whoever and whatever they are, they are more than good enough when they provide you so much joy and comfort.

[ trigger warning: mentions of ( child ) abuse and traumas ] Zero have... about about everything I’ve ever loved in general from my interests to tropes ( adorkable, the fool, fourth wall breaking, etcetera ) to my love of aesthetics ( such as glitchcore / cybercore / kidcore / weirdcore ), and so many more. As well as he have learning disability, hypersexuality, tendency to be so distracted and forgettable like me. Along with he does these things that I do as stimming like he’d just rock or always love to touch blankets that have very soft materials. As well as he have experienced so many traumas that resulted him having so much trouble remembering and wanting to be childish as hating to be responsible, which is what I have. I don’t remember anything of my childhood or honestly, majority of my life but traumas. I don’t remember much of what I did yesterday. I don’t even remember if I had breakfast yesterday or what I ate if I did because I had been through so much mainly involving abuse from my own mother, still do unfortunately as I live with her, that makes my brain shut down, which also makes me have so much trouble being in deep thoughts when my brain is just. Numb. When I’m going to be more real here, despite how I appear online here, I do have trouble experiencing and expressing much emotions because, again, of the traumas I have dealt with for so long.

From all of these things I had gone through in life, I have dealt a lot with these concepts of who I am, what I am, like Zero does, and having him, I eventually realize how extremely important he is to me, so much more than any characters I ever created. He is my biggest coping mechanism and my gentlest reminder that it’s never too late to be... free. Just enjoy everything that I’m so fortunate to get from life. Draw clumsily, listen to music loudly, love too much and just let my heart be louder than the thunderstorms and crashing sea waves combined. Just be free and happy, despite everything, anything. I said before with Noble and Grim that I hadn’t been this happy before writing them, but I was so wrong. With Zero, I am so much more happier than I could ever be, and there are so many people on here who I am beyond lucky and grateful to be friends with who let me have him with no judgement like over how ridiculously overpowered he is or how much I self projected myself into him. And all of the connections Zero made on here so far are very touching and wonderful. I didn’t know what to really expect when I decided to give Zero his own blog, but having him for a month, this decision brought me so many beautiful things that I will always cherish.

I also wanna give a quick shoutout to River for. Fuck, everything. They’re truly the biggest reason why I decided to keep writing Zero and even make me love him more. They had made me talk about so many things with Zero I probably would’ve never thought, or wouldn’t have thought about so soon. I always extremely enjoy everything River and I would go over about together, and... literally, River, if you see this, know that you’re truly a wonder to have. I am so beyond thankful to have you as, honestly, already my close friend. Thank you so much for giving me that extra push to keep Zero and one of the most meaningful reasons why Zero still exist today, and for being just an amazing friend.

Just thank you all so much, to those we had known each other from the other blog and those we just became mutuals, for giving me and Zero a chance to be a bit more free and happier at least when our life won’t let us have that so often. Just thank you, thank you, thank you.

#* ❪⠀ 📺⠀❫ : 𝚎𝚙𝚜1.2:outofcharacter.𝚝𝚊𝚐 //#( I'm not expecting anyone to read it I just. again I had so many thoughts and feelings on this that I had no where to put but here )#( but again and again thank you everyone for this <3 )

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stuonsongs · 3 years

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My Top 10 Favorite Songs of All Time - 2006 Edition

2021 Editor’s Note: I was looking through some old files and found this thing that I wrote sometime in the summer of 2006 at age 22. For all I know, it could’ve been 15 years to the day! Looking back, I’m not sure how many of these songs would still make my top 10. Don’t get me wrong, I still love all of these tunes, but I’m sure you know how it goes - You get older, you get exposed to more things, and your idea of good music expands. Anyway, I thought it might be nice to share with anyone who still uses this site. I present it in its original format without edits to my writing. I ended up writing full posts in this blog about some of these songs if you go through the archive.

Stu’s Top 10 Favorite Songs…Ever

Let’s start with some honorable mentions. These were so close, and I thought about it for so long, but they had to be left off.

Honorable Mentions

All Summer Long – The Beach Boys

All Summer Long. 1964. Capitol

This song has been described so many times as being “the perfect summer song.” When you listen to it, you can’t help but smile from the opening marimba intro, all the way through. It just screams “summer” and it hurt me to leave The Beach Boys off my top 10.

Bleed American – Jimmy Eat World

Bleed American. 2001. Grand Royal

So full of energy, so rocking, and so what would’ve been the most recent song on my list. I wanted to keep it in the top 10 just so I could have a song from the ‘00s, but it wasn’t meant to be. When the chorus kicks in, I can’t help but headbang.

Marie – Randy Newman

Good Old Boys. 1974. Reprise

Randy has said that a lot of young composers pick “Marie” as their favorite Newman song, and I can see why. The idea of a guy having to be drunk to tell his wife that he loves her is pretty funny, and throughout the whole song it’s just the beautiful melody with tons of strings, all to a tune about a guy ripping on himself as he comes home drunk to his wife.

Does He Love You? – Rilo Kiley

More Adventurous. 2004. Brute/Beaute

I guess this is newer than Bleed American, so it would’ve worked too. This is another more recent song that it killed me to leave off the list. The outro is an arrangement of the main tune with a different chord progression performed by a string quartet. Very beautiful. Also when Jenny Lewis screams “Your husband will never leave you, he will never leave you for me,” I get chills every time.

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So here it is. After a long day’s work, I’m finally finished. It actually turned out much different than I was thinking when I first started. The number one wasn’t really even in my top five when I started, but I slowly realized I loved it so much. I also left Ben Folds (Five) off this list completely, and I don’t know, I just feel the whole catalogue of Ben is so solid, none of the songs stick out to me that much. But anyways, here it is! After the break of course…

Stu’s Top 10

10.

(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave – Martha and the Vandellas

Heat Wave. 1963. Motown.

This one beat out “Bleed American” just barely. The reason being that somehow, despite being nearly 40 years older than Bleed American, it still has so much energy that it kills. Dan Bukvich once told our Jazz Arranging class that you can boil all the oldies you hear on the radio down to three categories: 1) Great Song. 2) Great Performance. 3) Great Arrangement. This song is one of the great performances. The handclaps throughout, combined with the driving baritone sax behind everything and constant snare drum action will keep anybody with blood running through their veins dancing all night long.

Bodhisattva – Steely Dan

Countdown to Ecstasy. 1973. MCA

This song is my Freebird. It’s just a basic blues progression song at its core with some minor changes at the end of the form. The real kicker that drives this song home is the three minute guitar solo in the middle that isn’t nearly as rocking as Freebird, but it is highly proficient and takes me to places that just make me want to play the song over and over again. I have no idea what this song is about, probably Buddhism, but hey, this once again proves that lyrics rarely matter and the music itself is the core.

Zanzibar – Billy Joel

52nd Street. 1978. Columbia

This song reminds me of long car rides on vacations down the west coast with my parents growing up. They used to play a tape of 52nd Street, or at least their favorite selections, constantly on these trips. I didn’t hear this song again until early in my senior year in college and remembered why I loved it so much. The song has a heavy jazz influence, displayed in the breakdown where Jazz trumpeter Freddie Hubbard does a solo. The best part of this song though is at the end of the 4th line of each verse, Billy does this “Woah oh oh!” thing that just makes me want to sing every time. It was between this and “Miami 2017 (Lights Go Out On Broadway)” which is also a great song, but the “Woah oh oh!” is too much for ol’ Stu boy.

Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) – Bruce Springsteen

The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. 1973. Columbia

Early Bruce Springsteen records have something that very few other artists can ever pull off without sounding cheesy or forced. It has this undeniable sense of urgency, like the world will fall apart and life will crumble through your fingers if this one moment in time doesn’t work out the way Bruce describes it. There are so many early Springsteen songs that just set a scene of “We have to get out of this town right now girl before it kills us, no matter what any of our parents, friends, anybody has to say.” There’s a line that kinda sums it up: “Well hold on tight, stay up all night ‘cause Rosie I’m comin’ on strong. By the time we meet the morning light, I will hold you in my arms. I know a pretty little place in southern California down San Diego way. There’s a little café where they play guitars all night and all day. You can hear ‘em in the back room strummin’, so hold tight baby ‘cause don’t you know daddy’s comin’.”

I’ve Got You Under My Skin – Frank Sinatra

Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! 1956. Capitol

This song falls into the category of great arrangement. This Cole Porter classic tune was arranged for Sinatra by Nelson Riddle. The story goes that he was still copying down parts for the players while riding in the cab to the recording studio on the day of recording. After the players ran through it once with Frank, they stood up and applauded. The Baritone sax takes control here, outlining a Db6/9 chord throughout the intro. Of course, Frank’s vocal delivery is spot on and goes up and down in all the right places for the biggest emotion impact. It’s amazing how a song with no real chorus can be so good.

A Change Is Gonna Come – Sam Cooke

Ain’t That Good News. 1964. RCA Victor

This song was not even going to be on this list, but then I ran across it while scouring my collection of music and remembered how good it was. Then I listened to it and was blown away by the level of detail that went into this arrangement. Sam’s vocals soar above the mind blowingly beautiful arrangement. The lyrics to this one actually add to the tune itself, speaking of wrongdoings in the world around him, and how social change is on its way in the form of the civil rights movement. The song flows with such ease out of Cooke that one might forget the weightiness of the content, but the song’s content is just so heavy that it’s impossible to deny it.

Whatever – Oasis

Whatever EP. 1994. Creation

This song was released as a Christmas present to the U.K. from the Gallagher brothers and company. It never appeared on any full album, only being released as a single, and amazingly, it blows away anything else they’ve ever done. Think “All You Need Is Love,” but with tons of rocking energy and a snide, nonchalant attitude. The chorus speaks, “I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I choose and I’ll sing the blues if I want. I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I like, if it’s wrong or right, it’s alright.” Not exactly poetry, and the song isn’t exactly breaking any new ground either, but the song is absolutely perfect in every way, and it was going to be my #1, but perhaps the only reason it’s not at number one is because I’ve played this song so many times that at the moment, these next three are beating it, but who knows how I’ll feel in a few months. This song also pulls the same “outro performed by a string quartet” thing as “Does He Love You?” but even better. It’s so simple, but I can’t get enough of it.

Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra

Out of the Blue. 1977. Jet

This is obviously the best Beatles song that the Beatles never wrote. The staccato guitar during the verse combined with the strings present in just about every ELO song combine to make a force that is undeniably catchy and musically challenging at the same time. This is really what makes ELO so good. I didn’t discover this song till probably Nov. 2005, and it was one of the best days of my life. I didn’t want to include two songs by the same artist in my top 10, but if I did, I probably would’ve added “Turn To Stone” on this list too because it is almost as awesome as this one. It’s a shame that just like Billy Joel, most critics at the time hated ELO for being overly creative musically (they called it pretentiousness). These days we have acts that really are pretentious (see Radiohead), but everyone loves them, even critics. I’m not knocking all Radiohead, just most everything post OK Computer. Sorry, got a little sidetracked there.

Only In Dreams – Weezer

Weezer. 1994. Geffen

This has been my favorite Weezer song since about a month into me picking up Weezer’s debut album back around early 2000. It has this ostinato (a repeated motif over and over again) in the bass throughout most of the whole song, never even really resolving to the Gb major chord (excluding chorus, which never really resolves) that it wants to until the end of a 3 minute contrapuntal guitar duet when everything dies out except the bass which just retards on its own until it finally plays the single Gb we’ve all been waiting for. The song on the whole up until the guitar duet is pretty tame, but once those contrapuntal guitar lines start intertwining, my ears perk up every time. I can sing both lines at separate times upon request and when the drums finally kick back in fully at the climax of the song, I let out a sigh of relief or bang on my car wheel in exultant joy, whichever is more of an option at the time.

All Is Forgiven – Jellyfish

Spilt Milk. 1993. Charisma

I always loved this song from the first time I heard it, but I didn’t realize how much I loved it until maybe April 2006. I found out about Jellyfish first semester of college in the Fall of ’02 and heard this song, and knew it was great. The constant tom-tom driven drums, the fuzzy, almost white noise distorted guitar, and the half time bass throughout. It was great. Then in April I put it on my mp3 player for the walk to school, and then I listened to it for about two weeks straight. Seriously. It runs into the next song entitled “Russian Hill” which is almost as good, but because it’s a separate song, I couldn’t include it on the list, but in my mind, they always run together and are basically one long 9 minute song. The ending just gets more and more white noise filled until you can barely take it anymore and then it just cuts off completely into the slow acoustic intro for Russian Hill. It’s perfect in every way. I think this would fall into the category of great song. And the way the song builds up right to the middle of the song and then cuts out completely except for some very VERY faint xylophone noodling, and then busts back in with some feedback directly into guitar solo. Man I love this song.

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tealin · 4 years

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Basler to the Beardmore 1: You See a Plane, You Take It

As always, the original post is up at the official blog – the formatting definitely works there, if you are having issues with it here.

When planning my research trip with the Antarctic Artists & Writers Program, I had to make a wishlist of places to visit. One of the more important ones was the Beardmore Glacier, the route by which Scott and his men climbed from the Ross Ice Shelf (or, as they called it, the Barrier) to the Polar Plateau. It's one of the largest glaciers in the world, but is hardly visited anymore so is rarely photographed, and despite the blessing of Google Image Search, I had too poor a sense of it to draw a journey up or down it with any confidence.

Setting foot on the Beardmore turned out be prohibitively demanding, logistically, but there are regular LC-130 flights between McMurdo Station and the Pole which traverse the Beardmore en route. The plan we made was for me to get on one of those, and snap as much as I could from one of the small windows as we flew.

November 2019 turned out to be a terrible time for Pole flights – if the weather was OK at Pole, there was a problem with the planes, or vice versa. However, the weather delays worked in my favour, because they affected not only Pole flights, but one particular season-opening flight, which had been bumped so many times that it still hadn't gone when I turned up. That meant I could get a seat.

The big flights ffor the USAP’s operations in East Antarctica – cargo and passenger flights on/off continent, and to major stations like Pole and WAIS Divide – are handled by the New York Air National Guard, and their fleet of enormous military airplanes, namely a C-17 and small handful of LC-130 Hercules. There are lots of smaller trips from McMurdo to satellite stations, and these are serviced by Kenn Borek Air, a Canadian company which operates out of Calgary, Alberta. At the start of every season, they fly their fleet of Twin Otters and Baslers down the length of North and South America, then leapfrog depots down the Peninsula and thence to various hubs including McMurdo. From there they move people and stuff where they need to go, and also restock those fuel depots. There was one depot flight that remained to be done, and it happened to be to a cache near the base of the Beardmore, so they agreed to take me along.

I was not the only extra job tacked on to the flight. After depoting the fuel, we were to scout out a camp in the Transantarctic Mountains which had been in regular use until a some fierce winds a few years ago had scoured great furrows in the landing strip. Was it landable again? What state was the camp in? We would find out. They also wanted to scope out a historic site that left no physical trace, to get updated intel on its condition. Then we would fly north again via the Beardmore and the coordinates for One Ton Depot.

As soon as the Basler had finished her more pressing engagements, we were put on alert for the depot run. Everything in Antarctica is weather-dependent, and that can change on a dime, so one is always on standby. Because they needed to make the most of the Basler's time, they would put two missions on for any given day, then the one with the best prospects would be activated. For five days I was ready to go – breakfasted, fully suited up, lunch packed, ECW bag to hand – at 7 a.m., in case my flight was the one that was going. Flight status would be announced on the screens at the entrance to the Galley.

For four mornings I joined the poor Thwaites Glacier team anxiously hanging on the screens – they were trying to get out to WAIS Divide (the high point of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, from which they would catch a flight to the Thwaites camp) where the weather had been abominable for a month. One of those mornings my flight was activated and I got all the way out to the airfield only for it to be called off at the last minute because of a change in forecast for the depot site. But finally, the fifth morning, it was all systems go!

There are two airfields that serve McMurdo: Phoenix, which is designed to take the massive C-17s on a packed snow runway where they can land with wheels, and Williams Field, of groomed snow, for ski'd aircraft. The extra special thing about Williams Field is that it's more or less where Scott's 'Safety Camp' was located – so named because it was far enough onto the ice shelf not to break up and float out to sea – so the view to Ross Island from there would have been very familiar to our explorers. On the day of my false start, while waiting to find out that the plane wasn't going after all, I got to take some good pictures of the view from there. It was also a good day to get a sense of the 'bad light' that obliterated contrast on the snow and made navigation difficult:

The Sea Ice Incident took place between us and the conical hill to the left! Wild!

Anyway, Try no. 5 was on a much nicer day. Here is the magnificent bird with her spanking new paint job:

It was a funny experience – I mean, besides sharing the fuselage with many hundreds of gallons of flammable liquid – in that it was an island of Canada amidst all the Americans. The crew all lived in BC when they weren't in Antarctica, and next to my seat were the usual set of flight safety brochures, in English and French, just as if we were flying out of Calgary.

Our pilot was named Steve, and I learned from him that, if you're training to be a pilot in Canada, you have to do your qualifying hours in the North. Most people put in their time and then get a comfortable job flying passengers between major southern cities, but Steve liked the North so much he stayed and stayed, until he got the job with Kenn Borek and ended up South. As much as I feel obliged to make a facetious quip about my flammable fellow passengers, I can honestly say I have never felt safer in an airplane than this one. This was just as well, as one of the first things we did once we were in the air was rather exciting.

The Basler is a workhorse, and one of the Antarctic planes (though I never found out if it was this one) had actually flown in WWII – they just keep going and going. However, the hydraulics that lift the landing gear were designed to lift just the landing gear, not the landing gear plus 650-pound skis, so in order to get them up we had to lose some weight. And we did this by climbing steeply up and then nose-diving, bringing us temporarily closer to zero G. We had to do this every time we took off, and it took 2-3 goes to get the skis up successfully. You'd expect someone with a history of nervous flying and a sensitivity to motion sickness to find this unpleasant, but it was just plain awesome.

This post is getting long already, so I will describe our errands in detail over the next two posts. I really must take the time here, though, to give my regards to Kenn Borek Air. I don't think anyone in Canada knows how absolutely vital they are to everything that gets done in Antarctica; their vermillion planes keep camps supplied and people moving around, and are the everyday lifeblood of the continent, in the most literal circulatory sense. Steve and the Basler may possibly have saved the Thwaites Glacier project this season – after a month of delays getting people and freight out to the field camps, it was reaching a point where they might have called off the massive international project for this year. But they allocated the Basler to the WAIS flights and Steve landed it in conditions that the NYANG wouldn't – the Basler couldn't fly nearly as much cargo as a Herc, but they got enough out there that some work could begin. I haven't seen this mentioned in any of the Thwaites coverage and I'm sure it hasn't been covered in Canada, but for a country that doesn't even have a national Antarctic program, they should be mighty proud of the central role their people play in making other countries' programs happen.

#antarctica #travel #airplanes #aeroplanes #beardmore glacier #mcmurdo station #usap #kenn borek air #basler #dc-3 #aviation #williams field #photos

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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What Went Wrong With Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze?

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The story of how Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles went from underground comic book to the highest grossing independent film of all time is the stuff of Hollywood legend. But ask producer Tom Gray about the sequel, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze, and you are likely to hear an altogether different tale. One of a frantically rushed production, censorship backlash and a change of director and direction. Actors were replaced, there were clashes with the comic book creators and a series of strange and unusual characters were added to the mix – including Vanilla Ice.

Gray was head of production at Golden Harvest, the Hong Kong studio behind martial arts classics like Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon, when comedian-turned screenwriter Bobby Herbeck first approached him about a live-action film adaptation of Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird’s cult comics.

It’s fair to say he took some convincing.

“I hated the idea. I thought it was stupid,” Gray tells Den of Geek. Undeterred, Herbeck pestered Gray for months until the Golden Harvest chief had a sudden change of heart.

“I had an epiphany and thought we could just put stunt guys in turtle suits and make all our money in Japan. That was why I was interested; making it low budget. It escalated when Steve Barron came onboard.”

Barron had made his name with groundbreaking music videos for Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” and A-Ha’s “Take on Me” and sold Gray and TMNT creators Eastman and Laird on his vision for the movie.

More importantly, he enlisted the late Jim Henson and his legendary Creature Shop to bring the Turtles to life using state-of-the-art animatronics, which came at no small expense.

Even so, Gray found the project was a hard sell when it came to finding a major studio willing to distribute the movie.

“George Lucas’s Howard the Duck had just come out and bombed,” he recalls. “When I went around people would say ‘oh no I’m not going to put my name on the next Howard the Duck. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, how absurd.’ Nobody wanted to step up in the major studios.”

Undaunted by the mass rejection (“Hollywood is always the last to know”) Gray eventually secured a deal with New Line Cinema, then best known for A Nightmare on Elm Street.

The rest, as they say, is history.

That first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie came from nowhere in the spring of 1990 to make an astonishing $135 million, becoming a cultural phenomenon in the process. A sequel was inevitable but the results were anything but.

“It was rushed,” Gray says when asked for his overriding feelings about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze. “Once the first film opened, we figured we had to get another one out as quickly as possible because this whole thing could fade away very quickly if we didn’t come back.”

Incredibly, a release date for the sequel was set for almost exactly a year on from the original. That seems crazy to think now, in the era where the Marvel Cinematic Universe is carefully plotted out years in advance, but this was 1990 and New Line Cinema. At this point the production company which was working on its sixth Nightmare on Elm Street Movie in the space of just seven years. The quality of those films had varied wildly but one thing had remained consistent: the quick turnaround.

“New Line wanted it out on pretty much the same date, maybe a week earlier in fact. So, we rushed into the production, got a script together. The overarching thing was speed. We had to get it out,” Gray remembers. “I think that’s probably the reason why it doesn’t top many people’s list of the best Turtles movies.”

A Change in Tone

One of the first challenges facing Gray was a tonal one. While the first TMNT film had garnered praise for maintaining the dark and dangerous feel of the original comics, not everyone was happy.

“We started getting some pressure from parental groups. They felt it was a little too dark and a little too frightening for children,” Gray says.

In the US, there were reports of Turtles toys and merchandise being banned in schools over worries they encouraged aggressive behavior in kids. In the UK, the characters were even rebranded the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles amid concern among censors that the word “ninja” promoted violence. Michelangelo’s nunchucks were also banned. It wasn’t just the censors who expressed concern either.

“The toy company was also telling us that maybe we shouldn’t be too dark,” Gray said. “And then, of course, then there was Jim Henson himself, who died while we were making the first film. His whole thing from the beginning was that he didn’t want to make a really dark film. Steve [Barron] was able to convince him it was the way to go even though it was different from the Muppets and everything he had done before. They had a great relationship. Jim trusted Steve.”

The decision was made to approach the material with a lighter tone, with Todd Langen’s original script undergoing a major rewrite to address the change. Despite the change Gray insists an attempt was made to retain some of the darker elements.

“We tried to get somewhere in between but probably didn’t succeed.”

Ultimately, however, the looming deadline left little room for nuance.

“If you sit down and think about this thing too much, you’re never going to get underway,” he reasons.

A New Director

In another notable shift that fans have questioned down the years, Barron did not return for the sequel.

The Irish filmmaker told Flickering Myth that the shift in sensibilities was the deciding factor.

“[It was] lighter, and all the instructions that had gone on from the first film were coming from the producers about keeping the color and lightness and getting away from the dark edge in number two,” he said. “For me it was poppy, and that wasn’t my sensibility.”

Gray tells Den of Geek Barron didn’t come back “for reasons that I won’t go into” but during the interview paints a picture of difficulties during their work together on the first film.

“I fought with the crew every single day but they did a hell of a job. Budgets were not adhered to but I’ve always given them credit because of their vision,” Gray says.

The producer also revealed that the first film was re-edited from Barron’s original version after his bosses were left unhappy with the director’s cut.

“The studio did edit the film in the end to come up with a different version. It was felt it was cut so you didn’t get to see the roundhouse kicks and fighting which was the hallmark of Golden Harvest. When the bosses saw it in Hong Kong, they complained that they couldn’t tell what the turtles were doing. They wanted to see these guys kicking and fighting. Steve’s style was good but we wanted another look.”

Despite Gray’s diplomatic tone, it’s not difficult to imagine such developments might have created tension. In Barron’s place came American filmmaker Michael Pressman, who Gray knew from his days at United Artists.

“What I liked about Michael was that he was a disciplined director. Having gone through the problems with the first picture I wanted someone who shot fast and stayed on budget. That was my main motivation,” the producer says.

A capable director who has gone on to enjoy a long and varied career in television, little of the blame for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2’s failing can fall at Pressman’s feet though it’s undeniable that some of the creative spark of the first film was lost with Barron’s exit.

So was much of the original’s violence, with the Turtles rarely shown using their weapons in the finished film while the action set pieces were also significantly watered down.

Eastman and Laird

Despite the criticism levelled at the sequel for failing to retain the tone of the comics, all of what went into the movie was greenlit by the TMNT creators. Part of the deal inked by Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman saw them retain final approval on anything in the film. But that created other issues both at script and production level, as Gray recalls.

“Kevin was certainly more malleable with going along with things because of the budget but Peter was very difficult to get things by because he would say ‘Oh, well Michelangelo would never say that’. So, it was very hard from the point of view of the writer trying to figure it all out.”

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With Barron no longer around to mediate and sell them on the plans and with time ticking on, the pair’s reluctance to sign off on ideas led to increased tensions.

“We argued a little bit,” Gray says. “These things are never sweet or nice. It gets down to what we can do and, in the time provided. It’s about compromise. In the end they approved Langren’s changed script. Maybe it was reluctantly but we weren’t going to meet the demand and get this out if they kept changing things.”

Tokka and Rahzar

One of the most noted criticisms of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 concerned the decision to introduce two new sidekicks alongside returning villain Shredder, rather than draw on the wild array of mutant animals that had featured in the comics and TV series.

Many fans had expected to see Bebop and Rocksteady, the mutant warthog and rhinoceros supervillains made famous in the cartoon, feature. However, that cartoon outing proved both a blessing and a curse.

“I didn’t want them in any of the movies,” Laird later revealed on his personal blog. “It’s not so much that I disliked the characters so intensely, but more that I found their constant one-note shtick in the first animated series to be extremely annoying and silly to the point of being stupid.”

Gray’s version of events differs slightly.

“We wanted new villains because we would get a piece of the royalty, which we didn’t have with the first movie. We figured if we created something they didn’t come up with we would get a piece of the pie. It was a business decision.”

Together with the creatives at Henson’s Creature Shop, they “threw together” Tokka and Rahzar, a mutant Alligator Snapping Turtle and wolf respectively, based on pretty much whatever was available.

“Those things were basically the Henson Creature Shop’s ideas, because they had to figure out, technically, what they could do, how big they were going to be and how they could move,” Gray says. “They had to design all this stuff, put someone in the suit and then wire them up or get the animatronics going to make it work. So, we just went to them and said we need a couple of villains.”

Indeed, the resulting animatronics proved less complex and less compelling than the heroes in a half shell – and it showed on screen.

“They were just big models,” Gray admits. “We cut corners, there’s no question about it.”

Sweaty and Claustrophobic

Meanwhile, the turtle suits themselves had undergone little in the way of upgrades since the first film, when the actors playing the four leads experienced any number of issues. Not the least of which being the claustrophobia and sweating that comes with wearing up to 70lbs worth of turtle suit.

The animatronics also, despite being state-of-the-art, continued to suffer their fair share of glitches.

“We knew what the difficulties were and they were unbelievable,” Gray says. “There were days when we couldn’t even get these things set up. We were filming right near the Wilmington Airport. We set up a shot and when it came time for action the Turtles would not speak. We realized they were on the same frequency as the airport.”

Gray blames the lack of a major upgrade, in part, on the lack of additional budget.

“The budget didn’t exponentially go through the roof, because of the speed,” he explains. “I have read things saying it was $20 million. It wasn’t, it was $16.5 million.”

A New April O’Neil

Away from the animatronic issues, the human cast of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 proved a mixed bag. Corey Feldman didn’t return to voice Donatello after pleading no contest to a drug possession charge while, more notably still, Judith Hoag was replaced by Paige Turco as April O’Neil.

Hoag later told Variety she was never approached about the sequel, claiming her omission was a result of the fact she complained about the level of violence in the first movie and the six-days-a-week shooting schedule.

“Everybody was beating everybody up,” Hoag said. “I thought the movie suffered because of that. It was something I spoke to the producers about, I think they thought I was too demanding, and moved on.”

Not that Gray felt the production suffered as a result of either changes.

“No, not at all,” he says. “Certainly not with Corey Feldman because it’s a voice. Remember when you play that movie around the world it will be in 40 or 50 different languages and subtitled anyway. It makes no difference and nobody overseas even knew Corey Feldman was doing a voice…With Judith, we thought it might be of concern but then again it’s all about the Turtles. People aren’t showing up for Judith – though she did a fabulous job – it was really all about the Turtles.”

Elias Koteas also failed to return as the ice hockey stick-wielding vigilante and ally Casey Jones – though that was more down to the film’s shift away from adult themes and one of the more violent human characters.

“Casey was discussed but the reason he dropped out – and I don’t think this was a major issue – was the direction we wanted to take the film,” Gray says. “We wanted to go lighter. That was part of cleaning up the act.”

In his place came Ernie Reyes Jr, a rising martial arts star who had served as a stuntman on the first film and was introduced as Keno, a pizza delivery boy who befriends the turtles. It was a stark departure from Koteas’s character but, once again, it was one Gray says came with the backing of the TMNT hierarchy.

“If Peter and Kevin had wanted Elias back, he would have been back. So, either we were able to convince them that we wanted to go with Ernie and they went along with it.”

Vanilla Ice

Quite how they were convinced to include rapper Vanilla Ice in the proceedings is anyone’s guess, with the rapper turning up in a mid-film nightclub scene to perform new single “Ninja Rap.” His cameo continues to delight and horrify fans to this day. Few will be surprised by the commercially-minded circumstances that led to his appearance.

“SBK the record label producing the soundtrack album said ‘You gotta have Vanilla Ice in this, he’s hot’ so we put him in…We had a good album out of it. Sometimes you don’t make the movie for the reason of art you make it because the thing could go away in a heartbeat. I’ve always been fairly honest and upfront about our motives. It is a business.”

While others might disagree, Gray stands by the inclusion of Vanilla Ice in the film.

“He actually did a very good job. He’s a very cool operative and he loved doing it.”

Shredder or Krang?

Looking back on the sequel, as much as anything, the most disappointing aspect was the decision to resurrect Shredder rather than explore different villains in the way other comic book franchises have.

While Shredder has always been the main antagonist, as with Bebop and Rocksteady, there remained a plethora of colorful villain characters that could have been plucked from the pages of the original comic or the animated series. But the decision to stick with Shredder was not one takem lightly by anyone, and others were discussed.

“We went through the whole catalogue of villains and certainly Krang and all these other characters were in play,” Gray says. “We thought of them but we stayed with what works and that’s what you do in these situations. Don’t try and get too clever.”

As much as anything he blames the Hollywood system and a refusal to take risks. New Line too, would have no doubt been happy to press ahead with a Shredder-oriented sequel, seeing him as the TMNT’s very own Freddy Kreuger of sorts.

“Nobody trusts their instincts,” Gray says. “You go with what worked before and try to modify it a little bit. If it works [and the plethora of Freddy sequels suggests it did] then you are justified in using the same thing over and over again.”

Once again though the decision to stick with Shredder and avoid the kind of time and expense required to create something like Krang, a brain-shaped alien carried around in the waist of a robot man, was influenced by that release date.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze opened in theaters on March 22, 1991, less than a year on from the original. It went on to make over $78 million to become the second most successful independent film of all time.

Despite turning a profit, the film garnered mixed reviews and left Gray and others disappointed.

“It didn’t deliver on what we had hoped because there was this race against time to get it out one year after the first one. When you do that, you really have to compromise.”

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III

After the rush to make a second film, it was decided that they would take more time over the third one.

But anyone hoping for a return to form was left disappointed by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: Turtles in TIme, which saw the gang head to 17th century Japan.

“With number three, we were aiming something at the Japanese market, which was the number one market for foreign films,” Gray explains. “That’s why we had the time travel storyline with the samurais. That was definitely one of the motivations.”

There was just one problem though.

“We hoped it would get the film released in Japan. To this day, it has not been released in Japan.”

Though Gray returned to produce an animated fourth film in the 2000s box office returns diminished with every film. By the time Michael Bay got involved in the franchise, Gray was long gone. He now considers himself “out of the turtle game” with this being one of the last interviews on the subject. But despite the highs and lows endured on the second film, Gray remains proud of what was achieved.

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“These movies were made by committee. It’s amazing they turned out so well.”

The post What Went Wrong With Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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Sometimes I feel like SPN’s greatest strength is its fandom’s weakness. And sometimes even the product itself.

When SPN started, it was very insular. The internet screamed at you in most parts of the world to connect. Cable was even pretty rare. It was on a small backwater channel and, even at its hottest fresh burst, was running 1/4-1/5 of the numbers of the leading competitors at the time. When SPN premiered just above a 2.x, Grey’s was running 9.x and was still well above 8.x by the time SPN fell to 1.x. It was a dedicated cult show, with fandoms communicating by postcard, huddled in moderated livejournal corners.

Kripke, Jensen and others have all mentioned SPN really getting its wings around S4 to have a sense of stability, and it even survived the digital conversion mandate, it survived the advertisement crash, it survived one of the biggest TV show culls in history while the landscape changed and, somehow, the ratings that year went /up/. But even still, just because it wasn’t riding the bubble anymore, didn’t mean it was huge.

It barely survived Ostroff’s mismanagement. It barely survived the season 7 crash under Gamble. And then CW struck a legendary deal, and binge watching became available on Netflix, while Carver shifted and serialized the show, now that both DVR and increasing-speed internet and streaming services became available. And within a year, SPN was an international phenomenon. Hell, by seasons 11+, it perpetually ran in the top 20 digitally called shows in the world, ranking higher each year.

I think this is really what caused, in every way shape and form, the constant fighting in fandom.

I mean sure, we can talk about people who get stuck in ruts in what they think the show is supposed to be about. Those happen in every old as dirt fandom. For every Old School Fan in SPN I point you to Star Trek, to Star Wars, to whatever. You know, Back In My Day The Show Meant XYZ isn’t really a fresh thing to SPN.

But the fighting isn’t just about that. It’s about how to render characters. It’s about what makes good story flow. It’s about what dialogue means. In some corners, it’s about representation.

By and large the fandom endorses, “all interpretations are equal” -- which is valid to a point. Personally, I always asterisk it with “all interpretations are equal as long as your interpretation continues to work for you.”

But there’s some catch-22s to that. In a still developing piece, things change. That’s obvious. And what “works for you” seems to be difficult for some people to identify. I regret to inform you, if you have an interpretation, and yet the piece continues to divide further and further from your interpretation, and you continue to get angrier while the show seems to be going against your interpretation, then technically, no. Your interpretation is no longer working for you.

That is, if you choose to continue to consume content. There’s lots of ways to manage this. One can figure out at what point their interpretation broke away from the product and try to adapt -- you can take pointers from fandom, but realistically, it’s something to do yourself. Taking pointers from fandom tends to be what gets people into this mess where people get angry. You can choose to stop consuming new content and enjoy the canon within the sandbox that made you happy with your interpretation. Or yeah, you can stay angry and keep watching while you’re angry and refuse to figure out how to get un-angry, but I mean, why torture yourself. It’s your right and your decision of course, so I’m not going to tell anyone not to. That’s not the point of this.

Because ultimately that’s a small aside to the “interpretations are equal”, a general disclaimer appended, vs “still developing piece”, but the point I intend to make is it’s more than that. It’s more than Old Fan vs New Fan, it’s more than whatever weird totemic argument fandom ritualistically engages with and faps to. It’s...

A while back I mentioned offering to do an AV studies course. Technically drafts of it are still floating in my draft folder, just between life emergencies, life, covid pandemic, getting grossly ill, I’m just sitting here kind of empty. Full honest. But thoughts still come, so I blog, even while staring emptily at my half finished project in my video editor I don’t have the spoons to finish much less anything else.

But one of the things it was going to discuss was different things like Representations, Audiences, Ideologies, Language, and so forth. And this circles back to my point on this show’s strength and weakness, and how it falls into interpretation.

Two major impacts (I would be far from saying they are the only, or are they themselves laws that make someone somehow oblivious, but are major influencers when speaking of large groups of people) I’ve noticed are generation, and location. Such as... country.

SPN is a very Americana show. It’s filmed in America for America (hey, technically Canada is North America, but it’s definitely American oriented business/studios regardless of filming locale), often making American references, but even getting references doesn’t mean you’re really catching a lot. American shows do not follow the same time/format/delivery pattern as, say, Chinese or Korean shows. Go watch them, put them side by side if you have to of something in related-ish genres. Different cultures deliver their stories differently be it pacing, structure, symbolism and color, or whatever. What Japanese culture perceives out of the idea of a dog in symbolism is like wildly different than what American culture perceives out of a dog.

Similarly each generation has its own language. I mean, watch boomers and zoomers talk right past each other and that isn’t hard to see in practice.

Don’t even get me started on representation. America’s in a goddamn trashfire of Hays Code aftermath, which say, British people didn’t have to grow up with and may be used to entire other systems so they see Rando American Show elsewhere and go, well see! but that’s a whole other mess. Just... adding it to the equation (and vaguely thanking the Brits and other Europeans for shipping off so many gay ass films for decades that the MPAA couldn’t stop that they just gave up enforcing the code as much as letting cultural aftermath doing the work.)

So this show absolutely exploded, and like, it’s nobody’s fault that the entire sum of the fandom aren’t all like, media minds/eyes that pay attention to the different methods in international films. But it adds to a lot of talking past each other in the dialogue. It leads to a lot of expectations or readings that may be/seem valid to people because it’s what they know in their area. It leads to a lot of obfuscating of points, infinite carousels of suggestions and alternatives that, after dozens of millions of fans engage for a decade, just becomes a big relativistic vat, but a lot of lanes are now angry in every way.

Like this isn’t a one-ship thing or one-lane thing, it’s a just about everybody thing. And it’s not about any one subject or angle or view of approach. These days, it feels like Everybody Is Mad About Everything. Their reads aren’t really working for them anymore, regardless of their lane (for every pissed off Wincester there’s a pissed off Destiel fan, for every pissed off Sam stan there’s a pissed off Dean or Cas or even Rowena stan these days). Everybody somehow seems permanently blindsided by Everything if you take the temperature of the sum of an entire lane as a general rule, rather than (impossibly) reading through every opinion in each lane and figuring out where people are still happy vs where they’re upset. Then of course groupthink kicks in and well, if Rando French Cas Stan is Outraged, I Should Be Too I Guess. Everybody’s mad, guess I should be mad, instead of trying to figure out why everybody everywhere is fucking mad.

So people each build interpretations, reasonable in their own way, from their own origins, in their own countries with their own styles, but somewhere along the line, there’s a fracture. The storytelling pacing they thought they knew vanished and turned out wrong. The character dialogue wasn’t what they interpreted out of it. The cinematic stuff they read was coded to a different language than they were used to reading (back to, say, dogs). People are flagged and pay attention to things that may mean nothing to a filmmaker in the area it’s made and other people completely miss things that may mean something to the filmmaker because it really doesn’t mean A Thing elsewhere.

Compound this by lanes, echo chambers, people collectively finding what they enjoy and is -- respectively -- convenient to their mindset. Add in ship warring, slap fights, wasted kilobits. Add in decentralization, globalization. There’s no leaders, no teachers, and frankly, there’s not even a real In The Know anymore. Most people are In The Know to some extent. Some more than others. Hell, the people who most loudly /publicly/ pose as In The Know are often hilarious bags of air that end up embarrassed a year later (here’s to looking at you, blogger that anti-ranted Friendship Fan now facing the return of the Subtweeting Turkey. You know who you are and what I’m talking about.) I mean sure, there are a few legit Secret Masters of Fandom. But that’s it. They’re Secret. You may kinda pick up the vibe between the lines, and maybe just maybe they’ll drop a few genuine hints here and there in public to try to tilt people ahead, but it’s not the clout chasing goblins around here that anyone really should listen to and I /think/ at large everybody’s kinda figured that out. Most SMOFs are just silent contacts that hide in DM boxes and casually ignore the raging thunderstorms in the wild.

So going back to how I started this post-- while SPN found its success mostly post-S8 from the globalization of the product making it a phenomenon -- more than any one ship (but that doesn’t help), more than any one demographic, it’s just... it feels like everybody’s talking past each other and nobody’s introspecting or considering that while, yes, people’s interpretations are valid to them as long as it works for them, that if it’s not REALLY working for them anymore, maybe they’re missing somewhere. Generationally. Culturally. Whatever it may be. And I don’t see any amount of me sitting here in a Thinking Man pose about it changing that, or changing a vast amount of minds, as much as I really just want to /speak/ the thought process.

Because like. I’ve always existed kind of in the grey space of fandom. I “ship” Destiel in so far as I simply can’t be budged from the value in the text be that by antis or honestly even shipping culture itself. I don’t escalate into rants just to prOVE the tRuTH. I write meta about mythology because it interests me. Who the fuck are you MikeDawg1783894jKFbetabitch82398123? why should I care, where is your self importance coming from. I am far too tired to bother explaining anything to anyone, and frankly, I don’t owe anybody jack shit. You know what, you do you. If you’re happy go be happy. If you’re not happy, stop spewing your misery at me. This isn’t hard. But people around here make it complicated for some reason.

The internationalism also harms the product to some extent. Parrot Analytics reveals that this Americana show with Americana origins and methods is also ... *primarily viewed in Russia.* Like, 3x the US audience size. SPN been running the top 15-20 digitally called shows in the world up there with big sling hitters like Grey’s Anatomy now? Grey’s, as I saId above, always dwarfed it. In live numbers we still do. But there’s that audience to account for online now, with SPN treading almost neck-and-neck with it.

Result? Well, with TV being a business, that means that they try to cater to Russia. And like, no hate on my Russian friends out there. ILU. There’s nothing wrong with you. But then it’s like trying to perform for an international audience that this studio is not designed nor predisposed to deliver content in the form of. Read as: whole new interpretive tire fire potential, new arguments. New mess. Just extra restrictions on a core business level about the do’s and don’t’s for authors. Cuz things that are cool in the US may not be cool in Russia and the other way around for that matter.

So somewhere between “what business chooses to do” and “infinite cascade of fandom white noise, anger and confusion,” I feel lies in the same thing that has kept SPN so successfully on the air so long. It’s strength is it’s weakness, and it’s the international nature of it, the longer I think on it.

And no, I’m in no way implying international friends aren’t welcome or whatever. Most of my followers are international. That’s fine, I ain’t shitting on you or telling you to hang it up and go home. I just feel like a lot of this eternal static is based on this many cultures trying to argue interpretations of a work from an outside perspective with very few anchors on the methodology that drives it from within. And frankly, fandom hotbox dialogue doesn’t exactly lend itself to sitting and truly wanting to discuss the methodology, because people are so high-strung at this point, nobody wants to hear a POV that clashes with what they’ve built for themselves. Because you know, “my interpretation is valid.” I just... wish... people would assist their own health and mental health by, once it no longer is-- kinda figuring out why and where? be that for international reasons of film delivery, be that language, be that generational gaps, be that *WHATEVER* it may be. I feel like that’s a message not often-enough put out there in this fandom.

Like, hell, it’s okay to like. Just. Not watch new episodes. Play in the sandbox that worked for you when it still, like, worked for you. Watch it a million times. Write a million fics to it. It’s okay to not watch the Declared Popular Thing. You don’t have to shackle yourself to a piece when it’s no longer working for you, just like I don’t advise watching a show with a premise you hate only to yell about it from go. And furthermore-- if you do wanna keep going, it’s totally fair and okay to go, hm, I was wrong somewhere. Let me unplug this giant fandom screaming megaphone from my skull, go review, figure out for myself where the fandom egregore led me one way or another, let me find a new way to appreciate this piece as it continues to grow. But that ain’t gonna happen unless people truly want to surrender their current framing. And... you don’t have to. Not anymore than you HAVE to keep viewing.

I’ve found, for example, a lot of internationals I talk to tend to be upset about something or another, or confused, or what have you. And the reasons vary. They aren’t dumb people. But somewhere they fell off the rails and struggle to get back on and whatever chamber of fandom they’re in isn’t helping. The internationals I find that don’t struggle with any part of it just outright tend to be people who like... specialize? be it film study or lit study or whatever the topic is that helps them bridge understanding; people who can discuss constructivist theory or have read enough books across their barriers that it all just kinda clicks. Doesn’t make them better or worse than anyone else. Not a better fan. Just... happier with the content, which is better for /them/. And that’s really what matters in the end, isn’t it?

So IDK what the solution to this musing really is, as much as trying to put my finger on the pulse, beyond the sticky underbelly that is shipping fandom and its many corners that people blame for a sum of it. And like. Yeah. Y’all know I’m not a fan of Shipping Culture. But I really don’t think My Ship Vs Ur Ship is all there really is to blame.

The same reason for SPN’s success is often the same reasons for SPN’s fandom’s downfall, IMO.

#supernatural #spn #fandom

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 4 years

Text

book blogging #1: Dr. Tatiana’s Sex Advice to All Creation

by Olivia Judson, published 2002

Question: what do you think of when you think of books that are “fun” to read?

For me, a lot of speculative fiction comes to mind. Recent books that I found fun include Space Opera (Catherynne M. Valente), The Beautiful Ones (Silvia Moreno-Garcia), and everything by Sarah Gailey that I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Though I haven’t gotten ahold of it yet, I’m pretty sure Gideon the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir) is going to be spectacularly fun as well.

These are books that aren’t necessarily my favorite stories of all time, but they have been some of my favorites to read. They’re all propelled by zany premises and whirlwind plots, enjoying themselves way too much for anyone to ever stop and worry about the parts that don’t make that much sense. When Sarah Gailey says “I have a crew committing a heist while riding hippopotamuses, do you want in?” I don’t ask questions. I just say yes and go along for the ride.

But there’s one major anomaly that always comes to mind when I think of books that I’ve had fun reading, and that’s David Sax’s The Tastemakers: Why We’re Crazy for Cupcakes but Fed Up with Fondue. It’s a 2014 work of nonfiction, and as the title suggests it’s an analysis of popular food trends and the forces that power them. The Tastemakers isn’t what this blog post is actually supposed to be about, so I won’t go into too many details, but suffice to say that I was engrossed despite the fact that I know pretty much nothing about the world of culinary trends or foodie fads - or cooking in general, if I’m being totally honest. But there’s something really delightful about learning things that are entirely outside your wheelhouse without having to worry about the material showing up on a test later.

Given that I’m posting this on a blog with relatively few followers and that this is a write-up of a very niche book that was published eighteen years ago and could not be further from trendy, I’m well aware that anyone reading this is probably already at least passing familiar with me and what I do, so you folks might be saying, “Hang on, Makenzie. Are you seriously trying to say that this is outside your wheelhouse? The title on your Tumblr has been “Ask The Sex Witch” since 2015. You’re a whole sex educator, for fuck’s sake!”

Well, yes and no. Judson is a real-deal evolutionary biologist and gets into some pretty serious science in this book, which is pretty wildly different from what I usually do. I talk to people about sorting out their likes and dislikes, their boundaries, their sense of personal sexual autonomy, and so on. Although I definitely advocate for introspection and self-examination, I rarely go looking for answers far beyond the individual level. Judson asks big biological questions to figure out how some truly peculiar-looking behavior evolves: Why is it worthwhile for some animals to fight to the death trying to fuck? What’s up with some species of insects eating their mates? And who, pray tell, is engaging in the noble art of penis-fencing? Clearly, this is a totally different ball game on many levels.

(Speaking of ball games, did you know that the male shiner perch’s testes completely shrivel up over the winter? That’s rough, buddy.)

Offering sex advice to humans is hard enough, but Judson - writing as chipper sex advice columnist Dr. Tatiana - easily offers education to an impressively vast variety of species. The framing device of the book is a charmingly weird one. Each segment opening Dear Prudence-style, with a short letter from an animal badly in need of advice. The first chapter, for instance, begins with a query written by a stick bug called Twiggy (aww) wondering how to get her boyfriend to stop having sex with her after ten continuous weeks of intercourse. (Answer: Girl, he’s not gonna. Apparently that’s how he stops any other stick bugs from getting it in.) For the final chapter Judson mixes it up by formatting a discussion about the pros and cons of asexual reproduction as a hectic daytime talk show, complete with microscopes to view the tiniest guests and seating that offers both saltwater and freshwater tanks for aquatic audience members to sit in, like something out of Zootopia.

(I haven’t seen Zootopia and the only thing I know about it for sure is that in one scene there’s a DILF-looking tiger, but I’m pretty confident in the assumption I’m making here.)

Judson does an admirable job of providing pretty comprehensible explanations for a lot of evolutionary science, and while I did have to power skim through a few segments that were really beyond my grasp, it did make a pretty lively read out of the biological pros and cons of producing sperm bigger than your own body. It’s not exactly a book that’s difficult to put down, but I had a perfectly pleasant time reading it in the moments between doing anything else - eating a meal, resting in bed, getting some sun in my backyard - and even learning a little while I did so. I fully intended to use Dr. Tatiana as a break between the two installments of N.K. Jemisin’s Dreamblood duology, and it has served that role magnificently.

Am I recommending this book to you? Not exactly, unless you’re extremely interested in evolutionary theories that are nearly two decades old or a science fiction writer looking to give your non-human characters some thoroughly non-human sexual habits. I’m not supremely interested in making recommendations with the blog in general, unless someone specifically asks for them; I’m hoping this will be more like writing up my personal thoughts about books and then hurling them into the virtual void like messages in bottles. If they wash up on your shore and you read them and come to the conclusion that this is something you, too, would like to read, that’s pretty rad. I love that for you! But it wasn’t necessarily my intent.

Strictly speaking, I didn’t even recommend this book to myself. In 2019 I tried to stay pretty intentional about my to-read list, really whittling it down to stuff that I actively wanted to engage with rather than anything that sounded vaguely not awful. I was hoping to keep that trend up in 2020, but like many other things that are much more serious, this whole pandemic situation has scuppered those plans a bit. I get most of my books by borrowing them from the public library where I work, and that’s been closed for nearly two months. Unlike many book bloggers I’ve observed I don’t keep a massive stack of unread books around at all times, so I’ve really been relying on the kindness of friends to keep me supplied in these trying times.

My friend Paige slipped me Dr. Tatiana’s (along with the aforementioned Dreamblood books and several volumes of Kurtis J. Weibe’s comic series Rat Queens) in exchange for some books I lent to her, because we all have to look out for each other in These Trying Times. I trusted her good taste, despite having no idea what the book was about and more than a few reservations.

At other times I think this book might have sailed right over my head - not to sneer at the so-called soft sciences, but there’s a reason I gave up on my childhood dream of marine biology and got a sociology degree instead - but right now, as I’m finally adjusting to the slower pace of life in quarantine and remembering how to focus, I’m finding that it fits my needs. It’s unlikely to live on as an all-time favorite, but it’s something to do and gives me an occasional excuse to gasp and tell my roommate something absolutely wild, like the fact that spiders have two penises and that the dual arachnodicks are located on their faces, on either side of their mouths.

My basic understanding of evolution is that change rarely happens based on logic or reason, but by finding something that works and then sticking to it, no matter how improbable it may seem. When male elephants get horny they apparently develop an insatiable bloodlust and piss so constantly their penises turn green (yikes!), which is definitely not the most practical way to do things, but evidently it’s been getting the job done. Getting through quarantine has been sort of like that, has it not? A lot of behavior that might not be the most intuitive but is somehow enabling ongoing survival, like occupying myself with books that I might not have given a second glance in the halcyon before times.

That’s totally the same thing, right?

Right.

A note about the appearance of this book:

I’ve been talking a fair amount lately about my dislike for what I see as pretty transparently romanticized materialism in a lot of book blogging spaces, with an emphasis placed on acquiring and showing off as many pristine books as possible. I don’t own this book, and it looks like ass. It looks like Paige stole it from a library in North Carolina, which would not be shocking. When I noticed the large brown stain in the corner I jokingly asked if she’d dropped it in coffee, and she unflinchingly confirmed that yes, she had.

#bookblr #in which makenzie is a book blogger until she forgets about it

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devil-may-write · 5 years

Text

Day off [Fic, DMC, One-shot.]

I've had the word "writer" on my blog description for a while now so I figured that I'd start sharing some of the things I've written for once :> I originally posted this on ao3 and ff.net as the second chapter of a series comprised of fan-servicey oneshots that I intended to be 90% lighthearted. Looking back, I realized that this and the first chapter were haphazardly written, so I decided to retouch them and went for this one first as I felt that it was the one that shamed my Creative Writing teacher the most :--( The title's also kinda meh as I never really intended for each chapter to have a title hnnggg

I took a reaaaally (*cough* years *cough*) long hiatus from creative writing for personal reasons so there's obviously quite a lot of rust for me to shake off :--( Granted, I do think that this was a marked improvement from its original version and I know that the only way to get my groove back is to keep writing, so write I shall. Oh and I edited this meticulously but I still have a habit of missing small errors so I'm sorry if you still find any ;_; I'm just a headass ;_;

If anything, I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it :--)

-----------

The Orphanage was as quiet as a mouse today. Kyrie had taken the kids out to the zoo, caving into their demands after weeks and weeks of begging. Meanwhile, Nero and Nico took another job, leaving without so much as a whisper. With mentions of illegal devil arms being sold out on the streets, it seemed that the up-and-coming devil hunter wouldn’t be back for some time.

For Vergil, it was a rare moment of solace. With all his housemates out for the day, the older Son of Sparda took the opportunity to read and meditate on his poetry in peace. While he didn't necessarily despise companionship, he was unable to lie to himself and say that all the wild antics his companions kept getting themselves into didn't disturb him. As someone who was used to being alone, he enjoyed the solitude; it gave him time to be alone with his thoughts for he certainly couldn’t do so when the children kept asking him to "do the thing" with Yamato again.

Everything was proceeding according to plan. As he was busy soaking up William Blake in the living room with the refreshing sounds of silence in the backdrop, he was starting to think that perhaps this was going to be one of those rare, peaceful, uneventful days.

Until he heard someone ring the doorbell.

Vergil was many things, but impolite wasn't (mostly) one of them. With great reluctance, he slammed his poetry book shut and moved to see who his unexpected visitor was.

The local couriers had already finished delivering the latest batch of newspapers around Fortuna, and neither Kyrie nor his son were expecting any packages to be delivered today. He had encountered what the humans called "girl scouts" at one point, but they fled in fear when he demanded to know which master they served, furthering his suspicion that they were simply demons donning the guise of little girls in order to get closer to their prey. Perhaps they had returned to exact their revenge. If that was the case, then it was fitting that the children weren't present today. He could go all out without worrying about major collateral damage.

However, what greeted him when he opened the door was worse than any demon.

"Heya, 'Verg!”

It was Dante. His brother; his arch-nemesis. The smell of pizza, alcohol, and broken dreams oozed from his unwashed coat and shaggy hair, while his face wore the same shit-eating grin that haunted Vergil in his deepest, darkest nightmares. After what happened in Redgrave city, they were mostly on better terms with each other, but his little brother’s wild shenanigans and extroverted demeanor still annoyed Vergil to no end. He was like a 12-year-old child living in a 40-something man's body.

His reaction was immediate and decisive: he slammed the door shut in his face.

Vergil was about to turn around and return to his poetry when the doorbell rang again. And again, and again, and again. The utter buffoon was mashing the doorbell. To his annoyance, his younger twin brother was nothing but persistent. He didn't know why he was here, or what he wanted from him, but he decided that he'd rather get it over with as soon as possible so that he could return to his peace and quiet. The sooner he was gone, the better.

“What?!” Vergil threw the door open, almost causing his brother to get knocked off his feet.

"Really, Vergil? Really?" The devil hunter regained his balance. "Is that any way to greet your brother?"

"No, but it is how I greet pests who interrupt my peace and quiet." Vergil seethed. "Why have you come here, little brother?"

"I wanted to hang out with my big bro.” Grinning, he held up a plastic bag. “I even brought snacks."

Vergil observed that the bag his little brother carried was full of goodies: junk food, and bottles of what he assumed to be alcohol, all of which were most likely stolen from a nearby convenience store considering Dante's current financial status. He wouldn't be the least bit surprised if law enforcement would arrive to raid the orphanage later.

"Then I am afraid that your journey was in vain, brother," he said. "For I am currently not in the mood to entertain any guests on this wonderful, peaceful morning, especially not ones as disruptive as you."

Vergil closed the door again, this time a little slower. Halfway through, Dante suddenly stopped it with his foot.

"Come on, Vergil." He pleaded. "I came all this way just to hang with ya!"

"Then our souls are once again at odds, Dante!"

The older sibling pulled on the door with as much strength as he could muster, but his little brother had the same idea. They were locked in a battle of wills, with one side refusing to give way to the other.

Just like always.

"I don't have any new jobs today and Nero told me that the kids weren't around!" Dante responded. "When was the last time we sat down and talked or laughed over our jokes, or just drank some orange juice?"

Vergil made a mental note to hit his son the next they met. The fool, his own flesh and blood, had inadvertently betrayed him.

"And can you please just open the door?” the younger sibling yelled. “My goddamn foot hurts!"

Vergil fully intended on making him suffer, but relented and complied with his request.

"The last time we sat down and talked was when we were children," he said with a stern, as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "And if my memory is correct, it ended with both of us having a fistfight outside of the house."

"Oh yeah." Dante gave his big brother a friendly tap on the chest. "That was definitely your fault, though. I was supposed to get that last slice of cake."

Vergil glared in response.

"Okay, okay, fine.” The younger sibling threw his arms up in exasperation. “The point I'm trying to make is that you were gone for a long ass time and since we're not trying to off each other anymore like we used to, I figured that it'd be the perfect time to start acting more like normal siblings, you know?"

"And how certain are you that I won't sever your head when your attention is elsewhere, little brother?"

Awkward silence suddenly fell on both parties like a bomb had been dropped between them. The wind howled, as if waiting impatiently for Vergil to drop the punchline to his joke, but none came.

“T-t-that was a joke, right?” The devil hunter stammered.

"Yes.” Vergil nodded. “That was my attempt at humor."

"You should really work on your jokes."

"Perhaps I should."

"So are ya”-Dante clicked his tongue-“gonna let me in or not?"

Vergil sighed. Deep down, he knew that should he refuse, Dante would pester him until he gave in. Perhaps he was a 12-year-old child stuck in an old man's body. Either way, his hopes of having an entire day all to himself would be ruined, and he supposed that there were worse things that could happen today that didn't involve his dear little brother.

"Very well.” Vergil stepped aside, allowing his brother passage. “Make yourself at home."

Dante gladly accepted the offer. Unbeknownst to his big bro, however, he had ulterior motives today.

While he wasn’t lying when he said that he wanted to spend time with Vergil, there was one question that was always on the devil hunter’s mind: who was Nero’s mother? It was a topic he always brought up whenever he could, but it was also one that Vergil loved avoiding. Every time their past conversations would lead to that, the older twin shot it down faster than a bullet, mostly by changing the topic. Call him an insipid gossip, but his big brother’s peculiar reactions only threw more gasoline into the unquenchable blaze that was his curiosity. He wasn’t even close to getting him to confide his secret, but today was going to be different; Dante felt it in his old, aching bones. He had the entire day to find a hole in his bro’s armor. Plus, this time he brought a secret weapon: alcohol.

Walking into the living room, he wasted no time in picking a spot on the couch to plop down on, with Vergil following suit. The older twin made another mental note to ask Kyrie to give the couch a proper scrubbing when she arrives home later; it would be unfortunate if any of the little ones would sit on the spot his brother infected with his filth.

The younger twin promptly opened a fresh bag of junk food from his loot bag. As he devoured his prize with loud, disruptive crunches, his older brother could already tell that he was going to regret this decision.

“Want some?” He held out the bag to his brother.

Vergil was perplexed by the illustration of a large, triangular object that was displayed on the front side. He had heard of this 'junk food', but was never able to try any on account of Kyrie's insistence on keeping them away from the orphans.

Dante noticed his big bro’s quizzical expression.

"You haven't seen a bag of Doritos before?" he asked.

“My son often keeps these junk foods away from the children at Kyrie’s behest." Vergil answered. “I have seen him eat in secret, but I did not have any interest in asking for any.”

"Go on." His little brother urged, shaking the bag for good measure. "It won't hurt to give it a try."

Vergil hesitated at first, but slowly placed his hand in the bag and fished out a single Dorito, nibbling on the piece as a way of testing the waters. The moment it made contact with his tongue, Vergil felt as if a wave of colors washed over his mouth, painting his grey and colorless palettes with a captivating myriad of bright colors. It was the first time he had tasted such a thing and already his taste buds were in ecstasy from finally being given the honor to behold this hallowed object.

"Good, right?" Dante asked

"Indeed." Vergil chewed. "I am in awe at how exquisite this 'Doritos' tastes. May I have some more?"

The devil hunter tossed his big brother an unopened bag of Doritos, which he caught effortlessly and wasted no time in tearing open like a starving wolf descending upon an unsuspecting deer in the wilderness.

“See, isn’t this just perfect?” He moved closer to his brother, reaching out to casually place his arm on his shoulder. “The sons of Sparda, finally not trying to kill each other, just chillin’ like two normal dudes.”

“No.” Vergil slapped his arm way. “You are an eyesore. To add to that, you smell like the corpse of an animal who has been left in a garbage bin for too long.”

”I don’t smell that bad, do I?” Dante sniffed at his own coat. “Nah, you’re exaggerating. I took a shower before leaving.”

“In the sewers, perhaps.” Vergil scoffed.

Ignoring his brother’s scalding remarks, Dante scanned his nephew's living room. It was a little messy, but that was expected when you were living with a gaggle of children. To her credit, Kyrie was clearly doing her best to make the place look as spotless as possible despite the circumstances.

His attention fell on a framed picture of Nero, Kyrie, and his brother, taken in what he surmised to be the wreckage of one of the old Hell Gates during his run-in with Sanctus and his insane doomsday cult. From the looks of it, it seemed that the new governing body that replaced the Order of the Sword had converted it into a tourist site, almost as if they conveniently forgot that it was responsible for the deaths of thousands and cost the city millions in damages after it unleashed a horde demons on them.

"I see that the photo has caught your attention.” Vergil said between bites "That was taken last week when Kyrie insisted that they bring me along for shopping."

"How’d it go?"

"Horrible." Vergil answered bluntly. "I wanted to use the Yamato to procure a piece of jewelry that Kyrie could not afford, but Nero punched me with such strength that I was knocked out."

Dante bit back a laugh.

“He does have a mean right hook, I’ll give ya that,” he said. “Say, did they really turn what’s left of the Hell Gates into tourist sites?”

“It appears so.” Vergil answered. “They have become quite the popular destination here in Fortuna. Nero tells me that what happened in Redgrave caused demon-related phenomena to become quite popular, especially on what young people call ‘social media’.”

“Facebook, huh?” Dante walked over to the photo, examining it further. “I never really liked using it. Kyrie tried to make me an account once, but the first thing I clicked on was a link to a virus or whatever and it crashed Nero’s PC.”

“Then we share the same sentiment.” Vergil nodded. “All this new-fangled technology and the babble that comes with them confuses me to end. To this day, I still have no idea what a ‘hashtag’ is or how exactly one uses it when they wish to type in a message.

“I remember a time when this hashtag was just a sign used to connote numbers. Now, it is in tags or trending pages. Bah. I will never understand this new generation. They enjoy making simple matters complicated.”

“Simpler times, bro. Simpler times.” His younger brother concurred. “They even have this website where they limit the amount of words you can put on a post. How dumb is that?”

“About as dumb as you are, little brother.”

Stealing a glance at the booze he had smuggled in, Dante decided that now was the perfect time to attack. The ice had been broken. Operation: Nero’s Mom was just given the greenlight to proceed.

“We’re getting old, Vergil.” Dante returned to his seat. “The world’s moving on without us.”

“Perhaps.” Vergil licked off the bits of cheese that were stuck on his fingertips. “If anything, I simply wish to understand what a hashtag is. I cannot rest until I find out how it turns a text blue when it is used.”

”But you know what doesn’t get old?”

His older brother stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to give the answer to his own question.

“Booze,” Dante said.

“Specifically, whiskey.” He held up one of the bottles that he pulled out of the plastic. “I brought more than enough.”

Vergil sighed. He knew exactly what his little brother was suggesting.

“No,” he said without a hint of hesitation. “No drinking.”

“But I can’t help but feel that something’s missing.” He insisted. “My heart says that this moment of brotherly bonding is enough, but my soul yearns for more!”

“Your soul is in dire need of an exorcist, it seems.”

The regret that was creeping up on Vergil was now at a full-blown sprint. He knew not what shenanigans his little brother had in mind but knew enough to predict that, as always, it wouldn’t end well for either of them.

“Little brother, it is far too early for alcohol.” Vergil rubbed his temples. “Unlike you I do not require alcoholic beverages to enjoy my moments of leisure.

“Too early? It’s eleven o’clock!” Dante replied. “C’mon, pull that stick out of your ass, big bro. You gotta live a little!”

“I would rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon than live like you.”

“You know what they say: alcohol is what turns a boring ol’ conversation into a party.” He stood and began to pace around the living room in a dramatic fashion. “How can our souls attune with one another if we don’t take a little drop of alcohol to loosen up?”

“Whoever said that is a fool and you are an even bigger buffoon for quoting such drivel.” Vergil placed the bag of Doritos on the empty spot beside him. “You are free to consume as much alcohol as you wish so long as you clean up, but leave me out of it.

“I’m sure you are well aware of Nero’s temper. Attracting his ire would be unwise.”

“Come on, ‘Verg.” Dante moved closer to his brother, jokingly putting on his best puppy-dog-eyes expression to poke him further. “Just one glass?”

Of course, Dante had been in enough drinking sessions to know that the “just one glass” mantra was a load of crap. “Just one glass” always turned into “Okay, another one but for real this is the last one.” and the cycle repeats ad infinitum. If his gamble paid off today, Vergil would fall into that same vicious cycle, which meant that he’d be more than likely to spill the details about his old flame now that he was a little loosened up or just outright drunk as a skunk. The devil hunter always had shit for luck when it came to gambling, but he legitimately felt that lady luck was on his side today. He was going to bet high and win big.

On the other hand, Vergil recoiled in horror. Terrified, annoyed, disgusted, and angry were just half of the words he’d use to describe his catharsis. Seeing the face his brother was trying to put on was akin to staring into the nebulous maw of the void itself. He wanted to throw-up on the spot, but that would mean amplifying his brother’s already pungent smell of decay, so he opted to hold it in as best as he could despite his feelings of utter disgust at the sight.

His brother’s persistence bothered him greatly; the fool would never stop bothering him about it until he conceded. His presence was already an annoyance as it is, but just as he did not wish to amplify the smell of death by covering him in vomit, he also did not wish to be annoyed even further by his constant bugging. Besides, as he much as he hated to admit, he did miss the feeling of having a drink. He wasn’t a heavy drinker by any means, but he still enjoyed a little alcohol from time to time, and part of him wasn’t opposed to tasting even just a single drop. In a strange, twisted way, Dante was correct: it had been some time since he had a drink.

Perhaps it would be best to humor him for now

“Fine-” Vergil let out a long, deep sigh- “I’ll have a glass, I suppose.”

“Alright!” Dante’s expression brightened. “Does Nero have a bottle opener here somewhere or are we going to use Yamato?”

“Left cupboard.” Vergil replied. “The glasses for drinking are on the right.”

Dante disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glasses of whiskey. Vergil was surprised that he didn’t hear the contents of the cupboard crash into the floor. Taking into account of how much of a buffoon his little brother was, he half-expected him to leave a trail of destruction in the kitchen the likes of which no one has ever seen before.

“Here ya go, big bro.” Plopping back down on the couch, he handed him the other glass. “Fresh from the bottle.”

“How much did you pay for this?” Vergil examined the brown liquid. “I am surprised that someone with such gargantuan debts was able to afford premium alcohol.”

“Hey, the grocery I bought it in was selling it for half-off.” Dante shrugged. “Wanna go ahead and draw first blood?”

“If you insist.”

The older twin started with a small sip. It had been some time since his last taste of alcohol, but the feeling was just as he had remembered: warm, somewhat calming, like something was slowly lifting away the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. Unlike his taste test earlier with the junk food, this was him reconnecting with an old friend, repainting the sections of his palette that were otherwise left neglected through years of disuse.

“Well, well, little brother." He smirked. “Despite your constant buffoonery, it seems that you aren’t completely devoid of intellect.”

“Quality stuff, I know.” Dante took a swig from his share. “It’s expensive as hell, but it’s worth it. Hits you like nothing else on the market.”

“I must concur.” His brother replied. “As much as it pains me to say so, you have fine tastes, brother.

“The last time I tasted alcohol this exquisite was somewhere in the east prior to my visit here in Fortuna all those years ago.”

“This sounds fun.” Dante raised his eyebrows. “Wanna tell me all about it?”

“If I must.” Vergil took another sip from his whiskey. “I would prefer not to, but I presume that I have no say this matter regardless.

"So, it all began when..."

Vergil recounted his tale, with Dante listening intently. As the two brothers were getting lost in their banter about the older twin’s untold experiences, they found themselves drinking more than they intended to, pouring glass after glass after glass. It was a stark contradiction to Vergil’s initial proclamation, who was already on his third refill. Eventually, they started branching out to different topics, which ranged from the mundane to outlandish. This went on longer than they expected, with time wordlessly evaporating in the backdrop.

Dante was beginning to notice that Vergil was a little loose now, to say the least; he was acting less haughty and more candid. He swore that his older sibling was even turning red as a tomato, but he couldn’t tell. After all, he wasn’t one to talk: he was already the feeling the hit of the booze himself. The devil hunter fancied himself to be a pretty decent drinker, but this stuff was no joke. He bought this solely to get the elephant in the room drunk enough to spill his guts out. Vergil didn’t drink as feverously, but he was still going at it more than he probably cared to notice. On certain occasions, he would become lost in thought and start droning on about things outside of the current topic. Hell, he was even starting to smile a little more than usual, which was a weird thing to see from someone whose default facial expression was a frown.

Before they even realized it, the sun was already beginning to set on Fortuna, and their faces were already flushing red from how much they had been drinking up to this point.

“In the end, we lost both the cake and the money.” Finishing his latest tale, Vergil poured himself another round. “It caused quite the ruckus.”

Dante burst out into fits of uncontrollable laughter. His brother wasn't an airhead by any means, but his attempts to reintegrate into modern society always resulted in utter hilarity.

”Don’t sweat it, big bro.” He wiped away a small tear in his eye. “Being a dad’s tough.”

“It is.”

"How is that workin’ out for ya these days?”-The devil hunter gulped down the last of his current round-“Being a dad, I mean.”

Vergil was silent for a moment. He stared off into the distance, combing his brain for a response that seemed distant to him. The older half-demon never really considered himself a ”father”, by any means; Nero would call him dad or pops and he would occasionally refer to him as son but from his perspective, their relationship was more akin to close housemates than family members. It was still an awkward topic for the both of them, to say the least.

Seeing this kind of reaction from his brother was a rarity, but it was a good sign, nonetheless. Lady luck was truly on Tony Redgrave’s side today.

"It is still a very foreign feeling to me." Vergil finally answered. "As always, Nero tries to act like we are a normal family. However, even now I still find it very perplexing that he is my son. He is loud and brash and has no sense of subtlety.

"I wonder why?" He shot his little brother a dirty glare.

"Don't look at me.” Dante shrugged. "The kid was already like that when I first met him. Angry, hot-blooded, always looking for a fight. He punches really hard, too."

"Yes." Vergil nodded. "But at the same time, there is something about that boy that I cannot explain. It's as if there's a part of my soul that resides inside him. I am unable to see it, but I feel it."

“You two couldn’t be any more different, but the kid’s definitely yours, big bro.” He gave his brother a wink. “He even has your eyes.”

Vergil was silent for a moment, as if lost in contemplation. He suddenly found himself feeling wistful. It was odd for him to be this sentimental about a past he barely cared about at the time and as sure as he was that this was simply him being debilitated by the alcohol, he still wasn’t able to stifle these almost alien emotions he was starting to uncover.

He finally said, “Brother, may I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“How did you find my son?”

Dante refilled his glass of whiskey before beginning his tale.

"To be honest? By complete accident," he said. "When Lady tossed me a job about some serious stuff that was goin’ on down here that involved Devil Arms, I sent Trish to infiltrate the Order and get some dirt on 'em before moving in to do business. On the way, I saw this white-haired kid take care of a bunch of demons before going to some ceremony. It was good stuff.

"I barge into the said ceremony and killed the old dude who was running the show. There was obvious panic, a lot of screaming, but I didn't expect him to jump out of the crowd and start attacking me. We had a bit of a tussle, and he beat my face in with that arm of his which, by the way, hit really hard, but I got away. He started chasing me, though. Nero was an angry son of a bitch, so I had to knock some sense it to him more than once but like you said: spirit. I saw a lot of you in him."

Vergil smiled. Perhaps Nero has taken after him more than he initially thought, especially with how much he manhandled his uncle.

"I never even knew I had a son before I departed Fortuna," he said. "In truth, I never expected that one would confront me the way Nero did atop the Qliphoth. Perhaps I wasn't as resistant towards the desires of the flesh as I thought I would be back then."

There it was again. That sullen expression, as if his very soul was plucked from his body by an unseen force. He looked lost in thought, dreaming of someone or something in a distant memory that he could no longer attain.

"Yeah, well even you were young once, big brother.” He patted him on the back. “Don't let it get to ya."

This was it. The path was now open, and Dante wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip his grasp; he was going to ride this sudden burst of good luck all the way to the jackpot.

"Since I answered yours, do you mind if I pop a question of my own?" he asked.

“If you must.”

The devil hunter scooted over towards his brother. Vergil tried to move away, but found himself pressed against the couch’s armrest. His little brother was so close that he feared his coat would melt the moment it touched his on account of all the filth that had most likely accumulated on it from weeks of being unwashed.

“So, who was the lucky lady?” Dante whispered.

Vergil choked on his whiskey. At that moment, he realized his fatal error: he had been droning on so much that he inadvertently opened pandora’s box once more.

“What’s wrong, Vergil?” Dante placed his empty glass on the floor. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Er, I cannot seem to recall.” Vergil crossed his arms. “It did happen a long time ago, after all.”

“Come on, I know you’ve got something for me.” Returning to the photograph, Dante held it up towards his brother. "Who did you hook up with to get this kid?

He stalled by pretending to recall his memories in silence, but he knew that he was starting to run out of time. He needed to think of something right now.

In most cases, Vergil would find a smooth way out of this situation. He would take control over the conversation and shift it towards something else, gradually burying the original topic in a pile of mundane ones until it was laid to rest for the time being. Dante would exhume it in preparation for their next meeting, but the outcome was always the same either way. However, this case was different when one considers the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through his veins that clouded his train of thought. Hijacking the discussion was exactly what he planned on doing right now, but what he had in mind was far from eloquent.

“Before I give my response, allow me to retort with mine." Vergil answered. “What about you, little brother?”

“Excuse me?” Dante blinked.

Vergil’s expression unnerved him. His grin was unsettling, like it was full of malice and scandalous intent.

“Where is your child?” His older brother sneered.

“A kid?” Dante put the photo down and shrugged. “Never had one, never even thought of having one. My job doesn’t really give me time to settle down and raise a little rascal, does it?”

"So, you are surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women." Vergil continued. "Lady, Nico, and perhaps others you have crossed paths with inside and outside your line of work, and you still have not conceived a worthy heir to our father’s bloodline?”

“I get that." Dante sighed. "But I’m too busy, okay? I’m supposed to be the one protecting the human world or whatever, so a kid’s definitely out of the question.

”I mean hey, we have yours and he already has Kyrie, so the line is saved. There’s no need for another kid.”

“I see, I see.” Vergil nodded. “A fine answer, dear brother, but I believe that you are simply hiding a much, much more different truth that you do not wish to admit.”

"And what would that be?"

“Perhaps the truth is that”-Vergil walked over to his little brother, stopping at an arm’s length away from him.-“You are yet to pop your cherry, so to speak."

With that, lady luck had packed her bags and left for the nearest ferry out of Fortuna. The heat rushed to Dante’s face as he found himself on the receiving end of a topic that he was not keen on discussing, especially with his big brother. He tried to dig up a cool comeback, which was his supposed specialty, but found nothing except the cold, hard realization that his composure was completely broken.

Normally, a shallow, off-handed question like that wouldn’t bother the devil hunter in the slightest, but the booze in his system made it hard for him to think rationally, and he wasn’t just going to let the fact that his brother called him a virgin slide. They were both too drunk to even think about how petty starting an argument over this issue was for men of their age.

“O-o-of course I’ve had sex.” He stammered. “I just don’t have a kid, that’s all!”

Vergil, however, was having none of it and was already consumed by laughter. You didn't this see him this jovial much and, admittedly, in other circumstances, Dante would have felt a small trickle of joy to see his brother this happy. It was rare, like seeing an albino animal in the wild, or a Riot with a stubby tail: there was a sense of wonder that was attached to it; a once in a lifetime find that you'd treasure for the rest of your life.

But right now, all he wanted to do was bash his goddamn face in.

"Oh, dear brother." Vergil was wiping away tears. "Don't tell me that you're incapable of charming a woman?"

“I’ve been on dates before!”

“Then how about satisfying one?” Vergil sneered.

The sight of his little brother becoming flustered pleased him greatly. Dante's face was an even redder shade now as he struggled to mask his embarrassment. Oh the poor fool. Vergil was loving every second of this.

"I see how it is." He gave his brother a hard shove. "You had a one-night stand and got a kid out of it, so now you think you can act all high and mighty, don't ya?”

“Mother always said that I was the more handsome brother.” Unfazed, Vergil retorted. "It appears she was correct."

“We literally have the same face." Dante shot back. "We're twins, dipshit!"

"But I am the more charming sibling." Vergil responded. "With your face and that odor, it is not surprising that women are not attracted to you whatsoever."

"You're delusional." Dante seethed. "Living in the underworld for decades does that to ya."

"And you are in denial, little brother."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Admit it, Dante." Vergil flaunted. "I have inherited our father's charm more than you have, and I am much better at pleasing my partner in bed."

"Are you implying that I'm bad at sex?!"

Dante felt a nerve pop. He wasn't just going to stand here and take this shit from him. The younger brother wanted nothing more than to wipe that his smug expression off his face and make him choke on his words.

"It's not an implication." Vergil locked eyes with his sibling. "It's a fact."

They were both acting like children, but were too drunk on expensive whiskey to care. There, in the living room of the orphanage, a stand-off was taking place. Mirroring what happened atop the Temen-Ni-Gru all those years ago, the sons of Sparda stared each other down, neither willing to give the other ground. The tension was palpable. The silence was deafning, in a way: there was a calm before the storm where one could hear the drop of a pin even if it happened across the street.

Dante conjured his Devil Sword out of thin air. Its blade pulsed in a sickening red glow, signifying that it was ready and able to carry out its wielder's wishes. Seeing nothing but red and the blue hue of his brother's coat, he was determined to make him choke on his words.

The younger son of Sparda raised his weapon and pointed it at his older brother.

"You take that back." He threatened.

Vergil was unfazed and turned to retrieve his own weapon. Yamato was leaning snugly beside the couch, but now it was in its master's hands, unsheathed and poised to cut through whatever Vergil wished to destroy. He didn't intend on using it for the entire day even just for travel, but a change of plans was in order. Holding on to his staunch pride as the eldest sibling, he was determined to teach this insolent little pup a lesson.

"Empty threats mean nothing to me, Dante." Vergil retorted, assuming a battle stance of his own. "But you already knew that."

With the powder now lit, it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

-----------

The Devil May Cry van was steadily rolling down the streets of Fortuna with its proprietors at the helm. Nico took the next right, passing by the pizza place that served as their landmark; they were already a few blocks away from home.

On the front seat, Nero had just finished counting the cash they hauled in from their latest gig. Another day, another devil arms deal busted. This kind of job usually entailed a big fight with someone who knew how to use their new toy (to some degree), but in this case they were lucky that the thugs didn't know how to use their stuff and ended up killing themselves before the fight even started.

"Easiest paycheck ever." He slammed the briefcase shut.

"You bet your ass it was." Nico blew a puff of smoke out the window. "Those dumbasses didn't even know what the hell kinda heat they were packin'!"

"Yeah well, that just means more cash for us." The young devil hunter leaned backwards. "If all the jobs we took went down this smoothly, we'd never have to worry about getting hungry ever again."

He was glad that things sorted themselves out when the dumb bastards started to slice themselves in half by accident. He needed the money, but he hated this kind of job; it always made him feel more tired than he should be after everything wrapped up. Getting to go home with the sun still up was rare for them nowadays, but he welcomed it all the same. Kyrie and the kids weren't going to be home soon, which meant that he had the house all to himself. His dad was the only one left holding down the fort, but he'd sooner eat his own shoe than consider that Vergi of all people would be the one to cause any trouble.

"...in other news, a local grocery store has become the victim of a robbery that took place earlier this morning. Witnesses and CCTV footage have all confirmed that the criminal, who appeared to be a shadowy humanoid wearing a long coat, ran straight into the establishment and started stealing various junk food and several bottles of alcohol in plain sight, leading many to speculate that demons wer-"

At the mention of demons, Nero shot out of his seat and turned off the radio.

"I was listen' to that, shit-for-brains!" The mechanic snapped, tossing the burnt-out cigar to her partner out of spite. "What the hell do you think you're doin'?"

"Look, can we just not hear anymore talk about demons today?" He sighed. "I wanna block all that shit out from my head and just relax for once, okay?

"Whatevuh." Nico rolled her eyes. "Can I at least switch to the music station?"

"Sure, go ahead." Nero flicked away the burnt-out cigar that landed on his jacket. "It'd be nice to hear something that ain't your annoying accent for once."

"Hey, fuck you, asshole." Nico cursed. "Your jus' jealous cause your voice sounds dumb an' borin' in comparison."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

With music starting to flood the van's atmosphere, Nero drifted off and began to imagine all the things he could do without the children or Kyrie around. Maybe he'd go to the rec room first to boot up a videogame, or he could relax on the couch with a cold can of beer to help ease his nerves a bit. He usually wasn't allowed to drink any liquor, but there wasn't anyone there to stop him now. Oh, maybe he could do both. Both would probably be the best. Drinking some good beer wh-

A sudden brake snapped him out of his dream world, causing his skull to collide with windshield.

"Nico?!" He rubbed the spot on his head that had hit the glass.

"Don't lose your tits, hotshot." The artisan tossed another cigar out the window. "Get off your butt and look a' this."

Nero was back on his feet and peering outside through the windshield. He immediately saw what caused Nico's distress: the front door to the orphanage was open. Not just open, but it hanged from its hinges, like someone had forcibly done so during a struggle. Not only that, some of the windows were broken, and pieces of furniture were scattered along the street.

Frustration started to bubble inside him. He was looking forward to having peace and quiet and leisure greeting him, not the face of whatever ugly son of a bitch had decided to sniff around their home.

"What happened here?" Nico wondered out loud.

"Definitely wasn't a girl scout, that's for damn sure." He removed Blue Rose from her holster. "And here I thought that I'd get the day off."

"What the hell are ya talkin' about?" Nico pointed at the carnage "Your dad probably killed whatever knocked on your door, dumbass!"

"Maybe." Nero got up from his seat. "We won't know until we find out and I'm not gonna leave things on a gut feeling when we're living with a bunch of children who'd follow a stranger if he had candy."

Turning to his partner, he grinned.

"Hey, driver? Keep the meter running, will ya?" the half-demon teased.

"Just get the fuck outta here and do what you need to do." Nico flashed him a middle finger.

Dismounting the van, Nero revved Red Queen to life. With Blue Rose in hand, he slowly approached the orphanage, taking care to assess the situation properly and avoid any surprises that may have been left for him if there were any.

"This is your fault, you idiot!"

"You were the one who provoked me!"

No, I didn't! You did!"

"Foolish little brother! How dare you place all the blame on me?"

He heard bickering from inside. It was his dad's, for sure, but he swore that he also heard Dante.

The young devil hunter threw caution to the wind and made a beeline for the doorway. Upon entering, he felt an artery pop upon witnessing the horrors that had transpired inside his own home while he was gone.

A Category-5 hurricane had ravaged the orphanage. Leaks had sprung everywhere; holes dotted the walls and ceilings like they were blocks of cheese. As with the scene outside, pieces of broken furniture were thrown around everywhere, and the wall that seperated a portion of the living room from the corridor was no more. The ceiling above the dining room had collapsed completely, causing everything in the guest room to scatter all over the ground floor, including the bed. It was one hell of a ruckus.

"Dad?! Dante?!" He called. "You guys okay?!"

"In the living room, son!" Vergil answered.

We're upstairs!" Dante shouted. "Don't believe him, he's tired!"

Vergil and Dante began to bicker again, but Nero was too focused on the matter at hand to make out what they were saying. He dashed towards the living room with urgency, worried about the safety of his dad ad uncle, and...

He stopped dead in his tracks. This time, he felt all his arteries explode at once as pure, unadulterated rage began to course through his system.

The living room was a right and proper mess, but the highlights of this destruction were his dearly beloved father and ever-reliable uncle. Dante was sprawled on the floor, impaled with Yamato and looking like he had been fighting an entire army of demons by himself the whole day. Vergil, also looking like absolute shit, was high up on the wall, held in place by the Devil Sword Dante that was embedded in his chest. They looked utterly exhausted from their fight. Nero could spied a bottle of whiskey, as well as several broken ones that were scattered around the scene. They got drunk and had a fight while everyone had their backs turned.

The two brothers immediately ceased their bickering and turned in sync to see Nero, their precious little boy, with an expression of pure hatred that would make even Mundus himself turn around and run back to his mother.

"Oh shit." Dante uttered.

"Welcome home, son!" Vergil faked a smile. "How was work?"

Nero was in hysterics. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. This was much, much worse than he imagined it to be. The orphanage was beyond trashed. They were already in the red with the finances as it is, but now all the money they had left was going straight to fixing the mess that these two had left behind.

"Hey dad, hey Dante." He pointed at the still-intact bottle of liquor. "Watcha got there?"

"Er, a smoothie?" His uncle let out a weak laugh.

"Wrong answer, motherfucker."

Nero's voice was calm, but his maniacal grin said otherwise.

With a bright flash of purple, the young half-demon shed his humanity and assumed his Devil form, opening his ethereal wings to their full wingspan.

"Alright, assholes." The arms that grew out of his wings cracked their knuckles in anticipation. "Which one of you is payin' for all this shit?"

Dante raised his right hand.

"Okay, okay. So, here's how this is gonna work." Nero approached his loving family, making sure that each step was slow and deliberate. "I'll be using my left hand on ya and only my left so that after I'm done, you'll be conscious enough to pay me from your fucking hospital bed. We clear on that, old man?"

"Please don't kill me, Nero." Dante begged. "It was your dad's fault."

"Show me mercy, son. I beg you." Vergil chimed in. "It was your uncle who started this."

"Oh, it doesn't matter which one of you did this or that." Nero cackled "'Cause as far as I'm concerned, you're both gonna need more than just a Gold Orb when I'm through beating both your asses!"

With that, the arms on Nero's wings reached out and grabbed both brothers by their collars.

-----------

Nico was enjoying her 'cigs when she saw Dante fly out the window and land hard on the pavement.

"Nero, please!" he pleaded, trying in vain to crawl his way out of the carnage.

One of the arms from Nero's wings reached out to grab him by the ankle, slamming him around the street like a toy before pulling him back in through the same window he flew out of.

"Who told you I was done?! Get your fuckin' ass back here, old man!"

The mechanic took one last whiff of her cigar. Tossing it out in the street, she rolled up her window and turned on the radio again.

"What a bunch o' weirdos." she mused as the music began to fill her ears, drowning out the anguished wails of Nero's father figures.

#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #vergil #dante #dmc nero #fanfic #dmc fanfiction #oneshot #writing #creative writing #one shot #fan fiction

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martiniblves · 5 years

Text

mijoo and her iconic entrances DFKLSJGDF

yes, i really am recycling the intro some of you probably Just caught when you followed me DGSFLJLGSD

hey y’all, i’m kat, english student and an old hag :/ also slowly coming down from an anxiety moment, hence only deleting old shit now and potentially going rogue from my blog for the night after posting this ( aka, best if y'all send me your d*scord users bc it's much easier for me there ) sfdgjgfd i’m super excited for this group and can’t wait to read all about your muses ! and hoping you feel the same, i’ll get right to introducing avalon bay’s resident messy brat, dahlia !

[ lee mijoo ] dahlia kim, twenty-four, cis female, she/her, radio dj — a world-class traveler in the making, self-proclaimed “ reformed ” groupie, has been a tennant at avalon bay for two years, her cherry blaster obsession is the sweetest thing about her, she slept with an ex-best friend’s roommate and crush as revenge. [ kat, 22, nt, she/her ]

she often goes between dahlia and dia, first and foremost sdfglkj

came from a super small town in upstate new york where there wasn’t much to do or much to see, so growing up she had an adventurous streak that would run rampant when she was able to go off by herself, able to drive, and finally able to leave it behind

her family life was rather average, her parents scraped by financially but her and her two younger siblings never really went without — aside from a toy or two at christmas or a brand new car for their sixteenth birthdays sfgkljgdf

gets on fine with them, but her and her little/middle sister have had an on-and-off contentious relationship that, at the moment, is very much ON SDFGFG

small town life was.. okay overall, she was social Enough and polite but never really maintained any close relationships with her childhood pals once high school came and went, mostly bc the town was full of gossips so everyone thought poorly of each other and passed it onto their kids LSKFDGJGDFL

and yes, i’m kinda basing this off of the antics of adults from my hometown, what about it ??

she spent most of her formative years with her head in the clouds and music always around her or on her mind

so you bet she wound up taking guitar and piano lessons when she was a kid and well into her teens, and dare i say she was pretty good at it fsdglkjgdf

having that skill gave her the boost of confidence she needed from middle school onward, having been a tad reserved before then

idk what else to add bc i honestly can’t think of anything else about her past Before moving away. dull as hell probably, more than it’s already been said LKGSDF

upon moving to the city, she attended nyu just to keep her parents from completely losing their minds over her not.. wanting to go on a sure path, majoring in communications and spending much of her time as a dj for the campus radio station’s late night shows

soon began searching for dj gigs at major radio stations once she’d graduated and landed a spot as an intern to meet with artists the station wished to interview, etc, and even had an opportunity or two to interview them herself

through that job, she became more exposed to the groupie lifestyle and — having always been somewhat intrigued — soon became one ( of sorts )

sorry if you’re a fan of h*lsey bc this might come across as a dig, but this is where she becomes the chill version of groupie!h*lsey that h*lsey wishes she had been DFLSKJDGSFL

she liked the attention from drummers, singers and rappers alike — plus having sex with talented, rich people whenever they were in town didn’t hurt one bit — and she kept it all separate from her job, although it did help the station land more interviews, tickets for contests, etc

wasn’t big on hard drugs, but she never shied away from a bong being handed to her or a couple of xanax tablets, just so we’re clear here sdflkgjfdgk

however, the no-strings set-up quickly shifted for dahlia upon meeting a rising indie band’s lead singer

he was smooth as hell, which she already knew alongside his tendency to get bored easily with fangirls-turned-groupies like the rest of the musicians she’d met, so when she played along with his game, it didn’t take long for him to maintain an interest in her and for them to forge something of a friendship

she’d never admit it to anyone, but he was her first love as the initial sexual attraction very quickly became romantic after long conversations about music and aspirations, mundane happenings in their lives separate from their encounters and who should’ve won immunity on the recent ep of masterchef; dia knew he wouldn’t settle down now and she knew that while she was his number one at that point, she wasn’t the only one he had. a couple of months passed where it seemed like he was going only to her, that his interest rarely waned to the other girls that would swarm him, which led her to believe he was at least somewhat into her and to her confessing when they were both drunk one night — only to be shut down but not shut out

dejected and heartbroken, she still couldn’t quite distance herself from him like she knew she should and the front she put up — that she exaggerated her feelings and would get over it — made him none the wiser

however, he couldn’t get over the thought of his fwb still being in love with him and cut ties with her abruptly before his nth departure from nyc

it took her right out of her bubble, left a horrible taste in her mouth to even go back to being a groupie for others over how poorly it all went with him, so she abandoned the sexual aspect and potential intimacy of it — but not before taking herself completely out of that lifestyle for a few months to get over him

which.. lbr, she’s only 90% of the way there to this day sfdlkkdfsgl

upon going back, she showed up to shows and parties solely as a friend of the performer.... before that got old Quick and she realized how soul-sucking it was for her sexually frustrated And repressed ass KFSLJGS

though ask her pals and they’d think she’d given it up altogether, hence her supposedly being reformed

.. at least she isn’t indulging in drugs like she occasionally used to, so that counts for something lksdfjlgdf

as for her time in radio, she got promoted to a morning slot as a dj with a couple of co-hosts last year, though once an afternoon slot opened, she high-tailed it out of there

anything to get back to her chill, late night roots and this was the first step

lastly, she moved to avalon bay 2 years ago, after uni was done and she had to move out of the dorms. in that time, she’d become best friends with another girl and had a massive falling out bc the other was. well. changing for the worst sgfjgfd

she became selfish, judgmental, advantageous and disloyal, and soon dia had enough of her hypocritical and generally nasty antics ( and not without a brutal argument that left both of their egos bruised )

dahlia isn’t always one for petty revenge, but when the ex-bff’s roommate and crush — who dia had a slight interest in as well — bumped into her in the hallway of their dorm one night, she took her chance to knock the other down a peg by initiating a flirtatious conversation that quickly turned sexual

with her ex-bff being on the other side of the wall of said roommate’s room

safe to say that their ( final ) conversation in the morning was a fucking disaster SDFLGKJGFDK

it’s not something she’s entirely ashamed about, but dia doesn’t feel the need to disclose what happened

PERSONALITY AND OTHER SHIT

she loves her friends, would die for them, would kill for them. let’s get that straight first and foremost !

does that mean she’s the nicest or even the most tolerable person ?? fuck no SFGLJGKDF

i described her to one of my pals as a “ chaotic free-spirit with a mean streak when she doesn’t get her way, ” which. could also describe a couple of my bitchier muses tbh FLDKGJDS

but she’s stubborn, irritable and has a sense of high self-worth and self-preservation

she obviously has an attitude that can and will come out if you hurt her or someone she cares about/someone she thinks doesn’t deserve it

or if you think you’re a god or something

and it can get ugly.. as explained above dfskgdgkf

however, we love confident women on this blog and here you have one !

she’s chill for the most part, so you ( probably ) won’t have anything to worry about if you stay on her good side gfsdkljgfd

passionate af about radio and music as a career, wants to have a gig like zane lowe’s beats hosting job or even annie mac’s one day

although she also wishes to put out music of her own at least Once before she dies dfgsljdfgk

bit of a wild child, likes to party and just do her own thing — partially bc she’s scared of getting older and having to give that all up/being forced to act her age

doesn’t mean she doesn’t like her quiet nights in though !

closet romantic, just wants to be swept off of her feet..... but no one needs to know that, at least she doesn’t think so FSDJKGFD

won't let you see it anyways, at least unless she's Interested and knows you're not someone who's only useful for her in the short-term

also quietly doting, will never be the mom friend bc it’s too much responsibility and patience, but will always be a good shoulder to cry on who tells you your feelings are valid before she tells you to toughen the fuck up and amend a situation yourself, might even tell you how

some exceptions may apply FDLSJGSFLK

a bit vulgar at times, just warning you now fgldskf

wants to see the world and has travelled a little as it is bc of her connections. loves it

JFKDGS

has a pet succulent bc she Knows she can't look after the big fluffy dog of her dreams rn

named him bobby after one of the characters from the love island game DFLKGSJF

i honestly dk what else to add rn, plus i’m eager af to post this so we’ll end it here ! cute extras can always be posted later !

#╳┊: — yee yee ! •「 ooc ! 」#avalon.intro #we love copying and pasting on this blog SDGFJLSKD

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